He wakes in mire.
All senses focused
on pain. Throbbing
deep in his side.
He concentrates.
Summons peptides
to increase
tolerance.
Struggles with images.
Remembers standing
on top of the honeycomb,
the Dock-winder behind him.
Odymn below,
at the edge of the wood.
Her red hair
like a drop of ink
in effervescent water.
Her body naked,
stripped by the Dock-winder.
Her hands reaching
towards him,
the Slain,
the traitor
who would sell her,
betray her trust.
Ping of a slammer,
discharging.
A fist, ripping
through his side.
Exquisite pain.
The Slain flexes his hand.
Touches his abdomen.
Encounters stickiness.
Brings his fingers
in front of his eyes.
Spirals of blood slither
towards the back of his hand.
He shakes away the droplets
and his fingers
slam into metal.
A woven grid,
the wall of the link shelter.
No memory
of the path
from the honeycomb
in De'men, to here,
in woods of grammid,
scent of cinnamon.
His fingers return
to the slammer wound
and he strains to see.
Abdominals unresponsive,
shredded.
The wound not open
but packed
with moss and leaves.
The Slain frowns.
Shakes his head
to loosen memory.
His mouth parched.
Coating on his tongue.
His left hand
finds the kemet bladder,
bulging with water.
Takes a sip
and keen ears
register the shuffle
of feet through dry leaves.
Two bodies
press towards him.
The Slain tilts his head.
Hatch of the shelter
secure from kotildi,
slear-snakes and marl.
Holds his breath
and listens.
One of the bodies
accelerates.
Bumps the shelter.
Fumbles for the latch.
A sentient
but foe or friend?
The Slain closes his fists.
Half-shuts his eyes.
Sees a purple running shoe.
A blur of red hair.
Light hand on his shoulder
and Odymn maneuvers
in confining space.
Tendril of her hair
brushes his face.
A whisper,
vanilla scented.
Her fingers find his wrist.
Intake of breath
as she feels his pulse.
Her hand wipes sweat
from his brow.
The tips of her fingers
caress the line of his jaw.
The Slain opens his eyes.
He tries to speak.
"Why did you stay?"
And a thread of understanding
forms between them.
Trembles
and falls away.
YOU ARE READING
Meniscus: One Point Five - Forty Missing Days
Science FictionAfter the Slain is shot, Odymn and an Argenop elder work together to try and return him to good health. As they journey towards the Themble, survival is a challenge. Odymn must add to her foraging skills and survive an attack by the vicious kotildi...
