Chapter 2

Present Day

Kyler

While joy grows in my heart, so does sorrow, as I watch my apprentice and her mate exit the tent and head back to their own, Jodah’s tail wrapped around Sage’s waist. She latches onto his arm and leans in close as they walk side-by-side. My sorrow is not because I wish for her to be my mate. I am happy for her and Jodah. But their mating is a reminder that I have just passed forty cold seasons and still remain alone. I am beginning to resign myself to the fact I most likely always will be.

Instinctively, my gaze searches out bari-colored hair slightly different than my own even knowing its owner is not wandering around the village, but rather has hidden herself in her usual place working on her craft. I shake off the pointless task and return within the tent where I feel most at home.

Thanks to Sage, I have learned a new method of helping our people when they become ill and are unable to breathe while the cold dust falls. But now, it has melted away and signs of the warm season are visible. From the small buds of the flowering nenuphar bush to the blooming burim root that should be ready to be harvested within the next few turns of the sun. Either Sage or I will forage the forest and harvest the root when the time comes. It is something I find soothing so I may be the first to head out. Although being alone within the trees also gives me far too much time to think of things that will never be.

Soon, I have finished taking stock of the remaining inventory of healing remedies and make a mental note of what is low and needs to be replenished. I also need to increase the supply of kanet so I can grind it into its powder form in preparation of the Bohnari’s arrival. While far more technologically advanced than us, our neighbors use one of our plants they say has special healing properties they cannot find on their home planet of Bohna. It is one more thing the end of cold season signals.

I have just straightened the last clay pot when an ear-splitting war cry comes from outside.

I race out of the tent and madness is before me. Smoke fills the sky and the crack of metal against metal echoes all around. My tribe brothers are locked in battle with Njeri warriors. Yelling females scatter and scoop up screaming kits to race away from the fighting. The shefira and her tribe sister, Maeve, spin in circles, their gazes searching as they call out for their other tribe sisters.

Tearing my gaze away from them, I sprint to the nearby weapon stores and rip back the hide flap that covers the entrance. I grab the nearest sword and rush out to help defend my people. A Njeri warrior locks eyes with me and charges. He swings with precision, and I block the strike sending a rattling vibration down my arms. My grip tightens so I do not lose my weapon, and I block a second strike that causes me to stumble. While I frequently spar with the other warriors to keep up my skills, I am a healer first and spend more time with my patients—as Sage calls them—and remedies.

The Njeri sneers with glee at my misstep, but I right myself, and this time it is I who goes on the offensive. All around us, females scream, but I cannot take my focus off my opponent or I will die a swift death. I land a minor blow that draws first blood, but the male across from me only laughs. My jaw tightens and I do not let him get to me. A flash of bari-colored hair appears nearby, and my gaze automatically goes in that direction. My heart leaps and settles that it is not the female whose presence never leaves my mind.

The distraction nearly costs me as a sharp stinging pain runs along my side. I can feel the blood cascading down, but I ignore it and the burning sensation that follows. Once again, I charge and get my own strike in, drawing blood a second time. In the distance, someone roars Zara’s name. Somehow hearing it gives me strength, because I forge another path forward and discover a narrow opening. My sword finds its mark and I ram it into the abdomen of the Njeri. His eyes widen in shock and a pained moan spills from his mouth.

He stumbles this time, only I follow and use my tail to sweep his legs out from beneath him. With the momentum I have gained, I push the sword deeper as he falls to his back, and the tip of my blade runs through him until it exits the other side. Blood the color of the nenuphar flower spreads out beneath him to mar the bari-colored dirt he lies on. However, before I can celebrate, he takes a single desperate swing of his sword and manages to slice across the top of my leg. It gives out and I barely catch myself before I tumble on top of him.

With unmatched speed, I yank my weapon out of his body and stab him through the chest straight into his heart. The Njeri’s body jerks and blood bubbles out of his mouth and slides down the side of his face. His eyes remain locked on mine until the life drains from them and they turn sightlessly toward the sky. Wetness coats my leg coverings, and I stumble backward.

Someone calls my name.

I jerk my head around and my gaze lands on Zander, our shefir. He too is covered in blood. Some of it his own, but most of it appears to be Njeri. Within his arms is a Tavikhi warrior who can barely stand on his own. I run to them, my steps unsteady from my own injury, and slide my shoulder beneath Rojtar’s arm to help hold him up. Together, the shefir and I get our fallen tribe brother to the healer’s tent.

To my relief, Sage, Remi, Eloise, and London—the shefira—are all inside as well. My apprentice is barking out orders as she works on one of the many injured warriors, and her three tribe sisters follow them. Zander and I place Rojtar onto a platform and I get to work on his injuries, which appear grievous. Benham storms inside with his mate, Maeve, at his side. Tears spill from her eyes and she rushes over to her tribe sisters.

“They took Zara,” she cries and throws her arms around London.

I suck in a sharp breath and pause in my task. Rojtar moans and I curse my distraction and return to treating him. Except I cannot tune out the females’ conversation.

“She was at the forge, but she’s gone.” Maeve’s voice rises. “Benham found one of the most recent swords he crafted on the ground not far from the entrance. There was also blood. Human blood.”

“Have all the tents that remain standing been checked?” Zander asks.

Benham steps forward. “Katem is searching still, but one of the elders is sure she saw a human with bari-colored hair being dragged by a Njeri warrior toward the hills.”

“We’re going to find her,” Remi exclaims and turns to the shefir. “I’m going with the rescue party.”

She says it as though there is no question one will take place. Considering she is a fierce warrior whose skill with both sword and staff rival some of the younger males, I am not surprised she is the first to volunteer. Her mate, Zydon, will be right at her side.

“I will go as well.” The words spill from my lips before I realize I have said them.

Silence follows my statement. I glance up again from where I am suturing Rojtar’s wounds closed to find everyone staring at me, but quickly return to my task. Zander, Zydon, and Remi discuss the rescue mission and argue about when to leave. Remi, of course, wants to go this instant, but we need to ready supplies and make sure we are prepared, especially as we will most likely be outnumbered.

By the time the two moons have risen fully in the sky, all three of our platforms are occupied and several beds of furs have been placed around the tent containing more wounded. The dead bodies—Tavikhi, human, and Njeri—have been gathered. Warriors have disposed of our enemies’ and the tribespeople will prepare the life celebration for our fallen members, which number far more than any of us would like, including two mated tribespeople, which means that within the next turn of the sun, their mates will join them in the land of the goddess.

The village is somber. It will take many turns of the sun before dwellings have been repaired or rebuilt. The only people remaining within the healing tent, aside from the injured, are Sage and Jodah, who has remained present to make sure his mate takes care of herself as well as her patients.

With his help, the force that had previously been driving her to not sleep or eat for turns of the sun while treating both him and the Krijese kit brought here by his baba is not as strong. That does not mean she is any less dedicated to treating injured tribespeople, but her reasons for doing so have changed. No longer is she seeking forgiveness for something that occurred back on Earth.

I check on the last of the warriors before taking stock once again of the inventory that, since I last looked over it, has dwindled to almost nothing. Supplies were already on the low side due to the cold season. Sage approaches and comes to a stop on the nearest side of the table from where I stand.

Of all the humans, she is the one who has spent the most time here since she became my apprentice many lunar cycles before the shefira and her three tribe sisters arrived. Eloise’s arrival had been unintentional. The ship she was traveling on had been attacked, and her escape pod crash landed on Tavikh. Deeka guided her to our planet where she was found by Zedam, the youngest brother of the shefir.

“I’m a little surprised you volunteered to go with the rescue team.” Sage straightens an empty jar. Our supplies will need to be replenished as soon as possible.

She and I have become friends in the nine or more lunar cycles since she came to Tavikh, yet I am hesitant to explain my reasoning to her. It is a foolish hope that lives within me. Why would Deeka choose me as the mate for the beautiful female who I have watched from afar since the moment she arrived in the village? I have seen many seasons while there are a greater number of warriors younger than me who are also unmated.

All Zara has to do is touch one of the males. When she does, and his mating marks appear, I will once again be alone.

“We have been dealt a harsh blow, and with the amount of severely wounded warriors, Zydon and the rest of the males, as well as Remi, will need all the able-bodied help they can get. Despite how many Njeri did not survive today, their numbers are still greater than ours.”

“Which is why I’m worried about you going,” Sage says. “You’re our healer, and we have seven injured—possibly dying—tribespeople. My skills aren’t anywhere in comparison to yours. And as selfish as it may be, I’m worried I’m not going to be able to save them all if you leave.”

I place a hand on her arm. “I am proud of the healer you have become. You have accomplished much while you have been here. However, no matter if it is you or I looking after them, every one of these warriors is now in Deeka’s hands. If it is their time to join her, then there is nothing either of us can do. No Tavikhi fears traveling to the land of the goddess. It is where our ancestors await. Do not let the worry get to you. You will do the best you can to keep them here. But in the end, the goddess will decide their fate.”

The humans do not hold the same beliefs as the Tavikhi so I understand it is often hard for them to comprehend our faith in Deeka. The goddess has never forsaken us. She will not do so now. Sage’s gaze remains locked on mine for several beats before she finally gives a shallow nod and walks away to check on one of the injured.

When the rescue party sets out for the Njeri village, I will be with them.