Page 12 of Risking Her Heart

“Too hot?” I ask.

“I’m… fine,” she says.

The pause between her words worries me. I study her face, not sure why, but knowing that she is lying. We ride in silence whileI remain at her side, studying her as I chew on my own meal. She glances over occasionally but when she does, her eyes look glassy, lacking their normal vibrance.

She’s not exuding moisture. The humans always do, so this makes no sense. It is their way of regulating their temperature. A bad way to do it, but that is the way their bodies are made. I am no healer, but all these little signs worry me.

“Epis?” I ask.

“Hmm?” she asks, swaying in the saddle but not looking over.

“Epis? Take?”

“Hmm?” she asks, swaying in the saddle.

Despite the redness of her skin, she also manages to look pale. Her eyes don’t seem to be focusing. I unstop my water skin and hold it out. She reaches for it but misses twice before I catch her hand and put it on the skin. It’s difficult to stretch between the gusters, but I help guide it to her lips.

She sips some water, but it won’t be enough. I leave the skin in her hand, turning to the pack on the other side of my mount. I did think to bring some of the dwindling supply of epis. I buried it among other things though, to make sure it didn’t accidentally fall out or get lost. I rummage through the pack, trying to find the wrap I put in there.

“Zas… don’t…”

I dig around, throwing a part of the tent I had packed in my haste. Finding the leather pack, I turn just in time to see Katarina slump. It’s as if her back gives out and her bones turn to water. She slouches and then is sliding to the far side.

Jerking on the reins of my mount, I slip my feet out of the stirrups. Twisting in the saddle some of the spikes scrape painfully over my protective scales.

“Katarina!” I yell.

The stirrups on her feet keep her from falling off the guster, for the moment at least. I try to grab her leg before she slips free, but I miss. My hand closes on emptiness, and she drops to the sand. I push off my mount, opening my wings to catch the hot breeze. The life’s breath of Tajss gives me the extra lift I need to jump from the guster.

Landing in the sand and sinking in, I flap my wings, providing just enough lift to race to her side. I keep my wings open to provide shade. She is shaking almost violently. Her eyes have rolled back into her head and her face is as red as the darkest of the sands striations.

When I press my hands to her face it is like shoving them into the open flames of a fire. I quickly open the leather wrap and tear off a good sized piece of epis. Its natural glow and vibrancy are faded, but it will help.

Her teeth chatter but I need to get this under her tongue. I grab onto her jaw, tighter and rougher than I would ever want to handle my treasure, but this is not the time for weakness. The convulsions jerk her face free of my grip. I hook one hand behind her neck, lifting her head. Grabbing onto her jaw again, I get a better hold.

Her jaw snaps open and closed as the convulsions continue. It’s going to be dangerous, but I must take the risk. I pinch the epis between my thumb and forefinger and the instant her teeth part, I shove them into her mouth.

The convulsion strikes and she clamps her teeth onto my fingers. I grunt in pain, certain for a moment that she might take my fingers clean off because they clamp with such violence and force. Her tongue lashes as I struggle to get the epis beneath it. I don’t want to leave it on top because then she is too likely to choke on it.

When I get it underneath, I try to pull my fingers back out, but she her entire body has gone rigid and locked onto my hand. I lower her to the sands then grab for the water skin. It’s just out of my reach. I stretch, straining to get my fingers onto it. I can’t reach it. Finally, I put my free arm under her legs and scoot her with me across the sand.

The pain in my fingers grows and she is making a gurgling sound. Getting a grip on the water skin, I pull the stopper with my teeth then splash water onto her face. She shudders but the red color lessens. Slowly, the convulsions come to a stop. The tension drains from her body and at last my fingers are free.

Holding them up and inspecting I see she did manage to pierce the protective scales. Blood drips from the bite wound. I’ll deal with that next, but first, I need to make sure she isn’t choking. I lift and position myself beneath her back and shoulders to keep her upper body at an angle.

The gurgling sound ends. She seems to be more at ease. I hold her, waiting. My fingers are still bleeding but I’m not willing to move yet. She is not safe, and I won’t let her go until I know she is.

I glance around and see the guster stopped not terribly far away. I never would have believed we could tame them, but they seem to have been broken well enough. The alpha that I was riding still tries to have his way, but he’s not as obstinate as he was.And the fact they haven’t run off at the first chance is a testament to the fact they are growing used to their captivity and being ridden.

My legs are going to sleep so I shift my position, making sure that she remains in the shade of my wings. It would be best if I were to set up the tent but I’m still not certain she’s well enough for me to leave her side.

Waiting, I keep my eyes on the sands around us. Tajss is never as peaceful as it seems and only those who are constantly alert will survive. When the sands to my right shift against the breeze it holds my attention.

Nothing happens for five beatings of my hearts, then I see it. The sands shift suddenly and in direct opposition to the moving air. Closing my protective lenses allows me to filter out some of the reflected light of the suns.

Moving slow, I pull the smaller knife from my belt with my left hand. I am not left handed, but I’m using my right arm to protect Katarina. The sands make a sudden motion as I raise my tail. This is not the way to handle this. Dangerous, but I’m balancing protecting her against my own safety.

I slap the sand with my tail down where it last shifted. As fast a motion as I can. As my tail rises from the sand the zmeya strikes. Leaping out of the sand, mouth open, fangs glistening as it tries to strike.

---