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I grimace, losing my nerve to tell him the truth. My mouth feels full of sand when I swallow and say, “I don’t think the Gods really care about our affairs anymore. I doubt they even care about the Race.”
“So, what are you going to do about it, Zeph?”
I motion for the bottle, and he hands it to me, but not before taking a huge gulp of his own. I upturn it into my mouth, the harsh burn lighting a fire down me. “I’m going to burn it to the fucking ground, Loris.”
Chapter 12
Viola
Wehavebeenwalkingfor what feels like ages, though by the position of the moon in the sky, it cannot have been more than three hours. By my estimation, we are roughly sixteen hours into the Race, and those hours have been more eventful than I had ever imagined. In past years, we maybe would have stumbled across a creature to evade or a physical barricade of overgrowth to fight through. Apparently that was too easy because this year, we’ve graduated to murder.
I still struggle to accept that what I did to Amio was murder, but when I remove myself from the situation and look at it from a bird’s eye view, the truth of it is very apparent.
While Max and I were targeting just a little under eight days to complete the Race, it could continue for up to fourteen. Many competitors take a leisurely trek, confident the invalids will be the only ones marked as expendable. We have not encountered anyone else on our journey thus far, so my hopes are not thoroughly trashed that we can win.
What started so simple - run the Race with Max, get into Ytopie, see my parents again, live a happy life there for the rest of our days – has morphed into something I feel like I can barely contain.
I am beginning to question what my true desires are. Do I want to make it to Ytopie? Why is it so important that I do? Of course, my parents told me my whole life that it was all that mattered, but I can only blame my choices on my parents for so long.
Ultimately, my journey is my own, and the Gods will rain their judgment on me alone.
I try to push the recent deception of Jaz, manipulation of Max, and murder of Amio to the back of my mind, longing to compartmentalize the decisions I’ve made that have led me here.
I’ll have plenty of time to process my mistakes and faults when I’m safely in Ytopie.
I look back at Max and see her struggling to keep the pace. It’s getting late, and while we have stopped to get some water and eat a handful of wild berries, we really need some rest after this day.
The star-flecked sky above us is stunning, incongruent with the horrors of the day. Warm air swirls around us, beading sticky sweat at my hairline. Maybe stopping isn’t such a bad idea.
I reach back for Max and pull her abreast of me. As the night gets darker, I am not comfortable with her lagging behind, easily picked off by whatever manner of creature lurks in the shadows. As children, she protected me. But since I have joined her in the Race, I am the one who seeks to protect her.
The slump of her body against me and the pace of her breath tell me Max will not make it much farther before she collapses on the spot. Though I could continue if needed, I scan my eyes over the terrain in hopes of finding a suitable place to rest for the evening.
My eyes land on a small, clear spring, feeding into an enclosed alcove of plush grass that looks designed to provide comfort and safety. There is only one entrance into it, the other sides covered by thick rocks or trees, so it is an easy area to defend should the worst come - but I cannot imagine what would be much worse than Amio at this point. It’s odd that twice today, comfortable and safe shelter has made itself available for us when we need it most.
But who am I to question if I am carrying the luck of the Gods with me? Maybe they’ve finally decided to extend their favor to someone other than the fae.
I drag Max into the alcove, thrilled with my discovery. “Let’s get some rest now.”
“Thanks, Vi, I didn’t want to say it, but...”
“I know. You need rest, it’s fine. Let’s get set up.” We drag logs over into the clearing to rest our backs against. Lounging back, we open our packs to pull out whatever we can for a makeshift dinner. We both produce our canteens, and Max takes mine with her to the stream to fill it up. I pull out the package of dried meats and one of my tinctures for pain reduction.
My father taught me how to forage for medicinal herbs, and a local woman used to have me study under her to create tinctures and salves. It was one of the only times my mother let me do something that wasn’t directly connected with the Race.
Luckily, my medicines are some of the best in the region because this gash in my thigh hurts something fierce.
When Max hands me my canteen, I pour some water onto a strip of cloth and use it to clean all the cuts I sustained during my fight in the cave. I wince at the feeling of the cold water on the tender flesh, and I do not relish the sharp feel of the rough cloth against it. Infection can be a bitch, though, so I must clean and wrap the wounds. I place a few drops of the pain-relieving tincture on my tongue, wincing at the bitter taste. Once I feel sufficiently healed up, I look to find Max staring at me, mouth agape.
“What?” I say, my eyebrow raised.
She purses her lips. “Dried meat? Where’d that come from?”
“I traded a handful of eggs for some, thought we could use it.” I really need to get this lying to Max under control. I know everything I am doing is best for us, and when we get to Ytopie, she will surely see it that way. But the journey there may destroy her opinion of me for good.
She lowers herself onto the soft ground and grabs a piece of the meat, chewing it slowly as she looks at me. “You know what, Viola? I’m done asking. I feel like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
My shoulders slump dejectedly, and I know she has me figured out, so I choose to say nothing. Instead, I stretch out and rest my hands behind my head, looking up at the bright moon that casts an orange tone throughout the land. Once she finishes chewing the meat and drinking her fill from her canteen, she surprises me by stretching out next to me, eyes turned up towards the stars.
