Page 4 of Hope Forged
Surrounded by unnamed fauna and flora, Ziamee pumped her legs to catch up to Padya’s disappearing shoulders. He navigated the narrow footpath like he’d lived here forever.
A caw made her duck, her heart racing. A weight pressed on her, a sense of timelessness. Sure, she should’ve been focused on her studies, but when survival was critical, she barely got in four hours a day. Padya said she was learning from the environment, but Mudya insisted Ziamee learn as much as she could before they lost Oz, too.
She brushed aside long, yellow fronds. They smacked at her, but she dodged them, giggling as she did so. ‘Wasay’Padya had named it. Vora wasn’t too far from where their home planet had once been—destroyed in the Great Purge—the unknown disease called Nevid the Unseen had forced the Durns’ hand. Such were her bedtime stories of an ancient season when the superiorDurns had existed. They’d carried the knowledge of generations from planet to planet across galaxies. Most of that data was lost now.
Padya said it was on them to forge on, to restart the legacy. They were on their own, more so since no one had responded to their beacon in all these years.
She raised her gaze, finding she was alone on the path. Angling her head didn’t help her ears to catch his familiar tread.
“Padya?” She hurried ahead, her voice cracking. He’d said to assume everything wanted to kill her, so she shouldn’t loiter.
She rounded a green-barked tree that offered a lengthy strip of shade and bumped into Padya’s back. He stood still, unmoving, not once glancing at her.
“Go home,” he whispered, nudging her away with the slowest of movements.
The hair on the back of her neck rose. She peered around him.
Her blood iced. Her breathing stuck in her throat, and all thoughts scattered. Dominating the route to the lake crouched a massive creature, the tips of its ears reaching her collarbone. Two tails swished in agitation, both matching the length of its body. Six paws thumped the ground, and four angry eyes glowed pink, narrowed to slits. A forked tongue flicked past sharp incisors on its upper and lower jaw. Four arrow-shaped ears twitched in all directions. And yet, its soft white fur rippled, tempting her to bury her fingers in it.
It roared, deafening her and sending bolts of adrenaline through her. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her knees locked.
“Ziamee,” Padya hissed.
Fear had her frozen, but his voice quivering with it snapped her out of the daze.
She bolted.
And in an instant realized it was the worst thing she could’ve done. Padya said not to startle creatures they knew so little about.
Its rumbling growl evolved into a heart-piercing wail.
She peeked behind her just as something slammed her to the ground. Hitting it hard, she barely registered the stings from scrapes and bruises. Pain merged into agony as it pummeled her. A whimper slipped free when wet fire gripped her thigh, and the world around her tilted. It had her in its mouth and was shaking her.
She caught glimpses of Padya with his phaser in hand, shifting it back and forth when the creature moved. It was too much, the pain pulsing up her leg. She gritted her teeth and ignored the tears as she twisted to smack it, trying to get it to drop her.
Make it stop.
Don’t hurt it.
She warred with herself, unable to choose what to yell at Padya, nor could she pry her jaw apart to speak.
Spots circled her vision. She struggled to breathe.
Then she was free, landing on the ground with a jarring thump before tumbling down the pathway. Wasay slapped at her in passing. Where she stopped, she stayed. Her mind begged her to sprint to the Haile, to safety. But her body refused to budge as if her muscles had forgotten how to flex and stretch. Her thumping heartbeat slowed to normal, then to a crawl. The scents of rock, plants, and her blood permeated the air. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to climb to her feet.
“Little one?” Padya knelt beside her, bringing with him a great overwhelming relief. “I have you.” When he gathered her into his arms, the sharp shards of sheer burning agony lashed at her again. Her locked jaw would only allow her to whimper. He whispered words of encouragement as he carried her home.
The scenery passed in a blur. Her nose burned. Pain flowed into her head and made her thoughts sluggish. She had a vague memory of an unmoving creature, a phaser burn in its shoulder.
“You…killed it?” she managed when he brought her into the cool confines of their broken ship.
“Oz, what do we do?” Padya raised his chin to the ceiling. Many lights flickered in their last death throes.
“Boil water, clean the wound. A mixture of huib and meric will slow the bleeding and neutralize any contaminants.”
Sprawled across Padya’s desk, atop his sketches and notes, she lay there, not daring to move. The pulsing agony was more bearable in this position. She squeezed her eyes shut when he left the ship, his steps frantic. He bellowed for Mudya, but Ziamee doubted her mother would hear. She’d traveled northeast of the lake, searching for a deep magenta flower.
“Cut off her leggings,” Oz said when Padya returned and began crushing leaves and roots into a pulp.
