Starkissed (12 page)

She felt no more than a pinprick just before the Commander reached around her to snatch it away and smash it to the ground.

“Leith!”

“I think we overreacted,” she said just before white-hot pain seared her shoulder blade and spasmed through her muscles. Her whole body stiffened, and she couldn’t move her right arm at all. With difficulty, she lifted her left arm and slapped her hand on his chest, her fingers closing over the soft material of his jacket. She clung to him to keep from toppling over.

“J-J’Qhir—I found—water,” she whispered before the pain increased to an intensity she could no longer bear. She fell into his arms as she allowed her mind to shut down, then knew nothing more.

”””

Wrapped in the solar film, J’Qhir fed the fire. How he had managed to do all that needed to be done before nightfall chilled him into immobility defied logic.

For one moment, one small portion of a heartbeat, he had almost succumbed to his despair. He considered plunging the stinger from one of the dying creatures into his own flesh and ending it all. Because in that one everlasting moment, he thought Leith had died in his arms.

She had lain as still as a stone, no breath passing through her pale lips. As he contemplated the thought of his own demise, her body convulsed, the shudder rippling through her like a wave. She breathed again. Shallowly, tortuously, but she breathed.

Carefully, he turned her over and tore her shirt away from the spot where the huge insect had stung her. The bump was as large as his fist. He unsheathed his knife. He couldn’t take the time to fight his way through the brambles, hobble to the flightpack and jacket where she’d left them in the clearing, and fight his way back again. The poison would have time to work its way through her system, and she might be truly dead before he returned. He could only hope the blade was clean enough. He inhaled sharply, held her body on its side, and made the first incision.

Clear yellow fluid spurted from the cut. He sliced again, across the first. He squeezed, letting the poison drain to the ground, until only blood flowed freely, clean and red, and the lump had diminished to no more than irritated flesh.

He was loath to leave her, but he needed the medkit now. Awkwardly, he crawled to the nearest thorn bush. He couldn’t leave the thicket the same way they had entered it. He www.samhainpublishing.com

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Lanette

Curington

grasped the thick stem close to the ground and yanked. The soil was dry and loose, threaded with spindly roots. The bush pulled free easier than he could have hoped for. It didn’t take long to clear a path.

He retrieved the flightpack and jacket from beneath the tree where she’d left them and returned to her side. In the medkit, he found packets clearly marked. He spoke her language more fluently than he could read it, so he wasted precious minutes trying to decipher the lettering.

Gently, he wiped the area with a small pad soaked in an antibacterial solution. Then he dusted it with antiseptic powder. He applied a skinseal to compress the wound and stop the bleeding.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her chest shuddered with each inhalation. He laid his fingers along her wrist. The pulse was not as strong as he thought it should be. He knew next to nothing about humans. Compared to a Zi heartbeat, hers was much weaker.

Perhaps it should be so.

Dried blood smeared her ivory skin from cuts on cheek and arms, but none were serious. He too had suffered scratches from the thorns, but they would heal rapidly. Their minor wounds could wait until he had them encamped for the night.

Leith said she had found water. Now, he had to find it again.

He could leave her to hunt for the water by himself. He could follow her trail more quickly unburdened by her weight. Then he would return for her and carry her directly to the water source even more quickly. That meant two trips on an injured leg that could crumple beneath him at any moment. The alternative was to carry her with him now. He was unsure if he could even lift her.

The sun had moved closer to the mountaintops, and J’Qhir was aware of every second he spent in indecision. Leith would be appalled at his lack of command.
Think,
stupid Rep!
he chastised himself using her language in his mind.

He couldn’t leave her unprotected. What if the horde of flying creatures returned?

J’Qhir tried several ways to lift her to his good shoulder and rise with his good leg, but her weight overbalanced him. He couldn’t find enough leverage…or enough strength to withstand the pain that clawed at his injured limbs when he tried to use them.

He had to build a litter.

By the time he found two suitable branches and entwined them with enough vine to hold her weight, the sun was much closer to the mountaintops. He mindfully rolled her onto the litter and placed the flightpack and jacket between her legs. He dug in the pack for the canteen and found it full.

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Starkissed

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He poured a little through her lips. Her throat automatically worked to swallow.

After she had taken in a few sips, he turned the canteen up to his mouth. He gulped the fresh water, draining the container. He needed the liquid, and he didn’t plan to stop again until he reached the water source.

Using the laserlight, he burned the path clear of branches and roots. He lifted the litter poles and started at a steady pace.

From the clearing he went “north”, as she had called it, and easily found her trail.

She had broken many branches along the way. He smiled briefly. Leith was capable of much more than she thought. Her broken trail would lead them directly to the water source. Spring or stream or ocean, he didn’t know. Only water.

Pain was his constant companion. After a while he could no longer remember what it was like not to hurt. Each time he set down a foot, the jolt sent a laserblast throughout his lower body. Every bump of the litter jarred his aching shoulder. Soon the two blended into one unending wave that undulated along every nerve. Liquid filled his eyes, but he never lessened his pace.

As the chilling winds of evening stirred around him, incessant pain prevented the natural lethargy from overtaking his senses. He remained alert enough to continue placing one foot in front of the other. Each step taken was a step closer to survival.

He came upon the stream before he knew it. In his fugue state, he took too long to react to the realization that flowing water lay in his path. He plowed to a halt only after his boots sank ankle-deep in the muddy bank. He dropped the litter where he stood. He would make camp here, close to the water’s edge.

He stumbled around in the twilight, dragging his leg, as he gathered wood. Somehow he had built a fire. Somehow he had found the film and wrapped it around his shoulders.

Somehow he had located the small metal pot and filled it with water. All of these things he did, but now he had only a vague recollection of performing the tasks.

When he touched Leith an unnaturally high heat radiated from her flushed skin. He covered her with her jacket. He used several of the diaphanous cloths from the medkit to dip in water and wash her brow. The packets were marked
gauze—
a strong word for such flimsy material.

Now, after drinking his fill of fresh water and eating half a protein bar and a handful of nutmeats, he was warm and more clear-headed. He picked up each packet in turn from the medkit and squinted into the firelight. He hissed at his failing eyesight and wished he’d thought to bring his glasses. He’d left them aboard his warship on the desk in his cabin, which was no larger than the detention cell on the
Catherine McClure.
If
his personal belongings hadn’t been removed yet.

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70

Lanette

Curington

His disappearance—no, his apparent
defection
—would allow the Council to effectively eradicate his entire existence as well as bring dishonor to his clan
.
His distant relatives would be bewildered by this turn of events, but they would accept the Council’s decision with grace. His clan would lose their land grants, mining rights, and their seat in the General Council. They would, in effect, be ostracized by society.

Elder M’bat`h would have no qualms about making the pronouncement. He followed the ancient Code to the letter. Elder P`hiìn would be smug. And poor Elder S`huhfh would be uncertain, but he would agree, cowed by the stronger personalities of the other two Council members.

With a hiss, J’Qhir turned his attention to the medicines. Many packets were labeled

“to reduce fever”. He tore open several. The small white pills fell into his palm. Leith would not be able to swallow them. He crushed four of them into a powder and mixed in water. Holding the cup to her lips, he was able to get her to drink all of the mixture. He spent the next few hours bathing her smooth forehead with cool water.

Later, J’Qhir dozed and dreamed of the Bh’rin’gha. A part of him knew he dreamed for he often experienced this vision of an imaginary past when away from his home world. As the dream concluded, he cried out and jerked upright, sloshing water from the pot. The gauze cloths fell from his cramped fingers. He blinked at the firelight and looked to Leith.

He laid his hand on her forehead. Less heat emanated from her skin. He fumbled with the packets of fever reducers, crushed the tablets, and dissolved them in water as he’d done before.

“Leith,” he murmured as he eased his arm under her head and put the cup to her lips.

He had twisted his leg upon awakening and now his knee began its rhythmic throb. The tablets were also for eliminating pain, but their supply was limited. He had no idea how long Leith would suffer the fever. He could endure the pain. “Drink, Leith,” he coaxed.

At the sound of his voice, the fringes of hair on her eyelids fluttered open revealing dilated eyes. Her hand wavered in the air then rested on his arm.

“Commander,” she whispered. She blinked until her eyes focused and squeezed his arm. “J’Qhir…”

“Drink, Leith.”

She swallowed the concoction, made a face and shuddered at the taste.

“Y-You found the stream?”

“Yesss. I followed your trail of broken branchesss quite easssily.” He removed his arm from under her head. She wouldn’t release his other arm. He set the cup aside with his free hand.

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“What happened, J’Qhir? I don’t remember—”

“A flying creature ssstung you.” Tentatively, he covered her hand with his. “I drained the poissson immediately, but sssome ssseeped into your sssystem. You have a fever.”

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

A bit of warmth crept into his face. “Are you hungry? Do you want water?”

“Water.”

He held the canteen, and both of her hands grasped his as she drank. When she had finished, she would not loosen her hold on one of his hands.

“Leith, I need to change the dresssing.”

Only then did she reluctantly let him go.

He helped her to turn over, then pulled the skinseal away from the wound. She shuddered and her hand clenched the sleeve of her jacket, but she uttered no sound. The flesh was an angry red, yet he saw no sign of infection. He dusted antiseptic and used another seal.

As she settled, she found his hand again and held it. “Are you warm enough?”

“Yesss. Thisss night isss not very cold.”

Her eyelids shut, and he thought she slept. He did not try to remove his hand and disturb her. She needed the healing rest. Besides, he found comfort in the simple contact.

“Tell me,” Leith said suddenly, startling him.

“Tell you what?”

“Will you tell me about Zi?”

“Zi?” J’Qhir paused. “What do you wisssh to know?”

“Your home. What it’s like.”

“Zi isss a sssmall world. Mossstly arid land. Sssand asss far asss the eye can sssee.

Where there isss not sssand, there isss rock. Pilesss and heapsss and moundsss of rock. I am from the Bh’rin’gha, the largessst and driessst desssert on Zi.
Bh’rin’gha
meansss

‘dry’.”

“Bh’rin’gha,” she repeated. “Tell me about the Bh’rin’gha.”

“A vassst area of white sssand from what we call the Burning Mountain to the Empty River.”

“Empty River?”

“Sssome claim the riverbed once carried water from the mountainsss, but it wasss long before we began to record our hissstory. They sssay our world wasss once asss green and lusssh asss Paradissse, but a natural catassstrophe occurred—”

“Asteroid.”

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Lanette

Curington

“What?”

“Scientists say a natural disaster occurred on Earth millions of years ago, too. The theory is an asteroid hit the planet and the dinosaurs, gigantic animals that roamed Earth at the time, were killed off by the impact and the winter conditions that followed.”

“Ssscientistsss alwaysss have theoriesss. Sssome thingsss are not meant to be known.”

“Once there was a theory that a certain plant the dinosaurs ate for a laxative became extinct.” She paused. “They say the dinosaurs died of constipation.”

He saw her smile and heard a strange gurgling sound, but he found nothing amusing in the extinction of any lifeform. Perhaps she was delirious from the fever.

“Sssleep, Leith. We both need the ressst.”

“Only if you sleep with me. I’m cold.”

“I need to watch the fire.”

“Put all the wood you have on it. It’ll last till morning.”

“I might hurt you.”

“You won’t. Not much. It doesn’t hurt too bad.”

Sharing a blanket with a
saàloh
he was not bound to wasn’t proper. Humans, he had been told, were not concerned with propriety. Humans did as they pleased without thought to tradition or custom and did not follow rules, even their own.

Leith did not know what she asked of him. Yet, their circumstances were unusual.

They had to share the blanket because there was only one blanket on the whole planet.