Page 6 of Stars in Umbra
They touched your mind, twisted it.
In time, he found a tendril of survival instinct and rose to his unsteady feet.
He kept stumbling on, driven by the need to find heat, water, and nutrition.
He pushed over sand bluffs and cliff sides.
The rocks tore at his hands as he scrabbled over them, and stones bit into his side every time he fell.
Night midges bothered him, buzzing and nipping at his salt-soaked body.
It was torture, and he was about to lose all hope when he spotted a light in the distance.
On he trudged, pulling strength from an almost supernatural source within him.
Then came a short fence which he scaled and stumbled over.
Followed by a wall of heat, the unexpected breath and snort of animals, the lack of wind, and a lamp burning in a corner.
A mound of pliable, sweet hay beckoned to him, and he collapsed onto his side, curled into himself, chest rising and falling with shallow, ragged breaths.
With a sigh, he gave in to the embrace of deep, dreamless slumber.
He woke to the sound of quiet breathing and eyes on him.
Soft golden morning light filtered through the slats of rough-hewn wood.
Dust danced in lazy spirals above him, and the scent of fodder, earth, and horses filled his nose.
He tore his crusted eyes wider to blink up into the face of a girl.
She was younger than he, in her early to mid-teens.
She had brown doe eyes ringed with the longest lashes he’d ever seen.
Her brown braids were pulled back in a loose wrap, and there was a smudge of dirt on her cheek.
She was the prettiest thing he’d set eyes on.
‘You’re awake,’ she whispered.
He stirred, the straw beneath him rustling.
A thick ache spread through his chest, and his limbs were ponderous as though they’d been poured full of wet sand.
Nearby, horses eyed him from their stalls, ears twitching, nostrils flaring, a soft harrumph and snort coming from one of the larger ones.
His eyes sliced back to her, and he attempted to speak, but his raw and aching throat didn’t allow it.
All he managed was a groan.
She tilted her head in understanding and moved to a nearby trough.
Dipping a tin cup into it, she brought it back and held it to his lips.
He drank the cold contents greedily as she peered at him, crouched on her haunches, those appealing eyes on him.
The hydration worked its magic, washing away the brine and dirt that caked his tongue.
