Page 61 of An Alien for the Farm

“Eleanor,” he whispers. Then he does the Kari salute, tapping two fingers to the center of his chest. “My siblingkin’s kahl.”

He says the word with such reverence that I momentarily forget the ache in my head. I’m pretty sure ‘kahl’ doesn’t mean ‘employer’, because Varek suddenly falls to his knees on the wet earth before me, head bowed. I don’t know how to react or respond.

“Varek?” I don’t understand. “What’s going on?”

He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he bows lower. “Please forgive what I am about to do.”

What he’s about to—

Without warning—or, I suppose, he did warn me—Varek lifts me into his arms. The protective suit crunches as he grips me tight.

“I need to get you to shelter,” he says, standing and turning toward the cottage. I wince as the shift in position makes my head pound.

“I’m fine, really. It’s Zynar you should worry about.”

Varek only grunts as he hurries across the wet field and toward the cottage. Hunching, he leans forward so his body blocks the brunt of the rain as he carries me. I blink at him, my gaze shifting to the farm buildings, then back. He’s here, but he’s not with Zynar. After what I told him over the communicator, the fact he’s not rushing to his brother’s aid is only raising questions in my mind.

When we reach the house and he heads straight up to the porch, I get even more confused.

“Varek…Zynar is in there.” I point weakly to the barn.

Varek’s gaze shifts to the barn, but that’s it.

“You were right to call me, Eleanor.” He uses a shoulder to push the front door of my cottage open. There’s a depth to his voice that makes him sound so much like Zynar. It only makes a part of me ache deep inside at the fact that Zynar’s not here. It feels like only a moment ago he was holding me in his arms and now something’s happening to him and I have no clue what.

I wince as my head continues to pound. “Zynar needs you,” I try to communicate the gravity of the situation with my tone. “And a doctor. When I last saw him—” I breathe hard, pushing through the pain. “—he—”

“Kahlesta.” Varek stops me with the one word as he steps into the house. “Zynar didn’t want me here so I could help him. He wanted me here to help you.”

His words cut off any thought in my mind. I’m so confused, I don’t even immediately notice he’s brought me straight into the bedroom until we’re standing by the bed. Balancing me on one arm, he uses the other to strip the sheets and fold them into a padded area that he sets me on, probably because I’m soaking wet.

As soon as he puts me down, I try to rise. I end up swaying, my vision going blurry for a second.

“Wait here, kahlesta.” He disappears into the other room, and I hear the front door open. A breath of relief makes my shoulders sag. He’s finally gone to Zynar.

I’m wrong.

Varek returns far too quickly. When I hear him talking to someone on his comm, I try to get up again, but end up going so dizzy, I have to sit my butt down.

I am not okay. Just how hard did I hit my head?

Varek suddenly returns to the bedroom, still wearing that hazmat-like suit and with a small trunk in hand. He didn’t go to the barn then. Did he go to his truck?

“She is conscious. Tell me what to do.” His voice carries an edge of urgency beneath his calm as he still talks to the person on his communicator. The response of whoever he’s talking to is distorted, but I catch fragments. Instructions, concerns—terms I don’t fully grasp in my hazy state.

“Kahlesta,” Varek turns to me, “the medic can’t reach us quickly.” Medic? “He will guide me through helping you until he can get here.”

I try to protest, to tell him I’m fine, but the pounding in my head intensifies, forcing me to rest against the padded bed. My vision blurs and steadies, blurs and steadies. Okay, I’m not fine.

The comm crackles and the being on the other end of the line speaks. “Have you taken precautions?”

“Fully,” Varek responds. “There will be no contamination.”

Contamination? I lift my head despite the heaviness, as if looking at him will give me understanding.

“Varek, what’s going on?” I hate how weak my voice sounds. I only fell. It can’t be that bad. I’m tougher than this.

Whoever’s on the line begins giving instructions. Varek’s hands are steady as he moves over to me and follows what they say. I don’t even protest as he checks my pulse and places a gloved claw lightly on my chest to monitor my breathing.

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