Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 57
When his breathing settled down, he concentrated on
raising his right arm. It moved like a leaden object, hand
flopping. He brought it across his chest, and vainly tried to roll
over. What was wrong with him? His body had never betrayed
him like this before.
His head fell to the side. A meter away, a woman slept
on her side, hands folded in front of her as though in prayer.
Seeing her, Jordan knew what was wrong--or at least why. The
witch had paralyzed him so he wouldn't run away. She
intended some evil for him, that was certain.
He moaned, and her eyelids twitched. Suddenly more
afraid of being helpless with her awake, he held his breath. His
vision began to grey after a few moments, and he started
gasping again. She took no notice.
He was trapped, his choice either to be awake in a
nightmare reality where his family was lost--or to be asleep and
open his eyes in an inferno. He whimpered, and shut his eyes,
and the very act of doing so propelled him into a dizzying spin
that ended in unconsciousness.
Calandria awoke refreshed. She was on her side facing
the boy, who was sprawled awkwardly as though he'd been
fighting with her cloak. The sun was higher overhead and the
morning was warming up nicely. She sat up, brushing leaves
and bits of bark from her cheek, and smiled. The air was fresh
and the sounds of the forest relaxing. Her job was going very
well. Feeling lighthearted, she cleaned herself up, rolled the
boy into a more comfortable position, and set about making a
small fire. When that was going to her satisfaction, she rooted
through her pouches, considering the rations situation. They
would need more than the concentrated foods she had on her.
Best reserve those for an emergency.