Watersmeet by Ellen Jensen Abbott Page A

journey together! How different it would have been standing here with Sina. Abisina pushed the thought away. She couldn’t afford to be weak now.
    She lifted her pack to her shoulder and faced Haret. “I may not be as fast as you, but I’m strong. Let me carry my own moles. I will slow us down less if I eat more frequently.”
    “Typical human,” Haret sneered, but he dug into his pack for the moles. And when they started walking, Abisina could keep up without jogging. Her head and muscles still ached and she was tired within moments, but she gritted her teeth and trudged on.
    Abisina assumed that they would stop when it got dark, but the sun sank, the stars and the waning sliver of moon peeked between the branches of the trees, and except for pausing to cover their tracks in muddy areas, Haret showed no signs of slowing. For what seemed like hours, Abisina had told herself, Any moment now, he’ll have to stop. . . . Just up that rise. . . . He’s looking for a safe place. When she realized he would not stop, she did. She sat on the ground without uttering a word, forcing Haret to circle back when he noticed that she was not behind him; he returned, stamping his feet in anger. She could just discern his solid figure in the darkness. “I have to sleep,” she told him.
    “Not yet,” he growled. “We will travel till dawn, sleep during the day, and walk again at dusk.”
    “I cannot walk all night!” Abisina insisted.
    “You must, human. We’re in the thick of centaur territory.”
    Thoughts of those cruel faces and their footless victims filled her head. And I have no bow! There was nothing for her to do but get to her feet and walk.
    Before long, they lost even the paltry light of the moon. After the sun had gone down, Abisina tripped so often that she started lifting her knees to step over the rocks or roots. But now, she was blind. She walked into branches and trees and slowed down so much that Haret made her put her hands on his shoulders. It was humiliating to be led through the dark completely dependent on Haret’s sharper night vision, and their feet got tangled more than once, sending them both into a pile on the ground. Invariably this brought curses of “Human!”
    When he stopped again, Abisina sank to the ground, beyond caring what Haret thought of her as long as she could sit for a few moments before they continued this grueling march. The trunks of the trees around her were just visible against the night sky. Dawn could not be far away.
    “It should be right here,” Haret muttered to himself and took a few steps. Abisina was too tired to ask what he meant or to follow.
    “Ah!” he cried and he was back, dragging her to her feet and pulling her forward. “Bend down,” he barked as he pushed her head toward the ground. Abisina staggered, her nose filling with the smell of dust and damp, and she knew she was in a cave. She fell to her knees and crawled, but before she’d moved the length of her body, she bumped into the rough rear wall. She lay down right there and didn’t move. Haret squeezed in behind her and slid over to the side.
    “You can sleep here,” he said. She heard him fumbling in his bag, but still she did not move. “We can sleep now,” Haret repeated irritably. When she did not answer, he reached over, yanked Abisina’s bag off her shoulder, and pulled out her sleeping pelts. Abisina wanted to refuse his help but couldn’t summon the energy even to lift her head. She fell asleep before Haret had laid the pelts over her.
    Haret shook Abisina awake at twilight, the last rays of the sun visible through the cave’s entrance. He handed her a few pieces of dried mole, a wedge of badger cheese, some flatbread, and her water skin. Abisina pulled herself into a sitting position, every muscle crying out in pain, while Haret gathered up her sleeping pelts, stowed them in her bag, and then stood impatiently clenching and unclenching a handful of dirt.
    As soon as Abisina had choked