Chapter 5 #2
A sinking kuta was cause enough to comm the scimitar Celeeri.
King Xeus might not take kindly to the loss of the shuttle, but Illan couldn’t worry about that now.
The natural clearing next to the lake should have made him hesitate.
Never had he factored into his calculations stumbling upon quicksand, zero percent possibility of that happening.
From the gurgle of sand as it tried to swallow the kuta to being whipped into the air and trapped within a net, he doubted his instincts had time to warn him.
Thirty-two percent of not being welcomed, well, he’d anticipated that. But this?
As he swung wild, glimpses of a Durn female came into focus. He hadn’t expected to find any sign of life this soon. She’d stood there, unhelpful, stubborn, and yet…
Her garments were pieces stitched together, hugging a body he shouldn’t take note of.
Admiration of physical beauty wasn’t the Durn way.
And yet, it was unavoidable with how much the cloth didn’t cover.
Thick, leather belts hugged her waist, hips, and backside.
She was barefoot, her blue feet striking against the pale sand.
Long, white braids as thick as his fingers fell down her back.
And she limped. No pain crossed her delicate features, which meant an old injury. Her dagger was small, but even from where he swayed, it was clearly not Maloidian steel. No blaster was strapped to her thigh, and no other weapon was sheathed on her person.
Why would she not set him free? What was untrustworthy about him? Or was there something else affecting her decision to keep him trapped?
She couldn’t be alone? Fear paled her white eyes when he’d cut himself free. Then fury had darkened her cheeks. Despite the supposed danger he posed, she closed the distance between them to berate him.
He’d seen such fire from humans but hadn’t expected it from a Durn.
She jerked back. “That beacon was activated over a decade ago.” She frowned. “I’m surprised it’s still working.”
“Your dialect is unusual.”
She shrugged. “Oz taught me all I know.”
“And your name is…”
“Unimportant when you’re leaving.” She glared at him.
“On what ship?” He glowered back despite how much fun he was having. She hadn’t shown any recognition when he’d said ‘kuta.’ Not knowing what that was meant she wasn’t aware he had another ship orbiting the planet.
“Don’t tell me you’re stranded.” She flicked aside her hair, and the combined scents of pure female, water, and sunlight hit him.
His chest tightened. He leaned back. Odd reaction. She did smell of the outdoors and raindrops, but that shouldn’t affect him.
“Why not?” he asked, inching closer to her.
She swept out an arm. “Exploring without backup is foolish. What if the beacon was a trap?”
He nudged the broken net with his boot.
She trembled, curling her fingers into fists like she’d like nothing more than to hit him. He doubted her tiny hands would harm him if she lashed out.
“I didn’t lure you here.” Again, she pointed at the sandpits. “Call your people and leave Vora.”
Ahh, so she has some intelligence. “Is that the planet’s name?
” He gazed at the bright blue sky, the vibrant-colored forests, the dirty silver lake, and the myriad of colors in the flowers around them—the scents exquisite when he’d been breathing recycled air for weeks.
“My archives do not have a name for it.”
“Much information was lost in the Great Nevid. Any Durn would know that.” She huffed. “Even more reason to distrust your intentions.”
“I do not lie, female. It is rude to imply I do.”
She snorted.
Taken aback by her reaction, a surprised bark of laughter escaped him.
She blinked at him, then gazed away. “Let me remind you that you cannot be in the open.”
“Not after you threw away my blaster.” He strolled past her toward the lake’s shore. Why he bothered, he couldn’t say. A port to the Celeeri would gain him another weapon. But he didn’t want anyone to stumble on it and hurt themselves by accident.
With a pat to his chest armor, it parted. He shrugged it off, draping it over a nearby boulder beside which sat strange ribbons of cloth and a fish-filled container.
“What are you doing?” She hurried after him, her eyes wide.
“Is the water safe?”
At his question, she fell silent, scanned the lake, then scowled at him. “Of course it is. You don’t think to find your silly black phaser now, do you? The sun’s about to set.”
He glanced at his pants and boots. Stripping would be ideal, but that would leave his dagger unattended. With a sigh at his impending drenched state, he tapped his O.D.I. in his left wrist.
She gasped, but he didn’t wait for her to pester him with questions. Into the water he dove. In an instant, shivers wracked his body. Still, he didn’t hesitate to wave his forearm across the surface where the blaster had sunk.
There!
He dove under, running his hands along the bottom. Something wire-framed met his fingers, and he snatched them back. He straightened, breaking through the gentle waves to suck in a needed breath. He scanned again, recognizing the rectangular objects as fish traps.
“This is foolish,” she said from shore. “The lake’s floor drops away, and…” She swallowed. Again, fear paled her face.
He studied her. The presence of traps said she ventured into the water despite her fear. She had courage…like Quin.
Down he went, using his feet this time. He nudged something heavy and ducked under. The organic shape of a rock registered. According to his O.D.I., he was close. Patting the silky sand on either side of the rock paid off. Cold metal had him grabbing the blaster and rising.
The yellow light for ‘stun’ glowed. He’d known it would operate after having endured Quin’s memories of a wilanegy attack on Lysara.
The massive creature with blue spikes and a lust for blood charged them into a pond.
They’d stunned it with a blaster that had just been in the water.
Etterians made their weapons near unbreakable.
The Durn female took a step back when he emerged from the water. In her hand was her little dagger; she twirled it between her fingers. He had to assume it was a nervous habit.
“Any chance you will call your people now?”
When he didn’t answer but slipped into his armored vest, she slumped.
“Do you expect me to feed you?” she snapped, hands on hips.
When he didn’t answer again, she raised her gaze to the sky.
“Elorach, why me?” she muttered. “It’s not as if I have my hands full as it is.
Now I have an extra mouth to feed. Where’s the justice in that?
” She glanced at him as she hoisted the fish container with a rope-like handle.
“I should leave him here. After all, he’s not mine to protect. What idiot comes to this place alone?”
She grimaced and cast her gaze southeast. With her shoulders bowed, she dropped her chin to her chest like she bore the weight of this world. Drawing in a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and nudged her head at him. Then stomped off.
“I’ll have to share my ceaza. And don’t think you can attack me. Seba won’t stand for that.”
So, she wasn’t alone? Was Seba a male? Illan clenched his jaw against an unusual pang in his chest. When she revealed nothing more, he trailed her along a worn path, pausing when she set aside the container to pick fruit from a nearby tree with dark orange bark.
A few more steps, then she knelt to pull roots from knee-high bushes.
She dodged whipping leaves the length of his leg, all while grumbling to herself.
As a Durn, he shouldn’t find the sway of her backside fascinating. The tips of her braids brushed her upper thighs and made his fingers itch to test their weight and silkiness. The longer they walked, the more pronounced her limp. She didn’t let on if she suffered.
Around an outcropping of boulders, the downed ship came into view. He sucked in a sharp breath, stunned that she’d survived. A small campsite was at the jagged mouth of the ship.
“Incredible,” he said, following her down the footpath.
“Greetings, Ziamee,” a mechanical voice said when she entered the shadowed confines.
Ziamee? Is that her name?
To the rear of the common were two beds on the floor. One side had some sort of desk with plant samples, stacks of paper, and various off-cuttings of flora on it. The mountain around the ship and beneath it pierced this compartment, taking up the space that had once been parts of the ship.
“Oz, this is Illan.” She glanced at the ceiling. “Watch him.”
“Acknowledged.”
She smirked at Illan, then emptied the fish onto a smooth flat rock set near the fire pit.
In silence, she worked as the sky darkened, changing to the winter shades of red, orange, pink, and blue.
He didn’t explore the ship that acted as a shelter.
Instead, he chose to sit beside the dead fire and watch her.
“Quit doing that,” she snapped, squatting next to him to build a steeple of sticks.
A few smacks of stone on stone triggered a spark. Within minutes, she had a fire blazing. Heat poured off it, making him shiver in his still-damp pants.
“Seba’s partial to ceaza. He’ll come soon enough.” She studied the horizon, her eyes narrowed.
He followed her gaze. The scars of their arrival were still visible—strips where the trees were shorter than the others and hiding the charred or broken branches amid newer growth.
Massive banks of sand where the ship had scored a path formed protective wind barriers but probably channeled the rainfall into the ship.
But if the weather remained like it was, he understood the appeal.
Peace settled upon him, with the fire before him, the wind not chilling him, and the stars popping up on the deep blue sky.