Free Flux by Kim Fielding

something about it and then closed it again.
    Ennek always remained a few steps ahead and he didn’t speak to Miner at all. The bird was there, too, bright eyes as sharp as a knife blade. Sometimes they’d come to a cloud of insects and the bird would swoop about, catching them in its beak, and sometimes it would snatch small creatures off tree branches or bare rocks. Miner and Ennek stopped only twice, both times along little trickles of water. Miner almost wished they hadn’t, because although it felt lovely to rest his feet a few minutes, they hurt even more once they resumed walking.
    It was difficult to see the sky through the canopy of leaves, but the light had definitely begun to dim when they dropped into quite a steep valley, this one with a stream wide enough that they would need to wade across. Miner stopped at the edge of the water. “I don’t want to go into the evening with wet clothes. We’ll stop here.”
    “All right,” Miner said meekly.
    But Ennek didn’t remain by the road. He turned to the right and took them a bit more deeply into the woods, until the little river turned a bend and there was a narrow, sandy beach beside it. Without saying anything, Ennek shrugged off his pack and began to gather pieces of dried wood that had probably washed up onto the banks during a flood. He arranged them into a pile and Miner took out his matches and set them alight.
    This time they did make some tea. They ate the last of the meat and crackers as well. “We’ll have to find more food tomorrow,” Miner said cautiously. Those were the most words either had spoken in hours and they sounded strange.
    Ennek nodded. Then his tense muscles seemed to relax a little. “We’ll find something. I think some of the trees we’ve been passing have edible fruit. There are fish in this river, too. I could call some, I think.”
    “Are…are you certain you should use magic?”
    Ennek shrugged. “It wouldn’t take very much. But we needn’t worry about that now. Let’s get some sleep.”
    Miner was ridiculously relieved when he saw Ennek arrange the blankets in such a way that it was clear they would be sleeping together. Miner yawned hugely and Ennek even spared him a small grin. Then they washed their hands and faces and untied their shoes and lay down in their usual position, with Miner’s longer body wrapped around Ennek’s.
    Ennek’s breathing had evened out but he wasn’t yet asleep when Miner whispered in his ear: “I’m sorry.”
    “I know. Gods, we’re bogging ourselves down with regrets, aren’t we? I know you made the best decision you could, and you were hardly in any condition to make wise choices. I’ve done much worse myself, you know.”
    Miner felt his heart unclench a bit and he snuggled closer against Ennek. But still, long after Ennek was snoring softly, Miner was awake and worrying.

Chapter Seven
    h

    E nnek checked Miner’s wounds in the morning. “The arm’s healing nicely,” he announced. “You’ll have a scar, though.”
    “Not as spectacular as yours.”
    Ennek glanced down at his torso, which was covered by his tunic, and quirked his lips. “We make a matched set.” Then he frowned a little. “Except my wrist’s not broken. Let me see yours, Mine.”
    Ennek had never called him that before, and Miner grinned widely as he obediently held up his arm. Ennek poked at the splint a bit and tightened the bandages. “Maybe I should get you a sling. So you don’t strain anything.”
    “I’ve been doing fine without. It’ll just get in the way.”
    Ennek nodded doubtfully. “All right. But be careful with it.” And then, even though Miner had been doing these things himself for the last few days, Ennek insisted on making tea for both of them and feeding Miner the last of the dried fruit, then combing Miner’s hair—which was too short to really need combing—and wrapping the beautiful scarf around Miner’s neck and lacing up his sandals. Ennek packed up their bags as