by Mel Teshco
But the fire in Genesis’ gaze dulled to embers as he pulled up the waistband of his pants, helped her up and adjusted her dress, before lifting her off his cercanne and placing her onto her feet.
She understood. Her heart fluttered with the knowledge he’d be leaving her, even if for a short time—though she had a feeling the two weeks would seem interminable, especially without the nights to help mark the time.
She curled her toes into the sandy ground, her foot covering keeping her soles blessedly cool. At least she had the ability now to walk around in the garden, learn what she could about the plants.
Genesis retrieved the erfos and took hold of her hand before he walked with her toward her donya. At the shield doorway, he turned her toward him, tucking a hand under her chin and lifting her gaze to his. “You’ll find a little something inside, which I hope will help you pass some time.”
“Oh?”
A smile broke his serious expression. “Save it until I’m gone, hmm.”
Her heart sank at the reminder of his being gone. But she nodded, putting on a brave face. “Okay.”
He bent, touching his mouth to hers. “Until I see you…soon.”
It’d been near impossible leaving behind her family, her home, her planet. But she had to wonder if this temporary separation from her husband was almost as bad. She bit hard into her bottom lip as he handed her the erfos and strode back to his cercanne.
Swinging a leg over the seat, he turned back as though to drink her in one last time. Then spinning his bike around, all too soon there was nothing to show for him being there other than a faint dust cloud in the air and dampness between her thighs.
She absently ran a fingertip along the markings on her throat, feeling an odd sense of loss. Genesis may have marked her but when she saw him again in two weeks would he wish he never had? In two weeks would he know the truth about who she was?
Her hand dropped a little lower, to where the exquisite necklace with its pendant sat nestled in the hollow of her throat. She swallowed. Would she soon see her wedding gift ripped from her person and placed instead around her sister’s neck?
With a deep sigh she spun around and entered the donya, the shields parting.
She carefully placed the erfos on the floor even as she took everything in with a quick glance. A small room. To one side the creamy-brown leaves that were splattered with orange identified a large sylak plant in an earthen-red pot. Beside the plant were two empty bowls similar to coconut husks, some implements for cutting and grinding food, along with five bottles of water. Opposite was a caltronian fur. Placed at the end of the pelt was a large book.
She dropped to her knees on the fur and picked up the heavy book. It wasn’t anything like the volumes found on Earth. She ran her fingers over what appeared to be thinly stretched animal skins, which were joined together with thinly plaited rope. The book was exquisite, with its painstakingly inked plant drawings and its inscribed Carèche language also translated into English.
A book on Carèche flora.
She closed her eyes with a shuddering breath. Genesis was everything she could ever possibly want in a mate. He’d gifted her with something beyond measure. The plant book might just save her sanity, her life, not to mention her foot coverings that allowed her to fend for herself.
One of her hands again lifted almost of its own volition to touch the beautiful gem at her throat. The other reverently flipped through page after page of the book, memorizing the plants that she could eat, some in their raw state but most needing to be cooked under the sylak, to remove any traces of bacteria.
Her brain filled to bursting, she climbed to her feet. No time like the present to gather what she needed to eat. Choosing the bigger bowl of the two and retrieving the erfos on the way out, she walked the twenty or thirty yards to the first row of self-sufficient plants of the huge garden. Little red and gold speckled antlike insects she’d never seen before scurried along the rows upon rows of plants, their little bodies forming an endless marching line toward the mountain backdrop and out of her vision.
Clearly the Carèchians didn’t mind sharing their food with those who needed it.
It took no time at all to pick some berries and tear the leaves from the stems of those plants that were edible. One plant, its leaves a vivid green with red streaks, caused a sudden pang of nostalgia for the green of her Earth. For her family and everything familiar.
Genesis wasn’t around to distract her and take her mind off any homesickness, and right then it hit hard. She stood still for some time, fighting back a wave of misery and self-doubt. Had she done the right thing coming here in place of her sister? Had she done what was best for Aline? Especially now her lies would probably unravel sooner rather than later.
She pushed a hand across her eyes, blinking back tears. It was past time she fixed up the mess she’d created. Past time she told Genesis the truth. Perhaps there was still a chance to fix things, before her lies came crashing down around her, destroying everything.
Drawing in a steadying breath, she peered up at the three suns blazing down. They were much hotter than anything on Earth. Hotter than anything she’d felt since landing on the Carèche planet however many days ago—if only she could mark her time here in days. She swiped her brow, surprised to find it was damp with sweat.
She’d only ever noticed a dry heat on this planet. She frowned as a more urgent worry formed. Would her meager supply of water last her time here? She didn’t want to be reduced to sucking on the sap of the aloe vera type plants and hoping she wouldn’t again lose her vision.
Back in her donya she put her weapon onto the floor before she separated her three varieties of leaves and the small red berries into piles. The berries could be eaten raw and apparently expanded in the gut, making a person much fuller than they really were.
She piled the fresh green leaves into a pile and placed it under the foliage of the sylak. It immediately began to tremble before its leaves shimmered into gold.
She didn’t expect the tantalizing aroma of meat to fill the air, reminding her of the barbecue her dad had occasionally fired up back on Earth to cook whichever animal he’d hunted, usually kangaroo. The leaves popped and splattered in the bowl, cooking in what was apparently their own oily composition.
The sylak’s shimmering died down, but once the plant ceased trembling she carefully withdrew the bowl, sitting cross-legged on the thick pelt before sampling the delicious- smelling food.
Wow. It tasted just like it smelled. Meaty. Tender. Flavorsome.
She stuffed a handful of the dripping soft mass into her mouth, chewing noisily. She guessed that’s why she didn’t at first hear the snuffling sound just outside her donya. But when it finally infiltrated her senses, she almost dropped the bowl onto her lap.
What the hell?
For one long moment she froze, listening to the sound. It wasn’t a caltronian, such a big predator would be making a hell of a lot more ruckus and the bolishta herd would undoubtedly have stampeded in the opposite direction, warning her of its approach.
Her heart rate steadied and her breathing slowed. Putting aside her half-full bowl of cooked salad leaves, she reclaimed her erfos and tiptoed to the hanging shield that was her only door. As it parted, she lifted the weapon to her eye. The barrel glowed green just as she caught sight of an odd, catlike creature with coarse, dappled red and brown fur.
The creature’s ribby and undernourished body made it look much smaller than what it should, but she guessed it’d be about half the size of Bonnie. The cat lifted its head and peered back at her, opening its mouth and hissing fear. As it hobbled backward on three legs, she lowered her erfos and crouched low, placing the weapon beside her.
“Don’t be scared,” she said soothingly, thinking on what her animal-savvy sister would do in this situation. She assessed the pitiful, hungry creature with each of its massive paws easily the size of an Earth sunflower. “You’ve been hurt,” she said aloud, taking in its front paw that was bloodied and m
angled. She cast another shrewd look over its scrawny body. Undoubtedly its injury made it unable to hunt and forage for food.
“You’re looking for something to eat,” she murmured, realizing the cat had smelled the aroma of cooked food. “I don’t have any meat.” She moved onto her knees then reached back, taking hold of her bowl with its mostly uneaten leaves, “But I have something that at least tastes like it.” She placed it just outside the hanging shields, before shuffling back on her knees and waiting for the creature’s next move.
The cat’s pointed ears flicked back and forward as nervous tension radiated from its starved body. Hunger won over fear. It limped forward, biting down on the rim of the bowl and dragging it a couple more yards from her before it wolfed the leaves down as though they were the most succulent chicken breast.
She smiled, relieved she’d helped the creature, at least for a little while. She only hoped she hadn’t just prolonged its suffering.
She turned and grabbed one of the water bottles, before uncapping it and pouring some of the precious liquid into the other bowl. This time she placed the bowl just inside her donya, but stayed near so that the shield door remained partly open.
Scraping up the last leaf, the cat lifted its head and peered intently at the other bowl, its nostrils flared.
“It’s okay, little one,” she murmured encouragingly, “I won’t hurt you and I won’t touch you unless you let me.”
She really needed to take a good look at his wound and treat it with some of the healing plants.
Seemed the catlike creature trusted her enough after filling its belly to also quench its thirst. It slunk forward in a weird three-legged gait, its injured front paw dragging a little in the sand, before it dropped its head and lapped at the water until it had licked the bowl clean.
She shook her head, “Easy does it, I need to stretch out my supplies.”
The sound of bolishtas approaching from the direction of the mountain had her catch her breath and clamber to her feet. Shit. Had Trasean and Auron already found her sister—their supposed intended? Had they learned of her deceit?
She swallowed back fear and lifted her chin a little before she walked outside, only then aware the little cat had escaped, clearly scared off by the intrusion.
It wasn’t the two males she’d imagined. Three of the unattached males rode their bolishtas toward her, but it was Simon following behind at a slow and obviously painful gait, that got all her attention.
“You saved him!” she shouted, clapping her hands over her mouth with joyous wonder at the sight of her mount who’d obeyed her unquestionably.
The first of the three males nodded. “Sheehar. He isn’t yet fully healed, but a mera or two of rest and he’ll be back to normal.”
She nodded, grinning. “Thank you.” She turned to the other two, “All of you. Simon means a lot to me.”
The men’s stern faces broke into smiles at her praise…or for calling the bolishta Simon. Perhaps both. Their eyes crinkled at the corners. “We were glad to assist,” one of the other two acknowledged.
Except she was already running to Simon, checking out his still healing wounds before scratching him between the ears, much to his delight. His lower lip quivered and he snorted, showering her with snotty appreciation.
“Simon, yuk!” she half scolded, before rubbing him harder between the ears as he lowered his head, his lip wobbling uncontrollably. “The natural medicines on this planet are amazing. I really thought you were going to die.”
Scratching his head a little longer before kissing him on top of his muzzle, she watched as he hobbled slowly back to his herd, his tail swishing and ears pointed eagerly forward as each bolishta trotted toward him in greeting.
But all the while she was aware of the alien men in her peripheral. They exchanged awkward glances and stared at her lone donya.
Clearly they knew nothing of her punishment.
She faced them with a sigh and explained, “I’ve been evicted for half a mera for scaling the mountain alone.”
The lead rider pursed his lips with disapproval, whether at her obvious betrayal or Genesis’ decision, she wasn’t sure. He nodded. “Then we shouldn’t be here. Goodbye, Sheehar…and good luck.”
Chapter Ten
Estimated one Earth week later…
Eden sat cross-legged in the opening of her donya, the hanging shield hovering open and causing her to wonder halfheartedly if shields used energy. If so, she was probably depleting hers.
She blew out a breath, fanning her too-hot face. She knew so little of this new world and was keen to learn everything she could about the people, the animals…the plants. And everything in-between.
Though she missed Genesis unbearably and thoughts of her family constantly plagued her, at least she’d used her time well. She’d pored over the plant book Genesis had gifted her with and memorized much of the information. She’d experimented with the edible plants to make different dishes. With the medicinal-only plants she’d concocted healing gels and applied them to Simon and her newest, odd friend, Colin.
The catlike creature climbed out from under her caltronian pelt—the same place she’d discovered him hiding after the unattached males had left. He stretched, his paw a little twisted but as close to healed as she could get it.
“Hi Colin,” she murmured, running a hand over the rough-textured fur of his head and gaining a rumbling growl-like purr in response.
He’d put on weight and looked sleek and halfway healthy. But between her feeding him and sharing out small portions to the sylak, she knew she’d lost quite a bit of her own weight. She could only be grateful her dress had shrunk with her.
Colin butted his head against her nearest hip, wanting her full attention—or just as likely, another meal.
“Okay, okay,” she laughed. “I get the hint.” But before she’d moved to collect the bowl she used for gathering, her attention was caught by the restlessness of the bolishta herd. She’d never seem them so edgy.
A shiver of unease skittered up and down her spine. Were the animals sensing a caltronian? She eyed the weapon beside her, somehow feeling little safety in its presence. But there was no use worrying over what might happen. She’d already learned that the hard way. Besides, the herd was still here so clearly she was safe enough for the moment.
It was time to feed Colin and herself and maybe stockpile some plants for eating and for healing in case a caltronian did make an appearance.
Colin followed her as she made her way to the garden with the erfos slung over a shoulder. His fear of her had soon faded with her feeding him, and he’d stayed in range constantly, never letting her out of his sight and unashamedly basking in her attention.
She was only glad she had a companion to keep her company.
She frowned when she saw him sniff the air suspiciously. There really was something wrong.
No. You’ve been alone too long, you’re letting your imagination run riot.
Still, she found herself looking back at the bolishtas. They were grazing and seemed to have settled down. The sight didn’t fill her with any sense of relief and she hurried to find the plants she wanted to harvest.
She discovered even more of the plants she’d studied in the book and carefully picked and collected different parts of each species for her different requirements, ensuring none of the innumerable antlike critters remained in her pile as she had no way of knowing if they were noxious or not.
She picked a whole heap of the meaty flavored, green and red streaked leaves that Colin and the sylak seemed to most enjoy, and which she’d learned was called nepsh. The berries she picked for herself to help stave off the hunger that had started to gnaw at her belly. And lastly she picked a variety of salad leaves to help vary her diet.
Her gaze slipped to the plant that reminded her of Earth’s aloe vera. She might soon have no choice but to suck on the jellied sap of the fimordh. Sharing with Colin had seen her water run dangerously low. She had maybe two days’
supply left.
With a sigh, she snapped off a stalk. She’d suck on the stalk for a bit and save what water she could. If she had just a little at a time she might not lose her vision.
She swiped her wet brow, feeling unbearably hot. She’d almost gotten used to the steadily rising temperature, which caused strands of her hair to constantly stick to her nape. But damn, the heat was getting beyond oppressive! If she’d known better she would have pleaded for a panka lamora so she would have been cool at least in her donya.
She pivoted as the bolishtas abruptly took off running, a galloping stampede toward the mountain that caused dust to fan upward.
Her eyes widened as her gaze followed the dust into the sky. Holy shit. The herd hadn’t been nervous about a caltronian, they’d sensed an approaching storm.
She straightened, the bowl clutched in her hands as her eyes scanned the roiling, blood-red storm clouds. She swallowed, throat drying. The sight was beyond magnificent, if only she wasn’t scared as hell.
She’d lived through her share of storms on Earth, had long ago learned to be in awe of their power. She’d seen how flash flooding or hail could wipe out whole crops.
She glanced back at the bolishta herd. They had settled, albeit restlessly, on higher ground, but still far below the threat of caltronians who lived on the mountain. Their ears lay flat to their skulls, their flared nostrils a sharp pink even from a distance. Simon stood a little apart from the herd, stamping one of his front hooves and swinging his head, as though in warning.
But it was only when Colin blinked at her with big, alarmed eyes that she hurried toward the donya. Already the wind was picking up, sand swirling around her ankles and sending up choking clouds of dust.
Shit. She hadn’t even realized it rained on this planet, otherwise she would have made the connection between the hot, moist heat and the still, heavy air. She would have read the signs by the way the animals around her had been acting, perceived that the never before seen antlike insects had evidently been foraging before the rains.