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As soon as they were inside, the heat intensified again, just like the day before. The stone heated, burning her, but this time she didn’t have the strength to hold herself away from it without putting unbearable pressure on her torso. So her skin burned.
Naya tried to hold in her screams, but when her skin melted against the rock, sticky goo smearing across it, the agony overwhelmed her. She let out a harsh, hoarse scream, and kept screaming as the stone seared her, burning more intensely than the fiery heat from the sun.
After that, the dizziness swam into her, and she was grateful to escape into its unhinged darkness even just for a moment, knowing the relentless sun and stone would continue to scald her while she lay unconscious.
CHAPTER NINE
When Naya woke again, it was dark and cool, but everything ached.
She inhaled sharply, the memory of the beast standing over her, his silhouette dark against the bright sun, stark in her mind. But she was back in the tent. She tried to relax her muscles. The pain in her torso had lessened a little, but only if she breathed shallowly. Blotches of swollen, blistered skin stretched along her arms and legs. They looked bad, but the black patches of burns on her arms and legs felt even worse. She’d had to have been against the stone for a while.
The fabric around her torso had been removed and her tunic cut open, revealing large, dark bruises just where she suspected he’d broken her ribs. A white substance had already been applied to some of them. Hearing a clink of glass, she lifted her head. The stout man leaned over bottles and jars scattered over the table.
Selecting one, he turned and approached her, staring at her torso with a thoughtful expression, before kneeling before her and opening the jar. He scooped up a brown creamy substance and gently spread it over one side of her, a cool, tingly sensation spreading over her skin.
Naya drew in a sharp breath, and the man glanced up at her. He stilled, but then resumed carefully applying the cool cream all over her bruises. He went back to the table and picked up a small box about the size of his hand. Holding it close to her skin, he held his head close to it and moved it slowly, as if listening for something.
Her insides shifted. Naya jerked in alarm. What was that?
The man was focusing intently so she lowered her eyes and did the same. Underneath her skin, something was moving. Maybe her organs, maybe her bones…. Thankfully, there was no pain, which was probably due to the cream, but it still felt unnatural.
Something within her locked into place, and suddenly it was easier to breathe. He moved to another part of her torso and did the same, locking something back together. The man relaxed and moved back to the table. Naya eyed him. He was most likely the healer for this camp.
After bathing her burns in a water solution that fizzed on contact, he swiped some of the sandy grime from her around her eyes. Once done checking her over, he rewrapped the fabric around her torso and began to pack up his bottles and jars into his bag.
“Don’t leave,” Naya blurted out. Her voice was hoarse, her throat sore and gritty, as though she’d been swallowing sand.
The man paused, turning to look at her.
“Please,” she croaked. “I know you tried to help me before. I should have drunk your… plant thing.” He watched her mouth, reminding her to slow her speech. “I cannot stay. I don’t belong here. I need to leave.”
The man watched her for a moment, a strange look in his eyes. Then he spoke, slowly and carefully. “No run.”
A twist of dread skipped down Naya’s spine. Something about the way he looked at her made his words seem more like a serious warning than a threat. She had nothing else to say so just watched as he left the tent.
She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. Healers usually had some sort of empathy for their patients, but it was unlikely he’d have any power against the beast.
The next day, the women came again, but this time they secured an extra band of fabric around Naya’s thighs so she couldn’t walk at her normal stride, only waddle. And when she stepped outside, men stood guard, watching her as she was escorted back to the stone.
The beast stood where he always was, watching from the strange non-horses. After being attached to the stone again, Naya tried to fix her position so she wouldn’t burn as badly, but it was almost impossible.
The camp settled itself in their tents, and when the sun blazed to an incredible heat she grunted, trying to withstand it until it tortured her into unconsciousness once again.
The days blurred into a bright hot nightmare.
Naya found herself in two states; the sun brutal on her skin, and painful, uncomfortable darkness. There was no in between. Her days became a hazy, disoriented experience.
With no measure for passing time, each state she found herself in seemed suspended. She never knew how long each one was going to last. Hunger gnawed at her stomach until it faded away, but worse was the dryness of her mouth. She kept working it, pretending she was chewing to stimulate saliva, but the cloth-mouth feeling never eased.
When the need to urinate became unbearable, she let it go, the warmth streaming down her legs, sticking her undergarments. She tried to sleep, but it was too uncomfortable, yet more than once she found herself waking up having fallen unconscious.
Whenever she was in the sun, the beast was never far away, watching her with that tight gaze. He would kill her if this continued, but as long as it didn’t help him, she didn’t care. It would be a relief to escape him and embrace death. He didn't realize just how much she’d die for her people. She may not have been able to help them the way they wanted her to, but she certainly wouldn’t betray them.
Naya tried to make herself numb. She sunk into the darkness of her mind, refusing to feel anything so she didn’t give the beast a single fucking tear. But it was hard to ignore the pain radiating everywhere in her body. Her tight skin was sensitive and covered with burns, her mouth fuzzy and with mouth sores, and she stunk from having to soil herself against the tent wall.
Each time they dragged her from the tent to bear the brunt of the furious heat, she clung to the knowledge that her parents, their allies, and the whole of the Known Lands were all searching for her. They would find this place eventually, even if it took them months. She would be dead by then, but at least she wouldn’t have helped the beast conquer her land.
But as time passed, it occurred to her that he was keeping her alive, even if barely. Sometimes they would rub ointments on her leathery skin or force a small amount of liquid down her throat. It was usually when she was unconscious, but she became aware he was keeping her on the edge of life and on the brink of consciousness so she could experience his infliction of pain for as long as he wanted her to feel it.
