by Trisha Telep
“Flying faster,” she said.
Visions of free-falling to his death through a cloudless blue sky invaded his mind. His stomach clenched and he shook his head. “We’ll need the rover to bring Linse back here.”
She hesitated for a moment and then clambered onto the flat-bed cargo area. Holding the roll bar, she pointed to a trail that sloped steadily upward into the mountains. “That way.”
The rover lurched forward and bounced over the construction site’s uneven turf.
It was foolish to head into the forest with dusk approaching, and even more so to go in search of an injured alien. But if the Talehons found Linse, they would surely kill him.
Ronan and Dah’Te sped through the forest trails, passing through swathes of deep shadow where the canopy thickened. More light filtered through the thinning trees the further they drove from New Denver. After what seemed like hours, Dah’Te tapped his shoulder and pointed to a small clearing. Ronan slowed the rover.
Broken branches littered the ground and the clean scent of fresh sap filled the air. Downy white-and-brown feathers drifted on the breeze to settle in clumps among the bright orange and blue wildflowers.
He stopped the rover, powered down the motor, and picked up his medikit. As he stepped from the vehicle, he hesitated, unsure about bringing the small plasma gun hidden beneath the dash. His oath as a doctor to cause no harm warred with his desire to help Dah’Te’s brother. Sighing, he released the locks, pulled the gun free, and strapped it to his thigh.
Dah’Te crouched by a tree’s base and he joined her. “I left Linse here,” she said, her speech improving now that she’d had time to calm down a bit. She gestured to a dark patch of bark. “He was bleeding and his wing was broken.”
Ronan studied their surroundings. “He can’t have gone far.”
“Unless the Talehons took him,” she muttered, and stood.
“Don’t think like that.”
She shrugged and moved away. Her wing brushed his arm and he shivered as a small jolt shocked his spine. “I’m being realistic, Ronan.” She glanced skyward from the clumps of feathers on the ground, and back to the feather trail. “Talehon clan won’t hesitate to kill a youngling like Linse.”
He heard the hitch in her voice as she spoke. “Dah’Te,” he said softly and grabbed her arm to stop her. Like all Auilans, she was petite, the top of her head barely reaching Ronan’s shoulder. He stooped to face her squarely.
Tears glimmered in the corners of her wide eyes.
“We’ll find him.” He cupped her cheek. “I promise.”
She stepped close and slipped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his chest. Her wings folded to encircle him in a double embrace. “You shouldn’t make an oath you may not honor.”
The thrumming beat of wings drew Ronan’s attention to the treetops in time to see three male Auilans plunging toward them.
“Down!” He pitched himself to the ground, pulling Dah’Te along with him as the men soared overhead in a flurry of black-and-red wings.
Dah’Te sprang to her feet, drawing her sword, and launched into the air in pursuit of the Talehon clan attackers.
He scrambled to his feet, calling and running after her. He hurdled fallen trees and sidestepped debris piles where vipers often hid. Brambles tugged at his pants. Branches slapped his arms and chest and left stinging welts. Ground-covering roots snagged his feet and slowed his chase.
Sharp bird-like cries and the metallic ring of clashing swords ricocheted through the forest. Shifting shadows underneath the sprawling canopy cloaked the Auilans’ dark wings, making it difficult to pinpoint their locations. The sound of rushing water soon reached Ronan as he followed the trail of broken branches and drifting feathers.
A thrashing ball of wings and limbs crashed into Ronan, knocking him off balance. He tumbled into a bramble patch, thorns raking and slicing his skin, as he slid down a steep incline. His shoulder clipped a boulder, spinning him into the base of a large tree, which prevented him from falling into the swift current of the river below.
Groaning, he sat, braced his back against the tree, and pulled free the plasma gun. He searched for signs of his assailants or Dah’Te.
A flash of red to his right. A call from the left.
His instincts screamed for him to run. He forced himself to remain still.
Silver glinted as a black-and-red-winged Talehon dropped to the ground in front of him, swinging a short sword at his head.
He ducked, twisting to land on his back as he raised the gun, and fired. A bolt of superheated plasma lit the forest and skimmed the Auilan’s side before tearing through an outstretched wing. Feathers blazed. The Talehon shrieked and retreated in a trail of charred feathers and smoke.
Ronan needed to find Dah’Te. He pushed to his feet.
Another Talehon swooped into view.
Ronan fired and missed.
The Auilan barreled into him. Taloned hands ripped into his shirt to grip flesh. With a few powerful wingstrokes, they were airborne and gliding over the river.
Ronan’s stomach dipped and his head spun as the Auilan rose steadily higher. He briefly registered that he still had the pulse gun. He didn’t dare use it, however, as an image of his own broken and twisted body floating away on the river’s current danced before him.
A quickly moving shadow darted over them. The Talehon grunted and dropped several feet as something slammed into his back.
Ronan cried out in pain as one of the Auilan’s hands tore free. He caught a brief glimpse of Dah’Te on the Talehon’s back, ripping at his wings, before the Auilan released his grip, and Ronan was free-falling.
The icy river water shocked his breath. The rapid current tore the plasma gun from his hand. He kicked for the surface and gasped a fresh air supply before the flow pulled him under. His body slammed painfully into submerged boulders. The heavy medikit on his back weighed him down. He shrugged out of it only to have it also ripped from his hands as the current tossed him into another boulder.
He struggled through the water, broke free, and managed to grab a low hanging branch. Holding onto it, he kicked against the powerful flow and inched toward the safety of the bank. He pulled himself on shore, gasping and coughing to clear his lungs of water. His entire body ached. His chest and shoulders were on fire where the Auilan’s talons had slashed him open. Darkness clouded his sight.
“Dah’Te . . .”
Shivering from the cold, he collapsed and allowed the shadows to consume him.
Night nibbled at daylight as Dah’Te followed the river, searching from aloft for evidence of Ronan. She’d seen him fall into the swiftly moving water as she grappled with the Talehon clansman.
When the first attack came, she’d pursued the Talehons. They had soon separated, the largest one turning on her. The battle had been brief. He’d outmatched her in strength, but her smaller size allowed for quicker strikes. She’d left him sprawled and lifeless on the forest floor.
She’d seen a second Talehon carrying away Ronan and attacked from above. Seeking to damage his wings and force him to land, she’d accomplished her goal, but Ronan had been lost to the river. The third attacker had vanished.
Guilt stabbed at her. It had been her suggestion to take her younger brother Linse hunting. When he’d challenged her to an aerial race, she’d joyfully accepted. But she’d been careless and hadn’t noticed that they’d strayed into the territory at the heart of the dispute between Azein and Talehon clans.
The Talehons had attacked without warning. She and Linse had fought them off, but not before Linse had taken a strong hit in his left wing. He’d been grounded, injured, and she had been forced to leave him to seek help.
That she had thought to go to the humans – to Ronan – instead of her own clan surprised her. She liked the human healer. He freely answered her questions and asked only for his own to be answered in return. But, again, her carelessness had demanded a price, and now Ronan was lost.
S
he banked and dropped lower to the water. Her eyesight adjusted quickly to the gloaming, but it would still be easy to miss Ronan as darkness obscured the landscape.
Movement in the water pulled her into a dive. An object bobbed along the surface, caught in an eddy between two boulders. She swooped low, snatched her target from the current, and glided to shore. The red-and-white markings blazed in the dying sunlight.
It was Ronan’s pack.
She spread her wings and ran for a large boulder near the shore. Using it as a springboard, she launched into the air. Ronan’s pack weighed her down, forcing her to stay low to the river. Wing tips skimmed the water’s surface as they bent and flexed to keep her aloft.
Her eyes scanned the shoreline. Twice she thought she saw a human form only to find it was a downed tree or rock outcrop. A third such shadowy form appeared to her left. She veered toward it and hope blossomed as light from the newly risen twin moons highlighted a shock of blond hair.
She landed in a run. “Ronan!”
He groaned as she slid to a stop beside him.
Carefully she rolled him onto his back. Deep wounds marred his chest and shoulders from the Talehon’s claws.
“Ronan.” She cradled his face. “Wake up.”
He moaned but didn’t open his eyes.
Dah’Te ripped away the remains of his shirt to expose the wounds. She grabbed his pack and dumped its waterlogged contents on the ground. Searching through the devices and supplies, despair crept into her heart. She wasn’t a skilled healer. The contents spread before her meant nothing to her untrained eyes.
But she had to try.
She forced herself to be calm. She’d seen Ronan use his healer’s tools. She only needed to remember.
Picking up a cylindrical device, she examined it. She tapped its ends with a talon. It remained silent. Laying it aside, she picked up a strange wand-like instrument. She pressed a small button on its side. Blue light filled the wand.
Recognition slammed into her.
She held the wand over a small cut on her arm. The skin beneath warmed, tingled, and then stitched itself together. She smiled and moved the wand to the worst of Ronan’s wounds on his chest.
Long minutes passed before the first signs of healing showed, and the blue light was dimming. The wound closed slowly. The light flickered once. Twice. Vanished.
Dah’Te grunted in frustration. She shook the wand and pressed the button. No light showed. She smacked it against her palm. The light didn’t return.
Ronan’s chest wound was mostly healed. It still had a jagged and raw look but it no longer bled. The gashes along his shoulder weren’t as severe, but required cleaning if they were to heal on their own.
She tore the rest of his shirt into strips and washed them in the river. Using the damp cloth, she cleansed the shoulder wound as best she could and rummaged through the remaining supplies. She found a packet of ointment that stung her nose when she smelled it. She smeared a fingertip’s amount onto one of her own cuts.
It burned and stung and made her gasp, but after a moment the pain dulled.
She applied the remainder to Ronan’s shoulder and a little to his chest. Using white cloth squares and strips of his shirt, she covered and bound his wounds.
Dah’Te gathered the pack’s contents and returned them to their home. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her wings around herself like a cloak, watching the steady rise and fall of Ronan’s chest as he slept beside her.
Ronan was unlike any Auilan man she’d known. Tall and lean, with a muscular frame. Golden hair cut close to his skull. No tribal markings. No wings. Small dark eyes that couldn’t see the same distance as hers could. Physical appearances aside, his easy smile and laughter lightened her.
Something stirred within her as the twin moons moved overhead in their immortal dance with the stars. She longed for that familiar lightness to find her, to comfort her. She traced the shape of his mouth with her finger. On impulse she leaned forward and briefly pressed her lips to his.
He sighed. “Dah’Te . . .”
She stretched out on the ground next to him. The exertions of the day had weakened her, and fear for her brother chilled her. She laid her head on Ronan’s chest, mindful to stay clear of his wounds.
He stirred, wrapping his arms around her.
Stretching her wings over them both for warmth, Dah’Te lay in the darkness and listened to the sound of Ronan’s breath for a long time before sleep finally pulled her into its embrace.
Ronan awoke to sunshine and splashing water. He lifted his upper body, resting on his elbows, and grimaced as his muscles protested at the movement. Pain spread from his right shoulder, across his chest to the left, and choked his breath. He forced himself to sit and was surprised to find his chest, shoulder, and ribs wrapped in what could only be the remnants of his shirt.
Confusion fogged his mind but soon cleared as the memory of being carried away by an Auilan surfaced. Blinking against the bright dawn light, he studied his surroundings.
He sat on the riverbank, sunlight glistening off the water as it tumbled over rocks in a miniature waterfall. His medikit lay next to him. He frowned. Hadn’t he lost it in the river?
Searching the pack, he found one of the seals had been damaged and water had seeped inside. Most of the sterile first-aid supplies were still intact. The bio-scanner wasn’t so fortunate. Water had corroded the circuits, making it a useless paperweight. The dermal regenerator seemed to work, but the charge was expended so it was nonfunctional as well. He sighed and closed the kit.
Once more the sound of splashing water called to him.
He stood and waited for the world to stop its insane spin. A breeze swayed the trees, and a flutter of white drew him toward the river. Reaching the shore, he picked up the flimsy white material the wind had knocked loose from a branch. The splashing water sounds ceased and he glanced to his right.
Dah’Te stood in the river’s shallows, the supple curve of her buttocks visible beneath the water. His eyes tracked the gentle curve of her spine upward to where her wings melded with flesh, and across her shoulders to the profiled swell of her bare breasts hidden by her arms. Her spiraling tattoos flowed with the contours of her muscles.
His gaze locked with hers. Heat rushed his face.
“You’re staring,” she said.
He dropped his gaze, trying to ignore the growing physical response of his body. “Sorry,” he murmured, balling the thin fabric of her toga in his hands. “I didn’t know you were, uh – didn’t know you were bathing – were here.”
Water sloshed.
He glanced at her in time to see her uncovered breasts as her wings folded around her like a cloak. “I should go,” he said in a rush, and spun away.
“Ronan?”
He paused, back stiff, and body on fire with the urge to join her in the shallows.
“You have my clothes.” Amusement made her musical voice sound all the more lyrical.
He whispered a curse and tightened his grip on the fabric. His head and body warred. He was a doctor. He’d seen naked people. Seeing Dah’Te shouldn’t be any different from viewing a patient.
And yet he froze when he tried to face her.
A gentle touch on his back prickled his flesh and stuttered his breath.
Dah’Te traced the edge of his shoulder bandage as she moved to stand before him. “Your arm?”
He kept his eyes averted. “No pain.”
Her other hand slipped up his opposite arm to rest on the second bandage. “Your chest?”
An ache pulsed under her touch. He met her gaze. “Hurts.”
Worry knitted her brow. “The wound?”
He dropped the wad of fabric he held to cup her chin. “My heart,” he whispered, and captured her lips with his own.
She opened to him. He reveled in her softness. Feathers trailed over his bare back as her wings caught him in an Auilan embrace. His arms snaked around her waist and drew her to him.
&nbs
p; But it wasn’t close enough.
Soon Ronan lay on his back with Dah’Te astride his hips as he moved inside her. Her soft moans spurred his rhythm. Sunlight silhouetted her wide-spread wings and lit her upturned face as her back bowed in ecstasy. Her climax shattered him and left him spent and trembling in her arms.
It took the better part of the morning for them to make their way back to the solar-rover. Dah’Te had argued that flying would be faster, but Ronan was adamant that his feet would remain on the ground. She didn’t understand his fear of high places, but she accepted it. Staying grounded for too long made her anxious as well.
She glanced at Ronan’s bare back as he bent over to check the rover’s instruments. He muttered and fiddled with controls. Her gaze shifted downward to his buttocks and legs. Her mind drifted to their lovemaking and the excitement she’d felt when she’d discovered the strength hidden beneath his tender mannerisms. He hadn’t left her wanting.
And yet, once they left the seclusion of their riverside camp, guilt had taken root in her mind. The closer she and Ronan had drawn to the place where she’d left her brother, the more that guilt had weighed on her, until she’d felt it would break her.
She forced herself to turn away and scan the skies for Talehon scouts. Two of the three who attacked them yesterday could’ve returned to their clan for reinforcements. She and Ronan would be outnumbered. Ronan and Linse, if he were found, would be killed. A kindness compared to her fate. If captured, her wings would be clipped and she would be made an amusement for Talehon warriors.
Dah’Te shuddered, her wings bristling. She wanted to find Linse and return to Azein clan territory. She rested an uneasy hand on the hilt of her sword. It was their only defense. Ronan had lost his weapon to the river.
Again her mind wandered and she silently chastised herself. She shouldn’t have paired with Ronan. Not while Linse was still missing. What if the Talehons discovered her brother? He was a youngling, only ten and four winters, and no match for a Talehon warrior. Linse was her responsibility, and she’d forsaken him.
