Red Rivers and Nightmares

21. Of Lunete and Futures

Heavy breathing in the tent has me waking up. I rub at my eyes as I sit up. My loose hair falls over my shoulders so that there are streams of honey weaving a lazy path down my shirt. My hands still and I blink and what looks like actual honey becomes clearly my hair.

I shrug off the oddity as a weird occurrence from my just waking mind and then I look around the tent. The light has dimmed even more from when I was brought in but is not dim enough to explain the shadowed corners in the tent around me. I feel my shoulders tense when the heavy breathing returns and, for some inexplicable reason, I cannot tear my eyes from the shadowed corner in front of me.

My hands grip cloth and I have this sudden urge to hide under the blankets like I did as a small child. I am being ridiculous. I try to concentrate on my own breathing over the disembodied panting. There are others around, it is entirely likely somebody is nearby and dreaming.

I am just about calmed from my growing anxiety when a dark hand claws its way from the shadowed corner. I strangle a cry as the shadows slide back from the hand to reveal tanned skin that is roughened by hard labor. It reaches forward and claws into the dirt, leaving gouges in the earth.

I tremble as I hold back tears and any whimpers that try to break free through the tightness in my throat. It claws forward once more. The arm that is pulling itself slowly forward from that shadowed place is liberally lacerated with cuts. Some are so deep the bone peeks through as muscles tighten and relax, pulling the skin this way and that. Blood drips, leaving a trail in its wake.

Further scratching noises have me looking wildly at the other corners to see other wounded limbs reaching for me and inching closer, ever so slowly.

I cannot help it as I release a small cry and scramble out of my sleeping bag. I am bent nearly in half as I push against the flap. I nearly scream hysterically as it resists. I am only stopped by a quick look back that tells me that the shadowy hands/arms are still moving as slow as before. I stumble to the ground, scraping my hands and knees on the ground as the flap gives. I do not look over myself. I do not look back. I just run forward.

Running so hard my feet pound the ground. Running until I begin to feel the start of sweat. It feels like I have been running for much too long with nobody around when I come to a sudden halt.

Weret is in front of me but I do not dare to jump into their welcoming and loving embrace. They are poison. I can feel the destruction and madness they carry within their deceptively calm waters.

I fidget as I still feel the need to run, to get away from whatever that was. I look back to make sure that those things are not chasing me. My hopes are dashed as the shadows I ran from are slithering ever closer. I just know that if they touch me that I will be swallowed, never to be heard from again.

When I look forward again there is a boat, just waiting to be boarded, on Weret. The tightness in my chest loosens as I clamber into the only safety around me.

I feel my magic reaching far, but as the boat moves forward I forget about the feeling as it too goes away. I relax and the sun begins to quickly fall. The rocking lulls me into what I am sure will be a deep sleep. I resist the temptation as I fold my arms on the edge of the boat and then lay my head on them to get the best, close up view of Weret.

Somewhere I register that everything is getting darker as my heart rate calms. That is when I notice the faces in the water. The one facing up by me is Fia's. I want to push away and hide my face into the bottom of the boat but I feel my gaze drawn to the back of the heads next to her.

A slow current slaps against the boat and the bodies slowly turn around, revealing the faces as Rion's siblings. Lunete's mouth opens but I hear no sounds from it, as I stay stuck on her cloudy, bloody eyes. So concentrated am I on her face that I miss the hands reaching for me. Until a desiccated hand touches my wrist.