by Octavia Kore
The light from her fushori chased away some of the darkness, revealing panels with buttons in varying sizes, but none of them seemed to be working. There was a dim light coming from whatever room was around the second corner at the very end of the hall. She’d almost made it when the sound of a sharp gasp reached her. The female! Her ears shifted forward, and she took off, rounding the corner as fast as she could.
The sheer amount of tech in this one room alone overwhelmed her, and she stood in the large doorway for a moment scanning her surroundings. Aside from the uncomfortable-looking table in the middle, most of the tables and other furniture was broken, pieces of them scattered on the floor among broken glass and the dried remnants of liquids she wasn’t sure she wanted identified. It looked as if there had been a fight, but she supposed it could have happened during the crash. Tubes ran up the walls, and a rather large one stood on its own across the room from her.
Ky let out a sigh of relief when her eyes fell on the human. She sat on the floor just to the right of the door with her knees pressed against her chest. Her eyes were wide, and her body trembled as Ky crouched down next to her, placing a gentle hand on the female’s thigh.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I-It’s still breathing,” the human said, pointing a shaky finger at something across the room.
The choked response sent a chill racing down Ky’s spine, and she followed the direction to a large form sprawled on the floor near the wall. Ky wrapped her tail around the human’s calf, squeezing just a little to reassure her as she leaned forward, trying to inspect the body from a safe distance. Was there movement, or was it a trick of the light?
Goddess above, she couldn’t tell.
“Wait here.”
Ky inched closer, stretching out a long arm so the tips of her fingers hovered above the slits that served as nostrils. To her utter amazement, they flared ever so slightly as warm air caressed her skin. How long had this male been in here? From the little she could see, he was badly wounded, but how had this happened? Had he been attacked by something or someone, and was it still on the ship with them?
Ky moved closer, ignoring the whimpers from the female behind her. The foul scent of decay struck her then, and she resisted the urge to gag at the stench. She was no stranger to death, and she often helped lead the funerary rituals for many within the village, but this smell clung to the interior of her nose and even her mouth. Behind her, the human was covering her ashen face with delicate hands, and Ky took the opportunity to look over the ghastly wounds.
He was one of the tainted offspring of Nem, that much was clear. His mauve colored plating was fractured and covered in his dried lifeblood, and judging by the size of the stain he was surrounded by, this male had bled out a considerable amount. How he was even still alive was a mystery. There was newer growth beneath pieces of the chipped plates, but Ky could see and smell the infection seeping out of the many remaining gashes and punctures along his body.
A small hand gripped her tail as she stood, staying her movements. The strange brown eyes of the alien female met her own when Ky turned to face her.
“Don’t,” the human whispered.
“I must check his wounds.”
“It’s not safe,” she hissed. “Those things are dangerous and it’s not safe to be near them!”
“You are worried about danger now?” Ky raised a brow ridge. “You did not seem so worried for your own safety, or mine, when you ran from me in the forest.”
Her features pinched, the soft fur of her brow coming together as she growled like a little beast, “Look, I didn’t ask for you to follow me out here! I didn’t want anyone to come after me.”
The human was a curious little thing. “No, you did not ask me to follow, but sometimes one does not need to be asked to know providing assistance is the right thing to do.”
A bark left the human’s mouth, and Ky tilted her head in confusion. It sounded similar to laughter, but there was no smile on the female’s lips.
“Did you do it just so you could throw it in my face?”
Ky watched as she shoved the end of her tail away and frowned. Throw it in her face? She’d done nothing of the sort, and she certainly would never intentionally cause someone else harm without reason. As a youngling, Ky once struck Trakseer as retaliation for his persistent teasing, and even then, she had struggled with the guilt of it for many solars.
With her tail tucked close against her leg and her palms facing out, Ky shook her head. “I threw nothing at you.” The human’s mouth opened as if she were going to respond, but she seemed to reconsider and merely glared up at her instead. “The male requires urgent attention and is not a threat.”
“For now.”
“He is unconscious and his wounds have become infected.”
“For all we know, this is an act.” Brown eyes cut to the body behind Ky. “He might attack you the moment you touch him.”
There was a long stretch of silence between them as Ky watched the fear and uncertainty flicker across her face. When she allowed herself to open up, just a little, she could feel those emotions like a barrier around her, lashing out against the walls Ky had erected around herself long ago. This female was hurting and that pain called out to something inside of her.
Dropping down onto her knees before the human, Ky let her face relax into a smile and softened the glow of her fushori. She reached out slowly, pressing her fingers beneath the female’s chin and tipping her face up so that they were looking directly at one another.
Like Amanda’s, this human’s face was strange to her, with the protruding nose, the lines of fur on her brows, and the odd multicolored eyes that roamed to every corner. There was a beauty to these alien features that pulled Ky in, causing a sensation within the pit of her belly, a clawing, that she had never felt before.
“Your concern for my safety is truly appreciated, but this is my duty. To neglect it would shame me.” Longing flooded Ky, rushing through her like a swollen river after hard rains. She tucked a few wild strands of soft golden hair behind a rounded ear, blinking curiously when the other female shuddered and turned her face away.
Just as well, Ky thought as she retracted her hand, closing her mind back off and bringing herself to her full height. No time for distractions right now. What to do about this one… she wondered as she moved to his side.
Although the human had warned her that he wasn’t safe, he wasn’t all that different from the males within the village, and as such, she felt this was nothing she hadn’t dealt with before.
Years of experience in healing and caring for the wounded guided her as she assessed the extent of his infection, her hands hovering over him as she tried to get a sense for the extent of the damage without touching him with her unwashed hands. There was no running water in this room, or at least nothing she recognized as a faucet, nor did she have any of her usual tools to assist her.
During her time within the dome, Kythea learned many new and wonderful ways to heal using the advanced medications of the Venium, but she very much doubted the tainted ones kept such things just lying around.
Even if she did manage to find a supply, she wasn’t completely sure she knew enough to make the right selection. Being back on the surface of Venora gave her an advantage, though. Here, within the forest of her home, Ky knew how to use just about everything, and right now, all she needed was the saku leaf.
“I need to find a leaf that will help him heal. Stay inside this ship and I will return as quickly as I can.”
“Wait!” Frantic hands grasped at Ky’s skirt as she moved through the doorway. “Y-You said it was dangerous out there.”
Emotion flashed on the human’s face as her eyes darted to the darkened hallway. Even after her time with Amanda, Ky still wasn’t completely fluent at reading human facial expressions, but everything about this female radiated fear.
“I did.” Ky nodded. “But Venora is my home. I will be but a moment.”
The hu
man’s mouth opened as if she intended to respond, but it closed just as quickly and she inclined her head.
“Can you swear to me that you will remain inside the ship until I return, female?”
“Esme,” she whispered, loosening her grip on Ky’s skirt, but not actually letting go. “I prefer to be called Esme.”
“Esme,” Ky spoke it carefully, letting it roll over her tongue. “I am Kythea, but you may call me Ky if you wish.”
Esme pressed her lips together as she looked back at the injured male. “You promise to be fast?” When Ky nodded, the little human released the material and tucked her hand into her lap. “Okay, then I swear I’ll stay inside the ship. For now.”
Not wanting to risk Esme changing her mind, Kythea rushed back down the dark, twisting halls of the ship until she reached the outer door. It slid open easily enough, and she glanced up, watching the clouds roil above them through the gaps in the canopy. The rain was heavier now, but Ky gritted her teeth and stepped out into the storm, using her arms to shield her eyes as she scanned the forest.
The rich blue color of the saku leaves made them incredibly easy to spot among the reds, oranges, and black of the other plant life. They grew on slender shrubs nestled in the shade of the large twisted trees, most of them just within the circle of the brittle and colorful fosalli plants. Ky plucked a few leaves from each of the shrubs growing nearby, making sure to leave enough to keep it alive.
Many times as a youngling, she and her mitera had ventured out into the garden or the woods just outside the gates to gather these. Her mitera had once been a respected priestess, and although the elders forbade her from performing her official duties after she took Gulzar in, the people of their tribe still sought out her healing abilities.
And when Gulzar returned from his education with the elders, Mitera had used the saku leaves to keep his wounds clean and free of infection. The memory of those gashes and the terrible pain her brother must have been in caused her chest to tighten uncomfortably.
Ky had been a youngling herself back then, but that knowledge did nothing to stop the wave of guilt that washed over her anytime she thought of his suffering. It should never have been allowed to happen, and as much as she and Gulzar loved her mitera and her sire, it was something Kythea was having a hard time forgiving.
She had tried to interfere once, to keep her brother from being punished for something he’d never actually done, but the fear, worry, and anger in his eyes had rooted her to the ground. It wasn’t fear for himself, but for her, and he’d made her swear afterward that she would never do it again.
Tucking the leaves into the woven belt that held her skirts together, Ky rinsed her hands in rainwater that pooled inside a natural basin that had formed on the top of a boulder and returned to the ship.
It was just as dark and foreboding as the first time she’d stepped inside. The quiet within the space was unsettling and put her on edge as she felt her way through the halls, praying to Una that Esme hadn’t decided to run after all.
When the light from the room where the male had fallen came into view, Ky picked up her pace, trying her best to tamp down the fear that the human female may not be there. The wind outside was picking up, a sure sign that the storm wasn’t going to be dissipating any time soon and that she’d likely made it in just in time.
Ky’s eyes swept the room as she entered, and what she found brought her to an abrupt halt. “What are you doing?”
Esme met her eyes, and her grip on the long piece of black metal she held pointed at the unconscious male tightened. It looked as if the little human was prepared to deliver a death blow. Ky knew many in the dome believed the humans to be soft and defenseless, but the fire and determination in this female’s eyes told her that assessment was unfounded.
“Just a precaution,” she murmured, lowering the improvised weapon so it rested against her leg. A pink tongue shot out to wet her lips, and Ky’s eyes tracked it until it disappeared. “I wanted to be ready in case he woke up while you were gone.”
“What did you expect him to do in his condition, Esme?”
When the human said nothing, Ky allowed her carefully constructed walls to drop just a little, reaching out to gently probe the emotions surrounding her. Esme’s fear was nearly a physical thing, filling up the floor and pressing in against her. It was strong, more powerful than most beings normally gave off.
The only time she’d encountered emotions of this magnitude was when she was around Gulzar, who also shared her rare gift. Kythea wondered if this female, if Esme, might also possess such a gift.
The human lifted one of her delicate shoulders before letting it drop. “I… I don’t know.” Her voice wobbled as she stumbled back. The metal slipped from her hand, and she winced as the loud clang echoed through the room.
Drawing the stale air of the ship into her lungs, Ky reached out, pulling the fear all around them into her own body and sending out a calming pulse of energy. There was a noticeable change in Esme’s body as she absorbed it, her muscles relaxing as the rise and fall of her chest slowed. Even the shadows in her eyes seemed to clear. It wasn’t often that Kythea did this for another since it took so much out of her, but this felt right—necessary even.
When the fear in the air waned, Ky closed herself off, moving toward the male. Warm air from his parted lips whispered over her palm as she hovered over his face, making sure he was still with them. The rise and fall of his chest were so slight that she could barely see it, but he was still holding on, still clinging to life.
Ky pulled the leaves from her belt, rolling two of them together before placing them in her mouth. She ground them between her teeth until the larger bitter chunks dissipated then spit the thick blue paste into her palm.
“Eww.” Esme’s nose scrunched up. “What are you doing?”
“This will help rid him of the infection,” Ky explained, dipping her fingers into the saku paste before smearing it into the largest wound.
“Oh… no, seriously?”
“What?”
“There are so many germs in a person’s mouth.” The female looked on as she worked, her brows furrowed and arms crossed over her chest.
“Without any of my tools, this is the most effective way to create the saku paste I need.” Ky wiped the paste on his chest, spreading it with exaggerated movements while staring at Esme. She moved to the mangled eye, dabbing the paste onto the broken plating there. Some parts had already scarred over, but the pus around the outside told her there was still something festering beneath it all.
“It’s not very sanitary,” Esme said.
Humans were curious creatures. “My people have been doing this, using this method and others like it, for more generations than I can count.” Esme knew nothing about her people or their techniques, so why was Ky letting the things she said affect her so much? Ky was a priestess, a healer appointed by Una herself. No one had ever questioned her ability to make decisions.
Her bare fingers brushed over the side of the male’s face, and a splash of red along the mauve plate near his cheek caught her eye. Ky froze, and her breath stuttered out of her lungs as she stared down at the shimmering lights.
This was a moment she’d been waiting her whole life for, one she’d become increasingly concerned would never come. A happy mating, one like her mitera and sire shared, was a dream Ky had had for as long as she could remember.
Looking down at the broken male barely clinging to life, Ky felt a pang of sadness. She’d found her mate, but was this more of a nightmare than a dream come true?
Esme shifted as if realizing something was happening, but Ky quickly shook off her shock. She ground up more of the leaves, spreading the paste liberally, making sure to cover all of the infected areas. Using her claws, Ky shredded the hem of her skirt into strips, using them to wrap the male’s torso where the worst of the wounds were.
When she was finished, Kythea sat back on her heels, staring at her mate’s swollen eye and cracked plates
. She trailed her fingers over his chest, allowing herself a moment of wonder as she watched the red lights that shimmered in her wake.
My mate.
Chapter 3
Esme
As the storm continued to rage on outside, Esme eyed the alien female kneeling on the floor beside the injured Grutex. She wasn’t sure what could have done that much damage to one of the massive aliens, but she hoped like hell that it wasn’t still on the ship with them. A massive thunderclap overhead rattled the walls of the ship, sending tiny vibrations up through the soles of her suit-covered feet. The female didn’t even seem to notice.
Kythea, that’s what she’d said her name was. Ky. It sounded so familiar. More familiar than she was comfortable with when it came to aliens, but there was something about this one that made her feel like they knew one another, that begged for her attention. Ky’s presence made her feel at ease, even with one of the Grutex bastards laying on the floor between them.
Still, she needed to keep her guard up. She was well aware of what those lights dancing across the male’s plates meant, and it made her stomach sour. The Grutex was Ky’s mate. Before the discovery, Esme might have believed the other female would have defended her against the Grutex, but the moment he lit up beneath her fingers, she knew she could no longer count on her.
They’d been sitting in silence for some time, watching the faint rise and fall of the male’s chest. Esme’s eyes wandered to Ky, following the swirling pattern of her white skin up to her face. Like Brin, Ky’s nose was almost nonexistent, marked only by slits that served as nostrils. Her eyes were the most beautiful and startling aqua, and without the normal human structures like a pupil or iris, they looked like glowing orbs of light set into her slender face.
Esme felt, rather than saw, Ky’s gaze fall on her, and she looked away, embarrassed that she’d been caught gawking so shamelessly. She shifted, wincing as her change in position forced her to acknowledge her full bladder.