as he speaks. I don’t know what he says, but my brain imagines it as something like “We’re saved.”
Except…this is no better for T’chai, because there are no doctors. He’s going to die on a cold shore instead of a hot one, now.
10
MARI
I remain on the raft, holding T’chai’s hand as Lauren takes R’jaal and her mate K’thar to meet the others. There are hums of excitement through the group that stays with the rafts, but I don’t feel it. T’chai still lies unconscious, his breathing rapid and miserable. His skin burns up with fever, and I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.
I’d give anything to be a doctor right now. I should have gone to medical school instead of fucking off with my friends, taking time off after high school, and then getting a full-time job to pay the bills instead of going to college. I should have gone to nursing school instead of working tech support. I just want to know something—anything—that could help T’chai.
I press another miserable kiss to his knuckles, hating how bony they are now. He’s little more than sinew and skin at this point.
Footsteps crunch on the shore, and a cluster of newcomers appear with torches. I see golden gleaming skin, and then Veronica—mousy, clumsy Veronica—sits down next to me. She looks different than I remember her. Stronger. Braver. More.
She studies T’chai and then looks over at me. “I heard he’s sick.”
No shit, I want to say. I want to lash out at how healthy she looks, how plump-cheeked and happy despite the somber expression on her face. “He’s dying.”
And he’s going to leave me all alone here.
She spreads her hands, palm up. “I can help, Mari. I can heal.”
A treacherous sliver of hope enters my heart. “What do you mean, you can heal?”
“Kinda like a faith healer? Except it works through my khui.” She wiggles her fingers. “I put my hands on someone and I can feel what’s wrong, and…I can guide the khui to help fix it.”
I lick my dry lips. “Like a curandera?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
I shake my head. It’s not important. I remember my abuelo talking about the curandera in their village, a local woman that everyone knew had “hot hands.” She would rub them together, and then place them on the body part that hurt, and you would get better. I always thought my grandfather was a bit superstitious, but maybe there’s something like that here. “Don’t worry about it. You can help him?”
“I think I can.” Her gaze meets mine. “I don’t want to impose but…can I try?”
Impose? Impose? A hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat. “If you can heal him, you can impose all you want.”
She flashes a smile at me and then reaches out and gently touches T’chai’s other hand. Just as quickly, she pulls back again, and looks over at her mate. They say nothing, but some sort of communication seems to pass through them. The big golden man nods and steps forward. “We will take him back to our hut,” he says when I make a protesting sound and flatten myself atop T’chai. “He’s going to need more healing than she can do here on the raft.” He looks over at the others and barks a few words at S’bren and M’tok.
To my surprise, they answer him. They can understand the strange tribe’s language. I’m oddly jealous as I watch the three alien men carefully gather T’chai and carry him to shore.
I get to my feet, my legs cramping and weak. Veronica moves to my side, supporting my arm. “You don’t look so good, either.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “It’s been a hell of a time.”
“Then lean on me. I’ll fix you both up and you’ll be right as rain.”
She smiles, but somehow I doubt her words. Sometimes it feels like everything will never be right again.
The walk up to Veronica’s hut feels eternal. I know it’s just a short path from the shore to the hut itself. I can see it from the shoreline. The once-empty beach is now crowded with tents and cookfires, and it almost looks cozy. Up the sloping, pebble-strewn beach, there’s a cluster of huts at the top of a hill and Veronica’s is there. Any other time it’d be a short jaunt, barely something to think about. But because I’m so exhausted, it’s endless. I feel as if I’ve hit the last vestiges of my energy as she pulls back the flap on