Chapter 19
Under Stormy Skies
Iwoke up to the taste of blood. My entire head ached. I probed the inside of my mouth with my tongue, wincing when I hit an open cut on my inner cheek. I must have bitten myself when I fell. No missing teeth. Blinking up at the stippled gray sky, Pasha’s face stared down at me.
“Welcome back.” She held out a hand to help me sit up. Nausea threatened at the movement, and I held a muddy hand to my head “Are you alright? Did you fall? Georlan! Get over here!” she called out behind her.
My mind took several seconds to remember everything that had happened. Bending sideways, I barely managed to twist in time before I threw up. Pasha rubbed slow circles on my lower back, pulling stray hair away from my face until the nausea passed.
“No,” I gasped, grabbing at my hair. The sudden movement made the headache roar to life.
The cradle braid had several strands pulled out from the sides, and no flowers woven into it.
Frantic, I looked down at the ground and let out a sigh of relief to see two plucked flowers nearby in the mud. At least Orin hadn't taken all of them.
“What happened?” she asked, noticing the wet red tinge on her fingers from touching my hair, and the flowers on the ground.
Massaging my temples, I tried to push down the throbbing. “Orin,” I muttered. “He saw me climbing and had me get two extra flowers for him, but then when I climbed down he demanded more, too.”
Pasha's eyes widened. “What?”
“He's convinced it’s unfair that Mikaela and I get to take back more,” I said, testing my jaw.
It didn't feel broken, only bruised. “Probably left after he knocked me out. I hope he gets lost out here.” I scooped up the flowers off the ground, trying to angle them so the rain washed some of the grime off them. They’d seen better days.
Georlan appeared from between some nearby bushes, heading toward us. “What's the big—” his eyes rounded when they landed on me.
Pasha helped me stand. “Are you, no of course you're not alright,” she said. “It’s only around ten, do you think you'll be able to make it back?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Did you already get your flowers?” Pasha pointed toward a rock I hadn't noticed behind her, where six fresh flowers sat.
“Can you run while holding that many?” I asked. Georlan was holding two of his own as well.
“I'm going to try,” Pasha said, rubbing at cuts on her palm from the bracts. “And if I'm feeling up to it, I'll make another trip back for another half dozen.” She bit her lip, hesitating as if to say something.
“What happened?” Georlan cut in before she could.
“I'll fill you in later,” Pasha replied. She still looked like she wanted to say something.
“Go on,” I urged. Thunder clapped overhead.
“I think...you shouldn't run back. You’re too pale,” she steadied me when I started to tip sideways from the queasiness twisting my innards.
“I second that opinion,” Georlan added. “Here.” He reached down and popped a seam, tearing off a strip of fabric from the bottom of his shirt, wrapping it around the back of my head and tying it on my forehead. “That should help.”
“Thanks. I guess no double trips for me.” I took deep breaths while my balance returned. “I'll be walking my way back.”
“Maybe rest first,” Pasha advised. She looked around, “But uh, do you know which way we need to go to get back?”
I think I smiled, it was hard to tell with how sore my jaw felt. “Yeah.” Looking at the vegetation around us I pointed northwest.
“Okay. I better get going in case I decide to make two trips.” Pasha chewed on her nails, still watching me. “Are you sure you'll be okay?”
“Go.” I waved her off. “Thanks for the concern, but if I don't make it back that's a me-problem, not a you-problem. You won't have time to make two trips if you don't head back soon.”
“She's got a point,” Georlan said. “Jeesh though, you sure you'll be able to make it back by yourself?”
“I think so.” I probed my swollen jaw again with a wince. “Just need to take it slow.”
“I'll try to follow the same path I took the first time, if I do make another run,” Pasha promised. “If I see you on it, I'll help you get all the way back before sundown.”
I know I smiled then, a genuine warm smile. “Thanks, Pasha.”
As far as I was concerned, Orin was a sack of shit.
But having Pasha and Georlan also on my team almost made up for it.
Waiting an hour under the shelter of a tree for my headache to fade before heading back tested the limits of my patience. Banana snails, slugs, and worms kept silent company.
My steps were slow and the rainfall that beat down against me didn't make things any easier. Pain, my old friend, took a vacation with me every time I put weight on my bad ankle. But I kept putting one foot in front of the other, determined to make it back.
I clutched my flowers by their root bulbs, careful not to crush them as I traveled.
Lightning and thunder made a symphony of colors and noise as I went. Every step was harder, each fresh stab of pain preventing me from numbing myself to it.
I distracted myself by mentally running through the notes on clouds I could remember. Nimbus, Cumulus, Cirrus...
Inevitably though, my mind returned to the Reformatory, and Nikolach’s approaching release date. He'd be eager to carry out the threat he'd made on my life.
I had no plan for how to deal with him. Being in Voyager training would only protect me for so long, but after I graduated, he'd find me. Maybe I'd get lucky and he'd get locked up again before he could reach me.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that it didn't register immediately when I approached Opae River.
Something visceral sunk in my gut as I saw it.
The low-hanging palm bridges I'd used to cross the first time were submerged.
The edges of them were barely visible beneath the raging current, which was rushing with enough speed to carry away a small child.
The river itself had swollen out several yards from the edges of the riverbed, a quagmire of mud and sandy loam frothing from the flood waters.
Crossing was going to be slippery and incredibly dangerous.
If I lost my footing, there was a good chance the current would drag me under.
I was already soaked slick, with a weakened ankle.
The wind was strong enough that the possibility of falling was likelier than not.
And if that happened, I would need both hands to stabilize myself, or swim. Otherwise, I'd drown.
The river was surging fast enough that trying to swim while holding onto the flowers would shred them to an unrecognizable pulp.
Looking at the flowers in my hands, I didn't remember them being on the list of poisonous plants on Mesmoria, certainly not contact-toxic like Jatropha. Now, I’d have to trust my life to my memory’s accuracy.
Carefully, I put the stem of both flowers between my teeth, locking down despite the ache in my jaw.
Lightning flashed overhead, followed by a deep vibration of thunder.
I took one shivering step forward into the river where it now extended out past even the edge of the bridge.
It was freezing, intense enough to shock even through my boots.
At least the temperature soothed my ankle a tad.
Something hard rushed against me, maybe a rock, but I pressed forward. The water was up to my knees.
Three careful steps later, there was palm wood under my feet.
It was worse than the mud, which had squished beneath me and held me more firmly in place.
The palm wood was fully soaked through, and slippery as sin.
My shoulders and head barely crested above the water as I sucked in careful breaths through my nose.
I took two more steps before I stumbled, nearly falling into the turbulent waters. Balancing myself again with sheer will power, I didn’t waste time steadying myself before rushing forward. I was more than halfway now, I could make it!
Another blinding flash and boom caught me off guard and had me stumbling again, wind cutting into my soaked skin. I pressed forward, focusing as something rough slammed into my waist before being dragged away by the current.
Just a few more steps.
Relief washed through me as mud squelched beneath my boots. The water level reached my elbows now.
Confidence rising, I pulled the flowers from my mouth, shivering in the crushing cold.
Three more steps and the water was only at my waist.
An overwhelming wall of light hit a nearby palm tree, bark exploding out in a small fire before it was immediately quenched out. The rumbling of thunder was deafening.
Temporarily unable to hear, the roar of a swell cresting toward me went unnoticed. It flashed in my peripheral vision two seconds too late.
Twisting myself to get out of the way, I fell to my hands and knees as my head went under the water line. I pushed back up against the pressure of the water clamping me down, managing to regain my footing as I gasped for air.
Too late, I realized that I'd lost my grip on one flower when I fell.
If I tried to catch up to it with the current going as strong as it was, I wouldn't make it to the outpost before sunset.
Gritting my teeth against the protesting pain of my ankle and the ice settling into my bones through my frozen skin, I turned away from the river and continued walking back.
It took closer to two hours to walk the final stretch, injured as I was. And every step was arduous. Distantly, I wondered if I was suffering from the starting stages of hypothermia. I could no longer feel the fingers that gripped my last remaining blossom.
Trudging back through the gate, I held my flattened and mud-caked King Protea close to my chest. My teammates were gathered where we'd first introduced ourselves, holding their own flowers. Displeasure darkened my expression when I saw Orin. Pasha wasn't with the team.
“Cutting it a bit close,” Georlan said as I approached. There wasn’t enough strength left in me to respond.
“How many did you get?” Mikalyn asked, and I held up the one drooping flower I'd managed to obtain. “Oh, well, that's okay! One is better than none.”
Her confidence in that far outshone my own.
I sent an ugly look at Orin, who avoided looking at me.
Searching the courtyard, I noted that Sarina's team hadn't returned yet. Unease stirred to life in my gut.
Rosa and Benji both looked like they were injured, she was cradling her left arm with her right, and he had a bloody trail of scrapes down what I could see of his right arm and leg. They both held onto two flowers though.
Pasha was standing beside Zevrial near a wall. Relief shot through me. It looked like they were in a deep conversation. The expression on his face was murderous.
Izaiah and Talissa looked no worse for wear, both clutching several flowers in their hands.
My breath snagged as I caught sight of Henrik.
There were only four people standing where his team should be.
One half of his face was darkening into a plum hue, his right eye swollen shut.
There was a trail of blood snaking its way down the side of his face from his hairline.
His right arm was limp at his side, and covered in bloody injuries.
I took a step toward him but stopped when Zevrial approached him before I could.
“We only have about ten minutes ‘til sundown.” Pasha returned to our team, wiping rainwater out of her face. “Do you think the last team will make it back?”
“Better for us if they don't,” Orin replied.
“My roommate is on that team.” I glared at him.
“Oh,” he said, unmoved.
My nerves had me fidgeting as we waited for the final team to return. Or maybe it was because I still couldn't feel my hands. The sun was a shrouded sliver of gray light above the horizon now. There wasn't much time left.
“C'mon, come on Sarina,” I muttered.
The squishing sound of heavy footfalls carried ahead of their owners. The breath I'd been holding came out in a whoosh as her team poured through the gate.
Like everyone else here, they were covered in mud-soaked clothes and looked haggard. Unlike everyone else, they didn't appear to have any injuries, and in their arms they carried–
“Are those baskets?” Mikalyn asked, studying the same thing I was.
They looked like nets, with fibrous rope twined together in a tight mesh and crude handles made of tangled knots.
There was no doubt in my mind they were homemade by the craftsmanship.
Each member of her team carried one, except Sarina who held one in each arm.
And they were each filled to the brim with flowers.
“Holy Devourer,” Georlan breathed.
They easily had twenty King Protea blooms each.