The corners of Ziv’ri’s lips twitched. “I see she’s mastered the more important words in Alliance Common.”
Jak’ri nearly smiled. “Apparently.”
But their amusement, weak though it was, vanished when images began to accompany the telepathic shouts. Images of a familiar face leaning over them.
“Saekro,” Ziv’ri growled.
Visuals of delicate wrists constrained by manacles followed. Of laser scalpels drawing blood and taking samples.
Ava, he called, wishing he could help her.
The cursing continued unabated.
“Try to reach her,” he told his brother.
Ziv’ri was quiet for a long moment, then huffed with frustration.
Her words grew weaker. The images she projected lost focus.
Then all was quiet.
The brothers shared a grim look.
Ava had been right. Their shared dream had not been real.
But he was.
And he would find some way to help her now that he knew she was on this ship.
He would not leave her to the Gathendiens’ mercy.
Ava shivered. The breeze she had thought so pleasant before now raised gooseflesh on her skin and drove her to fold her arms around herself in an attempt to get warm.
She staggered, uncertain if the wind upset her balance or the dizziness that made the world around her tilt first one way then the other. Once more, she stood atop the cliff Jak’ri loved so much in the same spot they’d laughed and teased each other. Angry clouds clustered together above her. Though no lightning flashed, she heard thunder aplenty. Everything else—the deep blue ocean and the bright green forest—lay shrouded in dreary fog that lent it a gray cast.
“Jak’ri,” she whispered, “where are you?”
Leaves whispered behind her.
Ava spun to face the forest, hope vying with fear.
The large fronds parted and Jak’ri emerged.
As soon as he saw her, he halted. No smile of greeting lit his face. He looked about as grim as she felt.
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Then both moved at the same time, hurrying to close the distance that stretched between them.
Jak’ri opened his arms.
Ava entered them gratefully, wrapping him in a tight hug.
One of his big hands cupped the back of her head as he cradled her close. The other smoothed up and down her back as he pressed a kiss to her hair.
Neither spoke for several minutes. They just stood there, holding each other.
A lump rose in her throat. “I’m not on Purvel,” she whispered brokenly.
“No,” he responded, his deep voice full of regret. “You aren’t.”
Moisture welled in her eyes. “I’m on a Gathendien ship.”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Ava.”
She shook her head. It wasn’t his fault.
Trying hard to keep from breaking down and ugly crying, she drew back enough to look up at him. His handsome features were more somber than she’d ever seen them, his silver eyes full of concern. “Are you just a figment of my imagination?” If so, from where had he sprung? She had never heard of Purvelis before she’d found him in this dream world and hadn’t thought her imagination this skillful.
“No.” A sad smile lifted the corners of his lips. “I’m real, Ava. I’m on the Gathendien ship, too.”
She stared up at him. “What?”
“My brother and I have been the Gathendiens’ prisoners for…” Lips tightening, he looked around as though searching for an answer, then shook his head wearily. “I don’t know how long.” He motioned to his bare chest. “Long enough for me to no longer look like this.”
Brow furrowing, she eased out of his embrace and took a step back. “What do you mean? What do you look like now?”
Spreading his arms wide, he stared down at himself.
As Ava watched, his build went from heavily muscled to whipcord lean. He wasn’t stick thin. But his muscles were much more compact, the ribs beneath his gills more prominent. And his silver-tinged skin was marred in many places by scars and fresh cuts.
Or maybe incision sites.
She noticed he also now wore shorts that were a little looser than the swim trunks she’d seen him in previously.
Ava glanced down at herself. Her clothing had changed as well. Instead of jeans and a colorful shirt, she now wore a loose, wraparound shirt that tied on the sides and shorts like his. Her smart watch was missing. And her freckled arms bore fresh wounds where the Gathendiens had taken their damned samples.
She stared at him. “We’re both being held captive on their ship?”
“Yes. So is my brother, Ziv’ri.”
Understanding dawned as she looked around. “That’s why we’re here. On Purvel.” She met his gaze. “Because I was drawn into your dreams.”
His look turned uncertain. “In truth, I’m not sure how we’re together. Ziv’ri and I are both telepathic, but the Gathendiens have been dosing us with nahalae.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s a plant. When administered in certain doses, it robs us of our ability to communicate telepathically or to read the thoughts of those around us.” He motioned to the forest behind them and the ocean in front of them. “So I’m not certain how I did this, how I pulled you into my dreams. That shouldn’t be possible.”
“It’s because I’m telepathic, too,” she told him. “If you’re like the Lasarans, you probably have far greater control over your ability than I do. Hearing other people’s thoughts isn’t voluntary for me. Their thoughts just bombard me all the time unless I consciously block them, and that tends to take a lot of effort.”
It hadn’t when she had been among the Lasarans. Significantly stronger telepaths, Lasarans were taught at an early age how to erect mental barriers to keep other telepaths out, so the only thoughts she’d had to block were those of her friends from Earth.
“When I sleep, I lose that ability,” she continued. “So if I’m near other people, I often wind up in their dreams without consciously invading them.” She shifted uneasily. “I’m sorry if you find that… intrusive. It isn’t something I can control easily and—”
He touched a finger to her lips. “I’m glad you entered my dreams, Ava. Those that I’ve shared with you have brought me the only happiness I’ve found on this drekking ship.”
And he’d been the Gathendiens’ prisoner for a long time.
She shook her head. “Is there no hope of rescue then? No hope of escape?”
He sighed. “All of our attempts to secure our freedom have met with failure.”
She bit her lip. “Aren’t your people looking for you?”
Taking her hand, he led her to a soft patch of grass and sat down.
Ava sank down beside him and offered no objection when he wrapped an arm around her to keep her close. Perhaps he sensed her need for comfort.
“I don’t know,” he said at last. “I’m sure they’ve realized we’re missing. But they may not know where to look for us. They may think we’re still on Purvel.” He dragged his free hand through his hair, frustration painting his features. “I don’t even know how the Gathendiens captured us. One moment my brother and I were rock climbing not far from Runaka Point. The next we woke up on the ship with no memory of how we had come to be there.” He shook his head. “A Gathendien ship should not have been able to enter Purvel’s atmosphere without triggering alarms.” His brow furrowed. “Our defense network should have become aware of their presence as soon as they entered our solar system. Or even as soon as they neared our solar system. If for some reason we missed it—something that would’ve required a colossal failure on our part—I’m sure the Aldebarian Alliance would’ve warned us.”