Fugitive of the Sky

Chapter Sixteen: I Trusted You

The scream burst through her throat before she could give it words. Aqie staggered up and lunged for the tuft in the hunter's hands. His face was startled for a moment, then he stopped her with a hand and slapped her. The world went spinning and flashes burst everywhere in her vision. Aqie collapsed, hardly feeling the clunk of her head against the ground.

Pain. Throbbing. Swirling so much she couldn't think. Breathe. Darkness. Waves. Pain. Stay awake. Stay awa—Tilting, falling, swirling, pain. Flashes. Sparkles. Pounding, screaming, everything too much to hold. Blue and red and yellow and tears and water. Yawning, breaking betrayal.

He'd taken a piece of her kaprae.

Aqie tried to fight through the waves of pain, but they kept slamming her and sending her spinning. The chasm was wide open and she couldn't fall in, not that she could remember why at the moment. Think. She had to push through the pain and get her—she couldn't let him take it! Her face screamed and her thoughts whirled and she couldn't even tell whether her eyes were shut or open. Ow, ow, ow!

He'd hit her. The hunter that promised to protect her—he'd hit her! And he'd taken a piece of her kaprae. No, he'd taken her kaprae, and then cut a piece of it to give the yellow-skinned man. How could—he'd promised! She'd trusted him!

Aqie began to sob, half-silent tears that made her head pound and her chest hurt even more. He'd promised to protect her, he'd given her his word, she'd even half hoped he would help get her away from the hunters, but he'd taken all that and broken—no, torn—all that trust away. He was no better than the other hunters. He'd killed her parents, and now he was going to steal her kaprae!

She forced her eyes open, but she only saw smudges of yellow and brown she couldn't make sense of. She was only half sure it was real and not more sparkles moving. Was it ground? Buildings? The sky? No, that couldn't be right. The sky wasn't brown. Was it? Voices came in and out in time to the pounding her head was doing. She needed to listen to them—for what, again? Why did everything have to hurt so much?

Blobs moved into view, then out again, and Aqie realized she was still sobbing. "It's— mine," she tried to say. Surely they would believe it and Dad would make them stop. They couldn't take it away. It was hers, and he couldn't take it from her! But Dad wasn't here. She was with the hunter. He couldn't stop them. Dad and Mom were dead. More pain rose and dumped her into the chasm, sending her flailing in a frothing river where the current was too strong to swim. Aqie lost her grip on the edge and tumbled, down and around and down.

The clink of rocks, more words, and footsteps. Aqie slowly reoriented herself, lying crumpled in the road and staring at the flickering edge of torchlight on the ground. She wanted to see where the hunter was, but she didn't dare move. Her breath still came in gasps and her nose was blocked.

The hunter crouched down in front of her. "What were you thinking?!" His face was twisted with true anger.

Aqie couldn't find something coherent to say. "You took— You cut— You gave it to him— It's mine!" Crying began to get the better of her again.

"I had to, don't you understand? He was going to take you if I didn't!"

"I don't care!" Aqie wailed. "You broke your promise! I trusted y—"

The hunter clamped a hand over her mouth. "I only promised to protect you, and I can't do that if you're only trying to get us killed! Be quiet, or you'll set the Trot's soldiers on us!"

Aqie pulled futilely at his hand. "Woowitme!" Some snot caught in her throat and made her cough. She heaved out a couple more sobbing breaths as the hunter slowly took away his hand. "You hit me!"