Chasing the Sun

II

|| - Vulture's Land - ||

"You often meet your fate on the road you take to avoid it..."

________

Silence is a song of sirens. Salt, cold and silence; he was drowning again. The water, a friend turned foe, was no longer the crystal clearness that he had grown up knowing, instead it was a murky greyish blue. It burnt his eyes, instead of a soothing caress that he recognized. Below the surface, as he sank faster than he could move his limbs was a world of unknown. There was neither a bottom to break his fall, nor weed to tangle and slow down his descend; there was only water rippling, bubbling and punishing for a crime he had not committed.

The brine stung against the cuts on his skin, making him aware of their presence anew. It felt like a snake bite, on his arms and back, all stinging at the same time. Each moment seemed to stretch so that it could accommodate every different feeling of pain that he was going through. Swirls of dark red mingled with the water as he sank further into the shadows.

He was sleepy, his throat was burning, his lungs screaming for air, his limbs that had been fighting to stay aloof all this while suddenly too heavy to carry; and his eyelids were drooping. There was a ringing in his ears, growing louder as he sank. His thoughts were no longer coherent, but he thought of sirens again. Singing, they were singing in his head.

He could not open his eyes once they closed to blink; they had become heavy as well. Then the darkness brought memories.

Fires, metal, chains and whips cracking against raw skin. Something tightened around his throat, tighter, tighter it wrapped his wind pipe until he was gasping.

David McLane gasped as he woke up and then tried to cover it up, by flattening his dark, unruly hair and leaning back on his seat.

Their carriage had not yet recovered from the rock under the wheel and swayed threateningly from side to side as they sped forward. Dave fumbled with his collar, thanks to the heat and dust the fabric was irritatingly tight around his throat. Andrew Kent his travelling companion and friend gave him a look of sympathy over the book he was reading. His sister, Lilian Kent was not so moderate in her reaction though.

"Oh, this is awful!" She cried as the two young men exchanged a look. A corner of Andrew's mouth twitched as he noted the bored expression in his friend's grey eyes. It might have been the twelfth time Lily had complained about the journey, to which she was in fact a self-invited addition. "When will it cool down?"

"Sister," although he knew it was a vain attempt Andrew felt himself duty bound to try. "Look the sun is almost sinking."

He was right. The endless blue of the sky had taken a purple hue and splashes of red littered the western edge. Lilian however did not look very impressed with the information.

"Which I'm sure will make no change," she declared, her expression decidedly sour. "I wonder how I am to survive months here. Surely, this place gets rain at some point?"

This time the question was not directed at the two well-dressed young men, but at their driver, Gobind, who was to act as their mediator, interpreter, and tour guide once they were inside the Chandranagara palace. The friendly, little man had been sharing anecdotes of his childhood in these areas before Lilian had decided to announce 'how awful' everything was had fallen silent since then. Now, that he was addressed the man cleared his throat.

"Rains are lovely alright Ma'am but I'm sure you will love winter in Chandranagara more!"

"That I doubt..."