Phoebe let out a deep sigh of exhaustion and sat back on her haunches in the course earth. She removed her shoes and set them next to her basket, which sagged under the weight of its bulbous green contents.
The title of "least favorite part of being a slave" was a competitive one, but only when Derek wasn't around. Right now, she struggled to choose between the cuts and scratches on her hands from harvesting fade-talents, and the burns. Every so often, the big wall of gas less than a mile away from her would shower little specks of itself, and if it touched the skin, it felt like garlic in a cut. At least for Phoebe, the burns didn't stick. They just faded away after a few minutes. For the other slaves, the ones Derek didn't own who worked the fields north and south of his, those burns were permanent. She didn't know why she was different, but she certainly didn't make a big deal about it. The less unique a slave was, the better.
Phoebe was too unique as it was. Her lack of scars continued to draw Derek's eye. She wore a slave dress sewn for her as a gift from him. A reward for a particularly good harvest a year ago, which revealed more than anything she'd seen another fogcrawler slave wear. He knew she could shrug off the burns from the Fade, and this was one way he took thorough advantage of her uniqueness.
At least she could be alone when she worked, and didn't have to deal with other slaves competing for resources from her master. The majority of Phoebe's experience with other slaves was the fact that they would turn her in if she wandered north or south, off her designated plot and into theirs. The rewards, and more importantly the punishments for failing to do so, turned them into pitiable versions of the slave catchers she knew all too well. Euffie was not a complacent slave, and she never would be if she had anything to say about it. She got herself through most days by scheming to get her rune off, and trying not to think about how many plans she’d already lost, wiped away in rune maintenance visits.
A mosquito landed on her collarbone. Phoebe crushed it without thinking. She took a deep breath, and exhaled, letting the dry air wash over her aching muscles as soothingly as it could. Phoebe ran a hand over her bald head, wiping off sweat that had accumulated there. It was useless; next to the Fade, the wind hardly ever blew. All it did was make Phoebe feel even stickier than the nadderfruit between her fingers already did. Nadderfruit was one of Derek's favorite fade-talents, and that made the stickiness even worse. Euffie would almost have preferred harvesting a different talent, something else that only seemed to appear at the edges of the Fade, like zukern metal. At the very least, it would give her practice swinging a sharp object, and she could definitely think of ways that would be useful.
"Rather be digging for black diamonds than these," Phoebe muttered. The day was almost over, and so was the nadderfruit season. Just a little longer until sundown, and then all she had left to do were the chickens. At least it was still caskerwol, the half of the year when there was a night time, and not just one sun setting as the other rose. She looked forward to that cool night breeze, from the inside of her attic window.
Just as Phoebe gathered herself enough to finish work for the day, a beetle bit her foot all the way to the title of "least favorite part of being a slave". She screamed and kicked back at it. She rose to her feet and promptly collapsed as she stepped on the bitten toe. Through blurry eyes, she saw the beetle scurry away into the dirt, down a hole she'd been sitting directly on top of.
"Agh … " she moaned, laying her foot across her lap and pulling it close. "How – the hell – does a bug that big fit – in such a tiny hole?"
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Phoebe rocked back and forth, nursing the foot. She pulled her sandals close, but didn't put them on yet. She still had fruit to pick; the basket was heavy, but had enough space left that Derek would have questions. Possibly punishments. He was already on edge since this morning, and she didn't know why. He'd chained her up in her room, again. He'd done that all throughout this year's baskerwol.
Phoebe felt tears welling up in her eyes again, even as the pain subsided somewhat. She was in no condition to walk. Barridian beetle venom was mostly harmless, after an hour when the hellish pain went away. Still, that left her no time to harvest and fill her quota for the day. Derek would have to ride out here on his horse to take her back, once she missed curfew. He'd make her work earlier and later tomorrow, once her foot was healed, and he'd find a way to make back the money he spent on ointment to make sure her foot didn't develop any nasty damage and make her even less useful.
Or less beautiful, she thought with a grimace. Gah, to hell with him.
The most dangerous thing about a Barridian beetle bite, however, was that its venom reacted with human blood to create a scent human noses couldn't detect. What could detect it, however, was the Vimovarv Cobra, which Phoebe only remembered a minute or so later when she spotted one sliding toward her through the desert brush. It slowly slithered its triangular head framed by an imperial black and red hood. The things were supposedly quite rare; Phoebe had been stung by beetles before, and never attracted one until now.
With a scream, Phoebe leapt to her feet, only to suck all that air back in and collapse on her back again. That beetle bite had rendered her foot useless, and she made it exponentially worse by putting weight on it. But she needed to run. That snake was after her foot, and if it sank its teeth in, she was done for. On its own, the cobra's venom was lethal in days. Combined with beetle venom, it could kill in minutes.
I'm going to die, Phoebe realized as she scrabbled away with her one useful leg. That thing is gonna bite me, and I'm going to die here, a mile away from the Fade. I'll never get this rune off. I'll never –
The snake lunged for her foot.
Something inside Phoebe flared. Something she didn't recognize the moment it ceased. The rune on her cheek flared too, but for a moment, Phoebe was able to push it aside. With the familiarity of walking, and the speed of a scream, Phoebe raised a rock, and smashed the snake's head down in mid-strike. Silver light flashed. Somehow, Phoebe's hand and body moved faster than a lunging snake.
Less than a second later, whatever it was passed. The rune locked back up again before Phoebe could realize what was happening.
She looked at the rock in her hand, and saw bits of the snake's head dripping off of it. Its broken teeth peeled off and fell on her dress. The rock itself cracked from the impact side.
Phoebe heard a noise behind her, like a huge wave of water taking its time to come crashing down. She turned, and for just a moment, she saw the Fade moving toward her at the speed of a walking person. If she blinked, she would've missed it, but for just a second, Phoebe knew she saw the skyscraping wall of gas move. And only that part of it nearest to her. Phoebe's wide eyes locked onto it for a moment, afraid that if she looked away it would move again.
Then, the pain in her foot prevented any further thought except to grab her basket and start limping back to the farm, before another Vimovarv Cobra came after her foot. She nursed her screaming foot again, her attention diverted. The Fade didn't seem to move any further without eyes on it.
"Damned snake," she muttered. She kicked aside its long, headless body. "Serves you right."
Since Phoebe is the main character, do you think Phoebe and Derek have both been given enough POV time?
