Children Of The Sky (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 2)

Chapter 32

One month. Fifteen days. Four hours. She hadn't counted the minutes.

Sobriety was maddening.

So was this bloody desert. And her bloody companion.

They slept during the day--or Noah did, at least--and walked during the night to avoid the worst heat, though the sand preserved some of it for a few hours after sunset. Kariana caught Noah out in the dusk, sometimes, on his knees with his arms outstretched and his freckled, sunburnt face upturned to the stars as they faded into view. She didn't ask what he was doing; she didn't care, really. All she wanted was to get to the city and find another bottle, drunken promises be confounded. Noah thought her to be doing better. She'd never known someone so blind.

They reached the city within two weeks of travel. There were great, dun-colored structures made from sandstone and people with dark skin sweating in the sun wherever she turned, pausing in their work to watch her curiously. Under their scrutiny, she wanted nothing more than a place to hide.

They had showers here--cold showers, so cold she felt numb afterwards, though that was hardly anything new--and after she'd bathed, which made her feel a little better, she shut herself in the room she was given and stared at the glassless window until the sun sank and everything went quiet outside. Then, silent as a mouse, she crept out of her room and stalked the hallways like a shadow in search of a kitchen.

It didn't take her long; peeking into enough open doorways led her to one eventually. It was a large room with long counters and rows of shelves stacked with ingredients and foods, and there were what looked like some kind of ovens lining one wall. Everything was warm and smelled of spices. She stepped in, glancing at the long stone table on the other side of the room, and the red-haired man sitting there, watching her--

She swore quietly and turned around.

"Kariana."

She didn't know why Noah's voice stopped her when it hadn't in the past. Perhaps it was the steel in it.

"Sit down. Let's talk a while."

Kariana set her jaw, narrowing her eyes at nothing, back still facing him, and started down the hall. "I'm going to bed."

"Kariana."

She stopped. Shut her eyes. Turned around.

Noah didn't say anything for a long while after she sat down across from him. Instead, he got up and busied himself for a few minutes with something she didn't bother to turn around and see. Her unspoken question was answered when he put a sandwich and a glass of water in front of her, then sat back down. His kind face was stern and unyielding as he met her stare, the reddish beard he'd grown during their travels now clean but still unshaved, his hair down to his ears and wavy.

"Eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"We ran out of rations yesterday, and you've been in your room since we got here. Eat."

Leaning back in her chair, Kariana folded one arm across her stomach and stared at him flatly. "I'm not hungry."

Noah rubbed a hand over his beard and looked to the side, exhaling heavily. Then he, too, leaned back. Met her gaze. Stared her down. The standoff lasted until her eyes hurt from looking at him so long, and, swearing at him, she picked up the sandwich and started to eat. It tasted like nothing.

Noah waited until she'd finished, then cleared her empty plate and refilled her glass before sitting back down. "What're you doing down here, hm?" His voice was far gentler than before; Kariana came very close to feeling something deep in her stony self at the gesture. "We had a deal, you and I."