Page 182 of Seven Oars
Afraid to lose control of her energy, she avoided more intimate touch. With a trembling hand, she wrapped her fingers around his thick wrist, noting how limp and lifeless it was.
She was losing him.
“Please, Fincros. Please, Universe.”
She let her energy slip into him. It worked, but it wasn’t perfect. Once again, her inability to channel energy into Fincros puzzled her. It was not a problem with others like Phex, but with Finn, it was all or nothing.
She couldn’t give him too much. For starters, she had very little. And if she gave it all and died, who would take care of him?
With her other hand, Rosamma searched for his heartbeats and found them weak. Only one heart appeared to be beating, struggling.
Despair was thick and sickening.
Finn and she weren’t even dots in the Universe. Their entire existence felt pointless. They would never leave Seven Oars. It had become their home, and soon, their grave.
A yawning chasm of hopelessness swallowed Rosamma whole. She clung to Fincros’hand until dizziness overcame her.
He didn’t stir, but his strange Rix nostrils fluttered faintly as he breathed.
Through the hopelessness and despair, he breathed.
Not today, Universe. Not today…
Chapter 26
Rosamma’s periodic energy infusions over the next several days had only a limited effect on Fincros. He remained unconscious, and his eyes were closed. Blood, pale and bluish, seeped from between his eyelids like tears he never shed. It welled up slowly and pooled in the corners before sliding down his temples.
The eye bleed wouldn’t stop, and Rosamma couldn’t stop crying.
If his eyes didn’t recover, he wouldn’t be able to function. Not in a space station. Not among these people.
“You’ve got to rest,” Eze kept telling Rosamma.
“I will. In a little bit,” she kept replying.
She knew she had to rest. She was depleted and growing cold, but Fawn and Anske were here, and Rosamma felt oddly protective of Fincros in their presence.
Fawn had crashed, sleeping on her side. Anske sat upright in the corner, alert. She had asked probing questions about Fincros’condition, her words devoid of any real concern.
Rosamma found it impossible to fall asleep and leave Finn vulnerable to Anske’s cold, indifferent stare.
And if he was to breathe his last, she wanted to be there to catch it.
Ironic, since she had once wished him dead. Fate was a cruel jester.
She wiped his bloody tears with her towel, already soaked through. Then she reached for the food packet Eze had left for her, intent on cramming nutrients into her human body so it wouldn’t weaken further. She ate, crouched over Finn, casting mistrustful glances at Anske like a feral she-wolf.
She was about to force down another bite when he moved his head, sending fresh blood leaking from beneath his eyelids.
Rosamma dropped the food packet.“Fincros?”
But he didn’t reply, going still again.
Rosamma could taste her despair.
“His eyes should’ve stopped bleeding now. Why won’t they stop bleeding?” Hysteria threatened to take control.“Why is he still unconscious? He should be strong. He’s a Rix…”
She had to bite on her fist to ward off an encroaching meltdown. Her losing her mind wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Finn.
