Rebel of Scars and Ruin (The Evolved Book 1) by Veronica Sommers

Author:Veronica Sommers [Sommers, Veronica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-26T06:00:00+00:00

15

We climb back in the COB after fresh fuel for the machine and water for the rest of us. More heat, scouring and searing my skin. More rumbling engine, more sand kicked up in clouds. I hate the gritty grains between my teeth, under my fingernails.

I used to be bright and vivid and confident, like a thriving plant in a shady green forest far away. Here under the sun I am wilting, fading to nothing. The desert drinks the life from me until I am a sunken husk. My shoulders slump, my head hangs forward; I have no energy to sit upright. My eyes are closing.

"Here." Safi jostles my arm. "Drink this." She holds out a silver bottle.

"Water?" I ask.

"Something better. Keeps me awake after night shifts, when I don't have time to sleep during the day."

She's probably even more exhausted than I am. "If you need it, I don't want to—"

"Stop being such a Ceannan. Out here, if you need something, you take it. No apologies."

I snatch the bottle. "Fine."

"Just a sip," she warns.

I let the cool liquid flow into my mouth, and I swallow once.

Instead of burning down my throat like Alik's liquor, this drink spreads a delicious coolness along my parched throat, down into my sand-scratched lungs, up into my foggy brain. Clarity, refreshment, relief.

"What is that?" I gasp.

"Hulem."

Rak leans forward, frowning. "You gave her hulem?"

"Got a problem with that, Maraj? Against your religion?"

"Actually, yes."

"But drinking isn't?"

"Not in moderation, no."

"Hulem is no worse than a good stiff drink. In fact it gives you clarity instead of taking it away."

"It's addictive," says Rak, looking at me. "You feel good, yes? Calm and clear?"

I nod.

"Some people get hooked on it, and they chase that feeling at any cost." He glances at the back of Safi's head.

Safi's room was so bare, as if she had sold everything of any value. Maybe it wasn't just engine parts and tools she was buying with her wages—maybe this hulem stuff was involved.

"I don't have a problem with it," says Alik. "Can I have a swig?"

Safi nods, so I pass him the bottle. He drinks and holds it out to Rak, who shakes his head and looks away.

"You Maraj," says Alik, chuckling. "You miss out on so many things."

"What things?" I ask.

"You haven't told her about the Maraj religion yet?" Alik laughs louder. "Oh, this is going to be interesting." He leans back among the fuel canisters, trying to look comfortable, but after a minute he sits up again, frowning. "This bin is a piss-poor resting place. When do we camp?"

"When it's dark," Safi answers. "Plenty of time for Rak to share his faith."

As curious as I am about Rak's culture, I can't stand the mocking tone they've adopted, or the silent slope of his shoulders. "You don't have to talk about it," I tell him. He doesn't look at me.

"What good is faith if you can't discuss it in friendly company?" says Alik. "Go on, Maraj. Enlighten the Ceannan."

"Shut up, Alik," I say.

"No, he's right.

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