Starkissed (16 page)

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Lanette

Curington

“Then we are not asss disssimilar asss it ssseemed. The Zi alssso enjoy retaliation.

Otherwissse, we would not fight the Cruciansss.”

Leith waited, but he said no more. She quietly worked on her basket. Hours passed, and she finally did finish it. It wasn’t as perfectly round as J’Qhir’s, more egg-shaped really with one end larger than the other. If it didn’t fall apart, it would hold the jerky as well as his. Her next one would be better, and the next one after that even better. Patience and time. She certainly had plenty of time. She’d have to work on her patience.

She stretched and yawned and looked at J’Qhir. He snored softly and she smiled.

Would he be embarrassed to know? Or was snoring a sign of prestige among the Zi?

There was so much about his culture she didn’t know.

She crawled closer to him and when he didn’t stir, crept closer still. She shouldn’t…but she couldn’t help herself. Lightly, she ran her fingertips over the protruding ridge of his browbone. Her touch disturbed him and he shifted in his sleep, mumbling words she couldn’t understand. He might think in Terran Standard, but he obviously still dreamed in Zi.

She sat back on her heels and watched him. Her fingers itched to follow the sharply defined contours of his face, feel the soft leather of his skin. She shouldn’t want him, but she did. How was it possible to desire someone so different?

Sitting here so close to him would not answer her question, but only exacerbate the problem. She crawled to her bed and closed her eyes. They were the only two people on the whole planet. It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Patience and time, she thought again. They certainly had the time. She would definitely have to work on her patience.

”””

Leith waited until the warmest part of the day, the middle of the afternoon, before she climbed the hillside once again to the pool. The afternoon temperature had risen so high she was perspiring by the time she reached her destination. J’Qhir had suggested she wait until he could accompany her to make sure nothing unfavorable happened, but she couldn’t imagine swimming nude while J’Qhir watched. Not that he would actually watch, but he would be near and she would be too aware of him.

Impatiently, she built a small fire in a natural alcove. She undressed and washed every piece of clothing she wore, except her jacket but including her blouse, which she had repaired several days ago. She spread them out over rocks near the fire to dry. Now, she was ready to bathe.

She was a strong swimmer and often swam alone. She wanted to dive right in, but she had no idea how deep the bottom was or what might be in the water. She had visions www.samhainpublishing.com

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of a Nessie-type monster rearing out of the water and gulping her up in one bite.

Shivering, she tossed a few rocks in and watched the water ripple. Nothing else disturbed the surface.

Now or never. She braced herself on the rock wall and lowered herself into the water. Her toes reached an outcropping of rock, and she found it was a natural ledge that ran along most of the side of the pool. Taking a breath, she pushed off and swam the perimeter.

The pool was roughly oval shaped and about the size of a small swimming pool. The warm water felt heavenly on her skin. She scrubbed at her hair and face and wished for soap. Somewhere out there in the vast greenery of this planet was a plant that had soap-like qualities, and she was determined to find it before she died!

Sometimes it was easy to laugh at their situation, but more often than not she wanted to cry in frustration. Now was not the time for tears because she enjoyed the hot water too much. She swam until her arms grew tired then sat on the underwater ledge. She had to give her clothes time to dry before she dressed again. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

She was glad she had talked J’Qhir out of coming. She found the idea of him seeing her unclothed…disturbing. Disturbing in the same way she felt the summer she turned thirteen and suddenly Marq Casijian wasn’t just another one of the guys. He was someone she wanted to kiss. And more, she could now admit with a smile. At that age, for her, kissing seemed the ultimate goal. She never did get to kiss Marq, but a year later Drew Garrison thoroughly taught her how to kiss. Marq and Drew were still friends of hers. She saw Marq occasionally and Drew now worked for McClure Shipping, as one of their best pilots.

So many years later, she now couldn’t imagine anything more serious than kissing Drew while her mind could conjure up all sorts of images of J’Qhir. Because of their situation, she told herself over and over. If Steve had never put them alone on this planet, they would have gone their separate ways and nothing would have ever happened. She knew that for fact, but it didn’t change the explicit dreams she’d had the night before.

She shook her head and emerged from the water. The cooler air made her shiver. She rushed to the alcove, welcoming the heat of the fire. She allowed the water to evaporate from her body and dressed, then spread her hair close to the flames. When her hair was dry, she put out the fire and made her way back down the hillside.

Tomorrow would be J’Qhir’s turn.

The next few days they entered into a set pattern. J’Qhir still needed to stay off his leg so it could heal, so Leith went out foraging for anything that resembled food. The www.samhainpublishing.com

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beast jerky would have to be supplemented with whatever plants, nuts, and berries she could find until winter set in. Then they would have to make the foodstuff last for as long as winter did. They had no idea how long that might be.

Leith set out early in the morning carrying the empty flightpack and returned to the cave around noon. She left whatever she had been able to find with J’Qhir. He spent his time making baskets and drying what she brought in. In the warmth of the afternoon, they took their turns in the pool. The mineral rich water helped his knee. He still limped and sometimes used a crutch, but he proclaimed it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had as long as he didn’t overdo.

After lunch, Leith would head to the pool on her days or spend the afternoon gathering deadfall to stack near the cave. They were lucky that the weather held and although the mornings and evenings were cold, the afternoons were as warm as springtime. They had had no frost as yet.

In the evenings, after another meal of dried beast or soup, they worked on baskets.

With practice and patience, Leith’s efforts did improve, but they still weren’t as good as J’Qhir’s.

One day as Leith returned from her turn in the pool, she turned upstream instead of returning in the direction of the cave. After an hour’s walk and finding nothing new, she had almost decided to go back when a bit of white past a clump of brush caught her eye.

She circled the brush and found a bed of strange looking plants.

The ground was marshy, soaked with water from either the stream or an underground spring, and the plants were thriving in spite of the cold nights. Each was as tall as her waist and bent under the weight of numerous white pods. Several had broken and leaked a white, creamy substance. She pulled out the analyzer and nearly jumped for joy. The substance was edible and high in sucrose. Sugar!

She plucked off one of the pods and broke it open, touching the thick liquid to her tongue. It would be an acquired taste, but one she was willing to work at. It was sweet and that’s all that mattered. Now, if only she could find a chocolate tree.

She didn’t have the flightpack along so she ate her fill then carried a handful back to the cave. J’Qhir hadn’t liked the sweetened coffee she’d given him on the
Catherine
McClure
, but he might like these sugarpods.

When she reached the outer door, she noticed the fire there had nearly gone out.

Before she could frame any thoughts about why J’Qhir hadn’t kept the fire up, a long keening wail echoed from within, then cut off abruptly and a low chanting began. The monotone sounds reassured her. He hadn’t broken into song the other times he had been injured. Some Zi ritual that she probably shouldn’t interrupt, but she was curious.

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She crept toward the inner door, careful not to make a sound. Perhaps she could watch from there and not disturb him. As she neared the door, a blast of heat engulfed her. No wonder they had run low on fuel if he stoked the fire this hot every day while she was gone. He had never complained about being cold. In fact, when she came in for lunch, the fire was very small and he usually had his jacket off.

She stepped inside and felt as if she was entering a furnace. A sheen of sweat covered her almost instantly. The fire was a blazing inferno, flames reaching halfway to the ceiling. She waited while her eyes adjusted. Through the flickering flames, on the other side of the fire, she saw J’Qhir.

His eyes were closed and he knelt, thighs spread wide. He chanted in guttural, earthy tones. His hands clasped over the haft of the knife and raised it up over his head, the blade pointing down and glinting wickedly in the firelight. His voice grew louder as he slowly brought the knife toward himself.

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Curington

“
No!
” she shrieked and ran to him, dropping the sugarpods.

Startled, his eyes flew open and his hands fell. “Leith—”

She snatched the knife from his grasp, flinging it into a darkened corner. The clatter of metal on rock echoed hollowly. He struggled to his feet, lurching awkwardly because of his injured knee. She didn’t offer to help. He had gone to his knees by himself, and he could get himself up again. Tears welled in her eyes. When he stood erect, she doubled up her fist and hit him square in the chest.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“Noooo, Leith!”

She hit him again. “Some stupid arcane suicide ritual?”

“No—”

“Is it that bad, being stuck here with me?” She tried to blink back the tears, but they spilled over and flowed down her cheeks. “How could you leave me here alone?”

He shook his head. “Not sssuicide. It isss sssomething I mussst do…”

“Then, what were you doing?” She wanted to hit him again and again and again. And he would let her, she knew. He would stand there and take it, as he had done that first day. He would let her beat on his chest until she passed out from exhaustion and never lift a finger against her. Knowing that, she wrapped her arms around herself to resist the temptation to hit him one more time.

“The Admisssion of Failure.”

“
Failure?
” she cried out incredulously.

He stiffened at the ridiculing tone in her voice. “I have failed many timesss. I failed to protect you. I failed to ssstop Hancock. I failed to—”

“Where did you get the idea it’s your responsibility to protect me?” She clenched her hands into tighter fists. She desperately wanted to hit him again, to knock some sense into him if nothing else.

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“It isss my duty, the duty of the Warrior.” He looked down at her, his amber eyes glowing from the firelight. “Asss sssoon asss you were threatened in my presssence, you fell under my protection.”

“I’m not Zi!”

“It doesss not matter. Anyone in danger in the presssence of the Warrior isss protected. Or ssshould be. I have done a very poor job of protecting you.”

Leith shook violently. Honor and duty and responsibility were all well and good, but he carried it too far. “Wh-What is this ritual? If you weren’t going to commit suicide, then what were you going to do?”

“The ritual isss to atone. Asss the Warrior, my failuresss affect all of my people. It isss required that I brand myssself ssso that all may know I have failed.”

Leith didn’t want to hit him anymore. She wanted to enfold him in her arms and hold him close. She wanted to take away his pain and ease the anguish from his face. His crest was knotted tightly, and his eyes burned. Not from the firelight as she first thought, but from the turmoil within his soul. She had to handle this delicately. She couldn’t make light of what he perceived as his failures, and she couldn’t scorn what he was driven to do.

Instead of embracing him, she reached out and took his hand. “I don’t understand how you think you have failed. If you failed, then we both failed,” she said quietly.

“It isss my duty—”

“There was nothing you could do to stop Steve. There was nothing either of us could do that wouldn’t have gotten one of us killed on the spot.” She squeezed his hand, and his fingers tightened around hers. “We’re alive. We’re surviving. How can that be a failure?

As long as we stay alive, we’re thwarting Steve’s plans. I consider that a success.”

“I ssshould have sssaved usss,” he whispered hoarsely.

She didn’t know what to tell him. She could say it a thousand times, and he wouldn’t believe her. He would think he should have found a way to stop Steve. She reached for his other hand and held them firmly.

“Nothing I say will make a difference, but you have to promise me you won’t ever do this again.” She couldn’t bear the thought of his tawny-umber skin carved by a blade with his own hand, and the scar it would leave. She couldn’t stand by and allow him to brand himself for something he had no control over. “And you have to promise that you won’t ever do this again over something you think you have failed to do.”

He looked miserable. She could see the indecision in his eyes—the need to do as she asked, to please her, weighing against the compulsion to follow the rules he lived by.

“Promise me.”

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Lanette

Curington

“I can-not.” His voice broke over the words. His honor would not allow him to do it just because she asked.