Guardian: The Camp

I welcomed the sight of the river, though I wished it didn't waver like a heat-mirage; it shouldn't — a deathly chill clung to me, and the sun held no warmth. That light source was high in the sky before we reached the waterway, and I'd lost track of the times we'd hung up on a bit of scrub or rock. Each time, my heart beat like my falcon's wings when stooping and the world solidified a bit. Then the mindless trudging resumed and grey, then black, edged my vision.

Tyr's querulous harping had long since faded into the background, so when she stopped walking, the pole jerked from my grip and I fumbled with both hands to avoid dropping it altogether. Pain wrenched through me, and I sank to my knees, gasping.

"I said, we need to switch sides." Tyr's voice cut through everything, but I couldn't answer beyond a quick headshake that set the world spinning.

"We have to — My hand's blistering."

Her callousness robbed any breath that pain hadn't already stolen, and it took a moment for my training to kick in.

'It's not her fault. She's worried about Grig, and not thinking straight. So you need to.' Blinking my eyes back into focus, I assessed. 'If you stand between the poles, you can still drag it from the other side.' A shiver racked my body as I stood up, and I tugged Sorcha's cloak close. My muscles throbbed, and each time I let my broken wrist dip below my heart, it felt like it would burst.

"Are there any bandages left?" I asked.

"By the Path, are your brains made of dross?" Tyr stomped forward to block my path, hands on hip. "Bandages don't fix blisters. They'll rub and make things worse!"

"Nevermind." I knelt to grab the pole Tyr's held all morning. "Let's just go."

"You can't do it that way. Get on the outside!"

My eyes slipped closed, and I fought for patience.

"And why are you holding your arm like that? What, your blisters are so much worse than mine?" Shaking her head, Tyr scoffed. "Butterflies."

I flopped onto my butt between the poles. Breath caught in my throat like icy claws and I wondered how the crisp autumn had grown so cold overnight. 'Doesn't Tyr feel it?'

"Useless. Let me see." Tyr latched onto my hand and yanked.

Agony shot through me again and the blackness returned, stronger. The ringing in my ears drowned out Tyr's caustic voice and oblivion swallowed me.

♫♪♫♪

The rush of water over rocks drew me back, but the sound echoed as if it came from hundreds of wingspans away. Cold devoured my flesh, but it, too, was distant and numbed some of the throbbing pain that radiated from… somewhere. When I pried my eyes open, the sun rode high, blocked by a few willow branches.

'Now you've done it. You're late for class.'

A frown tugged at my lips.

'No, that's… That's not right.'

My hand came up to rub my face. Or rather, I told it to, and after a few heartbeats, it twitched. My pulse gave an awkward little jump, like it tried to race and decided it was too much work.

"When did you break it?" Tyr's voice was quieter, fragile at the edges, but it brought the present rushing back.

"B—" The word caught in my throat and I coughed to clear it. An uncharacteristically kind hand raised my head and dribbled tepid water into my mouth.

"Back when I told you to run," I said once I could speak. "Landed wrong."

"So when you jumped from the tree? When you tried to help—" Tyr broke off with an anguished stare at Grig's too-still body.

My brow furrowed as I tried to understand her problem.

"I mean, didn't it hurt?" Tyr's eyes focused on me, making me realize she hadn't really looked at me before this.

Then her question registered.

"Bones! Of course, it hurt." Still hurts. And something else is wrong, too. But what? "You didn't expect me to let Grig face that Infected alone?"

Her expression more than answered me, but she didn't stop there.

"Butterflies run." She shrugged. "Always have. Always will."

I opened my mouth to protest.

'You do. There's no point denying it.'

Shoving upright with my good arm supporting me, I panted through the dizziness and glared at Tyr.

"When has anyone given us cause to stay?" 'You're welcome where you're useful and dismissed once your message is delivered.' The chipped story crystal bit into my palm — a small pain that somehow cut through the throb of my broken wrist and malaise. I blinked, looking down at the swollen flesh pressing against my gauntlet's open palm and the clumsily wrapped bandage, and wondered when I'd grabbed the rock.

"What do you mean by that?" Hostility filled Tyr's voice again, and I nearly sobbed in relief at the return to normal. "We didn't chase you out."

"You weren't there when they burned our Post, either." Twisting to get a knee beneath me, I clambered to my feet and grabbed the frame's pole.

"How do you know that?" Tyr's furious gaze gave me pause, and I released the pole. "You weren't there either."

'She's right.' I stuffed the story crystal into my pouch and bent to touch Grig's forehead. His skin was clammy, but he still breathed as I tucked his cloak tighter. 'It's a story, not history, even if it feels real in your dreams.'

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" I scrubbed my face with my intact hand, grimacing at the crusted blood on my palm. 'Grig's blood.' I shivered, cold and dizzy. "We can argue later. Let's get Grig to someone who can help."

For a moment, I didn't think Tyr would let it go. Then she sighed and unbent from where she knelt.

"Fine. but if you fall in the river, don't expect me to go in after you."

"Hadn't planned on it." With a grunt, I hoisted my end of the drag, then had to lock my knees when my head swam.

"This isn't going to—"

"It will," I cut Tyr off. "It has to." I threw my weight forward, and the frame stuttered into motion.

"Butterflies are supposed to be flighty." Tyr kept pace, pulling her share of the load.

"Maybe…" My head throbbed, and I gasped for air. "It's… time… to… change."

♫♪♫♪

Determination kept me upright, but when Tyr signaled a stop — by halting so that the additional weight forced it — I fell to my knees. The frame crashed to the ground, and Grig rocked limply.

"Hey! Watch it!" Tyr's sharp tone cut through the haze.

Twisting, I checked to be sure he hadn't fallen off. My vision waved in and out of focus, but Tyr smoothed Grig's hair before stepping away.

'He's breathing. Right?'

"That's it." Tyr pointed, and I blearily tracked her gesture.

A cluster of colorful tents, encased in a faint blue shimmer — 'unless that's your eyes playing tricks' — lay on the far side of the river. The bank was ripped and torn, with chunks of wood and debris strewn about. Wide swaths of mud showed where the millpond used to rest. We'd stopped at a narrow jut of higher, grassy earth that led to the remains of the destroyed dam and the free-flowing river.

Dull dismay pulsed through my veins. The river wasn't the biggest I'd seen, but here and now it might as well be a trap spider's web.

"That's it?" I croaked, then cleared my throat. "How are we supposed to get over there?"

"The same way Gri—" Choking, Tyr scowled. "By boat."

'You don't have one.' With a hand pressed to my aching head, I assessed our options. 'Maybe they were dropped off, and whoever did it took the boat back across. So we'd need to let them know we're here.' Yesterday — or even this morning — it would've been a simple thing for me to summon help. 'Assuming they'd listen to you.'

"How?" The abrupt question was a white flag, admitting I had no power here. I was out of ideas.

"Useless." Tyr climbed on the tallest piece of debris and waved her hands over her head.

My eyes refused to focus across the river, so I didn't try. Instead, I let my eyes slip closed and focused on the niggling sense that something wasn't right. Unease slid up and down my spine and my heart crept up my throat. Breath short, my eyes snapped open, and I whirled to check behind me.

The world bobbled and steadied, revealing…

'Nothing. And what did you expect?' Mud seeped through the knees of my denims, drawing a shiver from me. I rocked back on my heels and chafed my bare skin, then tugged Sorcha's cloak tighter around my shoulders. Mud and blood smears stained the cloth, and I rubbed at them futilely.

A hint of motion drew my attention back to the litter. My breath caught in my throat, forcing me to swallow hard before I could speak.

"Grig?" 'Was he waking for the first time since the attack?' I crawled forward to lean over him. His eyes weren't open and his face was still, but his body, nestled beneath a cloak, wriggled. 'Not like a human, though.' My fuzzy brain tried to make sense of what I was seeing, but a sudden shove interrupted me.

The force of Tyr's push sent me tumbling. If I'd been tracking better, I'd have expected it of her — she was far more invested in Grig's well-being than mine. 'For good reason,' I acknowledged as I twisted so I didn't land on my broken wrist. I caught a hint of slender, black-furred somethings slipping from beneath Grig's cover and launching themselves toward Tyr before I struck the soggy ground shoulder-first. The dyke's slope gave no respite, however, and I rolled, hitting with my knees, butt, and elbows.

"Ahhgg—" Tyr's scream ended in a gurgle, and I twisted, trying to see. Black, snakey shapes with short, clawed legs clambered over her falling body. One had red-stained teeth sunk in her throat.

'Infected? How did they get here?' The sight distracted me, and on my next rotation, my hand crashed into the ground, bending my wrist backward with a harsh grate of bone on bone. My vision flashed white, then black, and my mouth opened in a breathless scream. Ringing filled my ears as the river closed over my head.