Page 32 of Tharn's Hunt
The wound. I need to clean the wound.
I shift closer, examining the angry gash on his shoulder. The shadow creature's teeth had torn deep, and though the bleeding has stopped, the wound looks infected. Dark streaks radiate outward, and the skin around it is hot to the touch.
"This doesn't look good," I mutter. "Like, at all."
I scan the small cave, looking for his medicinal pouch. There it is; attached to his hip with what looks like dried sinew. I crawl toward it, every movement an effort, but determination pushes me forward. When I reach it, I fumble with the ties, my fingers clumsy from weakness.
Come on, Jacqui. Focus.
Inside the pouch, I find a few remaining leaves, and by a few, I mean two. Surely, this won’t be enough. They're crumpled and dry, too, but they'll have to do. I crush one between my palms like I'd seen him do. It takes a lot of work; my weak fingers barely manage to create a paste. I add a few drops of water to help.
As the scent rises, it reminds me of lemon just mixed with something spicier, like pepper. I hope I'm doing this right.
I return to Goldi’s side, carefully applying the paste to his wound. My hands shake with the effort, but I work slowly, covering every inch of the angry flesh.
"There," I whisper when I've finished. "That should help. I hope."
I sit back, exhaustion washing over me in waves. Even that small effort has drained what little energy I had. I take a small sip from the waterskin, savoring the cool liquid as it soothes my parched throat.
The cave is dim, lit only by the faint glow emanating from him. Outside, I can hear the distant sounds of the desert night. Strange calls and clicks that make my skin crawl. We're safe in here, for now. But for how long?
I look at Goldi again, at his still form and the wound I've done my best to treat. He risked everything to keep me alive, to bring me to safety. And now he might die because of it.
The thought sends a surprising pang through my chest.
"Don't you dare die on me," I mutter, crawling back to his side. "We had a deal, remember? You were taking me to my sister."
He doesn't respond, but I wasn't really expecting him to. I settle beside him, drawing his arm around me partly for warmth and partly because... well, it feels right somehow. Safe.
And…I’m being a bit selfish right now, aren’t I?
"Thank you," I whisper against his chest. "For saving me. For carrying me. For not leaving me to die out there."
I close my eyes, exhaustion pulling me under once more. The last thing I remember is the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear, a rhythm that promises he's still fighting.
Still with me.
I waketo the sensation of movement.
Goldi’s chest rises and falls beneath my cheek, his breathing stronger than before. I blink awake, lifting my head to find golden eyes watching me.
"Hey," I croak. "You're alive."
His gaze flickers with what might be relief, though it's hard to tell with his alien features. He shifts slightly, wincing as the movement pulls at his wounded shoulder.
"How are you feeling?" I ask, pushing myself up to a sitting position. The world tilts briefly before stabilizing.
He doesn't answer, just watches me with those intense amber eyes. The disconnect is jarring after what felt like such clear communication during my fever. The memory of his deep and commanding voice is so vivid.
My heart starts to pound with a nervous uncertainty. "Goldi?" I try, keeping my voice soft, the way his felt in my mind. "Can you... understand me? The way you did before?"
His brow tightens, his head tilting in that curious, animal-like way. He's studying me, but he doesn’t respond.
A cold knot of dread forms in my stomach. I try to push past it. "Remember?" I search his gaze. "We talked. You called me 'precious one' and told me I wouldn't die. It was all very dramatic."
I search his face for any sign of understanding, but his expression only grows more strained. The muscles in his jaw clench, and a low growl of frustration rumbles deep in his chest. He looks... annoyed. Like I'm a buzzing insect he can't swat. The line between us, which felt so clear and open, is now a wall of silent, angry confusion.
Oh God.
