Page 80 of The Garnet Daughter
I sigh against the physical ache when he turns away from me, realizing whatever is brewing between us is changing me, softening me. A cozy sensation of being with someone who makes me feel safe but not suffocated. We need to talk about what happened, what it means for us. But first, I need to figure out what it means for me, to ignore the fluttering in my stomach for a moment and think logically.
August is right behind Sav as she approaches the sitting man. They are far enough away I can’t see if the man has the same milky eyes or if he is aware of them at all.
She easily takes the bundled supplies, tucking them under her arm as naturally as someone who has never thought twice about stealing, and begins climbing up toward me again.
August is slower. I can tell he is struggling with it. He glances up at me briefly and takes a bundle of food and two waterskins. But he doesn’t walk away with both. Instead, he places one gently in the man’s lap, muttering something to him, and only then does he jog back toward our secure spot nestled within the giant rocks.
“We can stay a few hours, eat and rest, but this area is not safe for long,” Sav informs us as they both return.
August hands me the waterskin, waiting until I have taken several big gulps before taking a turn.
“It’s alright to stay so close to—” He points to the man below.
“Yes. He will not move until the conjunction now. Late-stage eclipse devotee.”
“He is too sick to move?” I ask.
“His eyes looked like they had melted out of his head,” August mutters.
“Yes, and you don’t want to be anywhere near one of them at the peak of the conjunction.”
“What do you mean, Sav?” I unwrap the bundle of food, bread with a thin layer of sand that is easily brushed off. I have eaten worse. Maestra didn’t mention anything about them being dangerous or even indicated to stay away from them. Other than the obvious unnerving nature of their stare and blinding devotion, they seem harmless, just unfortunate people who have fallen victim to something they believe in.
Sav shakes her head. “Bad luck to speak of.”
“I’ll take watch,” August announces after a brief, silent pause.
“What will you watch for?” Sav challenges.
“You tell me.”
“Anything that moves and some things that don’t.” She smiles over a bite of her food, but there is a wild edge to her pupils.
“Two lookouts are better than one then.” He smiles at her, trying to deescalate her sudden mood change. “Callia, feel free to rest while Sav and I keep watch.”
She eyes him suspiciously, no longer falling for his friendly act. But that doesn’t deter him. He keeps a pleasant expression even if his shoulders are stiff and alert.
We settle into our spots. Sav perches on top of a rock within eyesight but too far to carry a conversation. August plants himself on the boulder directly across from me, adjusting his damaged armor and removing his broken wrist comm entirely. He chews hard on the tough bread and glances at me just as much as he does the surrounding area.
The few times our glances meet, my stomach does a little flip because he seems genuinely happy I am looking at him too and tries to hide his charming smile behind his portion of food. I decide it would be best if I took advantage of our break in travel and close my eyes for a while to solve both problems, my exhaustion and how irritatingly sweet August is being. I’m certain he understands when I turn away and get as comfortable as possible on the pebbled sand.
Sleep comes easily, but staying fully unconscious seems impossible. I float between a waking and falling state. I pass into uncontrolled dreams but am awake enough to process them.
Except, the dreams aren’t dreams suddenly.
I am folding.
Slow, like I am stuck between one location and the next, my body unable to decide which direction to proceed.
As soon as I become aware of that fact, something shifts and then I am standing in a dark room not of my choosing. It’s small and unkempt, and the air is thick with someone else’s breath. When I turn around to find the source, a young woman sleeps on the floor peacefully but her hands and feet are bound.
With a gasp, I am flung dizzily to the edge of a cliff, my feet wobbly as I sway.
I’m somewhere far from the birthlands’ brutal heat or so high up that the fog I can see all around me is actually the cold softness of clouds.
I peer out into the dense murkiness, as if I am staring into the eyes of something behind the veil. The air shifts, moving the fog in swirling tendrils, and then I hear it, the voice calling out to me. Deep and beckoning me all over again.
Startled, I step back, but the voice gets closer, more demanding.
