Against the Wind

19.2 || Amina

As long hours dredged up the rising sun and heat basked the unending sand, Amina's mood did not improve. The air's warmth was pleasant for only a handful of minutes; it was kind as it burned the chill from her bones, but grew harsher and drier until it was a whip to the skin on the back of her neck, baking her from the outside in.

The heat was not usually her enemy. On any other day, she would've tipped her head back and welcomed the sun's kiss, yet there was a stinging malice to its touch today. It might as well have been a beast itself for how it gnawed at her. The horizon was still bathed in crimson, and already her head had begun to throb, skull thick and heavy as pain cut a line down to the bridge of her nose. She rubbed at it and dragged her nails across her scalp in frustration, wishing she could crawl from her body and curl up somewhere out of the heat's glare.

She trudged along several steps behind Rayanah and the beast, both grateful for and despising the widening distance. She kept her teeth gritted and pretended the lag in her step was on purpose. When Rayanah eventually doubled back to offer her the water flask, she snatched it without a word and drank several huge, greedy gulps, hearing the remnants splash weakly in the container's bottom when she finally dropped it from her lips. Part of her awaited consequences—a protest, at least—but Rayanah said nothing. She took the flash back, returned to the beast's side, and that remained their only interaction of the entire morning.

The water felt cool and welcoming as it went down, soothing her throat, but it didn't ease her headache for long. Time continued to creep onward like sludge. A scattered haze swept over the desert, forcing her to squint. Sweat made her skirt cling to her thighs. The thick, throttling urge to cry again rose in gradual waves, pressing on her throat the more she fought it until even breathing hurt.

She clenched her fists, and the raw fingers rubbed together, tingling with discomfort. Frustration simmered as a cobweb stuck beneath her skin. She tossed her head for the hundred time to throw her thick curls from her shoulders, glancing at the sun as she did so. After a morning that felt like a lifetime, it had only just begun to teeter towards the west, slipping from its brightest point in the sky, its unbearable glow cast in every direction without refuge. The silence ached. Her gaze settled on Rayanah's form several paces up ahead, her cloak rippling sapphire in the light, and a sigh wrenched from her lips. She stomped forward.

The steps should hardly have been an effort, but Amina might as well have been wading through an ocean of tree sap. She was panting by the time she eventually reached Rayanah's side, the lines of her vision faded and briefly split, though she blinked hard enough to make her stare fierce as she fixed it on the other mage. "So we keep following the beast until what? We keel over?"

Rayanah flinched and nearly tripped over her cloak's hem. She seemed to have broken from her own distant world; shards of the haze still clouded her vision, dragging on a pause before she spoke that scratched at Amina's impatience. "I doubt you'll like where I think she's leading us."

With a huff, Amina shoved a hand against her hip. "Well, I'm stuck here, aren't I? Thanks to you." She turned her scowl on the warm, dizzy horizon. "You might as well enlighten me as to what your surely wonderful plan is."

Taking in a small, shaky breath, Rayanah curled her cloak across her front, tucking her chin into it. She still didn't appear wholly present; her gaze stayed on the horizon. "I think we're headed to a nest of beastfolk."

Amina's heart stuttered. "We're what?"

A smattering of fierce, jittering whys reared to her mind's forefront, but Rayanah spoke again before she could find a way to haul the incredulous word to her tongue. "A week or so ago, I saved the life of a beastfolk boy. Corvin. He's a friend, and I fear he's in trouble with his own kind for the very same reason I had to flee Tehazihbith. Our species are not meant to interweave." Her head dipped, though her voice was surprisingly strong. "But he's opened my eyes to the world. If he needs it, I have to be there to protect him."