44. Ree
44
Ree
I smack Thivoll on the shoulder, but I can't really disagree with him.
"I don't appreciate it when people look at me like that, Kuret. And Thivoll is thinking violent thoughts."
He looks over to Thivoll, runs his hands along the glowing patterns on each cheek, causing them to ripple a lighter green, and then wipes both hands down his chest.
From the look on his face, I assume it's an apologetic gesture.
"Is he your chosen donor? I assumed you were not compatible. Aren't you too young?"
He shakes himself and keeps talking, not allowing me to answer his questions. "It is my error and a wound to my honor."
Donor? What an odd way to talk about being with someone.
We haven't exactly defined our odd relationship, but Kuret doesn't need to know that.
"He is my, uh . . . donor? But no honor has been wounded. How about we take care of that one to your stomach? I will show you how to use the genali tools so you can heal any later wounds."
He flicks one of his fingers across the top of his other hand, then sits back against the tree.
From the context, I assume it signals agreement. I hope so, at least. I move forward, keeping my hands well away from my body to decrease any misunderstandings.
I highly doubt he hasn't hidden weapons somewhere in all of that armor.
As I kneel in front of him, he pulls at hooks of sinew at his sides, releasing the front part of his breastplate. From the way the skin is pulled tight over the sharp planes of his face, it must be very painful.
"May I help?"
He stills, the skin on his brow lowering. He doesn't have eyebrows, but the movement is human enough that I think I've insulted him somehow.
Thivoll settles in close, his fur puffed out so much he looks like he's been electrocuted. I glance back to Kuret.
"Was that a violent question?"
I blink at 'violent' coming out of my mouth instead of 'rude.' I wonder what that says about his culture.
"It is an insult."
"My honor is lowered. I am a healer. I meant no insult."
"As you said, no honor is lost. We are different, but you are not offering violence. You may help."
I smile at him before I can think better of it, but he simply smiles back at me, the sharp points of his many teeth pushing little divots down into a thick bottom lip that's so dark gray it's almost black.
His mouth is much wider than a human's. His jaw doesn't come to a point, but arcs forward in a half circle. His cheek bones jut out and run under his large eyes at a sharp angle from his almost nonexistent nose up into his thick black hair.
There is a ribbed structure where a nose would be, but from movement rustling his braids in the same rhythm his chest falls, I would guess his nostrils are near the spiked structures that are in a similar location as human ears.
I move my hands slowly toward the other side of his breastplate. My hands are trembling despite my bravado.
He's huge. Not as bulky as Thivoll, but still nearly twice my height. He looks like he could break me in half and judging by his language and armor; he is well-versed in using force.
I unhook the loops despite my fear.
In a few brief moments, he can pull away the breastplate. When he pulls up a rough spun shirt, my medical brain takes over and pushes any doubts out of my mind.
His muscles clearly show through his skin, but instead of the bumps of human abdominal muscles they run in long thick ridges in a repeated V pattern that meets in the middle of his chest and stomach. Swirling patterns of the same green illumination flow along them.
I shake myself out of my burning curiosity and narrow in on the stab wound leaking dark green blood.
"I am grabbing a tool," I warn him so he doesn't stab me in alarm.
I pull out the stitch clipper and hold it out to show him. "This will tie your wound together. The ties will melt when your body no longer needs them. It will hurt when I use it. Did you get one from the genali?"
"I did. But I left it under a bush."
"That is good. Watch how I use it and ask questions as needed. May I touch you?"
"You may touch me."
"This will hurt."
He smiles at me again. I'm pretty sure he's amused. Hopefully not because I've trampled all over social decorum.
I mean, Thivoll still doesn't know what it means when he rubs my butt. I wouldn't have guessed his tail was erogenous. I might be about to get very personal.
Nurses do what needs to be done, so it doesn't matter, anyway.
I reach forward to assess the depth of the stab. It goes in at least a couple inches. For a human that is all it would take to be very dangerous.
"Did it hit anything vital? Can I just close it up?"
"It is only on the surface."
"Good. I am grabbing another thing."
More of his sharp teeth are showing when I look back up at him. Yes, I'm definitely being entertaining.
I grin back. Entertaining is far better than dead because I did something stupid.
"This will clean your wound," I explain and then I focus on my task.
He doesn't seem very concerned about the blood loss, but I don't like it. I make quick work out of spraying some of the disinfectant and closing it up. I use a few more stitches than I think are necessary, the clicks of each staple the only sound for a short while.
"That looks good, my Ree," Thivoll comments.
I turn to Thivoll with a smile, then Kuret's voice pulls my attention back to him.
"I thought you looked too young for a donor, but your teeth are worn. Are you actually old?" Kuret asks as he pulls his shirt back down.
I'm not sure why he seems so focused on my age, but I can understand why he's confused about my teeth.
It seems like sharp teeth are the norm around here and I'm just another harmless human with our 'ruminant' chompers.
I laugh, and it makes his eyes widen. "No. Humans just don't have many natural defenses."
He makes a deep clicking sound. "But those black scales look thick."
I'm still getting used to having those. "Those are new. I got them from Thivoll."
He shrinks back into the tree and a hand strays down to his thigh.
"Wait! I didn't take them. I was captured by the same aliens you just killed. It's because of them I can look more like him."
"Why would they do that?"
"I was supposed to be a pleasure slave."
The patterns along his body flare. "They truly have no honor, then."
"No, I don't think they do."
"Then they will get no mercy."
I think Thivoll will like this one.
They share a penchant for violence, though Thivoll still doesn't seem to have caught on yet to how bloodthirsty he is and Kuret has no qualms.
It seems like as good a time as any to ask him if he wants to help us. "Would you join us? We would be stronger together."
"You seem like you have honor."
"Well, yes, but maybe not like you think of it. I need to find other women like me and protect them."
He sits forward, his eyes pinning me with new intensity.
"Where?"
"We don't know. Well, except for one. Maybe two. We met another person—Szhe'ka, he looks like a very large bird man, except they cut off his wings–who is going to protect the one he saw. There are six more out there."
"They would be found faster if I look where you do not."
I let out a long breath, the ever-present tightness in my chest loosening just that little more now that I have more help.
"That's true, but we are also safer together. This will be a risk for you."
I wish I had said the same to Szhe'ka. It leaves a sick taste in my mouth to think of the poor male.
"Danger is where the most honor is found."
I smile, and he smiles back.
Just like I did with Szhe'ka, I ask my suit to free my hair and then pull it forward to where he can see it.
His patterns flicker as he looks down the length of it. "Beautiful."
"Thank you. I hate it . . . but that doesn't matter. Each of us has different colored long hair like this. It isn't normal for us, so if you find them outside of a cryogenic chamber, they might have cut it off. I mean . . . they might be in a silver container or maybe already out of it. It would be best if they stay in it and you carry them back to where we can protect them."
My face burns from my ineffectual rambling. "Does that make sense?"
"Yes."
I open my mouth to tell him about the other changes they made, like the arousal and the metamorphosis, but then I remember that long once-over he gave me. Some instinct tells me that the information would make him more likely to open the chamber.
I vacillate for a long moment, not liking the idea of withholding information from a woman by extension, but it feels right.
"I will start looking," he tells me with a wide smile.
He starts rapidly reattaching his leather breastplate.
His eagerness lets me know I made the right choice. I just have to hope he shows restraint so I can give whoever he finds more choices than I had. So they can come home safe and unchanged.
A nagging voice points out that all I have is a dingy cave and I haven't even gotten Silver into it. My throat feels tight and my lips tingle.
The weight of this task might crush me under it.
I stand up and back away to give Kuret room. Thivoll's fur has relaxed some, but he stays where he's at. He's still running his hands through his fur even though it looks perfect, the light catching it in a fiery halo.
"Did he agree to help?" he asks me. I nod at him. "There was no doubt in my mind. You had him enthralled."
"What is he saying?" Kuret asks me.
A direct translation would be embarrassing, so I don't bother. "He appreciates your help."
It hurts to transition to Thivoll's language, but I need him to orient me. "Which way is our cave?"
"We aren't telling him that."
"Dammit, Thivoll. Help me out here."
"He can go to a nearby ridgeline or we could simply meet back here. The ridgeline is that way."
I turn back to Kuret. He looks amused again. "Thivoll says there is a ridgeline that direction you could look for us at. Or we could meet back here."
"I know where he means. That is a better place than this." He stands, his face twisting in pain from the movement. "I hope to see you again soon, Ree."
"I hope so, too. Please be careful."
"There is very little honor to be found that way," he tells me.
I pull a face and he smiles. "I will be careful with your women if I find them."
"Thank you."
There isn't anything left to say after that.
Kuret runs a hand slowly down one arm, his patterns flaring behind the stroke. I give him a smile and a wave. Then he disappears into the undergrowth.
I turn to Thivoll, who's body still looks like a cat trying to seem like it doesn't care and failing miserably at it.
Despite his nonchalant bearing, he's still glaring at Kuret like he wants to separate his head from his body. His face clears as soon as he notices me looking.
It pulls a chuckle from me and helps ease some of the tightness fear and guilt keep causing every time I let myself think about how impossible this all seems.