The Dreaming: Dark Star (Book 5)

22.2. Free at last

The next day, Imorah woke up in a stupor. She didn't know where she was, only that her head felt like it was locked in a vice. When she touched her face, her lids were puffy and caked with dried tears, and she could barely open her eyes. She peered with difficulty around the cave, flooded with morning light.

The bags she'd packed yesterday sat by the entrance of the cave, dusty and abandoned, like her. The sight of those bags hit her in the chest as she remembered what happened yesterday.

Tashin... He was dead. She put her head into her hands, feeling sick to her stomach. His body was out there. His dead body... was probably already rotting in the sun. Her breathing became ragged and she began to hyperventilate, her chest heaving with dry sobs.

Her body felt empty. There were no tears. She was so dehydrated that she couldn't even cry. She lay back on the bed, hugged the lumpy pillow, and wondered what on earth she was going to do. It was daylight now. She needed to drink something. She should eat something, but that seemed impossible.... She should consult Phiona about where to go, but the bags were already packed and it seemed like too much effort to dig her out.

And it was more than that. She felt a strange loyalty to Tashin. She couldn't befriend Phiona now that Tashin was dead. It felt wrong. At least right now.

It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. Her body felt like a dead weight, lifeless. Her head was throbbing. Water. She needed water—that made sense.

She crawled over to the skins and drank down the tepid stuff while looking outside—it was already hot. She didn't want to go, but the thought of spending the day here was worse than the blinding hot sun. And there was something fitting about leaving in the light. Something that also made sense.

She wondered briefly where the murderous son was, but pushed those thoughts away. She couldn't care less about that bastard. Bastard! That's what Tashin had called him.

Without another thought, she got up and began to strap bags to her back and over her shoulders. The bag with Phiona was the heaviest. By the time she was done, she felt it might be impossible to walk. She knew she should put something down, but every single thing felt absolutely essential. Phiona, food, water, her book.... She'd made the mistake of being unprepared when she left the Shelter, and she wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

With a heavy heart, she walked into the sunlight and started up the slope. As usual, the light was horrific and her eyes watered, so she closed them and climbed blind. Each step felt like a victory. By the time she was out of the canyon, she was already dripping with sweat and exhausted from the effort. A pit formed in her stomach—the sinking feeling that this wasn't going to work out, couldn't possibly work out. But she pressed forward anyway.

The bags she carried dug into her neck and shoulders. The heaviest one holding Phiona's battery pressed painfully into a bone. She should stop to consult Phiona, but she just couldn't. She didn't know why, but she just couldn't. Instead she pushed forward, to the wishing tree.

When she saw the mound of rocks covering Tashin's body, already swarming with flies, she began to cry again. She couldn't afford to cry—she needed her energy for the journey—but she couldn't help herself.

She walked past the burial mound, past the wishing tree and into the desert, stopping only for a second to look ahead of her. In the distance was a mountain range. It looked like the right place to go. She decided that when she reached those mountains, she would find a place to rest, eat something and consult Phiona. First she needed to get away from here.

* * *

Liran heard her before he saw her. He heard her climbing out of the canyon, huffing and puffing with exertion. He quickly hid behind the wishing tree and when she came into view, his jaw dropped.