Treeline

Chapter 15

I was useless. No, it was worse than useless because I was hardly lucid. It is hard to recall a story if you were struggling just to be there. The blow on my head mixed with whatever horrible concoction Morai’s purple breath was threatened to put me out of my mind for good; or, it would have, had the fear of my hunter not challenged it for a duel for which could turn my brain to pudding first.

I do know that Zann kept running. I thought he had been able to run well enough at the market, it was nothing compared to the feet of lightning that he donned at that point. At some point we stopped the mad descent and were once again moving horizontally. My stomach churned. Drips of blood from my forehead drained down my face and stained my dusty red dress. At some point the contents of my stomach made their way to my mouth and out onto Zann’s uniform. He kept running.

No one tried to stop us though there was a stream of people going this way and that. Through foggy glimpses I caught views of huge stone spires dotted with lights. We were in a cavern filled with trails that led this way and that. Screams followed wherever we went followed by the sounds of people running away. I didn’t spot Morai who was the person I was really trying to look for. Dazed and ill as I was I could have mustered the strength to send some nasty magic her way.

There was another thing that I was able to notice. The smell. Not only did it stink like human bodies which are enough to pull a gag from even a pig, but there was a thick toxic smell threatening to choke me as well.

The howl sounded again.

Zann whipped down a corridor. I vaguely noticed that his breathing was sounding pretty raspy, like mine. Up another flight of stairs and then slam, in through a door with it closed tightly behind us. It was dark.

A heavy weight slammed against the door. My eyes flickered shut. It was the perfect time for a nap.

My dreams were filled with yelling and screaming.

I was back on the branch, just a sprout, clinging for dear life while the wind ripped up my fingers one by one. Then I was falling. It was so much further than it had actually been in the memory. I would fall for eternity, everything flashing by me, all my memories there and I was going past them.

I could hear Rowan’s voice from the middle of it all. “Treeline, Treeline.” It was funny because he sounded so nervous, he was always so nervous. It sounded like he was calling me from far away too which was funny because he stood right by my side holding my hand. I was back in the Hive in the middle of the marketplace on a stretcher made for the dead.

I shook my head at him. It hurt. “I’m here, you don’t have to shout.”

His voice dropped into a whisper. Everyone in the marketplace froze where they stood. “You’re going to die, Treel. I can’t save you.” His face was wet with tears that fell in a steady stream.

I chuckled and pushed his shoulder playfully. He winced. “Oh!” It dawned on me that I hadn’t removed the curse, if I would die like he said then I’d have to do that at least. The wind swirled around me and Rowan’s eyes widened.

“You can’t do this,” somehow he managed to get more panic into his voice.

I frowned. Rowan was always so set on what could and couldn’t or should or shouldn’t be done. He didn’t trust that every once in a while I actually knew how to do something right. That was why I wouldn’t marry him. That was why I decided so long ago when he kept asking. I could get by just right without him. I had proved it, hadn’t I?

Plumes of magic waved toward him. Everyone else in the market vanished with a puff. He tried to dodge out of the way but didn’t want to let go of my hand so of course it hit him. It was just meant to lift the tattooed curse from his shoulder. It was swarm around him and the curse would be carried away. Simple.

Rowan screamed. I desperately tried to pull the magic back but it was too late. It ripped him from my grip and carried him across the market, slamming him into the ground. I sat up but my head hurt to much. I had to crawl off of the funeral stretcher and over to him.

His body sat in a broken heap. Arms bent this way and that. Thin trails of blood oozed from his nose and the corners of his mouth. His sweet warm eyes held nothing, staring blankly toward the top of the Hive.

“No, no, no, noononoo,” my words became unintelligible tangled up and mixed together. That didn’t matter though. There was no one else to hear them.

I broke him. That was it. I tried fixing him and I broke him. Even in my dreams I couldn’t escape the reality of it. It was done.

I forced myself to stand. My legs were shaky under me, threatening to crack. I leaned over and hooked my hands under his broad shoulders then dragged. It was the least I could do after killing him. I couldn’t live with myself if I just left him there in the middle of the market for people to trample over. It was minutes, it was years, but I managed to pull him onto the stretcher.

It would be impossible for me to carry the stretcher into the highest branches of the Hive. I knew that. The most I could do would be to honour him in the confines of the tree itself.

The wind swirled around me.

The stretcher burst into flames.

I woke up.