Ander - Part 1: Subchapter 9
9
The first thing she became aware of was the pain throughout her entire body, an ache unlike anything she has experienced before, as if every muscle had been shredded while she slept.
But how? And why? She was vaguely aware of these questions, but she honestly didn't care about either of them. She was so tired, she just wanted to sleep until the pain went away. But there was this awful weight pressing down on her chest, a weight that made it difficult to breath. What was that?
Layla? Is that you?
Did she speak aloud just then, or just imagine it? She couldn't tell. Layla hasn't crawled in bed with her since she was very little. But of course, they were both little back then. The worst they had to worry about in those days was Herden's scary stories. But even if Herden managed to tell a monster of a tale, Layla was too old to be pulling a stunt like this now.
Layla, get off me...
Kiana tried to push her sister away, but instead of the soft, slightly yielding warmth of her fur, her touch met nothing but a cold hardness that sent a searing bolt of pain rushing through her fingers, jerking her back into a reality she wanted no part of.
Gasping for breath, Kiana's eyes flew open, but instead of the endless meadows and valleys of the afterlife, she saw only a pale indigo sky, highlighted by a golden glow.
Fighting back tears, she carefully turned her head to the East, where she could see the sun just barely glimmering through the gaps in the trees, throwing long shadows across the earth that seemed to stretch on and on forever.
It was morning, and that meant she was still alive.
And in a considerable amount of pain.
Her fingers were the worst. Moaning, she gingerly raised them to her eyes and winced when she saw just how badly they were mangled. The nails on the first two fingers of her right hand were cleanly torn off, her fur tacky with blood all the way down to the knuckles. Even worse were the clumps of dirt stuck inside the wounds, fused together with the coagulated blood. She remembered how she had used them like pitchforks, scraping grooves into the earth as she slid down the mountain.
And speaking of the mountain, a small portion of it seemed to have taken up residence on her person. She was absolutely covered with a layer of grey dust, and to top it all off, there was a stone almost as big as her head resting on her chest, slowly rising and falling with her breathing.
Not wanting a repeat performance of the stabbing pain that had awakened her, Kiana pushed the bothersome stone aside with her left hand. Then, dreading what she would see, she looked to the mountain, that solid wall of rock rising into the air.
She could see the crack she had travelled through last night, about twenty strides straight up from where she now lay. To her, it looked like the gap between two giant fangs, but what was even worse was the small landslide beneath it. It was all too easy to imagine her limp form tumbling down that steep slope, her arms flailing, finally coming to a stop where she lay now. Still, it was probably that slope that saved her life.
Before doing anything else, she very carefully moved each of her limbs, bending her elbows and lifting her knees, to make sure she didn't break anything. She was stiff and sore, and her fingers were still killing her, but other than that she seemed fine.
A new pain suddenly stung the back of her head as she sat up, something she probably should have done slower. She reached back and felt the lump back there, easily as big as a robin's egg. She could feel dried flakes of blood clinging to her hair, too, and the sensation as she pulled them free from her dusty tangles was enough to make her gag.
By the gods, she must look a frightful mess.
She tried to get back to her feet, but the whole world started swaying back and forth like a feather in a breeze, forcing her to sit back down. After a minute of deep breaths, things seemed to settle, so she tried again. This time she managed to make it all the way up without incident. She tottered her way to the nearest tree and leaned against it, collecting her thoughts. She was sorely tempted to slide down the rough surface and sit there in the dark, soft soil, so different to the hard rocky ground of the pass, but she knew if she did that it would be hard to get back up again. Right now she had to think clearly, so she forced herself to stand upright, despite the ache in her legs.
All right, Kiana. What now?
Well, it's still very early, but Father should be waking up any minute now (if he wasn't up already). Normally he'd go straight to the forge and bang away at some horseshoes while Mother prepared breakfast. She could count on Layla to delay the discovery for as long as she possibly could, but it would be wiser to assume they already knew of her disappearance.
They'd probably attribute it to cold feet (which is technically true), but it wouldn't be long before they started looking for her in earnest, and once that happened, the whole village would likely come out to look for her, especially Mateo. Or Mateo's father, she should say. That ornery old gray-fur is just as desperate to see his son get married as Kiana's own mother, gods know why. Conservatively, she estimated she might have as little as six hours before things started happening, so the top priority right now is to put some more distance between herself and them, lest she be dragged back to the alter by the tail, kicking and screaming.
But first, she needed to get cleaned up, and she could still hear that stream bubbling somewhere deeper in the woods. Two birds with one stone.
She set off in the direction of that happy sound, brushing the dust from her dress.
The worst was surely behind her now.
This has been the ninth subchapter in my serial novel, "Ander". If you enjoyed it, please help keep my face un-mauled by irritable ostriches by dropping me a donation.
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