Surfaces of water
bubble and roil.
Elastic surfaces
swell to domes
and burst, create
effervescence,
puffs of aerosol.
The Slain shoos
droplets aside,
watches the sky,
cloudless and blue.
Opens his mouth
to sample the air.
Odymn wonders
if the air tastes better
than slag-fern.
Craves a feast of berries
or fragrant leaves.
She and the Slain
press onwards,
their way slow,
progress uncertain.
All afternoon
they slog through swale,
wet to the knees.
Navigate hummock
to hummock.
The Fault nearby —
a rumbling in the distance,
sand in the wind.
Precursor of a dust storm
crossing the broad Darn'el.
Another glance at sky
and the Slain shakes his head.
"Higher ground,"
he says.
Shoulders the pack.
Takes Odymn's hand.
Points at a distant banyan,
parody of an island
in the lowland mire.
A gust of wind
sweeps stray curls
across Odymn's face.
She clears her eyes,
sees a black cloud build
towards the zenith.
Another rumble
and a band of lightning
brightens the tangle
of trees in the deep woods.
Odd shadows
scatter in the canopy.
They climb
to the base of the banyan
and the Slain pulls rope,
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...
