Page 45 of Rescued

“Help!” he shouted again, taking a few more steps into the forest. “Hey—can anyone hear me? Is anyone there?”

“How can one help hearing you if you insist on trying to shout the entire forest down?”

The gruff voice came from behind him. Nate turned quickly, being careful to keep Lan’ara’s limp form protectively close to his chest.

Standing under one of the weeping-willow type trees was a short little man. He stepped out from under the trailing branches so Nate could see him more clearly. He had pale blue skin and a shiny bald head and he was wearing the same loose white trousers that all the men wore here.

“What’s all this shouting about?” he demanded, glaring up at Nate fearlessly. Then he seemed to notice Lan’ara for the first time. “Oh—a Freelon! What happened to her? Is she injured?”

“I don’t know—she just fainted,” Nate admitted. “And what’s a ‘Freelon?’ She told me she was an Empath Kindred.”

“She may have Kindred blood in her veins, but she also has the blood of our most honored caste—the Freelons,” the old man told him. “They are the ones with the purple skin and the strongest Empathic abilities among us. We revere them and they are so rare. If one is lost, it is a true tragedy!”

“I don’t want her to be lost!” Nate said, feeling a surge of fear. “Please—is there any kind of emergency room I can take her to around here?”

“A room filled with emergencies?” The old man frowned. “What would be the purpose of such a place?”

“To heal her, of course!” Nate felt a surge of irritation.

“Why, only a fated mate can heal a Freelon,” the old man said, frowning. “Are you her fated mate? I can tell you’re not from Careesa Prime,” he added.

“No, I’m from Earth. I don’t know about the fated mate thing, but we are in our Claiming Period,” Nate said, remembering what Lan’ara had told him. “I mean, we’re just in the beginning of it, but—”

“Ah, then you are her fated mate.” The old man nodded his shiny bald head knowingly. “Good—then you can heal her. Come with me.”

And he turned and walked off into the woods.

“Wait—who are you?” Nate called after him. “I don’t even know you!”

The old man turned back for a moment.

“I am Teetsook,” he said, making a little bow. “And you are the fated mate of a Freelon—you must come with me.”

Then he turned away and continued making his way between the trees.

Nate stood frozen with indecision for a moment. Should he follow a stranger into a forest he didn’t know? Part of him shouted that it was a bad idea. But on the other hand, what else could he do? He couldn’t just stand here holding Lan’ara, and the walk back to the seaside resort where they were staying was at least half a day. Also, the old man seemed to know some way to help or heal Lan’ara, though he wasn’t being very upfront about what it was. He seemed to think that Nate could heal her somehow. But how?

Well, you’re never going to find out how unless you follow him, whispered a little voice in his head.

Which seemed to be true.

“All right—hope I won’t regret this,” he muttered and set off, following the little man deeper into the silvery white forest of softly humming trees.

They walked for what felt like hours until they finally reached a small but cozy-looking cabin. It was made of the same silvery-white wood as the singing trees but the sides of it were covered in pale purple moss and it was thatched with dark blue straw. Golden light spilled from the windows, offering a homely glow in the middle of the woods.

It was starting to get dark and Nate’s stomach was growling—they hadn’t eaten all day. He hoped that he could get some food as well as some help for Lan’ara. She had stirred several times in his arms as he carried her through the forest, but she hadn’t ever woken completely. At least she was still breathing deeply and evenly, though.

“Here is my domicile,” the little bald man said, turning to him. “As the fated mate of a Freelon, allow me to invite you inside and offer you the hospitality and healing of my humble home.”

“Uh, thanks.” Nate nodded gratefully. As strong as he was, his arms were getting tired. He wanted to lay Lan’ara down and examine her more thoroughly to see if he could get her to wake up.

He climbed up the two steps and the old man held the wooden door open wide so he could step inside without hitting Lan’ara’s head. Nate had to duck his own head to get past the door’s frame, but once inside, he found that the ceiling opened up a little—though it was still only around six inches from the top of his head.

Like stepping into a fucking hobbit hole, he thought. But he was used to being too tall to fit in a lot of spaces.

The hut was small and he appeared to have stepped right into the kitchen and dining area, if the stove-looking thing in the corner and the crude wooden table and chairs was any indication. There was a pot of blue liquid bubbling slowly on the stovetop that gave off a sweet, nutty scent which made Nate’s stomach growl again.

But he didn’t have much time to look around because Teetsook was already beckoning him through a curtained archway into the room beyond.

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