Falling Skyward

Chapter Thirty-Six: Zoram Awakens

Lana's patience felt as temperamental as a dandelion seed. One breath, one rainstorm, and she would unravel in a moment. She kept moving, abandoning herself to physical exertion to subdue her relentless thoughts.

Lana practiced conjuring Ce'al constantly, gathering full balls of light she could maintain now for minutes at a time before exhaustion overwhelmed her. Whenever she was alone with Zoram, Lana rehearsed the mental incantations Dawson had taught her to pool time and energy to promote healing. While Lana never noticed the drastic changes in Zoram she saw during Dawson's healing sessions, she thought she saw a little more color return to Zoram's face whenever she practiced healing.

On the second evening in the village, Zoram awoke in a dreaming daze long enough for Lana to coax him to drink broth. He sipped the liquid in between whispers, speaking to the air with such intensity Lana could almost see the spirits lingering around him. Zoram sputtered, coughing up half of the little food he had managed to swallow, then fell back on his cot, lifeless save for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Though Dawson's multiple healings had mended Zoram's splayed and torn flesh, Zoram appeared to have deeper wounds not even Ce'al could touch.

Lana jumped as Taren burst into the cramped front room. "Twice now you've saved me, once with this," he said holding up his bow, his lips tugging in that characteristic sideways smile. "I think it's clear you deserve to keep this. I have only one condition."

"And what's that?" Lana asked suspiciously.

"You have to learn how to use it. I don't want an arrow in the back."

*****

Within thirty minutes, Lana's shoulder and the tendons in her arms burned, feeling more taught than the bowstring.

"Concentrate," Taren said, retrieving the arrow that sailed over the target.

"I am!" Lana nearly shouted.

Taren took the bow from her, showing her for the thousandth time how to hold it and sight down the long, slender arrow. "You did so well against the scavengers."

"Some teacher you are," Lana grumbled. "The longer I spend with you, the worse I get." Lana took the bow, attempting to copy Taren's posture. The curves felt unnatural in her hands. A wave of longing for her javelin and bow back in Brevishaven rushed through her. She sighed, trying to banish thoughts of home from her mind. Taren wrapped his fingers around Lana's hand, guiding her arms to the right position.

Lana released the string. The arrow nicked the target before somersaulting through the air.

"This is useless," Lana groaned. "Your bows are too heavy and awkward. You could never kill a snow hare with one of these ghastly things."

"That's because bows like these are meant to pierce armor, not rabbits. Besides, you're doing better than you think," Taren said, adding with a laugh. "You didn't nearly kill the neighbor's cat that time." Lana rolled her eyes.

"All right, we can try again tomorrow," Taren compromised.

Lana rubbed her stiff, burning arms as she turned toward the house.

"Running away so soon?" Taren asked, his voice teasing.

"I thought we were done with the torture session. If I try shooting that bow even one more time, I'm afraid my arm might fall off."

"Weaponry wasn't what I had in mind."

"Oh," Lana said, cocking an eyebrow. "Then what did you have in mind?"

"It's been too long since we've had any fun, too long since we've had time with just the two of us. I think it's about time we remedy that."

"What about Zoram and Dawson? And then there's the upcoming trial. I should probably restock our food for the journey ahead as well, and . . ."