Crimson Skies

Part 32 - Brown Powder

“We have to use it,” Dyle decides.

                “No!” Jex shouts, already realising what his friend means.

                “Can you run... forever?”

                Jex stops running then. He leans over, his hands resting on his knees and he gulps air into his burning lungs. The three others stop near him, panting and clutching their chests, waiting and breathless for a decision.

                “That... was meant... for when... we met a... demon we... couldn’t escape,” Jex says between gasps of air.

                “We have no choice, we have to hide now and it’s the only thing that will stop the monsters giving our position away to the army. It will give us some hours of rest before we run again. You know once we get passed the half way, the army cannot cross the Other Side,” Dyle tries to reason, green eyes darting behind them, scouting for signs the army has caught up to them.

                He shakes his head. They have run. The army is walking. There is distance enough for this, he allows.

                “Then what? Mmm?” Jex narrows his eyes, pulling Dyle’s attention on him again. “What if we meet something in the second half of our journey we need it for? We’re dead then.”

                Sarla touches her hand to his arm. “We are dead now, if we don’t.”

                He sighs looking up; there is a change from purple to crimson, wind waving colours along the sky. The faint sounds of torture and excitement tingle passed his ears and the wind pushes back his hair.

                “Fine! Fine,” he allows reluctantly. “Up ahead. The canyon walls split in several places, some wide enough for us to squeeze in. We’ll hide in the walls.”

                Without wasting another second, they race off again. The first crevices in the walls appear and some moments later one big enough for them comes to view.

“There!” Sarla points.

“Not the first,” Jex growls.

“They may check the first few, even the last few; we must take one in the middle,” Dyle explains.

Finally, Jex leads them to a small hole in the wall. “Aila and I had a look in here, through this hole it opens up. If they check cracks, they are less likely to check ones they must first crawl through. Aila go.”

She scrambles into the hole in the wall and pulls her body through, tumbling in. Inside is a wide and long tunnel. She looks up and sees a thin slit of sky above her; golden sunlight shines against the right side of the rock wall. She moves in to make room as Sarla heaves in, followed by Jex. Dyle passes the bag through and then worms in after them. Jex takes and arm, Sarla and Aila take the other and they pull Dyle into the hiding place.

Dyle falls in, landing on the soft red sand. “Thought I wasn’t going to fit for a moment.”

“Come, we must move further in, they mustn’t hear us,” Jex leads them half way through the division in the canyon wall to where the spilt begins to narrow. “Alright. Here.”

Dyle takes off his bag and they all slouch to the ground. He takes out a small pot and tips fine brown powder into his palm, and then he pours it into Sarla’s open hand. She lifts her hands up; it smells of curie and petrol. Dyle then pours the bit left in a solid line from one wall to the other; Sarla does the same on her side.

As the line meets from one point to the other, it burns, filling their noses with the strong smell before extinguishing.

“That will keep the demons away, for a few hours,” Dyle mutters, reaching in the bag for some drink and bread.

They each take an eager sip of the thick green fluid and share the bread between themselves. When the boys are not watching, Sarla breaks her bread in half and hands it to Aila. She eagerly eats the offering.

“Now, my love,” Sarla whispers sadly, reaching out to touch Aila’s short curls, “Tell me what you did to your lovely hair.”

“Oh!” Aila gasps, just remembering. “Here, I made it.”

She hands over some folded materials. Sarla shakes them out to find it is a red jacket and pants. She feels the silky material between her fingers. “Aila...” her words catch in her throat and tears brim her eyes.

“No, no flower. We do not cry when things are well,” Aila hushes, pulling her cousin in for a hug. “I hope it fits.”

Dyle gives Jex a pointed stare and Jex rolls his eyes then turns and faces the wall while Sarla takes off the rags she was using as pants and pulls on the new pair. “Oh, they’re perfect, thank you.” She pulls the jacket over her torn shirt and snuggles back down. “Thank you. I’m sorry about your hair...”

“It will grow and now you’ll be warm.”

Jex turns around. “You know, the way her clothes were ripped before, it was like she wasn’t wearing anything anyway so I don’t see why I had to turn away.”

Dyle punches his arm.

“Ow!” Jex complains, rubbing it tenderly. He scowls. “We better sleep. If we are wasting this powder now, we better not waste the chance to get hours of good rest.”