Page 75 of Tharn's Hunt
"What does it say?" Jus-teen asks eagerly.
"Nothing yet," Jah-kee answers, her head tilted as if listening. "Just?—”
“ARCHAIC LANGUAGE DETECTED. DRAKAVIAN. CALIBRATING.”
I freeze, my claws unsheathing instinctively. Something is speaking in Jah-kee’s ear. But it is not her voice, not Jus-teen’s, not anything I can see. A hidden thing is speaking in her head. A parasite.
“What is this?” My gaze locks on Jah-kee, whose eyes are wide with surprise, her hand still pressed to the side of her head. “Who speaks to her?”
“It’s fine!” Jus-teen says quickly, stepping into my path with both hands raised. “Relax, Tharn. It’s not an enemy.”
I do not relax. My claws twitch at my sides, my chest throbbing. “It is a voice.” My gaze narrows. “It hides. It speaks from nowhere. What is it?”
“It’s the translator,” Jus-teen vocalizes. Her mental voice is steady. “It’s not alive. It’s a device. A tool. It will help her understand you.”
I glance at Jah-kee again, my gaze drawn to the tiny stone lodged in her ear. It is too small to hold a voice. It is unnatural. Dangerous.
Jah-kee must sense my unease, because she takes a small step back, her free hand lifting defensively. “It’s okay,” she says softly, her water-blue eyes meeting mine. “It’s just... technology. It’s supposed to do this.”
I want to believe her. But my instincts scream otherwise.
“It will not harm her,” Jus-teen says firmly, stepping closer to Jah-kee as if to shield her from my suspicion. “I promise, Tharn. It’s meant to help. Let it calibrate.”
The word means nothing to me. My gaze flicks between the females, then to Rok, who stands silently beside Jus-teen, his expression calm but watchful. He tilts his head slightly, projecting reassurance into the mindspace. “It is safe, brother. Trust her.”
Trust. The word feels heavy in my mind, but I force myself to still my claws and step back. My dra-kir does not settle.
“Try again,” Jah-kee says after a moment, her voice hesitant but curious. She looks at Rok, her hand still hovering near her ear. “Say something else.”
Rok goes still, his throat working. I see the effort it takes. The strength for him to speak another phrase in Drakavian. I watch Jah-kee's face closely, noting the way her expression shifts from concentration to excitement when the translator responds.
“CALIBRATION AT 15%.”
"It's working,” she beams. “But it'sreallyslow."
"Better than nothing," Jus-teen says, then turns to me. "Your turn, Tharn. Try saying something to Jacqui."
I hesitate, suddenly aware of all eyes on me. The thought of speaking aloud, of using my voice rather than the mindspace, feels foreign. Uncomfortable. But for Jah-kee...
I clear my throat, the sensation strange after so long communicating only through the mindspace. When I speak, the words feel awkward on my tongue, rusty from disuse.
"Jah-kee. Dov’ah. Khem’sa’kahn. Dov’ah.”
Jah-kee's eyes widen slightly, her lips parting in surprise at the sound of my voice.
"CALIBRATION AT 20%."
Her eyes meet mine directly for the first time in sols. "Tharn, your voice…your language…it’s beautiful."
Her gaze is steady, curious, lingering on my face as if seeing me anew.
The pain in my chest recedes slightly, replaced by a different kind of ache—one that pulses in time with my dra-kir and sends heat flooding through me. My member twitches in its pouch, the sensation so unexpected and overwhelming, and I stagger under the weight of it.
I drop to my knees, claws digging into the sand as I fight to keep myself from unraveling completely. The rush of pleasure is too much. It is consuming.
My gaze shifts to Jus-teen.
There is no time for this. No time for the strange teaching stone to work or for the slow, clumsy process of speaking Drakavian.
