Page 18 of Hope Forged
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’sthe 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 theship 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.
The aroma of roasted fish soon had him salivating. She pummeled the roots into flat cakes and laid them on the rocks forming the fire pit. Mashing the fruit was done inside a sealed cylinder with water from a trough at the ship’s entrance, then shaken again. She poured the yellow pulp into a cup and offered it to him.
The wooden cup was warm to the touch despite its rough surface. A sniff of its contents registered as sweet and tart.
“It’s not poison,” she muttered, then sipped from the cylinder. “Padya calls it yummyberry.” She smiled, her gaze distant. “He tried to make wine once and was sick for two days.”
Rising, she removed a stick from the flames with which she’d skewered a fish and held it out to Illan. Behind her, on the flat rock, sat the bits she must have thought were unappetizing. She showed no intention of cooking those. With another stick in hand, she sat opposite him and nibbled on her fish. He tried not to focus on her tearing into the red flesh with her tiny teeth.
His senses were heightened. A deep throb settled in his groin, similar to what Quin felt for Xan. When Illan returned to theCeleeri, he’d have Medic Coll assess him. Perhaps this planet made him unwell?
