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The forest was decidedly dark. Dasen could not see ten feet, but he was still walking, moving steadily in the direction he hoped would lead to the shelter. He had shifted Tethina to his back – holding her arms over his shoulders and crouching to keep her weight on top of him. It was not the most comfortable way to walk, but it allowed him to see what was under his feet and use a stick to support his knee. Still, exhaustion mounted. His legs and arms were shaking so that he thought they would give way with each successive step, and his eyelids were so heavy that he thought he might fall asleep while standing.
His knee buckled under the pressure of another step. He leaned on his stick to keep from falling, but Tethina nearly slid from his back. He recovered his balance only through great effort. The air rattled in his lungs, gasp after gasp. His legs trembled. He looked up to curse the heavens. The words died on his lips. Immediately in front of him was a wall of rock. It had to be the wall Tethina had mentioned. The sight gave him renewed strength. He had to be close. His curse turned to thanks; certainly, he could hold out long enough.
The face of stone was nothing more than the cut-off side of a hill standing fifteen feet above the forest floor. Dasen followed it with his eyes but could not see its end in the murky twilight. He grew disheartened. Trees ran all the way to the face. It would be all but impossible to find the shelter through the gloom, but he had not come this close to fail. He took a deep breath, gathered his strength, and followed the wall.
Dasen shambled through the overgrown area near the rock with Tethina’s hot face resting on his shoulder. His back ached from the exertion of carrying her dead weight. His legs protested every step. He expected to collapse at any second and not rise again. To distract himself, he focused on the shelter, considering what it might look like, and allowed himself to get excited whenever he saw a bush or clump of trees that might be mistaken for his goal.
His eyes were watching a particularly promising grove when one of his tremulous steps came down on a slick root and slid out from under him. He tumbled face first into a pile of needles. The needles broke his fall, but Tethina’s weight on his back almost knocked the wind from him. He could not go another step, could not rise again if there were wolves chasing him. He rolled Tethina off of his back so that she lay next to him, facing the sky. They would sleep here. Tomorrow, perhaps, they would find the shelter.
Dasen looked up, stared at the rock face. The moon had risen above the trees and shone through the small clearing into which he had fallen. He scanned the sheer wall, his eyes roving down its expanse, until he came to the bottom where the grey of the stone was interrupted by something out of place. It took him longer than it should have to realize that he had found the shelter.
It was nothing more than several thick logs leaned against the wall with thinner branches woven between them. Pine needles and leaves covered the thing to keep out the rain, and pieces of hide hung over the entrances on either side. The whole thing was not more than six feet long and maybe four feet high. It did not look like much, but at that moment, Dasen was certain it was better than any palace he had ever seen.
He somehow found the strength to gain his feet and drag Tethina the short distance to the structure. He stumbled through the hide door and maneuvered her onto the blankets that acted as the floor. He moved into the shelter behind her, kicking over several items as he did and finally sat on something soft. In the pitch black, he was not certain what he had disturbed until he felt his pants grow damp. Standing quickly, he narrowly avoided hitting his head on the cave wall above as he grasped the end of the bladder and held it up to protect the precious liquid inside.
He maneuvered in the shelter so that he was sitting next to Tethina with his back against the rock face, which was angled to create additional space within the structure, and took a long drink from the bladder. He nearly spit the water out. It tasted foul and stale, but he drank deeply and reminded himself that it might be the only water he would have for some time.
When he was finished, he turned his attention to Tethina. He pulled her the rest of the way into the shelter, found a blanket to lay over her trembling body, and felt her forehead. It was hot.
He knew that he had to do something. But what? He found another blanket and placed it over her then lifted her head and poured some water in her mouth, forcing her to drink. She choked at first but then drank deeply even as she lay unconscious. He struggled to think of other treatments, but his fatigue was overpowering – his eyes would scarcely stay open. The only thing he could think was to moisten her brow, so he felt around until he found some cloth. He poured water over it and placed it on her head. The water quickly became warm as it drew the heat from her. He rang it out and moistened it again.
He repeated the process a few more times, but the water was almost gone and his need for sleep was crushing. His eyes grew bleary, his body refused to respond to his commands, and his head drooped. He fought to stay awake, but it felt like there were weights on his eyelids, and they slid shut time and again no matter what he did to prop them open. It was not a fight he could win. His eyelids came to rest for the final time. His body eased back onto the wall of rock, his face nestled into his chest, and he was instantly asleep.
Chapter 15
From Across the Clouded Range Page 34
