Chapter 7
Rangely, Colorado
Brir
The familiar building’s rough exterior slowly emerged from the darkness as the sun rose. I squinted in the blinding light but couldn’t reach for my goggles; instead, I held onto Artemis tightly. Dune led us confidently past the rotting building.
My Lepot’s sharp talons clicked on the concrete as we crossed the narrow bridge of the abandoned dam. The dam had created a large lake, which was why I had chosen to make my home here. On the other side, a once-thriving town lay in ruins, reclaimed by nature. The dirt roads, now overgrown with plants from both this world and mine, were nearly unrecognizable. A vibrant purple cover blanketed the ground, its delicate flowers in full bloom. Even under the heavy weight of my companion’s footsteps, it soon sprang back to life, concealing our trail from others.
I had brought most of these plants back here through a small rupture that opened just a few miles away. This was the only place on this planet that held so many native plants from my home world. I was surprised they seemed to thrive here, but most did.
I found this place during my first year in this world and spent countless hours digging it out of the side of the mountain. It had become a natural home with materials scavenged from abandoned houses nearby. Even Dune had his room now.
For years, I had poured my heart and soul into these lands, carefully tending to every inch of soil and every blade of grass. It was my sanctuary, a hidden paradise untouched by the outside world. The trees stood tall and majestic, shielding me from prying eyes and keeping my secret safe. The air was heavy with the scent of wildflowers and rich soil, a soothing blend that filled me with a sense of peace. No one knew of this place except for me and a handful of others in Arya’s network, so they could come and get me if they needed to. I reveled in its seclusion.
That was precisely how I wanted it. A feeling of satisfaction washed over me as I gazed around my secluded haven. The less attention drawn to my haven, the better. It helped that most humans had fled this area after the rupture. A few raiders wandered by sometimes, but I kept my distance.
With Artemis cradled unconscious in my arms, his head lolling against my shoulder, I let Dune carry us down the path we both knew well through the dense forest. I could feel the human’s heartbeat against my chest, a faint but persistent thump that kept me moving forward. The terrain was rough. Even as Dune moved more slowly and carefully, his footsteps still made Artemis’s body bounce with each step, causing him to groan in pain.
I murmured a soft apology to the man in my arms, who still hadn’t opened his eyes again. I held him so close that I could feel his breaths against my body. His face was agonizingly tranquil until the pain hit, distorting his beautiful features, the calm before the storm I knew would soon break. Whatever that doctor had been giving him, I bet, had kept his pain at bay while also keeping him sedated. With every groan that slipped past Artemis’s lips, I felt my resolve harden. Because those drugs were starting to work their way out of his system, I knew he was going to be in a lot of pain soon.
We descended further into the belly of the forest, swallowed by its consuming darkness and silence. The sky overhead was obscured by an intertwined canopy of trees and plant life, creating a perpetual twilight beneath. Dune’s gleaming yellow eyes were the only sources of light, casting eerie shadows on our surroundings as we moved forward.
My arms ached from holding on to Artemis’s limp form, but I dared not loosen my grip for fear of causing further harm if he slipped. His breathing was shallow, and despite my many attempts to stop it, blood and black liquid seeped from the scales on his arms that were pressed against my shoulders. His hands were still bound behind my neck, soaking my shirt and hands a dark crimson.
Dune forced our way through the thick, overgrown plants, the soft rustling of leaves, and the occasional brush against our feet with each of Dune’s giant steps. The heavy scent of earth permeated the air, soothing me after the chaotic events of the past few hours. Despite the darkness still blanketing the sky, hints of orange light peeked through the treetops as we reached our destination—my small bunker tucked away under layers of tangled vines and branches. The entrance was cleverly disguised by a woven cover of bright green ferns and moss, providing perfect camouflage from the outside world.
The humans who used to own the land must have started it because the door and a bare room had been dug. Various tools for me to use had been left inside when I found the door and opened it out of curiosity. The heavy steel door with many locks looked well constructed, and the bare steel stairs led to an almost completed room. I had picked up that shovel and knew then that this was our home.
For weeks, I dug and hauled every bucket of dirt to the surface with my own hands to create this bunker.
The earth here was fortuitously easier to cut through than the hard stone of my mountain caves, making the process surprisingly swift. In just a few weeks, I had crafted a rough but sturdy underground structure that led much further underground than the humans had started.
As the months passed, the rough underground structure began to take shape. The ventilation had been the trickiest part, as I wanted a fire pit to cook on. Still, by adding the dirt around the shaft and using the solar panels from the surrounding area, I could turn on the air filtration system outside the bunker entrance, which was easy to understand. Peter had been kind enough to read through the manual for me so that I could get it to work.
This bunker had become my home, where I felt safe and secure. The kitchen and sitting area were spacious even for Dune, who usually dreaded going underground. But he seemed surprisingly at ease in these subterranean surroundings.
The walls of my bunker were lined with shelves filled with supplies and mementos from my past life. A faint, musty smell permeated the air, but it was a small price to pay for solitude and protection in this post-apocalyptic world.
Now, after years of living here, I continued to expand the bunker. Each new room added served a specific purpose, seamlessly blending with the existing ones.
Dune slowed his pace, and I could feel the warmth radiating off Artemis’s body as I held him in my arms. His bright eyes were closed. With careful movements, I dismounted from Dune and cradled Artemis against my chest. As my feet touched the ground, I could feel Artemis’s tail flop limply behind me, no longer wrapped tightly around my wrist. One arm supported his weight under his ass while the other wrapped around his back, holding onto a spike that protruded from his spine—trying not to impale my arm with one. I carried him towards the entrance of our bunker—my bunker, I corrected myself because I couldn’t keep him. I couldn’t call this his home. My main focus was on helping Artemis. That I could do.
The steel door to my bunker was indistinguishable from the forest terrain surrounding it—a mere blip in the face of the ancient mountain. I tugged on an old, twisted vine that served as a handle and camouflage. It pulled open laboriously, groaning in protest at the early morning intrusion.
The air inside was damp and musty, smelling of earth and the drying herbs I knew were hanging from the ceiling. I loved that smell. It was the smell of home.
I couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort in this secluded space. I stepped aside for Dune to go first, and I felt like I had returned to my true home.
Dune ducked his head and slowly thumped down the stairs until he reached the halfway point, a platform I had built to ensure Dune didn’t fall down the stairs. He was much less graceful going down the platformed floor but handled it with little problems. Despite the darkness, he seemed confident in this environment. I smiled, grateful for Nidra’s training that had made Dune a helpful companion in these dark places.
As Dune moved ahead, his sharp claws clicked on the rough stone floor and echoed through the vast underground space. I took a deep breath and made my way downwards. I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my racing heart as I carefully descended the narrow stairs.
Artemis’s eyes fluttered open as we entered the light from the clusters of glowing bioluminescent plant life that thrived here in the dark. The light cast a soft green light across his face as it illuminated our path.
He squirmed uncomfortably in my arms, and I shifted him to a more comfortable position, mindful of his injuries.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” I murmured.
With each step, I could feel the cool dampness of the bunker enveloping me. One step at a time, I descended into the bunker. Artemis let out a soft moan as we descended into the depths of my bunker.
The brick and dirt stairs muffled our steps. There were exactly forty-five steps. It brought us almost twenty feet underground, and the bunker floor was around thirty feet wide, so there was plenty of space while still being safe inside.
I pulled Artemis closer to me, trying to calm his trembling body as we navigated through the dark tunnels. The ceiling was just high enough for us to stand without stooping but low enough to create a sense of being engulfed by the earth. Knowing that nothing could reach us in these depths gave me a sense of security.
Dune was already lounging by the second door as I descended the long staircase. He waited patiently for me to unlock it. His tail swished eagerly as I fumbled with the rusted key and finally opened the heavy steel door, closed it behind us, and slid the bolts into place.
This door led us right into the main living area. I had set up a rudimentary living quarter within one of the expansive rooms, complete with a rough-hewn table, an old but sturdy bed in the room I had carved out for myself, and a fireplace cobbled together from scavenged materials. It wasn’t much like the humans were used to, but it was home now.
I felt the weight of Artemis’s injured body against mine as I walked towards my bed. With gentle movements, I lowered him onto the soft sheets, making sure not to aggravate his wounds any further. As I settled him onto the bed, his tail slipped out of my grasp and drooped heavily, almost lifeless, on the covers.
I pushed past my unease, wanting to make him comfortable. He winced in pain as I touched him, and he weakly grasped my wrist as I tried to pull away. His hands were still trembling and bound.
I looked down at his pale face. With a raspy voice, he begged, “Please… don’t leave.” His eyes fluttered open for a moment, locking onto mine with a desperate plea before closing again as he drifted back into unconsciousness. My heart ached as I watched him struggle to hold on.
I stared at him for a moment longer before I placed my other hand on his wrist and gently removed myself from his feeble grasp. There were things to be done if I wanted to keep him alive. I wanted him to need me, to want me, but I couldn’t have him so I would ensure he was well. I also needed to clean the dirt and other grime off my arms from caring for him. I needed to prepare the bunker for our return.
“Rest now,” I whispered to Artemis, my voice soft and soothing. “I need to take care of a few things, but I won’t be gone long.” I studied the shackles now. They needed a key. I reached under the bed and pulled out my bolt cutters.
Carefully, I slid the blade between his skin and the metal cuffs before cutting through them. Artemis opened his eyes briefly before closing again.
I gently tucked the sheets around him and brushed a stray lock of his hair from his eyes. His breath came in shallow gasps, matching the faint rhythm of his heart. Satisfied he was at least somewhat comfortable, I reluctantly pulled myself away from his bedside.
I placed his hands on the bed beside him and looked at the liquid that coated my fingers. The scaly parts of him looked to be oozing something. I wiped my hand on my ruined clothing, covered in whatever was on Artemis’s skin. I took one more look at him before I turned to leave him to rest. I left the bolt cutters leaning against the wall.
Artemis didn’t stir as I approached the room entrance and pulled the tie for the curtain so he wouldn’t be disturbed. His body lay motionless on the bed. His skin was drained of color against the vibrant black scales covering his arms and legs. The scales on his body seemed almost luminescent in the dark room. Only the faint rise and fall of his chest indicated he was still alive. The silence was only broken by Dune moving around in the next room.
Dune followed me with his eyes as I walked over to the kitchen area. His pointed ears twitched at every little sound I made.
A thick stench clung to my shirt and jacket. They were covered in dirt and grime, so I peeled them off and quickly discarded them into the laundry basket by the door, making a mental note to wash them in the river when I went to fetch water next. The thought of returning to the room where Artemis was recovering filled me with something I didn’t want to examine right now, so I decided to go without a shirt—though escaping the putrid smell still clinging to Artemis’s skin was a bonus. I would need to clean him up soon and see his wounds.
I quickly retreated to the living area and grabbed a tattered dishrag and a jar of clean water from under the sink. I poured a bit into a chipped mug. The smell of bleach filled the room as I added some cleaner before submerging the rag and scrubbing at my stained skin.
I traced my fingers along the raised, luminescent scars that marred my skin. Each one told a story of my betrayal and banishment from my home. I activated the bioluminescence by running a finger down the one on my wrist, revealing the damning word in my native language: “Betrayer.” The memory of my sister’s screams as the word was branded on my skin rocketed through me. The sick feeling returned from the memory of her begging them to stop, how they had beaten her when she refused to stop screaming.
The words signifying my disgrace were a harsh reminder of my past. My heart twisted within me, but I could do nothing about what had happened. I was an outcast, barred from the only home I had ever known. I shook my head, avoiding the painful memories that threatened to surface. It wasn’t right to dwell on the past.
With a resigned sigh, I went down the branched-off hallway to Dune’s room. As I entered, I saw the massive creature approaching me. He had to lower his head to fit through the doorways, but once inside, he would settle comfortably onto the nest of blankets I had prepared for him. It had taken me months to carve out this living space for him in the hard rock of our new planet. He was already making a nest out of blankets, settling in for the night. Our routine never changed, even after all these years in exile.
As I approached Dune’s sleeping area, he let out a low growl and scratched at his bedding. “I’ll be right back,” I reassured him as I removed the saddle and pack from his back, placing them carefully against the wall. Before leaving, I put a hand on the hulking creature’s head and promised to return. I grabbed the radio I used to stay in contact with Arya while investigating further.
I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder as I approached the door. The curtain was drawn, blocking my view of Artemis. He would be fine. He would need the comfort of clean air and a fire. I reassured myself again that he would be fine and quickly walked out.
I yanked the rusty bolts back and pushed open the heavy metal door. The smell of damp earth wafted in, and I quickly shut it behind me to keep out any unwanted critters. I fiddled with the radio at my hip, pulling out the stubborn antenna and cursing at its poor reception. Arya’s voice crackled through the speaker, barely audible over the static as I made my way up the stairs. We tried to maintain communication every few weeks, but my underground bunker made it difficult for her signal to reach me.
I walked to the giant oak tree where the solar panels stood. The radio receiver was tucked under my arm as I climbed the ladder and perched on a low-hanging branch. Switching it to the designated channel, I tapped out the familiar code, signaling to Arya she had an incoming call.
Her voice crackled over the speaker.
“Please tell me that’s you, Brir?” Arya’s voice came out of the speaker, sounding a tad anxious.
“Yes, Arya, it’s me,” I responded when I heard the click of her line ending. I strode over to the control panel that would open the solar panels for the bunker's air filtration system.
With a whine, the panels opened up with a quick twist of the key and a tug on the lever, revealing a tangled mess of wires and circuits. I reached for the tarp that covered them, pulling it off to expose them to the light.
Arya’s voice shook with anger over the receiver. “What the hell took you so long to check in?” she demanded, her words punctuated with heavy breaths. I cringed at the raw, biting edge in her voice.
“Always nice to hear your voice, Arya,” I murmured into the receiver sarcastically, my eyes scanning the mess of wires before me.
“Don’t give me that shit, Brir.” She practically screamed through the receiver. “Where the fuck have you been? Why haven’t you checked in? I sent Theodore to you, and she said your bunker was locked up tight. That it smelled like you hadn’t been there in weeks.”
Momentarily, I felt guilty for not contacting her sooner. “Things have been… complicated,” I muttered into the receiver. I methodically lowered the tarp to the ground with my hands on the pulley, working over the wires carefully, adjusting a few that had become twisted.
“Complicated? How?” she snapped. “You’re not exactly juggling responsibilities out there, Brir.”
“I’m not going to argue with you right now, Arya,” I said, a bit more harshly than I intended.
A long silence followed. I could feel Arya’s disappointment emanating from the receiver. It felt like being stabbed by icicles.
“What happened, Brir?”
I recounted my encounter with human soldiers. With a satisfying click, I unclipped the line and carefully folded it before placing it in the control box. Switching on the controls, I could hear the hum of air systems activating as they began to pump fresh oxygen into our underground bunker.
“So I followed them for a few days,” I told her through the radio, letting go of the button when I was finished.
Her voice was cold and angry as she asked, “Did any of them survive?” I could almost see how she set her jaw and fists clenched. Knowing how much I loathed humans, it didn’t surprise me that she asked the question.
“I didn’t kill a single one, brat,” I scoffed at her accusation and quickly rolled her nickname off my tongue. Arya was much younger than the rest of us, and I remembered how close her species had come to extinction when she was just a child. She had been forced to grow up quickly after losing her people. I admired her strength and resilience, always putting the safety of our world above her desires. As I studied the intricate panel high in the trees, I explained that I overheard the human military discussing a mysterious creature they had brought with them. I wanted to catch a glimpse of it for myself.
The solar panel provided just enough energy for necessities, but the heavy-duty exhaust system allowed us to stay comfortable underground. There was even a functional fireplace that we could cook on. I was lucky that I understood how ventilation worked, living underground. It was a similar setup when I lived in the village.
“What did they have with them?” she asked, her voice tense with suspicion. I strode to the large cap that protected the vent and forcefully yanked it off with a grunt.
“A human chained to the bottom of a cage. Arya, they did something to him. I don’t know how, but his arms and legs are covered in scales. He has claws. Even a tail.” After explaining, I took the cap and tarp over to the trunk I kept below the tree that held the things I needed for the air system.
“Wait, what?” Arya’s voice echoed from the receiver, ripe with disbelief. “A human… with scales?”
“He told me his name is Artemis.” I threaded the large wire ball into the flue. The ball was weighted so it would go down into the deep chute. I started moving the cord back and forth rapidly to clear the flue walls before yanking it up a little at a time and repeating the process each foot. I would need to do the bottom when I returned inside before starting a fire to ensure it wasn’t blocked.
The silence on the other side of the receiver was a tangible entity. I could almost see Arya’s gears shifting, processing the information. “How is that possible?” she finally asked.
“I don’t know,” I confessed, pulling out the wire brush from the flu with a few sharp tugs. A cascade of soot and grime rained down on me. “I’ve brought him back here to the bunker.”
“Is that concern I hear in your voice, Brir? For a human. I never thought I would see the day.” Her tone was mocking, and I knew she was just loving it. I didn’t give a shit about what happened to the human. I bared my teeth at the thought of caring about the pitiful creature in the bunker. I tossed the long-handled brush back in the trunk rather hard as I picked up the receiver again with dirty hands.
“No, it’s not a concern,” I snapped back, my temper flaring at her teasing, but I knew my words were a lie. I wanted him. I knew that. Those blue eyes had drawn me in the very moment I had seen them. I wanted him. “It’s curiosity. Nothing more.” I could practically hear her smirking through the receiver. “You know I don’t give a damn what these humans do to themselves or each other.” though even as the words flew out of my mouth, I knew they were a lie. I did care about what had happened to Artemis.
A low chuckle echoed through the receiver, betraying Arya’s amusement. “Well, even curiosity is a stretch for you, Brir. Careful now. I wouldn’t want you to start developing feelings.” Her words dripped with sarcasm and teasing.
“I am intrigued, not emotional.” I refused to acknowledge the sensation that felt suspiciously like sympathy in my chest. “And you should be more concerned about what this could mean for us,” I retorted harshly, wiping my soot-covered hands on a towel.
Irritation coursed through me as she spoke, and I quickly grabbed the screen cap to prevent debris and animals from entering the flue. I screwed it tightly in place, my temper rising from her words. The surrounding trees usually hid the smoke from our small bunker during the day, but the scent lingered in the air.
“Are you even sure the creature was human?”
I leaned against the gnarled oak tree. “Yes, of course I am,” I responded coldly, shifting my weight on the tree’s rough bark. “I saved him. My hands touched him. The scales, the clawed hands and feet, even the tail. They were a part of him, as much a part of his body as your scales are to you. Plus, he smells human. His face is human.”
Arya’s voice crackled with disbelief as she spoke through the receiver, “And you’re just keeping him there… in your bunker?” Her tone was laced with doubt and growing anger.
“Where else could I take him? It’s not likely he is healthy enough to survive the trip to New Pharia,” I snapped back, feeling a surge of unexpected defensiveness for the creature. His pale face and the fragile way he clung to life haunted me. “He needed help, Arya.”
“What’s wrong with him?” she pressed further, concerned.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, the weight of uncertainty hanging heavy on my words. “He’s weak, disoriented. He flits in and out of consciousness. Pus is oozing out underneath his scales. He smells like rot. Like death.” I took a deep breath, my pulse quickening as I thought about Artemis’s condition.
“Sounds like one of your projects, Brir.” Arya’s voice was laced with resignation.
I snorted, the noise echoing through the dense forest around me. “This is not a project, Arya,” I retorted, irritated. “This is a living being in pain.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, then Arya sighed. “Alright, Brir. What do you need from me?”
Relief washed over me at her implicit offer of help. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Any insight you can provide would be helpful.”
A heavy silence fell between us as she digested my words. “I’ve heard rumors in the past,” she finally said, her voice thoughtful. “Stories of human experiments in an attempt to replicate us, to create a hybrid species, do you think that could be what happened?”
I felt a shiver run down my spine. The notion was horrific, unthinkable. “I suppose it’s possible,” I admitted, my gaze lost in the dark edges of the forest. “But to do such a thing… it’s monstrous.”
“Do you think the military did this to him?” Arya asked me as I approached the tree. I pulled out my short utility knife before shaving some of the bark off the tree. Willow bark would help bring down his fever. I didn’t know if the human medication would work anymore if he had been changed.
“I don’t know, but they were the ones who put him in that cage,” I explained, my voice trembling with anger. “They had him there for days, without food or even a chance to relieve himself. They had a waste pan under the cage, so they didn’t have to open it.” I pocketed several large strips of the bark into my jacket pocket.
“Will he survive?”
“I… I don’t know,” I admitted to her honestly, my gaze focused on the bark I was collecting. The rough texture was a small comfort, a distraction from the uncertainty that gnawed at me. A wave of nausea rolled through me when I thought about Artemis not living. I pushed off the tree to start back to the bunker.
There was an uncomfortable silence on the other end of the line. “Keep me updated, Brir,” Arya said eventually, when she finally spoke again, her voice softer and gentler. “And… be careful.”
“I will,” I promised.
“Stay safe, Brir,” Arya said before signing off. A click signaled the end of our conversation, and I was left alone amid the forest with nothing but the quiet rustling of the leaves and my thoughts again.
I stared at the radio in my hand for a moment longer before tucking it away and returning to the bunker, where my new charge awaited.
???
Dune’s panicked warbling echoed as I stepped through the bunker’s first door and into the dim light.
I quickened my pace, my heart pounding in my chest. My boots rapped against the tunnel’s brick floor, an eerie soundtrack to my escalating worry. As I drew closer, Dune’s panicked cries became more frantic and desperate.
The heavy bunker door creaked open under my hands, revealing Dune’s arched body as he stood over a crumpled figure sprawled out on the rug. His large head nudged the man, trying to get him to stand up. To move. The human had tried to make it to the door.
My eyes widened in horror. The radio clattered out of my hand to the floor.
“What in all the fates do you think you’re doing?” I snapped. My voice came out harsh, but I rushed over to the human.
Dune whined again, his head low as he continued to guard the lifeless body as I pushed him back. My heart thudded against my chest as I crouched down, dread filling my veins.
I placed my fingers against his throat, praying to feel the steady throb of a pulse beneath my fingertips. An eternity passed before I felt it—weak and irregular, but there. Sighing in relief, I brushed my hair away from my face, noticing it was damp with sweat. Artemis’s eyes opened to look up at me.
“Dune, enough,” I commanded, my gaze never leaving the human’s face as I stroked his cheek. His skin was clammy and alarmingly pale beneath my fingers, evidence of the fight his body was waging against whatever affliction had taken hold of him.
Dune stepped back, eyeing me suspiciously, but fell silent. He watched the human with a worried expression, his tail wagged nervously behind him.
“Stupid, impulsive creatures,” I muttered, glaring down at his crumpled form. “Why would you even try to get out of bed?”
“I don’t like the dark,” Artemis groaned, curling in on himself. His skin was an unhealthy shade of gray, and sweat glistened on his forehead. He coughed harshly, a rattling sound that echoed in the confined space.
I scowled down at the human sprawled out on my floor. “And that’s a good enough reason for you to try and kill yourself?”
“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Artemis muttered, a feeble attempt at humor that did little to lighten the mood. His voice was rough and strained with the effort of speaking. But underneath the anger and frustration, there was an undercurrent of fear. He forced a smile. “Something this small wouldn’t kill little old me.”
My scowl deepened, the worry for his well-being gnawing at my insides. “You’re in no condition to be making jokes, Artemis,” I reprimanded. “You could have seriously hurt yourself. What were you thinking?”
“I just wanted to introduce my face to your floor.” He uttered a pained chuckle but winced as he shifted.
I couldn’t help the small huff of amusement that escaped me at his comment despite the gravity of the situation. But Artemis’s pale complexion and labored breathing were stark reminders of his danger.
“You have a strange way of making friends,” I remarked dryly. Leaning over him, I placed a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. The heat radiating from his skin made me grimace in sympathy. “You have a fever,” I stated the obvious. “You’re probably delusional.”
“This is just my personality. Besides, what else do I have at the moment?” His attempt at a smile faltered, his gaze flickering to Dune, watching us with worried eyes. “Is he going to be okay? He looks upset.”
“He’s fine. Just concerned about you.” I carefully scooped him into my arms, his body limp and heavy against mine. He grunted softly as I adjusted my grip and began the short journey towards my bedroom.
His body was too warm, the feverish heat seeping through his thin blanket. His head lolled against my shoulder, his breath coming in shallow gasps that grazed my neck. I could feel every ridge of his spine, every jutting rib beneath my hands, sending a pang of worry through me.
“Why are you helping me?” he panted. I could feel his trembling body and the sweat dripping down his forehead. “I’ll be fine if you just toss me out there.”
I shook my head and wrapped my arm more tightly around him. “I highly doubt that.”
He didn’t reply but smiled weakly and slumped against me. Dune padded beside me, talons clinking on the packed earth. His bright eyes were filled with curiosity and concern. I offered him a small smile to ease his worry, though my heart was pounding with relief that the man hadn’t died on my floor from his stupidity.
The bedroom was dimly lit by the glow of luminous plants hanging from the ceiling, a warm, ambient light that added to the serene atmosphere. I could see just fine, but humans didn’t have eyesight as good as ours. The bed was in a corner, draped with soft blankets and thick furs.
I carried him over to the bed, gently setting him down on the soft mattress. His sunken cheeks were flushed with fever. His eyes closed as a grimace flashed across his face.
“Do not attempt to leave this bed,” I warned him sternly. His eyes flickered open to meet mine, dull with sickness. I could see a glimmer of rebellion still flickering within them.
“I… I’ll try,” he replied weakly. Then his strength seemed to ebb away as he succumbed to exhaustion, his eyes fluttering shut as he slumped against the pillows.
My gaze lingered on his face for a moment more before turning away. I grabbed the matches off the end table and lit the candles that were burned almost down and dotted around the room. I was glad I had gotten more from Gunner. I rarely used them, and we would have to find more in the town nearby if he stayed with me long.
The light from the candles threw craggy shadows around the room. Artemis made an agonized moan as he struggled to sit up.
“Thank you,” Artemis said, smiling at one of the small flames that flickered in the room.
“Stay.” I gently placed my hand on his shoulder, pressing him back into my pillows and holding him there firmly.
“I’m not a dog,” he said weakly with a small smile playing on his lips. His breath was still coming in short pants. “But if you say I’m a good boy, I might bark for you.”
“Calm yourself,” What the hell was a dog anyway? “and stay.” I strode across the room, stopping for a second to remove my boots and set them aside. Once that was done, I made a beeline for the fireplace.
Grabbing a metal bucket, I bent down and began scooping up the remnants of ash and charcoal that had accumulated from the last fire. I attacked the stubborn soot with a heavy steel brush. I could feel Artemis’s intense gaze but refused to meet his eyes as my skin flushed with heat. I focused on clearing this side of the flue so we could have a fire.
My eyes landed on the vent, and I watched as the ribbon I had tied to it fluttered. The air was circulating from the exhaust.
“You must think I’m quite pathetic.” His voice came from the other side of the room, surprisingly steady despite how wounded I knew he was. I turned to look at him, his icy blue gaze burning into mine. I managed to keep my disdainful smirk intact.
“Pathetic?” I echoed, raising a single eyebrow. His blue eyes captured my attention. “No. Foolish? Absolutely.” But the human was right. He was pathetically frail, but that wasn’t his fault. He was very much like a wounded animal. I saw the marks where he had struggled. He had fought back so hard that he ripped out scales around his wrists.
Artemis pushed himself up on an elbow, grimacing with the effort. His skin was pale in the light, and his breath whistled painfully through his clenched teeth. Yet, under the layers of filth and distress, something unbroken in him intrigued me.
“No one has ever called me foolish before,” he admitted in a low voice. His dark eyes looked at me, full of a strange mixture of defiance and curiosity.
“Well, they’ve been missing out,” I retorted, revealing a hint of a smile. It was an uncomfortable feeling, this humor tingling at the edges of my mouth.
He chuckled back at me weakly, and despite his state, the sound made me take a breath as my heart fluttered.
I returned to the fire, adding logs to the hearth and striking a match. The flames began glowing warmly and casting a soft light on my face. The room filled with the scent of burning wood, and warmth started to creep in slowly.
As I stood there, watching the fire dance in the fireplace, I felt his gaze on me again. The intensity in his eyes was unnerving. I had never met anyone who looked at me like that before.
I reached for the jar of homemade salve I had crafted from local plants. The dark glass jar had a robust and soothing scent—a blend of mint and herbs. It had healed my burn a few months ago, so I trusted it to help Artemis’s injury.
I opened the cabinet and grabbed a deep, blue ceramic bowl with white floral designs. Next to it sat a container filled with silver spoons of varying sizes. I chose a small one and used it to scoop out a dollop of thick, brown salve. Then, I reached for a jar of fine wood ash and sprinkled a generous amount over the salve. Using the spoon, I mixed them until the paste was smooth and dark. I would apply this to Artemis’s wounds after I cleaned them.
Sighing, I walked over to the tiny food storage area I had dug out years ago and opened the first water barrel on the floor, and groaned. I hadn’t refilled them. I had intended to do it when I got back.
“Shit,” I said under my breath as I opened the next one, which was also empty. I moved to the fourth crate and found a small amount of water pooled at the bottom. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. Using a large pot, I scooped out the water and brought it to the fireplace. In a corner of the fireplace, there was a rack for cooking. I placed the pot on top of it so that it could heat.
I stoked the fire until it crackled and blazed brightly, casting dancing shadows on the bunker’s walls. I rummaged through my bag and found a small box filled with animal stock cubes that Peter always packed for me when I visited the city. He said they were good for settling an upset stomach. The thought made me smile, knowing how much he worried about me in this foreign world. Elex was lucky to have him as his partner.
Once the water reached a rolling boil, I grabbed a clean mug, carefully scooped up some hot water, and poured it onto two broth cubes, letting them disintegrate. The deep amber liquid transformed into a rich brown broth. The savory aroma made me think of home-cooked meals and cozy nights by the fire. I resisted the urge to take a sip.
In the dim light, I could see Artemis’s injuries—cuts and bruises littered his arms and face. He had curled up in misery, his body wrapped tightly in a blanket. His eyes were shut, but I could tell he was still awake from the tension in his jaw.
Artemis lay on the bed in a fetal position, tail wrapped around his body. His spikes were inches from his face, which was pale and etched with discomfort. I set the cup and bowl on the bedside table.
I gently uncurled his fingers from around the blanket’s edge before pulling it away from his face. The stench of infection hit me as I uncovered Artemis’s body, revealing raw, inflamed scales on his arms and legs. They glistened in the dim light, oozing pus and blood.
His eyelids remained shut. A pained expression flashed across his features as I repositioned his arm. His tail curled reflexively around himself. It was then that I noticed how emaciated he looked up close—his ribs were showing.
Faint white lines crisscrossed his body like a map of torture on his flesh. It was clear that whoever held him captive had put him through unimaginable torment and suffering. My hands clenched in the blanket, my vision going red as I took in the full extent of his wounds.
I shook my head to clear the angry thoughts. I moved over the table and placed a rag in the cooling water. I wrung it between my hands before I returned to the bedside and gently wiped away the dirt on Artemis’s forehead and down his cheek. The shock of the water on his hot skin roused him from his sleep.