Eliana looked up at Ziv’ri. “Go to Dagon. The fighting should be over by the time you reach him. Tell him Ava needs immediate medical attention and see if they can land the shuttle on the island.”
Nodding, Ziv’ri sent Jak’ri a look of concern, then turned and dove into the water.
Jak’ri grabbed one of the hollowed-out fruit rinds they used as a bowl and moved toward the bag he’d dropped earlier. It only took a second to retrieve a canteen and fill the bowl with some of the fresh water he’d collected.
“Ava?” Eliana spoke softly.
As Jak’ri walked back toward her, she rested a hand where his had been and smoothed a thumb across Ava’s forehead, careful to avoid the cut that marred it.
“She’s been tired and sluggish for a few days now.” He knelt on the other side of Ava and dipped a cloth in the water. After squeezing out the excess, he draped it across Ava’s forehead. This was the first time she’d lost consciousness. It scared the srul out of him.
Ava’s friend extended her hand. “I’m Eliana.”
He clasped her forearm. “I’m Jak’ri. Ava has mentioned you often. She said you were the one who enabled her to escape the Kandovar before it was destroyed, that you put her in the escape pod.”
“Yes.” Releasing him, she took Ava’s hand. “I’m sorry it took me so long to find her.” She looked tormented, as though she considered it a failure on her part that she hadn’t arrived sooner with whatever reinforcements she’d brought. She mustered a faint smile. “To find both of you. But I was lost myself for a while.”
He nodded, wondering what she’d had to endure to get here and how she’d come to be with Ziv’ri. “She feared you hadn’t survived.”
“I nearly didn’t.”
He resumed stroking Ava’s hair. “What of the others? The other women from Earth? Ava has been very worried about them.”
Eliana’s throat worked with a swallow. “So far only one other has been found. She’s safe on Lasara. We’re still searching for the rest.”
The news would cause Ava great sorrow.
Silence fell between them. Jak’ri wanted to ply Eliana with questions: How had she come to be here? How had she joined forces with Ziv’ri? How had Ziv’ri escaped the Gathendiens’ clutches? And what forces had carried them here?
But concern for Ava kept him silent as he hoped those forces—whoever they might be—could help her.
Sensing Ziv’ri’s approach, he glanced toward the lake.
Water splashed as his brother strode out of the water. He was even thinner than he’d been back on the Gathendien ship and bore new scars. But despite that, he looked good. His eyes were alert. He didn’t breathe hard from his swim. And he walked with his shoulders back instead of slumping wearily.
“The transport was already hovering above the island when I left the cavern,” he announced.
Transport?
A large form encased in exo-armor rose up behind Ziv’ri. Water sluiced off it and obscured the wearer’s face until the helmet’s visor slid up.
Relief filled Jak’ri.
A Segonian. One with a somewhat familiar face, though he couldn’t produce a name.
“Dagon.” Rising, Eliana hurried past Ziv’ri and threw herself into the man’s armor-clad arms.
Right. Commander Dagon. Jak’ri had only seen him once or twice from a distance when he’d attended the Aldebarian Alliance war games.
Dagon embraced Eliana with a familiarity that bespoke a close relationship. “You’re all right?”
She nodded. “You?”
“I’m well. Ziv’ri said Ava requires medical attention.”
Again she nodded, worry pinching her pale features. “She’s injured and lost consciousness right after we arrived.”
The Segonian commander patted her back as more exo-armor-clad forms emerged from the water behind him. “The Ranasura arrived just as the battle ended. It’s positioned above the island now.”
The Ranasura? Jak’ri rose, but remained close to Ava as he turned to face his brother. How the srul did you end up on a Segonian warship?
Ziv’ri shook his head. Though I know it sounds absurd, the Gathendiens put me on it. They wanted me to commandeer it and seize the other Earth female. When Jak’ri just stared at him blankly, Ziv’ri smiled. I’ll tell you all after we help Ava.
One of the armor-clad warriors behind Commander Dagon raised his helmet’s visor.
Eliana greeted him with relief. “Adaos.”
“Dagon said you require a medic.”
“Ava does. She’s right over there.” She pointed.
The Segonian strode past her, issuing orders with the manner of one accustomed to being in command. His eyes met Jak’ri’s as they both knelt beside Ava’s pale form. “Chief Medical Officer Adaos of the Ranasura.”
“Jak’ri A’daar of Purvel.”
“How long as she been unconscious?”
“Since shortly after Eliana and Ziv’ri arrived.” Jak’ri stuck close to Ava, refusing to relinquish her hand when the medic retrieved a handheld scanner and proceeded to pass it over her still form. “This is the first time she’s lost consciousness,” he murmured. “But dizziness has been afflicting her of late and she’s been growing weaker every day since she was injured by the Gathendiens.”
Eliana and Dagon murmured to each other near the lake, but Jak’ri’s attention remained fixed on Ava and Chief Medical Officer Adaos.
Another medic came forward and knelt beside Adaos. Reaching into his bag, he withdrew a hover gurney that was only the width and length of a large data tablet. Holding it just above the sand, he pressed a corner. The board extended until it was long and wide enough to carry a Segonian warrior, then hovered in the air.
Adaos studied the scanner as results flickered across its screen.
Ziv’ri sank to his knees beside Jak’ri and rested a hand on his shoulder. Is it her wounds? he asked telepathically.
It was so good to hear his brother’s voice in his head again. I don’t know, Jak’ri admitted. I tended them as well as I could, and they don’t look inflamed, but… clearly something is wrong.
The silence stretched.
“Can you help her?” Jak’ri asked when he could take it no longer.
Adaos met his gaze and offered him a kind smile. “Yes. She will recover swiftly once we get her to the Ranasura’s med bay.”
Ziv’ri gave his shoulder a squeeze. You can trust him. He’s the reason I’m alive today.
Jak’ri met his brother’s silver gaze. And at last, the tension that knotted his shoulders began to ease.
Beyond him, Commander Dagon—who had removed his helmet at some point—pressed a kiss to Eliana’s dark, wet hair and rested his chin atop her head. “We’ll take good care of her, milessia,” he vowed softly.
Eliana leaned against him. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ava sighed as consciousness crept up on her.
Thank goodness. She’d been having yet another monstrous nightmare in which the Gathendiens had her at their mercy. In this one, she’d been strapped to a damn operating table again and they’d been cutting her open without administering any sedatives or painkillers. Jak’ri had been manacled to the table beside her, undergoing the same. And Ziv’ri…