She explodes in my arms. “No! Not want! I repair!” She kicks and writhes and tries to punch me, acting like a captured rekh pup.
But I hold her firmly. “It’s all right, Dorie. You’re safe here. I will protect you. No krolt will get you.”
Dorie keeps thrashing for another little while, but then the energy goes out of her and she sags in my arms, sobbing. “I want… it not work… I try, many days… not work and now dark… I want to go home… I want to go home… Callie, I’m sorry…” She starts babbling helplessly in her own language.
“You will fix it,” I say calmly into her ear, holding her tight. “But you don’t need to fix it right now. Aker’iz and I will help you. We’ll help you with anything you want. You will never go into the jungle again. No krolt will come here.”
She tenses up and lets out a wail so sore and full of despair that it breaks my heart.
I let her howl her fear and anger for a while until she turns in my arms and presses her face to my chest, her whole little body shaking with sobs. “Why they take me here… whyme…”
I decide that Aker’iz might not need to see this, so I sit down with my back to the wall and place Dorie on my lap. “That’s all right. All warriors know the feeling.”
“I’m not warrior,” she sobs. “I only hit lucky with the spear. I not good. Just luck.”
I squeeze her. “Of course! Unlucky warriors don’t survive their first fight. You’ve survived many.”
It takes a while for her to get to her senses, but I think she needed this.
She leans back and strokes my chest with her fingertips. “You’re all wet now.”
“Good,” I reply. “A true warrior knows grief.”
She looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “You really think I’m a warrior?”
I tilt my head. “You really think you’renota warrior?”
She wipes her eyes. “I never want to fight a war. I only fight the Bigs because I have to.”
“Any good warrior will say the same.” I put my hands under her and stand up, lifting her with me, curled up at my chest. “Fighting is the last thing we want. But the jungle forces us. I have to check on Aker’iz.”
Outside the ship, I set Dorie down. “I think it’s about time we try to start that frit still your friends left.”
“You do that,” she says with a final sniffle. “I’ll play with Aker’iz for a while. Girl talk.”
She walks over to the playpen. Aker’iz sees her coming and squeals with glee, reaching out her chubby arms.
Dorie steps into the pen and sits down next to the baby. “Greetings, chief.”
The sight warms my chest.
Ah!This may be the time.
I get the item and walk over to the playpen. “Here is the true proof that you’re a warrior. I’ve had it for a while, but I didn’t know if you wanted it.”
Dorie looks up at me. “What?”
I place it around her neck and tie it closed. “That should never come off. Anyone who sees it will know that you’re a true warrior.”
She looks down and touches the necklace, made from a strong strand of rekh skin. “The claws from the drok!”
I give her a tight smile. “You killed it. It’s appropriate to display your skill and bravery.”
She stands up and embraces me. “Thank you. It means a lot.”
I squeeze her back. “It does. Not many tribesmen have taken down a drok. Anyone who sees you will know you are an accomplished hunter and fighter. Perhaps one day, evenyouwill see it.”
“I think I see it now,” she tells me, sniffling a little again. “Thank you for making me feel better.”
