7 #4
But the woman’s body goes limp. She passed out from the pain, and unless the wyvern rider comes to her aid, she will likely bleed out while she’s unconscious.
“We won’t be getting any information from her.” I climb to my feet, wobbling a bit. Vawn steadies me.
“I’m leaving the ax here,” he says quietly, and I don’t ask for an explanation. Maybe he’s lazy and doesn’t want to carry it, but I suspect he never wants to touch it again after using it to sever a woman’s leg.
I’m comfortable with leaving the ax behind, but I search the woman for anything else we can use, taking a few coins and the long black sash she has wound several times around her waist. It’s clean, and the cloth could be useful for bandages at some point.
Vawn guides me to the spot where he left the damaged carpet, rolled up neatly on a patch of moss. “He said he’s not in pain, but he’s distressed, and he can’t fly with his corner nearly severed. We’ll have to carry him.”
“I suppose it can’t be helped. Can you—”
But Vawn is staggering into the undergrowth, retching. He doubles over and vomits his breakfast onto the roots of a tree.
I grab some fresh moss, hand it to him, and shoulder the carpet myself. “Wipe your mouth. Let’s go.”
We walk, and we walk. Vawn complains about the swarms of gnats, the spiderwebs, the clumps of smelly mushrooms, the roots that trip him up, the thorns that catch on his pants, the animal droppings, our utter lack of cigarettes and wine, the loss of his glyphs, and the inconvenience of being hunted.
I suspect he’s only doing it to distract himself from the darkness that might otherwise creep into his mind, but after hours of listening to him, I start to wonder how bad it would be if I killed him myself.
Around sunset we stumble onto a damp hollow of thick grass, most of which is pressed down as if heavy bodies have lain on it for hours.
“A unicorn bedding area,” I murmur, picking up a long strand of glowing hair. “They leave their beds in the evening and roam the forest at night. We must have just missed them.”
Vawn bends down to collect a few more strands of unicorn hair. “Maybe we could use these to mend the carpet, at least temporarily.”
“That’s actually a good idea.”
“Don’t sound so fucking surprised,” he mutters.
“There aren’t any foals here, so it should be safe to stay in this clearing for a while,” I muse. “The unicorns won’t be back for hours, and their scent will keep other beasts away.”
Vawn unrolls the damaged carpet while I open the little pouch on my belt where I keep a few sewing supplies. I only have two needles, one for thin types of cloth and the other for thick materials. I choose the larger of the two and slip the end of a unicorn hair through its eye.
“What are you two planning?” asks the carpet in a faint, thready voice.
“Please tell me you are not going to make some clumsy attempt to repair me. Did you learn nothing from what I shared about the intricacies of carpet weaving? Are you so full of hubris that you believe your clumsy ministrations are equal to the skill of trained crafters?”
“I am pretty full of hubris,” I say blandly, draping the carpet over my lap and aligning the damaged corner. “Be still, so I can get this right.”
“You won’t get it right. You’re going to mess up the pattern. I won’t be able to fly properly.”
“Will you be able to fly improperly?”
The carpet’s tassels bristle. “I don’t even know what you mean by that. Yes, I might be able to fly, but—”
“Improper flight suits us just fine,” I cut in. “We need to put more distance between us and the place where we entered the forest.”
“My glow will attract the eyes of your pursuers,” says the carpet.
“Yes, we’ll be more visible above the canopy, but if we stay down here, we’re going to be trampled by unicorns or eaten by panthers or wolves. At least in the sky, we can weave among the hills and hopefully lose anyone who tries to follow us. Now hold still.”
I do my best to stitch the nearly-severed corner back on, but when we’re finally airborne again, the carpet flies erratically—or drunkenly, as Vawn puts it. The motion is so bad that I have to close my eyes and breathe deeply to fight off the nausea in my stomach.
“I think you’re exaggerating the problem on purpose,” I groan after an especially dizzying drop and swerve.
“I am simply welcoming you to the consequences of your actions,” says the carpet. “I’m beginning to wish you had never smashed that aerie and let me out.”
“What a coincidence, I was just wishing the same thing. In fact, I was wishing that I had grabbed onto literally any other carpet. Something more docile.”
“Then you would both already be dead,” Severin snaps. “My speed, my evasive skills, my capacity for independent thought, and my keen understanding of humans are all of inestimable value to fugitives such as yourselves.”
“And we are grateful,” Vawn says.
My stomach lurches as the carpet veers dramatically to the left. “Careful, kiss-ass,” I mutter to the prince. “I might vomit on you, completely by accident.”