Chapter 9
Brir
I clutched onto Artemis with a vice-like grip. Even unconscious, his body was fighting him. Every few minutes, he would jolt and attempt to claw at his chest, neck, face, or wherever he could reach. I waited for what felt like an eternity until his movements finally ceased, allowing me to slide out from under him cautiously.
Looking down at his bleeding chest, I knew I should probably restrain his hands, but after what he had been through, I doubted it would be good for him to wake up tied down to the bed. I also couldn’t allow him to be on his back. He could vomit again, and I didn’t think he would be able to get up. This was safer.
Dune remained faithfully by our side. He laid down on the ground by the wall, keeping himself out of the way and out of reach of Artemis’s tail. His intense gaze was fixated on Artemis with concern and protectiveness. Dune usually hated everyone but me. Even when we were in Pharia City, he would avoid the people, ducking away from the hands that wanted to pet him.
“Watch him, Dune. I’m going to get water.” I walked up to him and pressed my forehead to the top of his skull. Dune rubbed his head against mine, and I sighed in relief. I gave him one last pet and looked back at Artemis.
Artemis lay there, so vulnerable, his chest rising and falling gently. My chest hurt with worry. I had no idea what happened to him, but I vowed to care for him.
I bolted out of the room and grabbed two lidded buckets with shaking hands. My body was trembling with exhaustion, but I could push through this. I picked up the buckets and left the bunker.
I pulled my goggles over my eyes. The sun, high over the mountains, temporarily blinded me. I blinked until I could see again, then sprinted towards the river to finish as fast as possible. I kept my senses alert, straining my ears over the whispering wind for any hint of danger.
I dropped the buckets on the bank. My skin was covered in sticky black ooze, so I vigorously scrubbed my body. I wanted to return to Artemis quickly, but I had to be clean to care for him. It would be no use cleaning him up with dirty hands. When I was clean, I retrieved water, snapped the lids onto the buckets, and rushed back the way I came.
Back in the bunker, I plopped the buckets on the kitchen counter. My freshly cleaned skin was sweaty again, but my instincts pulled me to check on Artemis before I could rest.
Dune was on guard, motionless in my room, his massive head resting heavily on his front paws as if waiting for something sinister to happen. His eyes barely blinked as he watched Artemis.
Artemis hadn’t moved an inch, his chest rising and falling in a calm, rhythmic pattern. My eyes scanned over the raw, bleeding patches where his scales once were. The sight of his bare flesh made my stomach turn with guilt, but there was no time to wallow in regret. There was work to be done.
I sighed in relief, letting my tense muscles relax, if only just the slightest. I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t heard Dune get up, so when he nudged my side with his head, I jumped. He looked at Artemis with concern but didn’t approach the bed where he was lying.
“He’ll be ok, big guy.” I reassured the Lepot, “I just need to clean him up. This was not the way I wanted to do this.”
I grazed my fingers over Artemis’s forehead, peeling away clumps of matted hair caked with dried blood and sweat. Each stroke revealed raw, angry skin beneath. My heart filled with rage at his abusers as I tenderly tried to ease his pain.
With a determined set to my jaw, I marched back into the kitchen and started a fire, breaking my no-fires during the daytime rule. I needed to clean up Artemis and the room and wasn’t about to waste any time. Then, I returned to the putrid bedroom.
I lifted Artemis with steady hands, who moaned weakly in pain. I cradled him to my chest as I walked him out of the room to lay him on the clean blanket. I heard Dune’s clawed feet scrape against the floor and knew he was following me.
Dune lay back down on the other side of Artemis. His big body was closer than I would have liked. Dune nudged Artemis gently with his nose.
“Dune, no.” Dune laid his giant head on his front paws, but his eyes didn’t stop watching as I used the ratty old blanket to mop up all the fluids that covered Artemis’s body. As I rubbed the blanket against his flesh, large patches of scales peeled away from his arms and legs, leaving behind raw-looking skin.
When I scrubbed as much as I could off him, I got up and pulled the water from the fire. Carefully, I picked up the pan and tossed in several cloths.
Next, I took down the medical kit and tucked another blanket under my arm. Even though I had tried to wipe away the worst mess that coated Artemis, I knew that the dirt and grime hid more wounds. Washing him would be the only way to see the full extent of his injuries.
I took a deep breath before I turned on my heel and returned to Artemis’s side. His face was pale, but his cheeks were flushed, and his teeth chattered as if he were cold, but his body radiated heat. Fever must have set in.
Turning Artemis on his side facing me, I pulled out the soiled blanket from under his body and threw it in the corner to burn later. Then, I smoothed out the clean one he could lay on.
I meticulously cleaned him. I cleaned and dressed every wound as soon as it was revealed to keep them from being infected again. His little sighs and gasps of pain tore at me each time I found another spot that brought him discomfort.
The claw marks on his chest were deep. I patiently sewed those wounds closed with a needle from my kit. I brushed a clean, wet rag over them when I was done. They would hold well if Artemis didn’t pick at them.
As I knelt to clean his feet, my eyes widened in shock. I hadn’t gotten a good look at his legs before.
“What the fates?” I heard myself say out loud. The scales that covered his arms to the elbow also covered his legs to the knee, but that wasn’t shocking.
His feet were no longer human; they were large and resembled padded paws with sharp claws. They looked sturdy and robust, capable of supporting his weight and providing a solid grip. Curious, I pressed down on the pads and watched in amazement as the inch-long claws on each of his four toes extended, resembling those of a Rizugea’s paw.
As I examined Artemis’s legs, I couldn’t ignore the striking resemblance to those of Leonovus, a species of Valeti from my world. They had feline-like features with retractable claws. Their limbs were built similarly.
With a gentle touch, I ran my hands along the smooth surface of the elongated, scaled-covered ankles. They looked flexible, making him a formidable predator. With a gentle touch, I rolled his joint between my hands, envisioning the speed and balance his long tail would add to these powerful limbs.
I stopped studying him and finished cleaning and bandaging. When I turned him on his side to clean his back, my jaw clenched with guilt. What was left of the bone spikes that went down Artemis’s back still bled. I rubbed numbing salve into each of them so that they would hurt less.
When I reached his neck, I uncovered the brand of numbers burned into his flesh. “One-one-three-four,” I spoke the numbers out loud, burning them into my memory. “What were they doing with you?” I asked Artemis the question, even though he couldn’t answer.
I stared at the numbers for a long moment, then returned to work. I dared not pry too much into what they could mean, not when Artemis was in such a state. But the promise of answers and revenge ignited a fury in my heart, and I vowed to find out.
Artemis never woke up as I fixed him. By the time I was done, his skin was on fire with fever and damp with cold sweat.
I stripped the now wet and dirty blanket from under him and leaned his body against Dune’s side, propping him up.
I found the human fever reducers on hand, crushed them, and mixed them with a spoonful of water. Carefully, I spooned the mixture into Artemis’s mouth and rubbed his throat to get him to swallow.
Finally, I was sure there was nothing more I could do for Artemis. Grabbing every clean blanket and pillow in the bunker, I made him a nest on the floor next to Dune. I laid him down gently in the middle, placing the softest blanket over him.
Dune crept close and protectively placed his large head over Artemis’s chest.
“You like him, don’t you, boy?” I scratched the top of the giant beast's nose. “Protect him while I go clean the room. Stay here with him.”
I staggered back to my tired feet. Dune lifted one large paw and placed it over Artemis’s legs. I could barely see him from under the giant creature, but I knew Dune would never harm the man. He seemed to have taken an instant liking to Artemis.
Gritting my teeth, I returned to the bed and individually removed the rest of Artemis’s spines from the mattress. They were stained with red blood and black mucus goo. I tossed them into an empty bucket filled with things I needed to burn and heaved the mattress out of the frame to drag it out of the room and to the stairs. The smell made me wrinkle my nose in disgust. The narrow hall trapped me with the mattress. I struggled with it before I finally made it to the top door.
As I dragged the putrid, stained mattress out into the dim sunlight, the stench of decay lingered in my nostrils, suffocating me. The wind whipped furiously at the tattered fabric as if trying to free it from the cursed burden it carried.
When I had walked as far as I dared from the bunker, I tossed the soiled thing onto the ground. I would deal with it after dark when everything else was in order. My tired bones protested as I began the trek back inside with a groan.
Dune lay still, his sheer monstrous bulk casting a foreboding shadow over Artemis’s frail form in the candlelight. He seemed minuscule against Dune’s massive frame.
Dune kept a watchful eye on Artemis as I cleaned until night fell. He got up and went to the door, signaling that the sun had set. I hurried to let him out, not wanting to leave Artemis out of sight for long.
The fire consumed the filth-stained towels and soiled linens, crackling hungrily. As much as I hated destroying anything helpful, there was simply no way to clean those rags thoroughly enough.
I stripped down and took a quick, cold bath in the basin before I tugged on a clean pair of boxer briefs. When Artemis could leave the bunker, we would find another mattress.
Sighing heavily, I collapsed onto the nest next to him, my tired body sinking into the makeshift bed. My shaky fingers brushed against his cheek, feeling the heat emanating from his skin.
When the scars of my bioluminescent threads touched his skin, they glowed a soft blue light. I was still confused about why my body reacted to him this way.
Gritting my teeth against the fatigue, I pushed myself up and reached over to touch Artemis again. The soft blue glow of my fingers flared brighter for a moment before gradually fading away.
His eyes remained closed, deep in sleep.
I had no idea whether or not the injection had calmed his body, though he seemed to be sleeping better. I hoped it wouldn’t harm the man now resting peacefully in the nest I made for him.
Watching Artemis sleep was oddly calming. It reassured me that he was okay for now and still alive. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, the movement hypnotic and soothing.
My fingers itched to touch him again, to feel that strange connection that sparked between us. It was unexplainable, a pull so powerful it was nearly physical.
My eyelids grew heavy, their weight pulling me slowly into sleep’s warm embrace.
???
I knew Dune was back when the bell above the door chimed. I pried my gritty eyes open to look around the room. The fire had died down hours ago from the look of the embers.
I rubbed a hand down my tired face and stumbled to my feet. The cold air met me with an icy kiss as I opened the door, and Dune ambled inside, his amber eyes shimmering in the sunlight. I squinted in the bright sunshine before ushering him in, slamming the door, and basking in the darkness again.
I staggered back to the bunker, moving into the kitchen where a clean bucket of water still sat. I dipped my hand and splashed the cool water against my face.
The sensation brought a semblance of wakefulness, rousing me enough to rebuild the fire.
I dragged my feet back to Artemis, who was still lying in the nest of pillows and blankets. He hadn’t moved from where I had placed him.
Sinking next to him, I laid my hand on a bandage wrapped around Artemis’s forearm to feel the heat coming off of his wounds. The bandage's white color almost glowed under the fire’s light. I let my gaze wander along the length of Artemis’s form—his body was a testament to his strength and perseverance.
I didn’t realize I had dozed off until Dune’s soft growling startled me awake. My head snapped up, and I blinked away my sleepiness while trying to adjust my eyes to the bright light of the fire. I looked back at Dune, who nudged me again. I moaned. I had spent too many days without rest to be functional.
Artemis was still ashen and unmoving. Seeing him so vulnerable stirred something within me—a desire to protect, perhaps even more than that.
I found myself reaching out, my hand hovering over his. The blue glow from before returned, faint but steadily pulsating. It was warm, a comforting heat that spread up my arm. I still wasn’t sure what it meant, but it felt right, like two pieces of coral fitting perfectly together.
I lowered my hand, and our fingers brushed together. The blue light flared at the touch, casting a gentle glow over Artemis’s sleeping form. His eyelashes twitched slightly, and a soft hum escaped his lips. My heart pounded in my chest. I quickly withdrew my hand.
Dune’s amber eyes observed me quietly before he dropped a decent-sized rabbit at my feet. He puttered over to Artemis’s side and gracefully tucked his legs under himself, lying beside him. My eyes drifted back to the dead animal at my feet and then questioningly to Dune.
“Did you bring that back for him, Dune?” I asked, again studying the animal that still lay on the floor. Dune never shared his kills. Picking it up, I tried to hold it back out to Dune, but he just turned his head away.
With a shrug, I carried the kill over to the kitchen and began skinning the animal. I cut the meat from its bones into pieces and set them aside. As I worked, my mind wandered back to Artemis, to that gentle blue glow and what it could all mean. Could we share a connection more profound than just our circumstances? That warm feeling coursed through me again at the thought of another person lighting up my threads.
I shook my head at the thought. It was too soon to make any assumptions. Besides, Artemis was human, and I… was not.
After finishing the prep, I heated a pan over the firepit. Soon, the rich and tempting smell of cooking meat permeated the air. A low growl from Dune told me he approved. I poured clean water into the pan and added my dried vegetables.
Once the food was ready, I piled a generous serving onto a plate, the steam wafting in a mouth-watering scent. Dune watched from his spot by Artemis with perked ears and alert eyes, his tail thumping softly against the floor.
I approached the makeshift bed cautiously, not wanting to disturb Artemis’s sleep. But when I placed the plate of food down beside him, his eyelids fluttered open. He blinked hazily at me for a few long moments before his gaze landed on the food.
His face lit up with surprise and something like relief. He pushed himself up slowly, propping himself on one elbow to look at the plate. Dune inched closer again, nuzzling his large body behind Artemis so that he could rest against him.
“Where did this come from?” Artemis asked, his voice horse and eyes wide as he looked from me to the plate and back again.
“Dune caught it.”
Artemis turned to look at Dune before he reached out and hugged the beast. I was surprised Dune let Artemis show him affection. He just leaned his big head into Artemis’s body, nuzzling him.
“Thank you, Dune,” Artemis murmured weakly, his hand patting the side of his broad head. The animal rumbled in response, a low sound that I had come to identify as a pleasant noise.
I watched the scene unfold, my heart aching with an emotion I couldn’t place. I was treading dangerous territory. I would not develop feelings for a human, I told myself. I swallowed audibly, trying to rein in my emotions.
Observing Artemis’s easy affection towards Dune and, more importantly, Dune’s acceptance of it stirred something warm and tender within me. Something I haven’t felt in ten years.
Not since Calea.
Artemis turned his attention back to the food, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the steaming plate before him. I helped him sit up more so he wouldn’t choke.
With a shaky hand, Artemis reached for the utensils, pausing once to glance at me as if asking for permission. I merely nodded, encouraging him to eat.
His initial bite was slow and unsure, but after a moment’s contemplation, his face relaxed into a satisfied smile. He chewed carefully, swallowed, and looked up at me with bright eyes.
“This is good,” he murmured, a tiny sigh of contentment escaping his lips. The sight of him, so unguarded and free from pain, even for just a moment, made my heart pang in an odd way.
Dune made a low rumble in his throat at Artemis’s praise as if he deserved some of the credit for the food. I chuckled softly at this, reaching over to pat Dune’s head in approval before returning to Artemis.
“You should eat more,” I urged, watching as he picked at the food.
Obediently, Artemis ate. The flow of black liquid that oozed from his body had stopped. Whatever fit he had experienced passed. His fevered, flushed skin was cool for the first time since I rescued him.
Sitting back on my heels, I watched Artemis take another tentative bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction. Dune nuzzled against Artemis now and then, encouraging him to continue eating.
Artemis paused to pat Dune’s head. “You’re a good boy,” he cooed in a voice I knew most humans used with small younglings. His hand that wasn’t holding the spoon was caressing Dune’s front leg between bites of food, patting the giant creature. The words were simple but genuine and heartfelt. In return, Dune’s tail thumped rhythmically on the floor, the low rumbling sound vibrating through the room and bringing an unbidden smile to my face.
As Artemis continued eating, I walked back towards the still-glowing embers of the firepit. I carefully stoked it back to life, watching as the flames danced and licked up into the air with renewed vigor.
I reached for a chunk of wood, tossing it gently into the pit.
“I’m guessing I have you to thank that I’m still alive?”
His voice was barely audible over the crackling fire, but it shivered down my spine. I turned around slowly to look at him. His azure eyes met mine, filled with gratitude and something else I couldn’t quite decipher.
“How much do you remember?” I asked him.
Artemis paused for a while, his gaze still locked onto mine, the spoon in his hand forgotten. His eyes seemed to gloss over as he delved into his memories.
“Everything,” he whispered. “I felt everything. I just couldn’t stop it.” He tore his eyes away from me and back at the plate in his lap.
“That must have been… difficult.” The words seemed insufficient, but it was all I could muster.
Artemis chuckled lightly, a hollow sound that echoed around the quiet room. “That’s one way to put it,” he murmured, staring at the half-eaten food on his plate. His voice was reflective and distant, as though he spoke more to himself than anyone else. “And before you apologize again, don’t. Thank you for saving my life. Again. It feels like I’m racking up a few IOUs.”
“You owe me nothing,” I returned to the fire to stir the coals.
“You don’t have any more of those pain meds, do you?” Artemis asked. “My back is killing me.”
I winced at the memories of cutting off Artemis’s bone spines.
“Of course,” I replied quickly. I made my way to the small wooden cabinet at the corner of the room, pushing aside the discomfort that settled in my stomach. I pulled out a bottle and dumped a few pills into my hand.
The relief in Artemis’s eyes was hard to miss as I approached him with the medicine. His limbs were visibly trembling. I helped him sit up to take the pills, and then he slumped back onto Dune again.
“I’m sorry about that, but I had to keep you on your side.”
Artemis gave me a weak nod, his breath hitching as he tried to adjust. “I… I know,” he managed to say. “I told you not to apologize. Remember?”
His confession came out in a whisper, a stark reminder of the pain he was in. His face turned pale, his lips pressing in a tight line as he fought back the waves of discomfort threatening to swallow him whole.
“I just… didn’t expect it to hurt this much,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The words were laced with raw vulnerability.
Momentarily, I grappled with my thoughts before finding my voice again. “I’m very sorry, Artemis. I honestly did not know how painful it would be, but you were choking. I had to do something.” My gaze dropped to the floor, my jaw tight.
“I know,” he said weakly. “I was dying. I felt it.”
Those words hung heavy in the air, laden with the gravity of what could’ve been. I swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in my throat. We sat silently, punctuated only by Dune’s low rumbles and the crackling fire.
“Thank you,” Artemis murmured finally, his azure gaze softening. “For saving my life.”
I nodded, unable to voice the words bubbling just beneath the surface. “You’re welcome” felt too trite, too simple for such a weighty matter. Instead, I reached forward to squeeze his shoulder gently, an act of reassurance more than anything else.
The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Artemis’s face was a ghostly white under the flickering firelight. A pang of guilt twisted within me. I had saved him, yes, but at the cost of so much pain.
“I know it’s not my place to ask,” Artemis suddenly muttered, startling me out of my thoughts, “but why did you save me?” His gaze didn’t meet mine; instead, he focused on Dune’s dark brown scales.
I was silent for a moment, taken aback by the question. I averted my gaze from Artemis’s, the fire crackling away in the hearth providing a welcome distraction.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I finally answered with a shrug, though my heart pounded loudly in my chest.
Artemis chuckled softly at this. It was a sad sound that did nothing to dispel the heavy atmosphere in the room. “Not everyone would have.”
“You should get some more rest,” I told him, wanting to end our uncomfortable conversation.
Artemis gave a single, shallow nod. “Yes… rest sounds good.” His eyes flickered open and closed, long lashes brushing lightly against pale cheeks.
With a grimace, he attempted to shift himself into a more comfortable position, his body protesting at even the slightest movement.
“Dune,” I said after some time had passed and Artemis’s breathing had evened out. The beast’s ears perked up at his name, amber eyes fixing on me. “Let him rest,” I instructed.
With careful movements, I tackled the difficult task of separating Artemis from Dune’s massive body without waking him. Artemis barely stirred in his sleep. Dune made a soft noise of protest as I moved him away but followed my instructions nonetheless.
“You’re going to be just fine,” My fingers brushed his cheek. Artemis was deep in a peaceful sleep. I flung my body back into the nest, needing to lay next to him for a few more minutes.
My consciousness teetered on the edge of sleep, my pulse synchronizing with Artemis’s slow, steady breathing. There was an odd sense of tranquility in the rhythm.