Children of the Volcano by Parris Sheets

Author:Parris Sheets
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: teen and young adult, fantasy, epic fantasy
Publisher: Evolved Publishing LLC
Published: 2021-04-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

After two days, the hills finally smoothed into open fields. Kole’s muscles delighted. The strain of the constant up and downhill climbing exhausted him, not only because of the effort, but each step pulled the skin on the backside of his legs. Flat lands meant easy going. So he hoped.

The sun beat down. Kole’s skin warmed under the heavy cloth draped over his burns. Though meant to protect his sensitive skin, it suffocated him. He walked in the shade of the lead rambler for relief. Unable to sweat, he relied on pouring water over himself to cool down his core temperature. This worked for a time, but with the constant damp clothing rubbing against skin, whether from walking or atop the rambler, rashes formed. His inner thighs and underarms stung. He kept his grimace inward—or tried to—but Russé watched him like a hawk. One whimper escaped through his clamped lips, and the Soul closed in.

“Take a break.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then why are you wincing at every stride?” Russé waved down Shikar. “Hold.”

A tug on the lead, and the donkey stopped.

Kole sighed. The group paused, waiting for him to jump into the cart. He pushed himself when he could, not entirely out of stubbornness, though his ego did play a role, but because the added weight in the cart slowed progress. Old Jin could only handle so much. How could they expect a donkey to pull the same load as an ox? Eyes cast down, he scooted in, refusing Russé’s outstretched hand of assistance. The wheels creaked as Old Jin trudged forward.

Kole pulled the flap closed after him to keep anyone from seeing the pain on his face as he leaned against the side and peeled off the damp clothes. Digging around the pile in the corner, careful not to disturb Felix, he found the only spare clothing, borrowed from Shikar, and pulled them on. A dark-green tunic embellished with silver trim, too fancy for his taste, and a pair of baggy black trousers. The pants weren’t so bad. The loose cut gave his angry sores space. He had no idea where the Yamani had gotten this outfit; she herself wore no clothes, and even if she had gathered them for some odd occasion, they were entirely too small for her broad frame. Whether to his liking or not, he swallowed any complaint. Anything dry was a godsend. He kicked off his boots and socks, then slipped them beyond the flap to dry in the sun along with his Liberation uniform.

Alone with nothing but the groan of wood to focus on, fatigue caught up to him. He sprawled out in the small space between Felix and the cluttered supplies, using the side of a bedroll as a pillow. The gentle bounce of the cart lulled him to sleep.

Whispers woke him. Kole peeled his eyes open, still heavy from exhaustion. No matter how much sleep he managed, it never seemed enough. He lifted up and stretched his arms. His eyes perked open when he spotted the curled-up figure in the corner.

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