Page 46 of Rescued

“Come…come—you can lay her here on the sleeping platform,” he said impatiently.

Nate ducked through the doorway, being careful of Lan’ara’s head, and found himself in a surprisingly airy bedroom. In the corner, on a raised platform about five feet off the ground, was a puffy looking mattress with a colorful quilt. The cheerful red and orange and blue pattern was the brightest thing Nate had seen so far, on this world of muted pastels.

“Lay her there!” Teetsook demanded, pointing at the raised mattress again. “She will be safe until you can begin the healing.”

“Begin the healing? How?” Nate demanded.

But the little old man only shook his head and indicated that he should lay Lan’ara down again.

Carefully, Nate did as he said. She moaned softly as he laid her on the puffy mattress and her eyelids fluttered but again, she didn’t wake up.

“There now, there now,” the old man crooned. “Such a lovely Freelon, too! You are very lucky to be the fated mate of such a one,” he said to Nate. “Though I do not think you know so—how could you let her get so low? Why have you not fed her?”

“Fed her what?” Nate demanded in exasperation. “You think she fainted because of low blood sugar or something?”

Which was entirely possible, since neither of them had eaten since breakfast, which had been a buttery roll stuffed with some kind of soft, spreadable purple cheese. It had been delicious, but they had eaten hours ago. If Lan’ara really did have a blood sugar problem like hypoglycemia, it made sense that she would faint.

But Teetsook was shaking his bald head again.

“No, no—she is an Empath! A highly sensitive one—her needs are greater than those of us who feel less strongly,” he told Nate. “You need to feed her with your emotions. Put your hand against her cheek and feel at her—but only positive feelings, mind!” he added, as Nate tentatively cupped Lan’ara’s cheek in his hand. “Don’t go giving her negative thoughts and emotions—that will only make her worse!”

Nate wasn’t sure what to make of this—it sounded crazy to him. Still, he was willing to do whatever he could to help the alien girl he was beginning to feel for so strongly. So he closed his eyes and did his best to send her positive feelings.

Unfortunately, all he could seem to think about was how worried he was about her and how hungry he was. He was a big guy and it took a lot of fuel to keep him going. Next time he was definitely going to insist they at least pack a snack if they were going on a trip, he decided. But what if they never got to go on any more trips because something was really wrong with Lan’ara? What if she never woke up from this faint she’d fallen into? What if it was some kind of a coma? What if—

Lan’ara stirred under his hand, her brow creasing in a look of pain as a moan was dragged from her throat.

“Stop it—stop that! What are you doing!” Teetsook grabbed at Nate’s arm, pulling his hand away from Lan’ara’s face. “I told you, only positive feelings! Why are you giving her pain instead of pleasure?”

“I’m sorry—I didn’t fucking mean to!” Nate muttered. “I’m just so fucking worried about her! And I just—”

His stomach growled again, loudly this time.

“Ah…” Teetsook nodded wisely. “I see—you’re hungry. Well, why didn’t you say so? I never knew any male who could feed his female positive emotions on an empty stomach. Come—we’ll eat and then you can try again.”

The warm, nutty aroma coming from the other room made his stomach growl again, but Nate was reluctant to go.

“I don’t like leaving her here,” he protested. “What if she wakes up and rolls off the bed? It’s pretty high up, you know—she could hurt herself.”

“Don’t worry about that. Here.” Teetsook reached up and grabbed the side of the mattress that wasn’t against the wall. He molded and rolled it until he had made a kind of bumper down the side of it.

Nate frowned as he watched—the puffy mattress must be made of some weird alien material, he thought. It certainly wasn’t like any mattress he’d ever seen before.

“There!” the old man said, turning to Nate and putting his hands on his hips. “She’s perfectly safe—I would never allow any Freelon to come to harm in my abode. Now will you come and eat?”

Nate still didn’t like the idea of leaving Lan’ara alone, but he had to admit she was now safe from rolling off the bed and they were just going into the other room. Plus, he felt like his stomach was gnawing his backbone, as his grandpa would have said. So he nodded and followed Teetsook back into the kitchen area of the cabin.

“Now then—let’s get you seen to,” the old man said. Getting a crude wooden bowl out of a cabinet, he began ladling out scoops of the thick blue goop from the pot on the stove. He handed the full bowl to Nate along with a carved wooden spoon.

“Uh, thank you. What is it?” Nate dipped the spoon into the gluey blue mixture. It was slightly lumpy and looked kind of like melted blue crayons that still had some chunks of unmelted wax swimming in the mixture.

“Why, it’s Singing Tree nut stew of course,” the old man said. He had ladled out a smaller bowl of the blue goo for himself and now he sat beside Nate at the table and began to dig in. “Mmm-mm! Delicious, if I do say so myself!”

Since his host was eating so eagerly, Nate felt like it would be rude not to at least try the strange stew. Besides, as weird as it looked, it smelled really good—kind of like oatmeal cookies with toasted pecans in them, he thought. Also, he was so hungry at this point, he would have eaten almost anything.

He put a spoonful in his mouth and was surprised at the complex flavor. There was a hint of oatmeal flavor but also a sweet, nutty note finished with a slightly salty aftertaste, almost like buttered toast.

“Fuck—this is really good!” he remarked and went back for another spoonful—and then another and another. Before he knew it, the wooden bowl was empty and he had to stop himself from licking it like a dog to get the last traces of the blue nutty stew.