Page 156 of Starside

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When I finally step out of the underground, my knees buckle. I close my eyes against the burning light and finally breathe in fresh air after the staleness of below.

Raker’s a few steps ahead, but I don’t even acknowledge him. Not after—

No. I won’t think about it. He’s right. It wasn’t real. Raker is incapable of wanting anyone, least of all me, someone with traitorous secrets across her skin. If only the head of the king’s guard, a knight trained to kill or capture anything silver, knew what he had been touching.

Even in the dark … that was reckless. Stupid.

On the other side of the gates, I don’t doubt a glimpse at my bare skin would have him dragging me straight to the king himself, which might as well be a death sentence.

Yes.

Fuck. Him.

Finally, I get to my feet, eyes on the horizon, dread curling in my gut. The land in front of us has been razed. There’s no green. Just an empty crater sits where a lake once must have.

My eyes burn. I would cry if I had the liquid to spare.

I expect Raker to stalk off ahead, but he waits, back toward me, until I’m closer, and then he takes off, a wall of metal.

When dusk falls, we can’t find a cave with water, so we make camp by the remnants of a stream, no more than a few puddles of misty water we lay in the middle of. It’s not ideal. Not even a little bit. But I would sleep on a bed of nails right now.

I collapse against the ground, and I don’t even have the energy to dream.

We take off at the first sign of sunrise. We don’t speak, and I’m grateful. Anger and hurt still churn in my chest. I’d be happy if we spent the rest of this journey in silence.

It’s been more than two days without food or water. My heart is beating too quickly, like a last burst of life, a final, desperate push. Nausea roils through me. It’s an effort to take every step, but my body moves anyway, knowing very well that I will die if I stay still.

It’s not just me that’s affected. Raker is moving slower than he ever has. I want to suggest he take off the armor, leave it behind, but after having said those words underground—in a desperate plea—in very different circumstances … I decide to keep my mouth shut.

The land slopes like it’s melting. I ready myself for more desolation, for more thirst.

But there’s something green ahead. A forest? Hope surges through me until we reach the putrid waters.

A bog.

A scraping sound escapes the back of my throat, a weak little noise that Raker ignores.

My veins feel dry. My breaths are shallow. I can’t keep going. I must keep going.

Because there is clean water close by. If this journey has taught me anything, it’s that there is always an end to the turmoil. Always an end to the rot, and the mists, and the darkness.

I just have to keep walking.

Thick trees abound, half rotted and wrapped in vines covered in thick barbs. The waters are various shades of murky gray. There’s no way around, only through.

One moment of frustration.

Then I follow Raker into the water.

It reaches his knees. At my height, it reaches my waist. I keep my distance, watching him move, to make sure the water doesn’t deepen.

It doesn’t. It’s still and steady, and it smells disgusting. My body lurches with a retch, but there’s nothing in my stomach to vomit.

Insects buzz around us, the sound spiraling through my mind. Thick, black moss covers sections of the water. I push through it, frowning at its grittiness. I slide my feet against the ground, kicking hard objects out of my way. Strange. My mouth opens when I feel something new. A caress against my leg, like a piece of fabric.

I pause. In front of me, Raker keeps going, parting the waters with his broad body. My voice is hardly more than a rasp as I finally break our silence. “Do you—”