with a gasping breath, lungs sucking in air, arms churning and legs treading water. Shaking her head, she headed to shore. Crawling onto a large boulder, she lay on her back with her eyes closed, panting.
She felt clean and alive.
She wrung out her clothes, laughing at herself for falling in the stream. She took off everything except her underclothes and spread them on the rocks. The sun was shining brightly and should take care of drying them. She hummed to herself while she began cleaning the dishes.
All done and with time to kill, she crawled up onto a boulder by the stream and sprawled in the sun. The feel of the heat on her skin and the warm rock under her was a welcome luxury. The dishes and clothes would dry while she took a nap. It was a beautiful day.
…
An hour later she woke, dressed, and gathered the dishes. She whistled a peppy tune while walking back to camp. As she got closer, her stride became shorter. Then her steps became slower. She felt like she was moving in mud, and the air felt thicker around her the closer to camp she got.
This was not right.
What was going on?
Her mind took steps back and reviewed the past few days, running from when she had parted ways with Freya to serving Vilir, to … “Oh, Yorin!” She gasped. Turning on her heel, she put her back to the camp and took an instinctive step away. This could not be happening. What dark magic was this?
Challenging her thoughts, she spun about, set her shoulders, and took a running start in the direction of camp. After three running strides, a black explosion burst in her brain. Her gut wrenched. She fell to her knees and lost the contents of her stomach. Wiping her mouth, she looked toward the camp.
She had to get back.
She tried crawling, sinking lower and lower into the dirt.
She held her hand to her wet mouth, oblivious, her mind reeling. Freya. Unger. The others. She wouldn't be able to get to them. They were in that dank, wretched darkness. She wouldn't even be able to get her horse. The Ull were such warm, affectionate people. What had happened? Her stomach roiled, and her head throbbed. The singing, the emotion, what was it all about? She searched her feelings and became aware of a hollow pit inside her that she’d never felt before.
She needed to get back to Cha and talk to her mentor. She knew what Senbo wanted—the complete domination of Lawan. He seemed motivated by some petty need for dominance. That Vilir had worked his magic meant that he was going to follow Senbo’s advice.
Lawan was in trouble. Her home was in danger. She couldn't let this dark sickness take over her home. She thought of the quiet gardens of Cha, the easy smiles of strangers, and the tranquil waters. The empty pit in her seemed larger when she thought of losing Surat, Tinh, and Sensei Angko to this darkness.
She surveyed the pile of objects she'd dropped. She had to travel all the way back to Lawan, and this was everything she had — some dishes, the clothes on her back, and her knives.
She staggered to her feet and began running.
Chapter 20
Freya quietly despaired over the food they'd just served Vilir. She and Unger stood in Vilir's tent, with heads bent and hands clasped humbly behind them. Her husband was a good cook, but there just wasn’t much food left in the area that anyone would want to eat. Vilir had already fired Unger once before, and she hoped it wouldn’t happen again. Vilir and Senbo were sitting at the table, with Vilir in the center, his dog at his feet waiting for scraps, and Senbo positioned at the end of the table.
Vilir ate his first spoonful of the stew placed in front of him quickly and with loud slurps. He stopped and looked at the bowl with disgust. Picking it up, he hurled the bowl across the tent.
“This is horrible. Bring me something better,” he demanded.
Freya and Unger hurried out of the tent, responding automatically to the command. Back at the cooking area, they grabbed the wiry rabbits