Epilogue

Sage

For the nearly six months I've been on Tavikh, I've tried to atone for what I did by working with the Tavikhi healer as his apprentice. And for every day of each one of those months, I wait for the next ship to arrive from Earth with the authorities aboard prepared to take me back so I can be punished. Except no one has. Yet.

I strip the platform of the soiled furs that had provided cushioning beneath the last of one of the warriors injured in an attack against the village over a week ago. Kyler, the healer and my boss, cleared the male to return to return to light training, but with strict orders to come see him again if he experienced any pain.

They'll need to be washed after I put fresh ones down. Thankfully, it isn't often that we need the platforms. Most injuries I help treat are minor. A cut here and there when a sword goes rogue in its wielder's hand and they manage to make contact with another warrior during a training session. They cap the ends for safety, but they've been known to fall off. So, I've learned how to stitch a wound, treat a fever, a headache, and make a poultice.

The worst thing I've seen is someone's insides. And stab wounds. Several that have gone in the front and out the back. The male that just left a few hours ago, nearly died from infection. Kyler was here most of the time, but I managed to offer my services for several hours so he could get some rest, with the promise to come get him if need be.

I place clean furs out and toss the bundled up soiled ones in a basket in the corner. Once I've taken inventory of what medicines and supplies we're running low on, I'll walk down to the river and launder them. The cold season is here which means the river is freezing. It's been a pain in the ass, but the girls and I have had to create a fire pit in the bathing area and heat the water we use to bathe. We can't tolerate getting in the water anymore. Which means we're really only able to clean the important bits. I haven't washed my hair in three days.

What I wouldn't give for a nice, long, hot shower. Hell, I'd take a bathtub. I know the Tavikhi have them. Or at least what passes for one. Zander, the leader of the tribe, brought one into his tent after he mated my friend London. If I had any money, I'd pay her to let me use it. Just once. Of course, that also means I'd have to fill and empty it. It might almost be worth it, though.

I carefully catalog every thing and make a mental note of what Kyler is out of or low on. Later I'll ask one of the warriors to go with me into the nearby forest so I can pick some of the herbs and plants that we use to make tinctures and salves. I grab the basket and toss a few of the green berries everyone uses as a soap on top. Bracing myself for the cold, I step outside and head for the river.

It's not a long trek, but crap it's chilly. At least the sun is shining bright so it takes a bit of the cold nip out of the air. I'm curious what the true winter is going to bring when the snow hits the ground. How us humans are even going to manage is beyond me. According to Talek, it can get as high as his waist, which puts it at right about knee level for London and me. Between the six of us, we're average height. Remi and Eloise are taller while Zara and Maeve are a couple inches shorter than me.

I glance around and observe my surroundings. Ever since Remi spotted a lone Krijese just on the other side of the river a couple weeks ago, we've all been a little twitchy. But also more cautious. I reach the water and kneel down next to it, getting as close as I can without falling in. Small amounts of blood get washed downriver and before long, I've cleaned all the furs as best I can. I wring out the water and hang them over the edge of the basket and head back to the healer's tent.

Kyler's inside when I step through the entrance.

"Greetings, Sage. I wondered if you were at the river."

I raise my arms slightly to lift the basket. "Figured I should get these cleaned and drying in front of the fire since all your patients have been discharged."

"They are your patients as well," he reminds me whenever I exclude myself from this job.

It just doesn't feel right calling them mine, when I barely know what I'm doing half the time and Kyler's the true healer. Plus, guilt keeps me from taking any credit. I set down the basket and grab the handmade drying rack to set up near the fire. After I've got it assembled and in place, I hang each fur over the bars, keeping as much distance between them to give the heat a chance to reach every part.

Loud cries comes from just outside. Kyler and I exchange a glance and he walks out. I can hear him yelling at someone for help and then a few seconds later, the door flap opens and he, along with Benham and another warrior, are carrying an injured Tavikhi inside.

"Oh, god." He looks dead. He's so pale to almost not even be lavender anymore. Black blood covers his chest. Some dried. Some not. A poultice is packed within a massive area, but doing nothing to hide the four jagged slashes that run from one arm pit nearly down to the opposite hip.

"Lay him on the platform," Kyler commands the two warriors.

It wakes me from whatever trance I'm in.I rush to pour some ground up burim root in a small cup and mix it with water. How he's still alive has to be a miracle. Behind me, I can hear Kyler gathering what he's going to need to suture his wounds. What kind of animal did this to him? I hurry back over and gently slide my hand under his head so I can raise it and try to get some of the pain reliever down his throat. This close I recognize him.

"Jodah, I need you to drink this for me, okay?" I stare down at his face and place the cup at his lips.

I'm careful to slowly pour the water in so he doesn't choke, only giving him a small amount at a time. Most of it drips out of the corners of his mouth, but I have to hope that at least some of it is making its way down his throat.

"By the goddess," Kyler rasps out in a harsh whisper.

From somewhere on the other side of the tent is an audible exclamation.I jerk my gaze toward the healer, but his wide eyes are focused on Jodah. Is he dead? I glance down to check that he's still breathing and freeze. Not because of the warrior's wounds, but because of the bright and darkening tattoos—mating marks—that appear on Jodah's ribcage. They're perfectly formed on his uninjured side, but the marks are broken and deformed on the side where the claw marks have sliced through his skin. The swirled lines and designs grow darker on both arms as well.

Kyler lifts his eyes to meet mine. "Another mating."

At first what I'm seeing and hearing doesn't process, but slowly my brain kicks in. After all these months on Tavikh, the goddess the Tavikhi worship has decided that Jodah and I are supposed to be fated mates. Just when he could—probably will—die. Maybe I don't need to worry about the authorities arriving on Tavikh to drag me back to Earth to face my punishment. Because this is my punishment. Giving me a mate, only for him to be taken away from me.

Maybe it's also Deeka that brought me to this village so I could become someone who tries to save lives in order to make up for the one I took.

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