Broken Skies

“Oh.” He’s still staring at my hair and ru

Releasing my hair and with one brisk shake of his head, Lir stands and walks over to the packs. “Are you ready to get some rest?” I nod and manage to stammer out a yes. He pulls both sleeping bags out and lays them side by side. “Last night… I thought… but if you’d rather…” He gestures from one side of the fire to the other. “I can…”Under almost any other circumstances, I’d laugh at how flustered he is.

“No it’s fine.” I slide into my sleeping bag beside him and lie on my back with my arms crossed over my chest.

Slipping into his own sleeping bag, he settles in next to me. “May I ask…the nightmares are they—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He simply nods and closes his eyes. I can’t help but notice the hand he leaves extended out between us. I can help my urge to grab it and I dig my fingertips into my biceps. instead Soon after, he has drifted off and I’m left staring up at the stars through the tree branches.

Unwilling to subject myself to the dreams if I don’t have to and maybe even a little because I just crave the comfort and co

This night is not so bad. The flash of a knife. Ice and fire in my veins and then I’m flying. Swooping, drifting, diving, a hawk on the wind with wings outstretched. Peaceful blue sky with white puffy clouds. I’m looking down on myself with my red, red hair and a smile on my face.

ELEVEN

The next three days pass in much the same way. Easy conversation during the day when I can laugh and joke and then my slowly escalating nightly freak out once the sky darkens. The shifts have become more rapid and unpredictable and the back and forth is exhausting for me. I can’t even imagine how it must make Lir feel. He doesn’t complain and he doesn’t push me though, so our friendship continues on, a careful balance of acceptance and shared experiences. There have been no repeats of…whatever almost happened between us the night he touched my hair.

The nightmares still come every night, not that I expected them to stop. But they’re shorter and, more often than not, the truly scary parts get run out of my head by other things. For some reason, there’s a lot of me in my dreams. It’s odd really. Of course, I’ve always been in my dreams, but from a first person perspective. Now I’m like an observer. And from the outside looking in I hardly recognize myself. I stand tall and my hazel eyes aren’t quite as haunted. The sunlight brings out shades of burnished copper in my hair. I smile and laugh and talk with my hands. If only I could be that version of me…

Di

My mouth tastes horrible and it’s been two days since the last time we found a small creek to get cleaned up in. I’ve already cycled through the clothes I’ve packed and what I’m wearing is stiff with dirt and sweat. I feel gross. What I wouldn’t give for a stream, a lake, some water I can swim in and dip my head under. Exhaustion and hunger are just begi

I push my sleeping bag down and crawl out. Lir’s stuff is already packed up and he’s not here. Since the morning he woke to find me studying his skin, he’s started getting up early. I’ve gotten used to his early rising and morning walks, so I don’t worry anymore. He’s also better about not getting lost now.

I leave most of my stuff where it is, taking only the satchel with me, and walk into the trees. After taking care of other needs, I wrap my legs around the trunk of a tall tree and climb up until I can see the path ahead of us. This has been my routine since the third day when we spent hours going around a ravine that we could have avoided if I’d scouted our route better. There’s nothing I can see that will require a change of course today. I pull the map out and try to work out where we are. We’re heading North now and it looks like we should soon run into the secondary road that can take us over the mountain and toward the city.

Rustling noises come from the campsite as I return. “It looks like we might hit the road today, means easier walking at least. I hope—” I stop, my feet skidding across the ground. It’s not Lir moving around the campsite. A large black bear has ripped open Lir’s pack, strewing items everywhere. It’s already been through my things. Open mouthed, I take in the destroyed backpacks, ripped clothing and shredded sleeping bags.

For a moment, I’m frozen, not able to do anything but watch the big, hairy brute rummage around with its snout. What are you supposed to do when you run into a bear? I back away slowly, pulling my knife from my boot as I go. At least I’ll be ready if it decides to come after me. Not that my small knife, sharp as it is, will have this huge effect on it, but at least it makes me feel a little more in control.

Once the bear is out of sight, I circle around the campsite, hoping to catch Lir before he stumbles upon the thing. He really wouldn’t know what to do. I take sideways half steps, crouching slightly and keeping the knife in front of me. A loud noise brings me spi

Lir steps out from behind a tree with his hands up, eyes wide and on the knife. “What’s going on? You know I was not going anywhere. I was—” Ripping fabric and a sound somewhere between a snort and a growl, silences him.

“Bear,” I say. “We need to go, now.” I don’t even wait for him to follow before I start hiking through the woods, quickly but quietly, away from the campsite.

“But what about our supplies?”

I look back over my shoulder. “Would you like to fight the bear for them?” His eyebrow is just itching to creep up. “It’s all ruined anyway.”

“Oh.” With a furtive glance toward the campsite, he follows.

Twenty tense minutes later, I stop and sit on a rock, my head in my hands. Our difficult situation just got worse. The only weapon I have is this one knife. No sleeping bags. No clean clothes. No food. And dammit even our canteens are gone. My heart beats against my chest and my breath comes quickly. Heat starts at my toes and flows up my body until a frustrated scream flies out of my mouth. I’m up and slamming my fist into the nearest tree before I can stop myself.

Well, that was a brilliant idea. Now I’m angry, frustrated, and in pain. I wiggle my fingers and shake my hand in the air, blinking back tears.

“Feel better?” he asks. The eyebrow is up in full force and a smirk is twisting his lips.

“No!” I can’t help the volume and he flinches. “No,” I say again, quietly. “My hand hurts.”

“Let me see.” Lir reaches out and takes hold of my throbbing fingers. He pauses when my body stiffens, but then I relax and he pulls my hand closer, examining my battered knuckles. “I think it will be okay. You did not break the skin at least.”

Did I step forward or did he? His gaze moves from my hand to my face and he smiles. An entirely different kind of heat travels from my fingers to the rest of me, rising to my face. The green of his eyes draws me closer and I lean forward. The satchel swings forward across my body and clanks against Lir’s legs.