Aila stands above Jex lying on his back in the sand. He tilts his head at an angle and looks up at her. His arm shields his eyes; even in the shade, even with the sun passed two thirds of the sky already, it is still bright.
“You done?”
“Do you like it?” She shakes out a glossy red blanket over him.
Smaller than the one they had before, but still large enough for two people, it looks thin and delicate. Closer inspection of the strands, show tightly knitted work that will keep them warm despite the lightweight of it.
“Oh, Ravens, it’s... wow.” Jex jumps up, sliding the smooth sheet between his fingers and thumb. “This is so soft and... I didn’t think you had this much hair.”
“I think the loom changed it from hair to silk as I was weaving, and it grew.”
“We never have such fortune!”
“The bad couldn’t last forever,” she points out as she folds up her design with glowing pride.
Jex bites his lip, takes one more look around to be sure there is still nothing and says, “Let’s press on, before our luck changes again.”
She nods, tucking the blanket under her arm and following behind him.
He slows his pace and allows her to catch him, stepping besides him. He reaches out his hand to her for the second time this journey. The surprise is easier to spot now that her hair does not cover her face.
“What?” he asks.
“You’re... never this affectionate,” she replies, slowly trying to put her thoughts into words.
“I am in bed.” He smirks.
Her cheeks flamingo pink and she looks away. “That’s different. You never touch me unless we are in bed.”
Just then, his head perks. He keeps his gaze fixed ahead. She immediately feels his body stiffen and her voice squeaks out in a whisper, “Jex?”
“Take my hand Aila.”
The command in his voice oiled with fear, and she does not question him, quickly locking her fingers with his.
“We are being followed. Do you smell that? Don’t let go, whatever you do.”
YOU ARE READING
Crimson Skies
HorrorThe sky is stained crimson with the blood of a thousand dying sacrifices made This Side of the canyon. Each month, on the Day of Killing, the sky pulsates. Wind throws painful screams to the far corners of the world. It rides across the land so eve...
