Sky Woman: Book One of The Empress Saga

CHAPTER TWENTY

Enfri tied the empty water skin around her waist and kept walking. It hadn't lasted as long as the first one. Every time she took a drink, the thirst returned immediately. Her tiny sips weren't remotely enough. Even as she drank the last of her supply, her mouth was dry and sticky. Her headache, a sharp and incessant pain within her forehead, had been her constant companion since she woke up.

Dehydration, she told herself. Moderate to severe. Soon, I'll start getting dizzy, maybe a little disoriented.

    It would be a simple matter to treat. All she needed was significantly more water than she'd been getting. Nothing simpler. She just needed to gather a little of all this water lying around.

Oh, and delirium, too, she added to the list of symptoms. Better watch out for that.

    The night was halfway gone, and the cold was getting worse. Enfri rubbed her arms raw to try to work some warmth into them. It was no use. Even running hadn't been helping.

    She was tired as well. Three times she stumbled to her knees while trying to trudge her way through the loose sand. It came of trying to walk up the slopes of sand dunes. Her brain simply couldn't fathom that there were obstacles ahead of her.

    Enfri was moving forward, but there was no thought behind her actions. Only purpose. Reach the spire. Keep moving. Find the wellspring. Deebee should have come by now.

    Worry for the tiny dragon was as pressing as the painful thirst. It had been two days since they split up. Or was it nights? Night and days. Enfri had trouble keeping it all straight. Thinking was like trying to catch smoke on a foggy day.

    Deebee was alive. Enfri was sure of that much. Every couple of hours, she'd feel a sudden burst of energy. It must have been Deebee giving strength through the bond. Enfri took those brief surges of vitality as encouragement to keep moving. Whenever she felt one, she'd break into a jog. She'd try to respond as Deebee had the night before, by sending ether, but she couldn't be sure if it worked.

    There was no choice now. Even if the wellspring was dry, Enfri couldn't turn back. She'd never make it out of the desert. The point of no return was far behind her. The only hope she had was to find water at the spire. If there wasn't any, Jin would find Enfri's desiccated body and cart it back to Althandor to show off to the king.

    Enfri sniggered at the thought. It was funnier than she expected. She had no doubt whatsoever that Jin would eventually find her corpse. Inevitable. Like the rising of the sun or the coming of winter, Jin found what she hunted.

I'd be disappointed if she didn't, Enfri decided. It just wouldn't do for us both to lose.

    Without warning, the wind picked up and blew Enfri's hair back. The sudden gale stopped her in her tracks, and she had to cover her face with her arms to protect it from the stinging sand. The freak windstorm changed directions, and Enfri toppled to her side.

    It was a sandstorm. Before Enfri even realized what was happening, she was rolling across the ground and desperately trying to protect herself from bits of sand that stung like wasps. She curled into a crooked, little ball and prayed that the storm would pass quickly.

    If Jin could only see her like this. How admirable would the assassin find her now, clumsy and half-dead as she was? Jin would be ashamed she ever thought well of her.

What does it matter what she thinks of me? Jin wants me dead. I've known that from the start, so why does it only hurt now?

    Enfri cringed. It was a familiar feeling, much like how Mother used to sing to Enfri while she brushed her hair. Brief moments of kindness that proved to be lies. They made her yearn for more of that kindness, because she then knew that it could be possible. Only, something about Enfri was wrong and brought out the cruelty.