Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
Awareness came to Ahmya slowly as she woke, and pain came along with it.
She’d been in pain before. Trekking through the unforgiving jungle and swamp to escape a giant, bloodthirsty vrix queen hell-bent on killing Ahmya and her companions had introduced her to all sorts of discomfort and agony.
Nearly getting killed by a moving, carnivorous plant topped the list, and Ahmya still felt echoes of its fiery venom whenever she saw the scars it had left on her body.
This was a different kind of pain.
Her chest felt tight, like there was a great weight upon it, and she couldn’t draw a deep enough breath to fill her lungs. Her throat was raw, and her head throbbed. Underlying that was a dull, deep-seated ache permeating her whole body.
I almost drowned.
How many times would she face death? How many times would she escape it?
Escape it? You were rescued, Ahmya. Every. Single. Time.
In every situation, Rekosh had been there to protect her, to save her. What would have happened if not for him? If he hadn’t been nearby?
“Dead,” she whispered, opening her eyes. “I’d be dead.”
But in direct opposition to the pain—and the dark turn of her thoughts—was the soothing heat surrounding her. Rekosh’s heat. His arms were wrapped around her, and one large palm covered her shoulder. This was where she always felt safe. Every time he carried her, every time he held her, the world wasn’t as scary.
His ridged chest was beneath her cheek, and though his hide was hard, there was a suppleness to it, like leather. She rubbed her face against it and inhaled as deeply as she could manage. His warm, spicy scent flooded her senses.
But it was tainted.
Blood .
Carefully, Ahmya lifted her head, pulled back from Rekosh’s chest, and looked up at him. He was leaning against the rough stone wall, head down, eyes closed, and mandibles limp. His hair had come undone from its usual neat braid. The long, tangled black tresses, threaded with strands of red and white, hung around his face and past his shoulders.
She’d never seen him so disheveled, so ragged. Not in all their time together.
Ahmya lifted a hand toward his face only to pause. Her fingers itched to touch him, to comb through his hair, to rid it of those tangles, but she didn’t want to wake him. She ran her gaze over his body.
Wads of silk clung to the many cuts, scratches, and bite wounds she had treated, and dark bruises covered his black hide, which was splotched with mud and dried blood. Some of the worst bruising was on his left foreleg.
She could only hope he hadn’t broken a bone. The way he’d been favoring it while walking yesterday had been alarming. Seeing him so off-balance, limping, had been as unsettling as it was heartbreaking.
His injuries looked so much worse now that there was light enough to see all of them.
What did you expect? He fought off a whole pack of those things.
And they…they were trying to get to me.
She curled her fingers and withdrew her hand, clutching it against her chest. She’d known he was more hurt than he’d let on. She’d known, and she should’ve pressed him, should’ve forced him to let her tend to all his wounds. To let her comfort and care for him for once.
Vrix did heal quickly, but that was only a tiny comfort for Amhya. Her heart ached at all the suffering that had been inflicted upon him.
But if she’d learned anything since waking up in this alien world, it was that you had to keep moving no matter what. You couldn’t stop and feel bad when you were out in the jungle. You had to act, had to… do .
There was something she could do for him while he rested. A simple task, but an important one, nonetheless.
Ahmya grasped Rekosh’s wrist and carefully lifted his hand off her shoulder, lowering it to rest upon his leg. As she extracted herself from his arms, her eyes flicked toward his face again and again, watching for signs that he was waking. But he slept on.
While she was glad her movement wasn’t disturbing him, it wasn’t normal for him to sleep so deeply. He’d been through war, had survived in the wilds, and had woken, alert and ready to fight, at the slightest disturbances during their flight from Zurvashi. This just proved how exhausted he truly was now.
Extending her legs, she placed her feet on the ground, braced a hand on the rocky wall, and stood. Even with the wall for support, it took much more effort than she’d expected to get herself upright .
She cringed when her feet squished inside her wet boots. That was a sensation Ahmya hadn’t missed during her time in Kaldarak. If not for the protection the thick soles provided, she’d have done away with them altogether.
And really, she should’ve been grateful they were still on her feet. It was a minor miracle that they hadn’t been swept away in the river. Goodness knew they’d come off at every other opportunity during her travels.
But now that she was standing, there was another pressing matter making itself known to her.
Her bladder.
After retrieving the metal knife from the rock she’d set it upon, Ahmya moved to the edge of the rocky overhang and peered out. A light rain misted the jungle beneath an overcast sky. Her skin prickled as a chill breeze drifted past, making her aware that her clothes were still damp.
Leaves and branches swayed, rustled, and creaked, and alien creatures called in the distance.
Unease filled her. She’d lived in the Tangle for months, had witnessed its beauty and its dangers. She’d walked amongst these towering trees under bright, warm sunshine, had camped between shadowed trunks in the dark of night, had huddled in meager shelter through raging storms. She’d endured everything the jungle had thrown at her so far.
But she’d never been out here alone.
This is stupid, Ahmya.
But I…I want to do this. For Rekosh.
She glanced back at him. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t opened his eyes. He was exhausted and hurt.
“I won’t go far,” Ahmya said quietly. “I’ll stay close.”
She tightened her grip on the knife and walked forward.
Ahmya kept her eyes in constant motion, watching for any beasts, for the slightest sign of danger. If she saw anything at all, she wouldn’t hesitate to call for Rekosh and run back to the overhang.
The ground sank beneath her feet as she walked. The mist coated her skin and hair, and she blinked as it beaded on her lashes. The scents of rain, vegetation, and earth were heavy in the air, but the smell of Rekosh’s blood lingered in her memory.
He’s only out here because of me.
That realization sent a shard of guilt straight through her heart, nearly bringing her to a halt. Ahmya let out a shuddering breath as she rubbed her chest.
But it was true. Rekosh had only joined the foraging party because she was going with them. He was always getting hurt because of her.
And right now, she needed to help him.
“He needs food, needs rest, needs strength. I can do this.”
The discomfort in her pelvis increased with each step.
“Well, I can do this after I pee.”
Ahmya came to a stop and searched for a spot to relieve herself where nothing would leap out of the undergrowth and bite her on the ass.
“Because that would be just my luck, wouldn’t it?”
Once she’d emptied her bladder, using some wet leaves to clean herself, she continued on, making sure to keep track of where she was going in relation to their shelter. She hadn’t traveled for long before she spotted a small copse of sahn’hadurii trees—bluevine trees.
Grinning, Ahmya pumped her arms in triumph. “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”
The trees were over eight feet tall, with thick, bulbous trunks reminiscent of pineapples in shape and texture. Long branches sprouted from the top of each trunk, all ending in dangling vines from which clusters of deep blue fruit hung.
She double checked to make sure there were no lurking beasties before jogging closer to the trees. Lifting one of the fruits from the vine, she used the knife to cut the stem. The rind was hard and lumpy, but she knew what was within. Simply thinking about the purple, raspberry flavored, jam-like fruit made her stomach growl.
Ahmya poked her belly. “You have to wait until we bring them back to Rekosh.”
She cut away four more of the fruits, setting them on the ground at her feet. She’d just started on the fifth when she heard rustling behind her. Stilling her hands and her breathing, she turned her head to look over her shoulder as the sound moved closer.
She released the fruit and spun, brandishing her knife before her.
Sitting upon a mossy fallen branch was a small creature, hunched over and eating what appeared to be a large grub in its long-fingered grasp.
Ahmya blinked and tilted her head, lowering her arms slightly.
The plump creature had gray and black fur, a long, fluffy tail, and a narrow face with large, pointed ears and wide eyes. It couldn’t have been much bigger than a raccoon. And…it was cute.
But it was also food. Meat. Something that would benefit Rekosh far more than a bunch of fruit.
Adjusting her grip on the knife, Ahmya crept forward.
The creature paused, glanced at her, and its tail, curled like a squirrel’s, flicked.
She froze.
The creature resumed eating.
Ahmya wasn’t sure if she should be offended or not. “Guess you don’t consider me much of a threat, huh?”
The animal simply stared at her, unconcerned.
“Wow. Okay then. Just you wait until you’re roasting over a fire. ”
Keeping her steps slow, Ahmya closed the distance between her and the creature until only a couple feet remained, and its back was mostly toward her. It had finished eating and was licking its long fingers before running them over its snout like a cat grooming itself.
Ahmya huffed. “Fine. Don’t fear the big bad human that’s going to eat you. Makes it easier for me.”
Clutching the handle of the knife, she raised it, bending her knees in preparation to attack.
But she couldn’t move.
The creature was right there. It was easy prey. It was food.
But she remained immobile.
Think of Rekosh, Ahmya. He needs this. He needs you.
She pressed her lips together, and her body tensed.
And still, she could not do it. Just the thought of plunging a knife into this creature, of making it bleed, made her sick to her stomach.
She’d done it before, when those vicious beasts were attacking her and Rekosh. Why was this so different?
Because this animal posed no threat. It was out here surviving, a small creature in a big jungle…
Like me.
Ahmya lowered her arm as tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t do this. She wasn’t a hunter, wasn’t a survivalist. She was a florist who’d become an intergalactic colonist, and her primary role on Xolea would’ve been to give birth to a new generation. Meant to be nothing more than an incubator.
“Ahmya!”
She started, heart nearly leaping from her chest. The creature’s ears perked, its posture stiffened, and its fur bristled.
Vegetation shook nearby. The little animal darted off into the undergrowth, moving far quicker than she would’ve expected. Her hand trembled around the knife grip. Whatever chance she’d had to procure meat for Rekosh was gone .
Useless. I’m…I’m useless.
Tears spilled down her cheeks, and the knife slipped from her grasp to land dully upon the ground.
“Ahmya,” Rekosh rasped, rushing toward her. The rhythm of his gait was still wrong; he was still favoring that left foreleg.
That only drew more tears out of her.
“I woke, and you were not there.” He stopped before her. His hide glistened with moisture, but the mud and blood from yesterday remained. He captured her face between two large hands and ducked his head close. “You are out alone. Why?”
All eight of his crimson eyes studied her. Though vrix faces were like hard, expressionless masks, their eyes conveyed so, so much. And in his, she saw his panic, his worry, his fear.
For her.
“I…I was trying to get food.” Her throat strained with the effort of holding back everything she felt in that moment. Her despair, her incompetence, her worthlessness. Those emotions wound in her chest, coiling so tight that it was hard to breathe.
“I would have—” His eyes narrowed, and he canted his head. “What is wrong, vi’keishi ?”
Ahmya couldn’t hold back the flood any longer. Her words came out in a sobbing burst. “I wanted to get food for you! I wanted… I wanted to be the one to provide for you.” She waved her hand in the direction the creature had fled. “But I-I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill it. It was right there, and I just stood here and did nothing .”
Her chest burned, and every breath was a struggle, but she couldn’t stop crying. “You’ve done so much for me. So much . And all I’ve ever been is a burden.”
“No. Not a burden.” Rekosh pressed his headcrest to her forehead and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, wrapping his lower arms around her waist and drawing her close. “ Never a burden.”
Closing her eyes, Ahmya flattened her hands on his chest. His hide was warm, his hearts thrummed beneath her palms, and his scent enveloped her.
“I feel like that’s all I’ve been. To everyone. To…to you.” Her voice was small, quivering, and raw when she said, “I play with flowers. What purpose do I serve here?”
A low, unhappy rumble emanated from his chest.
“Ahmya…” Rekosh dropped a hand from her face, placing it over one of hers. “Your heart is…soft.”
Ahmya’s throat tightened as new tears seeped from her closed eyes. The world spun around her. Her breath shook as she again struggled to contain the emotion, to hold back another sob.
He’d just confirmed it. Had just reaffirmed her doubts, and?—
Rekosh lifted his head, caught her chin, and guided her face up to his, his firm grip leaving no room for resistance. Ahmya opened her eyes, blinking away the moisture from her lashes.
There was fire in his crimson gaze, deep and bright, intense and consuming. “I do not have all the words, Ahmya, so you must listen. Listen much good.”
She curled her fingers against his chest and nodded as much as his hold allowed.
“When you are tired, hungry, hurt, it is strength to do for your tribe before yourself. When danger is most big and you have much fear, it is strength to protect others. When death and pain are most easy to give, it is strength to give kindness instead.
“Do you know my words?” Those dexterous fingers caught the tears flowing down her cheeks, wiping them away, before tucking her hair behind her ears. “Soft is not weak. It is a different strength, strength inside. Your strength. And it is needed here. You are needed.”
Ahmya turned her face into his hand, closed her eyes, and drew in a calmer breath. She’d needed so badly to hear those words from him. Though they didn’t silence the whispers of her inadequacy, they helped.
Keeping hold of her hand, he stepped back, leading her along with his hands on her hips. “Come. I am cold in this rain.”
She knew the truth. He wasn’t really cold, he was just cushioning what little of her pride remained. And she couldn’t help loving him for it. “Better get you warmed up then.”
He chittered gently before bending to pick her up.
“The fruit!” Ahmya slipped out of his grasp and ran toward the bluevine fruit she’d piled on the jungle floor. She crouched to gather them on the crook of her arm. “I know it’s not much, but…”
Rekosh scooped her up from behind, coaxing a startled cry from her. He cradled her against his chest, which vibrated with a long, appreciative hum. “ Sahn’hadurii uta . You did much good, vi’keishi .”
Her lips rose in a small smile, and contentment danced in her heart, but both faded too soon. She brushed her fingers over the outer shell of one of the fruits and whispered, “I wish it was more.”
He grunted, held her close, and started walking, plucking up the fallen knife as he passed it.
When they reached their shelter, Rekosh ducked beneath the overhang and set Ahmya on her feet. Her weariness came rushing back tenfold. She felt heavy all over, physically and emotionally, and a chill seemed to have taken permanent residence in her bones.
She stepped back from him to deposit the fruit on the ground, only to notice the bag resting against the stone wall. Ketahn and the vrix had drilled it into Ahmya and the other human survivors—keep your bag and your spear with you always . For Rekosh to have left his bag here when he’d come looking for her…
Frowning, she straightened and met his gaze again .
His mandibles drooped. “You are shaking, Ahmya.”
Ahmya looked down and lifted the hem of her wet top, peeling it away from her belly. “It’s like when we first left the Somnium . When it never seemed to stop raining and I could never get dry and warm.”
Rekosh pinched the fabric of her top with his lower hand, squeezing out a bit of the moisture, which trickled down his fingers. Ahmya found herself staring at his hand. At those long, sharp claws, the slender but powerful fingers, the subtle play of tendons beneath his thick hide. She’d always been fascinated by his hands. So alien, so graceful, so deadly, yet so tender when they touched her.
She didn’t realize he’d slipped his upper arms around her until she felt him untying the knot holding her top in place. The fabric loosened, and the sides dropped.
Ahmya gasped, slapping her hands to her chest to hold the material in place as she looked up at Rekosh with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”
He withdrew his hands, but kept them raised, fingers partly bent as though in uncertainty. “You must dry.”
He was right, and she knew it. Keeping this soaked silk on would only ensure she remained cold and miserable.
But she’d never been fully naked in front of him before. She’d always had a blanket or some sort of covering to shield herself. Even after all these months, Ahmya hadn’t cast aside her modesty—though at this point, she figured it was really just self-consciousness. Modesty wasn’t really a thing in this new world. The vrix had never even heard of such a concept before the humans explained it to them.
She clutched at the silk. “We could build a fire?”
With another low, unhappy hum, he turned his head to glance out of their shelter, where that light rain continued. “Nothing dry to burn, Ahmya.”
“Of course. You’re right.” Ahmya looked down. Though the floor of their little shelter was mostly dry, it was comprised only of dirt, rocks, and thick, green vegetation. “If there was, we…we would have had a fire already.”
He covered her hands with his lower pair. They were warm and gentle as he loosened her grip on the silk. “I will be your fire, Ahmya.”