Page 111 of Starside

20

The rain continues all through the night, and into the morning. By the time it ends, I’m cold to the bone. But my canteen is full. My throat is blissfully smooth.

My clothes slowly dry in the dappled sunlight. By midday, we find a forest that isn’t rotted, and my knees nearly buckle with relief. Especially when I find a single fertile bush bursting with berries. I pick every single one, cutting my fingers on the thorns, but I don’t care. I’m so desperate for food that I shove the fruit into my mouth. I wordlessly extend a handful to Raker, and he takes it.

It’s the only fruit for miles. I scour every tree, every bush, but there isn’t so much as a single mushroom. The woods empty out into a wide plain. There’s a stream running through it. It’s almost clear, just a shade of gray—and our shelter for the night, by the looks of it.

I half expect Raker to leave me here without another word, but he slides into a defensive stance, showing me quickly. “Got it?” he says.

I nod. I slip into it, and he barks a few orders, a few fixes, then leaves with his things, ducking into the woods.

I hold the position for as long as I can. When hours pass without Raker resurfacing, I begin to alternate through all the stances he’s shown me. The sword feels looser in my hand. More fluid.

Just as I think I could take on Harlan Raker himself, I stumble forward, nearly dropping the sword. Fuck.

A laugh sounds behind me.

I spin on my heel.

Two immortals—no more than children—are standing there, watching me. Tossing the coin I emptied from my pocket to train.

“Hey!” I yell, and they don’t run, or set it down. No. They have the nerve to look amused. “That’s mine!”

They don’t even stop throwing it back and forth. It’s as if I haven’t spoken at all.

“I have a sword!” I bellow, lifting it.

One of the boys snorts. “Yes, and by the looks of it, you can’t even use it.” My eyes narrow.

Enough. I take off toward them, but they’re across the clearing in a flash. They’re laughing. Then they’re tearing through the forest, fast as lightning, turning to look at me instead of looking ahead and still somehow avoiding the branches, while also continuing their game.

I’m short by most standards, but I’m much taller than them. I have longer legs. Still, they are immortal, and I don’t have a chance of keeping up.

A growl escapes my lips as I listen to my coin clinking as it’s thrown between them, glinting beneath the sun. I worked hard to get that coin. I need it.

They make a sharp turn, and I throw myself through the brush, needles stinging, leaves clinging to my sweaty face.

But their steps have stopped. I would have thought they had climbed into the trees if I didn’t hear one of them say, finally, with a shred of shame, “We were just playing. We weren’t really going to take it.”

Raker. He must have caught them.

I lunge forward, feeling a little smug—then stop when I see another immortal standing at the center of the forest.

And she’s not a child. No, she’s a tall woman, with a bow on her back. My breath hitches.

With superior speed, her eyes meet mine. The sharpness of her expression has me stumbling back—but it’s immediately replaced by a friendly, if not abashed, smile.

Still. She’s immortal. I have no clue where Raker is. And, as this child very helpfully pointed out, I can’t really use my sword yet.

I begin to retreat, my hands up, all but pleading that they please take my coin and have a very nice day.

“Don’t be afraid, human,” the immortal says.

I am still very much afraid, thank you. I take another step back.

She takes a step forward. “I apologize for my boys. They should never have taken from you.” With brutal speed, she looks back at the children, snarling.

At that look, they mumble apologies, clearly more afraid of their mother than the sword slung against my spine.