The Farren Queens

Amara

The walk by the river was worse than the tunnels.

The pathway was interrupted by roots and fallen branches, and Samir kept leaning against her shoulder. Though she knew he didn't mean to hurt her, the pain in her shoulder worsened with each step. She wrapped the cut sleeve of her dress around her injury as best she could, but within minutes her arm was sticky with blood.

The dry leaves crunched under their feet as they hobbled through the woods. Amara looked up at the sky to see them drift down from the trees and onto the narrow path they had found. Even though the leaves were a nuisance, it amazed Amara how beautiful death could be.

Her thoughts wandered until she saw a large branch that had fallen off a nearby oak. Amara stopped short. Samir stiffened as she set him down on a nearby rock, biting back the pain. Amara picked up the wood and took her knife out. She cut the smaller branches off and handed the stick to Samir.

"For your balance."

He took it without a word and leaned on it. He took his weight off of Amara and her shoulder felt much better. The bleeding had slowed, and was beginning to scab over. It still ached, but it was dull now, not the stabbing pain it had been hours ago.

It was easier for both of them to walk, and they began to go faster. The two were still traveling slow enough that a snail might have beaten them in a race, but it was an improvement. The sun began to set below the tree line, and the temperature plummeted with it. Within minutes, Samir was shaking.

I thought it got cold in the desert.

"Guess he shivers there, too."

Skies, it's not even that cold yet.

"Speak for yourself."

Even Amara had to admit, she was freezing. Her dress was still damp, and every biting wind sent a violent shiver down her back. She tried to warm her hands, but it didn't help. Amara watched as their breath took shape in the night air, like smoke billowing from her father's cigar.

She wasn't sure how far they'd traveled. Time seemed to slow down in the forest, and it felt like the woods would go on forever. Samir and Amara traveled all through the night, only stopping to get the occasional drink of water. Amara hated how the water made her hands freeze even more than they already were. She hated how her lips chapped and began to bleed. She hated the throb in her arm. She hated that she was tired beyond belief. Amara just wanted to go home.

Like I'd have a home to return to.

"Maybe Eira was killed, and you'll come back to see everyone awaiting your arrival?" Her conscience hoped.

I don't want her dead. She's my sister.

They continued by the small river all through the night. Fatigue made her head feel dizzy, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. Every bone in Amara's body ached, but she was certain Samir felt worse.

Just as dawn was breaking, they saw the fading lights of a village. Hope flooded through her, reviving her energy as it urged her forward.
An hour later, they reached the main road leading into the city. Merchants rode on horseback and called out their wares as they entered. Self-proclaimed psychics promised good fortune to those who would stop, while peasants begged for any scraps of food they could.

To her relief, the sight of two injured people seemed to be common in this city, and nobody gave so much as a passing glance. Amara and Samir followed the crowd past the open gates. People were advertising fresh fruit and meat, and calling to their children. Amara was shocked to see the number of people in the muddy ditches of the town, begging for medicine and aid, only to be disappointed when nobody helped. She hadn't realized poverty was an issue so close to her home. She had known it was a problem near the borders, but she had never thought it to be relevant here.