The Archer

Chapter Five

I wake up again, this time in the morning, and lean out of my tent and vomit.

I’m sweating crazily and have a terrible headache.

I heave again, this time only bile and water coming out since my stomach’s empty.

Marcus cries and moves around behind me.

I ignore him and breathe hard.

I start to get up, crawling towards the sack of dried meat leaning beside the tent, only to fall on my side.

I gasp for air, cough, and wheeze.

My head feels light, almost like I’m floating.

My eyes begin to close and something wet lands on my cheek.

My dog barks, pawing at my face. He begins growling at something as I drift off.

The last thing I feel before my head hits the ground is the sensation of rain.

v 

Echoes of voices. Coldness. Shouting. Heaviness. Many, many, senses at once. I try to open my eyes. They’re too heavy.

I breathe hard.

There’s more frantic calling.

Something cold is placed on my forehead.

A large hand is placed on my chest, and I shoot up.

Reaching for my daggers, I find that I’m wearing a thin dressing gown.

Everything’s blurred. Echoes bounce off of the cold room’s walls.

Someone grabs my arms, trying to speak to me, calm me down.

It doesn’t work, and I begin jerking, trying to escape their hold.

My breathing slows as I fall to the floor once more.

I awake again, this time I can hear clearly. My sight’s still foggy though.

“You do it.” A man says. “Last time I tried she freaked out.”

A soft woman’s voice speaks. “It doesn’t matter who does it, as long as it gets done.

A small hand is placed on my chest, and I jerk once more.

“Shhhh… It’s okay.”

 Then fingers are pressed to my neck and my wrists.

“Breathing’s calmed. Pulse is normal.” She reports.

My eyes begin to clear a bit. I’m in a dark cave. There are two figures, but it’s still to cloudy to tell much more.

I’m lying on a stone slab that’s raised from the floor, a table perhaps.

I try to ask them where I am, but instead it comes out as a moan.

They rush to my side.

“She’s conscious.” The woman says.

“No duh.” The guy retorts.

He picks up my head, holding that and my back so I’m in a sitting position.

The girl holds a metal cup to my mouth and I drink, expecting water to quench my sudden thirst.

I spit it out, covering the woman’s green skin.

Her face is shocked, and the man begins laughing.

“Blood?” I manage to voice.

The woman’s busy drying herself. It’s the man who replies. “What do you mean blood?”