Page 23 of Pain

“That sucked,” I said, my hand still in Drak’s. “No wonder you guys don’t make a habit of coming here.”

Speaking ofhere… I glanced around at our surroundings. AtHell.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but this sure ashellwasn’t it.

Where was the fire? Where were the brimstones and tar pits? Okay, maybe I was expecting something, but this wasn’t it.

It was a desert with dry, dusty air, a vulture-like creature circling overhead, and red-hued mountains off to … well, I didn’t know which way was north or any of the other directions, but there were mountains to one side, and an endless flat desert in the other direction. The ground beneath our feet was red, the sky was red, and even the atmosphere felt red, if that was possible.

One thing was for sure, it was hot as fuck. I shielded my eyes and glanced overhead at the red sun, which seemed larger than the one on Earth, and brighter.

Immediately, I peeled off my T-shirt, so I was just in a sports bra, and stuffed it into my bag. “Now where do we go?” I asked, scanning all of their faces for a glimmer of an answer.

“We head toward the mountains,” Maxar said, pointing to the distant hills. “The portal spat me out in this desert last time too. The only way I know that for sure is that peak right there.” He pointed toward the mountains and to the right where sure enough a steep, ominous peak, hauntingly resembling a dagger, stood up like a redwood among shrubs, looming over all the other rolling mountains. “There’s a small town on the other side of the mountains. We can get our bearings and figure out a plan from there. No matter what though, we can’t be in the desert when night falls.”

Sweat poured down my face and before we’d even gone a step, I untied my combat boots and yanked off my sweatpants, replacing them with some shorts that Melissima said I should pack. I’d scoffed at the suggestion, but now I was eternally grateful to the healer-mage.

Zandren looked epically put out from the heat and had ditched all of his clothes within minutes of putting them back on. Maxar didn’t seem any worse for wear; then again, he was a fire-mage and was probably a little chilly. Drak, however, looked close to death.

“Are you going to be okay in this heat?” I asked him as we trudged over the cracked ground. It looked like what had once been mud was now dried and fractured, lending to the eeriness of the entire area. Like at any moment, somebeastly sandworm might break through the cracks and devour us whole.

“I’ll be fine,” he murmured.

“Are there sandworms in Hell?” I asked, pivoting to look at Maxar.

“Yep.” He nodded causally, as if I’d just asked him if he’d like tomato on his BLT.

“And are they something we need to be worried about as we traipse across the desert?”

“I don’t think so,” he mused, providing me with zero reassurance. “I mean, maybe. I’ve never seen one. And I think the ground is too hard for them to live.” He stomped. “Hard packed. It’s not sand, it’s dirt. They can’t live in this … probably.”

My terror eased a little, but not much. I glanced over at Drak again. The man was paler than normal, and his entire face was a shiny sheen of sweat. Pausing, I rested my hand on his arm. “You’re going to pass out from the heat. You need to take off the freaking suit.”

“I’ll be fine.” He couldn’t meet my gaze.

“The fuck you are,” I spat back. “Look. I get that you’re reeling from the betrayal. And you’re allowed to grieve, but you can’t grieve if you’re passed out from heat exhaustion.” I laced my fingers through his and gave them a squeeze. “Please, Drak. I just saved your ass once. I’d rather not do it again so soon.”

“Technically, that was the second time you’ve saved his ass in like two days, considering you also let him feast on your blood to heal his injured leg.” Maxar glanced at Zandren. “Caused by the deranged bear, of course.”

“Not helping,” I shot back, glaring at the mage.

Drak pulled in a deep breath through his nose, closed his eyes for a moment, and seemed to be counting in his head or something. I squeezed his hand again, which prompted him to open his eyes and nod.

Then he peeled out of his suit jacket, followed by his white dress shirt, but apparently, he drew the line at removing his pants.

“Dick to the breeze is best,” Zandren said, shaking his head at Drak’s obstinance. “The more airflow, the better. Nothing like swamp crotch to turn off a mate.”

I rolled my eyes.

Without his shirt, Drak’s pale torso practically glowed against the red-brown dirt, but he seemed to be doing better and was no longer close to keeling over.

We had water in our backpacks, but sipped it sparingly.

“How long have we been walking for?” I asked, after we’d all been quiet for a while, conserving our energy.

“Twenty minutes,” Maxar said.

I gaped at him. “You’re kidding? It feels like hours. Those mountains are closer, aren’t they?”

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