CARRIE SEEMS TO HAVE DRIFTED INTO UNCONSCIOUSNESS AGAIN. I THINK IT’S THE FIFTH TIME SINCE THE SCRIPTIO CAMP. I know it won’t be helping her health, but it relieved a part of me. It seems to be the only way to give her a slight bit of relief from the pain.

There is hard riding for what seems to be an hour before I check Carrie’s temperature. It’s only half an hour before we get to the Guardian’s camp, but I need to dress her wounds or there might not be another thirty minutes to spare.

“We need a break,” I say urgently, breaking the silence since the Scriptios.

Zak nods and the horse slows. He slips off and takes Carrie from me. His face goes white when he sees the blood. It seems to be everywhere, dripping off her clothing and on my armour. Carrie stirs in his arms. Her face is the colour of fresh snow in the Western Mountains. Her lips are thin and pale.

Carrie’s eyes open slowly, groaning as Zak repositions her in his arms.

“Darsal?” she calls out.

I slide off the horse, stepping up next to her. I only have the time to notice his hand shaking slightly. He looks sick.

“Shhh, Carrie. I’m right here. We’re going to get you safe,” I whisper gently, putting a finger on her lips. Her skin is hot to the touch.

I push away the branches and sticks, laying a blanket on the ground next to a log. I do my best to make it comfortable before Zak carefully sets her down. I hadn’t known how much Zak cares for Carrie until I notice how gently he handles her. It’s hard to imagine they’re the same calloused hands I’ve watched time and time again wield a sword or throw a lance with more force than a charging bull.

Fifteen minutes later, I have Carrie’s wounds dressed the best I can with the herbs and things I can find in the woods. Carrie has fallen to exhaustion and is sleeping on the mat. Zak is poking at the fire, sitting on the log. I stand, brushing the dirt for my knees, leaving Carrie to sleep peacefully. Well, as much as she can. I join Zak on the log, watching the flames jump to and fro.

“When we were trying to get Carrie, we overheard my father talking about the Hunters. Who do you think they were?”

I freeze. I know. I know very well who the Hunters are, but I don’t think I want Zak to.

I just shrug and keep looking at the flames.

There is nothing but silence. I can hear Carrie give a muffled cry. I can’t bear to look at my anguished sister. I would give the world to switch places right now, but there is nothing I can do to help her.

“Do,” I pause, “Do you think Carrie is going to be okay?”

He doesn’t turn for a long moment, staring at the fire. Finally, he says:

“I’d be lying if I said she was for sure going to make it through, because, if I’m honest Darsal, I don’t know.”

I can feel the tears I have been suppressing all day slide down my cheeks. At least he's honest. Brutally, yes, but he’s honest. Zak sits back to look at me. I don’t wipe the tears, and he doesn’t tell me to stop.

“I know,” I whisper, my voice cracks, “But can—can we just pretend we know? Know that everything is going to be alright?”

Zak’s face softens. I can tell he wishes the same.

“Sure,” he says gently, putting an arm around my shoulders.

There is nothing romantic about it, thank the heavens, but for the first time in a long time, I feel like I have a friend I can depend on. I finally let the tears slide down my face without trying to hold them back.

Zak says nothing, only squeezes my shoulder. We both sit there in silence for a long moment. That's when I feel the slight quiver in Zak’s shoulder. I look up at him. Silent tears are sliding down his face. It takes a long moment for me to process that. Zak is—crying? But then, it makes perfect sense. Not any less than me crying. It just, I don’t know. I just never thought Zak of all people would cry. I take in a shaky breath, calming my nerves.

Carrie gives a pained cry from the blanket. I slowly stand up and check her pulse. I jerk my hand away. Her forehead is burning to the touch.

“Zak, we have to go. Now,” I say, doing a poor job of hiding the panic.

The next moment, he’s there, touching her forehead. He has the same reaction as me to the heat. I can tell by his expression that he’s panicking, too.

I go untie the horse from the tree, where it had been peacefully chewing on a few weeds. I mount and Zak carefully hands me my sister, wrapped up in the blanket. In an instant, the horse is running again, with renewed energy.

“I will not lose you. I will not lose you now,” I whisper over and over, hold Carrie against my chest.

Twenty minutes before we’re going to get to the Guardian’s village, I seem to lose track of time, all my thoughts revolving around Carrie. The crimson liquid is seeping through her new bandages, and all I can do is hope that we make it. I still have a throbbing pain in my ear and I think I have perhaps temporarily lost my hearing.

My mind seems to be stuck in glue. The only thing in there with me is Carrie and the throbbing pain in my ear.

I can hear the protest of some Guardians on duty, but Zak just yells something about life or death. Life or death? For who? My mind seems to have forgotten multiple pieces of valuable information, but my mind can’t seem to grasp just quite what it is. I can feel the horse come to an abrupt halt.

Zak slides off the horse. I can hear him arguing with a Guardian.

“Stop. Please,” I whisper, head pounding.

Zak takes Carrie as I slip off. I don’t know if my mind is playing tricks on me, but I’m pretty sure the man’s face turns a funny colour. He calls out for the medical workers. Soon, there are a dozen people swarming around us. I can vaguely see Carrie being pulled away on a stretcher. I try to run after her, but everything swims. I can’t seem to run in a straight line.

Everything around me seems to go in circles before the ground rushes towards me and everything goes black.

***

I can see a hazily familiar face staring back at me. Blond hair, blue eyes.

“Sam, why am I…” I say, trying to get up. I fall back, head throbbing.

“Shhh, Darry. Shhh, you’re safe now,” he whispers, putting a hand on my forehead before I slump into unconsciousness again.

***

Intermittent beams stare back at me. It takes a long moment for everything to come into focus. I lay down on a soft white bed. It’s a fairly small room with nothing but a nightstand. Bamboo walls—why does that seem so familiar? The night’s events come rushing back to me, nearly knocking me back into unconsciousness another time.

“Mrs. Fern! She’s back!” a voice calls out. Then, “Hey, Darsal. Welcome back to Earth.”

I look over to find Zak sitting on a stool against the wall. He seems apprehensive and high-strung.

“Please, stay still. When you don’t, you turn a weird colour and then pass out,” Zak requests, standing.

Before I can do anything, he leaves the room hastily. I can hear him whispering with someone in the hallway before two women enter the room, one holding a reed basket. One is in her late twenties and the other is an elderly lady with a broad smile.

“Hello, dearie,” she says, “Sarah, can you go get a glass of water?”

The younger woman nods and heads out the door. Mrs. Fern puts down her basket and brushes a few loose strands of hair from my face.

“Now, honey, let's get you dressed out of that nightgown.”

No matter my hurry to go find Carrie, I know I’m a mess, covered in blood and dirt. I soon find myself clean, sitting before a mirror, Mrs. Fern brushing my hair into a sleek copperish-coloured curtain. I’m wearing a white sleeveless summer dress with a green silk belt.

It’s been so long since I’ve worn any kind of dress that I’ve forgotten how nice it felt; it’s so light compared to the heavy leather the Scriptios make us wear. Mrs. Fern hands me a pair of sandals that wind up my calf. I put them on, thanking the old lady. I tie up my hair as I leave. I’m just going through the front door when I narrowly avoid colliding with Zak.

“There you are!” he says, grabbing my hand and practically dragging me down the street without an explanation.

I follow obediently, hair forgotten.

A few moments later, he pushes me through the door of a medical tent. My heart skips a beat. Lying beneath a white sheet is Carrie, thin face peeking out from underneath.

“Darsal!” she shrieks, staring up at the ceiling, thrashing against the blanket.

“Hey, hey. I’m right here, girly. I’m right here. You’re safe now,” I murmur, rushing next to her and sitting in the chair, “Shhh. You’re safe now.”

Carrie cries, body shaking beyond her control. I take her hand, stroking the back with my thumb. Tears threaten to overtake me once again.

“Darsal, don't go. Please don’t leave me,” she sobs.

“No, I won’t ever do that again. Never. I—I’m sorry Carrie,” I promise.

“Promise me, Darsal. Promise me you won’t ever leave me,” Carrie pleads.

“I promise, Carrie. I promise,” I say, squeezing her hand.

Carrie only just has the time to give a weak smile before she goes unconscious once again. I stare helplessly at her small face as a nurse comes, wiping Carrie’s forehead with a cool cloth.

“She’s been like that ever since last night. Mostly unconscious and yelling your name, waking up, not recognizing anybody. She began yelling for you as soon as she woke,” Zak says from a stool on the other side of the medical bed.

I nod. Carrie’s tiny figure sends fear crawling down my spine. What if she doesn’t… I push the thought away. Her lips are thin and pale. Her dirty blond hair is spread on the pillow around her head.

“She’s going to make it,” I resolve, as if it were for certain.

Zak pauses, mouth open, before saying softly, “Sure. For your sake, she will.”