Chapter 10

My chest is almost too tight to take in fresh air as I wait for the airlock to cycle. The whoosh of inside air being sucked out and replaced by outside air buffets my eardrums. As it does the heat rises and a sheen of sweat covers my body.

When the outside door opens one sun is below the horizon and the bigger one is dipping low making it the coolest it is likely to be here in this desert hell. It's pretty, but that's not what takes the little bit of air in my lungs away.

There is a path outlined from the doorway into the desert created by small candles. Gathering my senses I step through the door and it cycles closed. I look all around but no one else is out here except me. Off in the distance to my right is the outline of the graveyard and further past that is the vain attempts at building a wall, but no living person I can see.

"Hello?" I call, my voice trembling.

No answer. I do the only sensible thing I can think of, ignoring the logical part of my brain demanding I run back into the ship and hide, I follow the path of candles.

The shadows thicken as I follow them off the hard fused sand that is around the crashed ship and out onto the loose, rolling dunes. When I crest the first dune once again my breath is taken away. A blanket is spread out on the sand below, laden with food. Standing next to it is Provyd with his head bowed hands clasped in front of himself.

"Kai," he says, motioning to the picnic. "For you."

"Provyd, you…" You what? Shouldn't have? Why? You what exactly Kai? I don't have the words because I don't know what to say or think at this point. It's nice. Too nice. More than I deserve by far. "This is nice."

Lame. Nice. Wow, way to be effusive Kai. Way to make up for being such a bitch before too. Well done. Sheesh.

"You like?" he asks.

"Uh, yeah," I say, slowly walking closer. My feet sink into the loose sand with each step. I stop a few yards away, unsure if I should come closer or not. "Look. I want to say, uhm, I'm sorry Provyd. I am, I should never have yelled at you."

"You sorry?" he asks, shaking his head. "You no do wrong."

"I did," I say, pressure building behind my eyes. "Believe me. You were being nice, I think anyway, and even if not I should not have acted like that."

He is frowning deeply then shakes his head as he sighs heavily.

"Kai hurting?"

"Hurting?" I ask, one hand drifting to my scarred face. "I mean, yeah it always hurts, but that's no excuse."

"Ah, come," he says, motioning me towards the blanket. He walks over to a basket and crouches next to it. He looks over his shoulder and sees I haven't come any closer so he motions again. "Come. Please. Safe. Come."

He returns his attention to the basket. I frown not wanting to go to him like this but then I do too. He doesn't seem to see my scars. Not like everyone else does. Not like I do. He is just… nice. Kind. Caring.

And sexy. That's the real problem. He is making me feel things, awakening those old instincts, those old needs.

And those I don't need or want anymore. No one wants to couple with the monster of the ship, that's for damn sure. No better to keep those buried deep. But something about him pulls me forward, overriding good sense. I pause when I first step onto the blanket and wait.

"Ah!" he exclaims and I can't keep myself from jumping. "It have. Here." He turns around and he has a jar in one hand and one of the epis leaves in the other. He sees me standing with the self-imposed distance between us and smiles. "I come?"

"Uh, okay," I say, torn apart between my desire for him to be close and my instinct to say no, keep your distance.

He holds the leaf out as he approaches and I know what to do now so I take it and slip it between my lips. I chew on it idly as he continues to come closer. He unfastens the jar and a pungent odor that I've smelled before fills the air. It reminds me of the paste that Kyle uses, which means it must be made by the Zmaj.

"I touch?" he asks, gesturing with the jar.

"What is it?" I ask.

He looks from it to me frowning. His mouth works as if he's trying to find or form the words and god help me I can't help but notice his lips. Which makes me immediately wonder what they will taste like. Stop. Just stop Kai.

"Heal," he says, shrugging.

"I have a doctor," I say, unsure if this is the same stuff or what it is at all.

"Yes, yes, human," he says. "This… Tajss. Help."

He's so eager, so insistent that I feel bad denying him. I was already so mean to him that I have no right to keep being that way. I shrug and nod my approval.

Each move he makes is slow and deliberate. I get the idea it would be the same way he would handle a skittish animal. As soon as I think that I chuckle and he stops with his fingers dipped into the jar.

"Nothing," I mutter, but then I chuckle again at the absolute absurdity of all of this. He's made a picnic replete with special medicines for my scars. What is it he thinks he's doing? Who does he think I am? "Sorry."

"Okay? This?" he gestures with his two fingers he just dipped. They have a thick, viscous goop on them. It looks darker than what Kyle has used, so I'm not sure it's the same.

"Uh, sure," I say, pushing past my hesitation.

It looks like a salve, how bad can that be? Once again his hand drifts closer. I watch its approach through the protective curtain of my hair. His other hand comes into view and gently sweeps my hair to one side. I flinch. It's not a conscious action but one bred from long experience. An attempt to brace myself for the reaction that will surely follow. It always has.

But he doesn't react, at least negatively. He leans in a little closer, a slight frown as he purses his lips then he touches my scars for a second time. The goop spreads on cool. He spreads it down the length of the side of my face, dipping his fingers into the jar and scooping out another generous helping and repeating.

The longer the goop is on my face the cooler it grows until that side of my face is numb. Not painfully so, actually it's a relief. For the first time since the accident I'm not constantly aware of the pain and discomfort. It's better than the stuff Kyle has used.

"Beautiful," he whispers but I surely didn't hear that right.

"Huh?"

He straightens, studying the side of my face then nodding with satisfaction. He puts the seal back on the jar and crouches to clean his fingers on the edge of the blanket.

"Beautiful," he says, looking up at me now. "You."

Cursed butterflies dance in my stomach. I don't want them because I can't open myself up to what they would lead to. He's either playing with me or being kind. I assume he's being kind because he's never been anything else so I give him that benefit of the doubt but I do shake my head.

"No," I whisper. "No more."

He frowns so deeply that it pulls his horns down. I like the way his brow furrows. He snorts, making his nostrils flare and I'm pretty sure I see a puff of smoke but that's it. He stands up and makes a sweeping gesture towards the blanket.

"Food?" Before I can say anything my belly answers for me with a loud grumble. His grin widens across his face. "Yes. Yes, good."

He goes back to the basket and pulls out wrapped pieces of leather, arranging them in a semi-circle around himself. Feeling awkward I watch him work for a moment then move to the middle of the blanket and sit cross-legged.

There must be a dozen packages when he finishes removing them all. I have no idea what all they contain but it has to be a lot. I can't believe he made this much effort for me. Is this more than kindness? Even if it is, why is he being so kind to me?

He is giving so much careful attention to the packages. Arranging each one until it is, apparently, just so. When he finishes moving and arranging he looks them all over then gives a self-satisfied nod.

"Good," he says, looking over to me with a big smile. "You, good?"

"Yes," I nod.

And I am. The numbness is pleasing in a strange way. My face feels a lot less stiff than it normally does and the ache is only a memory for the moment. He grumbles as he nods then carefully unwraps the first leather bound package. As he unfolds the corners, slices of what look like fruit lay revealed. The fruit looks similar to an orange, the texture, the skin, and all give it the right look but it"s blue in color. He cups his hands under the leather to pick it up then offers me a piece.

It smells incredible. Pungent, sweet, and yet the odor has a hint of sour to it. I pick a small slice and pop it into my mouth. The flavor is delicious and I make tiny sounds of pleasure as I chew it. The juice of it fills my mouth until all I can do is swallow as fast as possible.

"Mmmm," I say, "good. Very good."

He smiles and nods then opens the next package. He makes his way through one item at a time. It goes from sweet to savory as he works his way around the semi-circle of packages he's laid out. Each one is, truly, delicious.

I don't think I've had a meal that I actually enjoyed since before the crash. Afterward the pain has been too much to enjoy the act of chewing, leaving no attention left for details such as flavor or enjoyment.

We reach the halfway point of his presentation, judging by the packages left when he pauses. He looks from the next package to me then rolls his shoulders.

"Kai," he says. "Question."

"Question?" I ask.

"Yes. Please. How?" he points at his own face on the side where my own is ruined.

My stomach clenches, the beauty of the moment intruded on by the reminder of how ugly I am, but how can I not relay the tale to him? Has he not earned as much?

My legs are tingling with discomfort so I switch up my position before answering. Once I'm settled I sigh, hang my head, and begin.

It's not a long story, though I'm not sure how much of it he understands with his limited grasp of Common. I need to keep my words simple. Hmm.

"Ship crashed," I say pointing up at the sky and then down at the wreckage behind us. He nods understanding, so far so good. "I was an engineer. When crashing, I was… trapped. Accident. Face pressed to hot metal. Now I"m ugly."

The memory is too real. Too heavy. I try not to look at it while relaying the brief version.

"Kai, you beautiful," he says.

I recoil as if he slapped me. It shocks me so much I look up and my hair falls aside to reveal my disfigurement in all its horrible glory. He doesn't react. No recoil. No dawning horror, revulsion, or anything of the like.

Then he does the completely unexpected. He leans in quick, and then his lips are on mine.