This Red Sky

Chapter Twenty-four

Sonia turned over as the soft blue light of the morning broke through the crack between the flaps of the tent. The short hours of sleep left her head fuzzy, her eyelids heavy. Her mouth was dry with thirst, but the clay jug at the side of the sheepskins on which she lay only held a few cool drops of water. Sonia rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Her long hair was tangled, the sheepskin blanket sticking to her sweaty skin. She saw Syralth lying facing away. Her brown back was exposed, lean and muscular, traced with battle scars.

Sonia sat and watched the shifter's ribs rise and fall. Her eyes were closed and peaceful, a strand of black hair falling over her forehead. She looked strangely innocent now. Sonia left a light kiss on the nape of her neck and reached for her tunic. It reeked of smoke and mutton. 

 Sonia pulled Syralth's crumpled cloak around her shoulders against the morning air and picked up the jug before stepping outside.

The morning star was bright on the horizon. The first few streaks of sunrise appeared over the peaks of the red mountains. The bonfires were just dead pits of black ashes now, the stone circle deserted. Sonia pulled the cloak shut at the front as she took a few steps towards the well.

She stopped. A strange figure lurked near Szandra's house, a bow over his back. Sonia watched the man creep silently between the houses, the lights in the windows out. He was close enough that she could see his face now, and her heart leapt.  

His eyes found her in a moment.   The young thief straightened up, his eyes widening as he found her. He ran towards her, boots crunching on the packed dirt of the village. They collided, and Nakt lifted her off her feet in a crushing hug, a short laugh bursting from his lips. Sonia shushed him and squeezed his shoulders tightly, a few tears escaping the corners of her eyes.

"I thought you were dead," Nakt gasped as her feet touched the ground again. "The others--"

"I know, I know," Sonia whispered, not wanting to let go of him yet. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be miles away by now."

"I came to steal the Drachenblade," Nakt responded after a moment. Sonia froze.

She released him, looking into his face with eyebrows furrowed.

"What? Why?"

"I'm being paid to do it, by an old man who said he hid it years ago. I'm getting off this damned island. This time next year, I'll be kingdoms away." He grabbed her hand. "You can come too. We'll finally be free of this. I'll teach you to shoot and we can—"

Sonia couldn't stand the earnest look on his face. She lowered her gaze, shaking her head.

"No?" Nakt was confused. "What? Why not?"

"Listen, you can't trust that man. He's a shifter, like Syralth." Sonia approached him, whispering quickly as she glanced around. The village seemed deserted and cold now that the morbid celebration was over. "I made a pact with her to set you free, but you have to leave, now. It isn't safe for you here, and you won't ever be again if you take—"

"Syralth?" Nakt's grey eyes widened. "A pact? What are you talking—" His eyes travelled over her bare legs, her tangled hair, the distinctive red cloak that she clutched shut with one hand.  A horrified realization passed over his face. "Sonia? What did you do?"

"I—I'm staying here, Nakt," Sonia whispered after a long silence. "I'm sorry."

Nakt pushed her away from him, taking a step back, the confusion on his face mixing with rage.