“Amaia!”

I yelled, shaking her, trying to get her to wake up. I tried not to look anymore at the blackened skin of her arm, but it was impossible. Any time it came into my peripheral vision it drew my gaze with an evil magnetism. Every glance had me worrying that the blotch had grown, even as I stood there.

I heard Cadoc rushing back over to us but it hardly registered. I checked Amaia’s pulse on her neck, under her jaw. Alive. Then I saw that she was breathing. But still, she didn’t wake up.

“Cadoc,” I said as he approached, before he had a chance to speak. Before he could see Amaia’s arm, “Hand me your canteen.”

He did so immediately without question, fishing it out of his pack. I was already kneeling beside Amaia. I leaned over her and poured some of the water onto Amaia’s face, hoping that would finally wake her.

It did. But rather than shoot up in surprise, she blinked languidly, staring up at us with an even blanker expression than usual.

“Amaia,” I said. “Are you alright?”

“Needed,” she started, the words coming out slowly, as if even talking required effort. “To lie down.”

“Her arm!” Cadoc exclaimed.

Amaia made a face of mild displeasure, her eyebrows furrowing and her lips creasing into a slight frown. She lifted her head and looked down at her arm, which she raised slightly.

“Oh,” she said. “That looks bad.”

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

“No. Can’t feel it at all.” She let her head and arm both fall back onto the clay. She stared straight up.

I shook my head. “What the hell is it? There’s no way you got an infection that bad that fast. And it looks awful, like leprosy or something.”

“Poison,” Cadoc said. “It must be. Poison from that fiend, no doubt.”

“Poison?” I looked back at the wound. It had stopped bleeding, now just a ring of dull reddish marks, uniformly spaced, surrounded by pitch blackness. It wasn’t too large yet - it hadn’t reached either her elbow or her wrist, but I was afraid that it would spread, and perhaps quickly. It hadn’t even been there the night before.

“I’ve never,” Amaia said, and then had to pause before continuing. “Never been poisoned before.” She smiled faintly, laughing at her own joke, I guessed.

“Is there a cure?” I asked. “There has to be a cure, right?”

“Likely there is,” Cadoc answered, nodding. “Even a basic antidote might keep the poison at bay. But where are we to find it?”

I clenched my fists and felt as if I might crush Cadoc’s canteen in my grip. Cadoc’s question had triggered a bolt of thought in my mind that raced like lightning. In an instant his question made me think of Coernet - where perhaps we could buy a potion that would help - which made me think of Naomi, which made me remember her betrayal and my veins felt like they were filled with napalm, and my vision grew reddish like I had blood in my eyes.

“That fucking bitch,” I said. “If Amaia dies, I will kill her. I swear it.”

Amaia seemed to not even hear me, but Cadoc squatted down beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “No one is dead yet, friend. I will never try to take away your chance for revenge, but not all hope is lost. If we can get to town quickly, she might be fine. It has not spread so far, yet.” Then he chuckled a little, and looked almost embarrassed to laugh - embarrassment being a practically unheard of expression for Cadoc. “Either you take your companionship seriously, or you care more for Amaia than I had realized, Miles.”

I shook my head, but didn’t speak. Couldn’t. The anger was tightening around my throat, and if I had opened my mouth at that moment I would have only screamed.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

But I knew that he was mistaken. It wasn’t that I cared so deeply for Amaia, or for my companions in general. It was because, suddenly and unexpectedly, I cared for myself. I wasn’t going to let myself be treated like something disposable - however much truth there might be to that idea. Naomi was the most recent in a long line of betrayals, and I had given up trying to hold back my desire for revenge. And since I wasn’t even in the same dimension as most of those who had wronged me, she would have to pay.

Although, I thought, Tom will be next.

Cadoc placed his other hand on Amaia’s arm - her good, right arm. “Can you stand?” he asked.

“Water,” she said. I hurriedly brought Cadoc’s canteen to her lips. She drank greedily, then, after a moment, spoke again. “Yes.”

I handed the canteen back to Cadoc, and he stashed it away again. Then we each got to one side of Amaia, and helped her up onto her feet.

She was a little wobbly, and I was afraid to let go, certain she would collapse again.

“Water,” she said again, this time with something approaching a normal voice, and with much more command.

“Again?” I asked, letting her lean on me as Cadoc retrieved the canteen again.

“Thirsty,” she said. Cadoc tried to bring the canteen to her lips, but she snatched it with her good hand before he could. She tilted her head back and began gulping the water down. She didn’t stop until it was completely empty.

“Better,” she said. She handed the canteen back to Cadoc. “Fill it. I will need more soon.”

“Is the poison dehydrating you?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I feel much better with water.”

So much better, in fact, that she let go of me and stood on her own two feet. She stood there for a time until Cadoc returned with the canteen once more full of river water. Amaia took it again, and swallowed three more gulps of water before handing it back the final time - for the moment.

“I can walk,” she said. And she demonstrated. She could, and she didn’t even look wobbly. If it wasn’t for the hideous ink-blotch on her left forearm, I wouldn’t have even guessed there was something wrong.

“A dehydrating poison,” I said, mostly to myself, but aloud. “I think I’ve heard of the sort of thing before. I think some rat poisons use that sort of thing. Normally it doesn’t make the rat thirsty, though. So that’s lucky, I guess.”

“Did you just call me a rat?” Amaia asked. Her face was back to its normal state of permanent and likely unintentional intimidation, so the question felt interrogative.

“No,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. But keep drinking lots of water. It might help keep you alive.”

She nodded.

“I hope the water has electrolytes or something in it,” I muttered under my breath. “The water back home would drain you if you drank that much.”

We all filled our canteens - wishing suddenly that we had more of them - and then began our journey again without much fanfare. It was obvious to all of us what we needed to do - follow the river south, keeping close enough to its banks that Amaia could drink as often as she wanted.

We kept just inside the treeline, however. Naomi had lied to us about some things, but had clearly told the truth about others. She had said that we shouldn’t stay too long on the riverbank, or else someone would spot us. After the previous night’s struggle, we didn’t want to take our chances again by assuming she had lied.

We wanted to pull out some of the smoked meat to eat as we walked, but of course that had been ruined during our swim. We all choked down what we could anyway - it was better than starving - but we discarded the rest. I cursed Naomi - she had stolen food from us, and presumably had not needed to jump into the river, and so she was probably enjoying smoked basurd right at that second.

In fact, she had stolen most of the food. My guess was that she justified this to herself with the thinking that we, being a group of three people with useful magic, could hunt more food - while she, being worthless and alone, could not.

Another reason to find her, I thought. To steal some food back.

As far as hunting went, we did see animals while we walked. Most of them looked like animals you might find on earth - rabbits, squirrels, birds of various sorts - but each of them looked not quite right. The rabbits had short, pointed ears, like cats, and the squirrels were about twice as large as they ought to have been. I couldn’t recognize the birds, but I’d never been much of a naturalist, so that didn’t mean much.

But we didn’t stop to hunt. Naomi had almost certainly hunkered down the night before, and was unlikely to be expecting us coming after her - the fool - and so we had a real chance of catching up, if we hurried.

After a day of hard travel, the sun starting already to set, we did stop and search for a good place to rest. We found a massive tree with a large - though not comfortable - hollow inside. I prayed that it wasn’t the den of something nasty, and we went inside. It was tight, each of us being pressed up against the other, but we fit. We spent the night there, and somehow, all of us slept. They say hunger is the best spice, and so I suppose in the same way sleep-deprivation is the best sleep aid.

I was horribly sore the next morning, but nothing had assaulted us in the night. We got up, stomaches growling, and went to the river side. Amaia downed more water, and then we refilled our canteens again.

We had wrapped the wound again after some strips of cloth had dried - not sure what good it would to, but it couldn’t hurt. But, stealing another glance at Amaia’s arm, I could see that the blackness was spreading. In only a day’s time it had spread up past her elbow, and was creeping black tendrils down into her wrist.

Before I could worry more than I already had, Cadoc grabbed my arm and turned me around, pointing. I looked.

Upriver was a ship. A small ship with a white sail which hung limply from the mast, and what looked like a galley in the front - could maybe hold 4 inside, cramped together in there. I couldn’t see anyone steering it - it was as if whoever was inside was simply letting the river take it.

“Should we leave?” Amaia asked. She was now also standing beside us, staring.

“Because of what the coward said?” Cadoc asked in return.

“Fuck it,” I said. “What have we got to lose? I’m not going to sit here and let possible help drift past us.”

No one argued - despite the fact that the last time I suggested ignoring Naomi’s warning, it had gotten us in to a lot of trouble.

“Hey!” I yelled as the ship passed. “Over here! We need help! Our friend is injured!”

Cadoc and Amaia joined in as well, yelling and waving their arms. Still I saw no one on board. The ship was moving faster than I had realized, and though we redoubled our efforts when it passed directly in front of us, we never saw any sign of anyone on board.

“Fuck!” I yelled. “Fucking asshole. Shit.” The ship was already out of view - we had been yelling long after it was likely to do anything. I turned to face upriver again. “Do you think another one will come? One not manned by fucking pieces of shit.”

“It seems probable,” Cadoc said.

“Maybe that one was empty,” Amaia said.

“Why the hell would it be-“

I froze.

Up the shore, I had caught a glimpse of something yellow and bright. It was far away, but the color was arresting. I squinted.

A figure in the distance, crouching beside the the river’s edge. Probably filing a canteen. A figure dressed in golden attire.

Naomi.