surely neither could Rennirt. I must simply go deeper to find it. I slowed my breathing, calmed the beat of my heart. Being unable to move or to see seemed to help, to strengthen my inward focus.
And there it was, so deep in my soul I almost missed it. It was hard and cold, like a lump of ice. I touched it, gingerly, not wanting to damage it. It burned like fire yet left frostbite behind. Its heart was still aflame, just waiting to be loosened. Once the stone was out of my mouth, I knew my maejic would burst forth into life again. I need only be patient.
When my awareness of my surroundings returned, all I could hear was the crackling and snapping of the flames in the fireplace. Our guards must be asleep now. From outside came sounds of snuffling and the occasional stamp of horses’ hoofs. Inside, I identified six distinct breathing patterns: four slept, one was awake and alert—that must be the watch—and one shallow and labored: Traz.
I wanted to sleep, but the discomfort was too great. My shoulders and thighs ached, while I lost the feeling in my fingers, ears, and nose.
Then someone was fumbling with my bindings, and the jerks and tugs sent spasms of agony through my body. I must finally have dozed off, and I could have wished for a kinder awakening.
The tension on my legs eased. I tried to straighten them, but could barely move. Two of the women pulled me to my feet, but my legs couldn’t take the sudden strain and I collapsed right back down. My head cracked painfully on the floor.
“Oh, just carry her,” came the sharp command from the leader.
“Shall I give her some water?” asked a voice next to me.
The leader snorted. “A day without water isn’t going to be killing anyone.”
One of my captors shoved a shoulder into my stomach and lifted me. As she carried me away, colors that seemed to emanate from where my head had struck the floor flashed across the insides of my eyelids with each step.
Outside, she dumped me on the ground. After forcing me into a sitting position, she untied my hands from behind my back and retied them in front of me.
“I suppose you’ll be needing to relieve yourself. And you’d better, because I’m not wanting to smell your stink later.” She tugged down my trousers, and when I was finished, pulled them up again.
Then, with no more regard than if I were a sack of grain, she picked me up and tossed me across an unsaddled horse, my legs dangling down one side, my head and arms down the other. Just like Traz a few days ago, except, of course, that I was conscious. Another guard helped her to secure me in place with a harness while the others saddled the remaining horses.
The blood rushed to my head and I had to suppress the urge to vomit.
Someone shouted that breakfast was ready, and I was left to worry what would happen next, how long the ordeal ahead would last, and how badly they’d hurt Traz.
The meal seemed to drag on; with no points of reference, I couldn’t really tell the passage of time. I was all alone in my uncomfortable little world. The horse stamped impatiently several times, sending shudders through my frame.
After an interminable time, the guards came out, joking and laughing. They mounted up, and we all began to move. Each step sent a judder of pain through me. When, once the horses were warmed up for their day’s exercise, the leader sang out the order to trot, I wanted to scream. Instead, I passed out.
All day, I slipped in and out of consciousness. Each awakening was worse than the one before. My bones screamed in agony, my muscles froze into knots, and my tendons burned. But worst of all was the thirst. My lips felt cracked, and I was sure they must be bleeding. My whole body ached for water.
Early on, though I knew it would be useless, I tried to speak with the horse. If only I could make enough contact to get it to smooth its gait. That alone would be a triumph. Alas, the stone did exactly the job it was meant to.
The group stopped for
And there it was, so deep in my soul I almost missed it. It was hard and cold, like a lump of ice. I touched it, gingerly, not wanting to damage it. It burned like fire yet left frostbite behind. Its heart was still aflame, just waiting to be loosened. Once the stone was out of my mouth, I knew my maejic would burst forth into life again. I need only be patient.
When my awareness of my surroundings returned, all I could hear was the crackling and snapping of the flames in the fireplace. Our guards must be asleep now. From outside came sounds of snuffling and the occasional stamp of horses’ hoofs. Inside, I identified six distinct breathing patterns: four slept, one was awake and alert—that must be the watch—and one shallow and labored: Traz.
I wanted to sleep, but the discomfort was too great. My shoulders and thighs ached, while I lost the feeling in my fingers, ears, and nose.
Then someone was fumbling with my bindings, and the jerks and tugs sent spasms of agony through my body. I must finally have dozed off, and I could have wished for a kinder awakening.
The tension on my legs eased. I tried to straighten them, but could barely move. Two of the women pulled me to my feet, but my legs couldn’t take the sudden strain and I collapsed right back down. My head cracked painfully on the floor.
“Oh, just carry her,” came the sharp command from the leader.
“Shall I give her some water?” asked a voice next to me.
The leader snorted. “A day without water isn’t going to be killing anyone.”
One of my captors shoved a shoulder into my stomach and lifted me. As she carried me away, colors that seemed to emanate from where my head had struck the floor flashed across the insides of my eyelids with each step.
Outside, she dumped me on the ground. After forcing me into a sitting position, she untied my hands from behind my back and retied them in front of me.
“I suppose you’ll be needing to relieve yourself. And you’d better, because I’m not wanting to smell your stink later.” She tugged down my trousers, and when I was finished, pulled them up again.
Then, with no more regard than if I were a sack of grain, she picked me up and tossed me across an unsaddled horse, my legs dangling down one side, my head and arms down the other. Just like Traz a few days ago, except, of course, that I was conscious. Another guard helped her to secure me in place with a harness while the others saddled the remaining horses.
The blood rushed to my head and I had to suppress the urge to vomit.
Someone shouted that breakfast was ready, and I was left to worry what would happen next, how long the ordeal ahead would last, and how badly they’d hurt Traz.
The meal seemed to drag on; with no points of reference, I couldn’t really tell the passage of time. I was all alone in my uncomfortable little world. The horse stamped impatiently several times, sending shudders through my frame.
After an interminable time, the guards came out, joking and laughing. They mounted up, and we all began to move. Each step sent a judder of pain through me. When, once the horses were warmed up for their day’s exercise, the leader sang out the order to trot, I wanted to scream. Instead, I passed out.
All day, I slipped in and out of consciousness. Each awakening was worse than the one before. My bones screamed in agony, my muscles froze into knots, and my tendons burned. But worst of all was the thirst. My lips felt cracked, and I was sure they must be bleeding. My whole body ached for water.
Early on, though I knew it would be useless, I tried to speak with the horse. If only I could make enough contact to get it to smooth its gait. That alone would be a triumph. Alas, the stone did exactly the job it was meant to.
The group stopped for
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