Page 22 of The Orc Outcast's Conquest

“Get up now, please. Really. Up you get.” She made a sound like she’d just tried to lift him, but he didn’t feel it.

It was almost like floating in an abyss. Relaxing, if he could forget he was moments away from his demise.

“Okay, okay. This isn’t working. I wonder...” Rustling sounded nearby. “Look, dude, I’m stealing your stuff. Wake up and stop me.” She was digging through his pack.

Some of his panic ebbed to make way for amusement.

“Let’s see, what else do we have—ow!”

Amusement over. His instincts roared to life, fighting hard against the poison. She was fucking injured. He could smell the blood, and he couldn’t do a blasted thing about it.

“That hurt. I’m hurt. Dreams don’t hurt.”

The fear in her tone was agony.

“Dreams don’t hurt. This... this is real. Is this real?”

He wished he could answer her.

“Please get up now.”

Then the truth of it all hit her, and fuck, he almost wished she’d go back to blissful ignorance.

“Oh god, oh my god. Okay. Okay, you said... where’s the water pouch?”

Govek would have held his breath if he had control of that.

“Okay, I’ll be back. I’ll be...” Her feet pounded on the hard ground, and her voice faded.

Govek almost never called to the Fades for aid. They had answered so rarely, but he was not above begging this time. Begging for her life as well as his.

It seemed like an eternity. Long enough he feared she hadn’t made it.What if a predator picked her off?

Fuck! He’d never fought so hard in his life. He willed his muscles to move, and heaved his focus, butall that hit was a dizzying sensation suggesting his lungs were losing their ability to expand.

Then the snapping of a branch met his ears. He heard her heavy breath next. He’d never heard anything so blissful.

“Okay,” she was breathless. Fabric rustled and ripped as she uncovered his wound. He heard splashing and knew she was pouring the water on him, but he still couldn’t feel it. “Okay, was that enough? Is that working? Oh god! I don’t know what I’m doing—help!”

No! She would bring every predator within twenty leagues.

“Help! Is anyone out there? Please! We need a doctor!”

A doctor? What is that? Did she mean healer? Her words were so strange. And her clothing was so odd and unfit for the cold weather. His nose could usually pick up individual ingredients within any stew or tincture he came across.

There wasn’t a single plant or potion within her tincture that he could recognize.

Because . . . they were not from Faeda.

She’d fallen from the sky.

And no one was coming to her aid.

Any thought that she may have been laying a trap, that she might have been deceiving him, died away.

Was she truly from another world?

Blast, what were the Fades doing to him?

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