Chapter 17 Noviosk
A violent storm hit the region yesterday, with lashing winds and torrential rain.
“The rainy season has started!” Sam told me with her ever-present smile.
As if sheets of water pouring nonstop on the forest were some sort of delight.
And this morning kicks off with a galactic disaster, no less! A leak in the roof of my hut left a nice little puddle right next to my bed.
As soon as Sam shows up, I let loose.
“Are we living in a shelter or a sieve?” I growl, arms crossed, staring at the flooded floor.
“Well, look on the bright side—you’ve got a built-in shower now!” she says cheerfully.
“A shower? This is a swamp. And what’s your plan, huh? Let me guess—you’ll patch it with a handful of grass?”
She rolls her eyes for a second, not letting my sour mood get to her.
“No, I was thinking of asking Goulou for help.”
“You know, in a civilized place, this sort of thing wouldn’t happen in the first place,” I mutter, scanning the mess with a weary look.
“Oh, Nov, did you forget you're the one who refused to be seen in public until you’re fully healed? If you’ve changed your mind, just say the word and I’ll have the Gekkaris carry you down and load you into my aeropod.
I’ll drop you off right at Gekkar Creek, where I’m sure you’ll find plenty of ‘civilized places.’ That’s been my suggestion from the start, remember? ”
Damn this girl and her ironclad logic. And she never lies. It’s maddening. I wish I could catch her slipping up just once. But she’s right—it’s my own stubborn pride keeping me hidden away in this treetop village, rather than letting them take me somewhere with better care.
Letting anyone see me in this weakened state would be the end of my reputation.
“Fine. Forget it,” I grunt.
“I’ll fetch Goulou. Last night’s storm knocked loose some of the leaves that usually keep your roof sealed. Nothing serious. They’ll fix it up in no time,” she assures me with confidence.
“If you say so…”
Gekkaris, being just as upbeat and helpful as Sam, show up in droves—four of them—to tighten the leaf-thatch roof and patch the leak.
“Aw ohkay now!” announces Goulou, spinning his hands through the air as he has fixed the whole.
I nod without thanking him. If they’d done their job right in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened.
And truth be told, these blasted Gekkaris are starting to get on my nerves. They’re weak. Every last one of them is skinnier than Sam! If they ever got caught in a real mess, they’d get shredded by any decent Srebat or Penubian.
Not that anyone would want to bother capturing them—they have practically zero market value.
And yet, these feeble creatures live in peace, without fear. Even among themselves, there’s no conflict. No dominance. No competition. Just… cooperation.
What kind of species functions like that?
But the worst part of dealing with the Gekkaris is not being able to understand them. Makes me feel like they’re always talking about me behind my back.
And Sam? She’s picked up enough of their weird hand signals to actually talk with them! Just my luck. A Srebat like me—trained to detect the slightest nuance in tone and speech—stuck among a people who don’t even use sound!
Well… except for that damn Pherebos who outwitted me.
I keep saying it—the Stars are against me.
I don’t have much choice but to deal with it for now. But the moment I’m strong again… I’ll reclaim what’s mine. My empire will rise again.
Until then, I stew in my frustration and humiliation.
Once my roof is fixed, the little scaly crew vanishes to resume their daily bug-collecting. One of them brought me a bowl of wriggling snacks my first day here. He hasn’t tried again. I’m pretty sure he spread the word: I don’t do larvae, no matter how plump or juicy.
Sam went off with them too.
If she brought me back something red and bleeding, that’d be great. Even her little rodent pet would do. But no. She keeps feeding me soups full of boiled leaves and roots.
She did mention that the rainy season will swell a nearby stream and bring in some fish. Here’s hoping.
When she finally returns hours later, I’m starving. I greet her with a mix of hope and suspicion.
“So? What did you bring? A fat Goozil, at least?”
“Not exactly,” she says, showing off a bundle of mushrooms, herbs, and some fruit.
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. And like I already told you, there’s no way I’m giving you a Goozil. He might be related to Gooz.”
I roll my eyes. Ridiculous. That furball’s been with her for cycles. No chance another random Goozil’s his cousin.
Still, Sam’s got some… questionable principles. But I need animal protein.
“Fine. I’ll climb out of this damned tree and hunt something myself.”
“Be my guest! I’ll ask the Gekkaris to help you. You’re not ready to put weight on your ribs—or your leg. But there’s a large rocky basin nearby, filled with rainwater. Perfect for a revitalizing soak!”
Stars help me—she’s always finding a silver lining, even in a mudslide. Like every damn problem is a thrilling new opportunity!
Getting down the tree is agony. Six Gekkaris carry me like I’m ancient royalty. I grit my teeth, refusing to cry out.
When they finally set me down, there’s a makeshift bench waiting so I can catch my breath.
Why did I think hunting was a good idea? I’ll end up empty-handed and humiliated.
While I recover, I watch Sam for a moment in the sunlight—really watch her. She’s signing something with two Gekkaris.
She’s beautiful. I’ve seen plenty of humans pass through my slave pens. Everyone’s got their preferences, but she’d have fetched a fortune at the auctions.
Her golden hair gleams in the light. Her bright blue eyes are rimmed in black, glittering like jewels. She’s petite—not tiny exactly, just… everyone’s smaller than me.
She’s wearing a form-fitting bodysuit, probably meant to mimic Gekkari skin. But on her, it highlights every curve.
I’ve had a few humans in my bed. None of them looked this tempting.
Her bright eyes catch mine and I shake the thoughts away. No. She’s a weak human. A hopeless optimist. And right now, she’s the one caring for me.
Eventually… she’ll have to die. She’s seen me like this. I can’t allow that.
“Look, Nov,” she calls, “Goulou found you these two branches—they’ll work as crutches. Don’t put weight on your right foot yet. But this way, you can walk to the water.”
“Wonderful,” I mutter.
“Take this chance to admire the view!”
“Oh yeah? Trees and bushes? How impressive.”
“Stop grumbling. Look closer! That’s not just a tree—it’s a whole village. And that shack over there? My lab. That’s where I make all my ointments and salves. As for the bushes, if you look closely, they’re full of juicy little berries. Tedious to pick, but totally worth it.”
“Show me something bleeding, and then I’ll be impressed,” I reply flatly.
“This walk was a brilliant idea. You’re starting to repeat yourself like an old man,” she teases, flashing a grin.
Stars, she’s infuriating. Why can’t she just beat me up instead of babying me? That’s all I deserve after falling this low.
I used to be the supreme leader of the Eastern Quadrant. Now? I’m limping through a forest filled with mute reptiles and a cheerful blonde…
“Hey, Grumpy! We’re here!”
I’m drenched in sweat and my arms are shaking. Hunting? Yeah, not happening.
I look around. A deep rain-filled basin. Big enough to soak in. Back on Vagantu, a servant would’ve heated the water to perfection. But this’ll do. I reek—I know it.
I edge forward, trying to figure out how to lower myself in without using my bad leg. But the wet grass slips out from under me and I crash straight into the water.
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” I bark at the Gekkaris rushing over.
What am I, a fragile elder?
Sam beams from the edge.
“Well, someone was eager! You didn’t even undress first!” she laughs. “Enjoy your bath. Goulou and his buddies will help you out later. I’ll send a towel. Leave your clothes on the bank—I’ll wash them for you!”
Before I can yell at her, she vanishes behind the trees.
Floating up to my neck, the cold numbs my leg. A welcome relief.
I fumble with my soaked pants, scowling at the four Gekkaris who stayed behind to keep me company.
Or mock me. Hard to tell with their lipless, toothless faces.
Goulou figures it out and helps me strip.
For once, I actually feel… good. The cold water stings, but in a sharp, satisfying way.
I scrub every inch of myself. Most of my wounds are healing—except for my right leg. That’s where the flesh-eating slugs did the most damage, feasting on the open fracture.
Sam told me they were close to severing a nerve or vein. That would’ve meant amputation—something she doesn’t know how to do. She applies poultices to my wounds, but she’s no real doctor.
I soak for a long time, grateful to move without too much pain. Four scaly friends wait on shore. A fifth arrives with a pink wrap.
Is it just me, or is Sam deliberately trying to humiliate me?
Eventually, I haul myself out.
“You’finiss?” Goulou asks, clumsily signing.
No way I’m learning their sign language, like Sam suggested.
“Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”
Goulou gets it. Two others help pull me up.
One stares at my… anatomy. Let’s just say I don’t appreciate the attention. I growl. Loudly.
Goulou snaps at the offender, then hands me my crutches.
I wrap the pink cloth around my waist, masking my ‘offensive virility.’
Only a few hundred paces to my tree—but it may as well be light-years. I’m strong, yes, but damn, I’m heavy too.
Sam appears, as usual, with that sunshine grin.
“You look better! That bath did you good. We should do it again sometime.”
Too exhausted to answer, I turn to Goulou and nod. He gets the message.
They carry me back up, each step agony. By the time I hit my pallet, I’m soaked in sweat and still starving.
Just then, Sam enters, a bowl in her hand.
“I went hunting too!” she says, eyes twinkling.
“Ah, finally—Goozil meat! See, you can be useful.”
“Oh, Grumpy, you really are stuck on that. You’re starting to sound senile…”
What?! Does she really think I’m old?
“I’m not senile! I’m barely a few cycles older than you!”
“Maybe. But you gripe and repeat yourself like the elderly. I’ll blame your injuries for now. That means your mood will improve. Good news, right?”
She’s impossible. Beautiful and quick-witted. That’s always been a dangerous combo for me.
“Go on, eat. Flea and Mila wove a basket trap and caught a few fish. I added them to your mushroom stew. I set aside a bowl for myself, but if you’re still hungry, I’ll give you mine—I’ll survive.”
Finally. Something with protein.
I dig in. First bite makes me grimace.
“Tastes like… nothing.”
“Oh, you mean meat? Sorry, we’re fresh out.”
I say nothing, shoveling down the bland mixture. I can see the fish bits, but there’s no flavor.
Stars really are against me.
“I also made some biscuits. Want one?” she asks, biting into a round cookie.
Still hungry, I reach for it.
It surprises me—crispy on the outside, soft inside. And the flavor?
Not bad.
“Not bad,” I mutter, surprised.
We finish the biscuits fast. Best meal I’ve had since I got here.
“You know what? That was actually decent. Why didn’t you make these sooner?”
“Oh, but Goulou did offer you some. Big juicy grubs. You turned him down—very rudely, I might add.”
I freeze. She’s joking… right?
“I don’t blame you. I don’t eat them raw either. I grill them, soak them in local fruit juice, mash them into paste, and bake them on a hot stone. Simple but effective. Glad you liked them!”
She’s serious. I ate bugs. And liked them.
But no way in hell I’m admitting that.
With my belly full, a wave of exhaustion crashes over me.
Damn it. No choice but to lie down again.
Being weak… is the worst.