Mira moves quickly, grabbing supplies, and Erika shifts to give us more room as Tina gasps between retches, her whole body shaking. I keep one hand on her back, trying to provide some stability, some comfort.
“Tina, can you hear me?” Alex asks. “Can you tell me what you’re feeling?”
“Hurts,” Tina manages. “Stomach—cramping. Really bad.”
Alex’s brow furrows. She looks at the vomit on the floor, then back at Tina’s pale, sweating face.
“Did you have any warning?” Alex’s frown deepens. “Nausea? Dizziness?”
“No. Just hit me. Was fine, then—” Tina gags again, but nothing comes up this time. Just dry heaves that look painful.
I glance at Alex, trying to read her expression. She’s concerned, definitely.
“Jacqui,” Alex says without looking up. “Can you let Tharn know we need him? Something’s not right here.”
Jacqui’s eyes go distant. “Already on it.”
“Mikaela, help me get her lying down.”
Together, we ease Tina onto her side on one of the sleeping mats. She’s shaking and pale, but the violent heaving seems to have stopped for now.
I kneel beside her, one hand on her shoulder. “You’re going to be okay.” But I’m lying. I’m not sure what the hell is happening to her.
Alex checks Tina’s pulse, then her temperature. I can see the wheels turning in her head.
“This doesn’t match the planet fever,” she says quietly, more to herself than to us. “The onset’s too sudden. Too violent. And she’s burning up. Her skin just went from clammy to scorching in seconds. This isn’t the usual sickness.”
“Could it be something she ate?” Mira suggests, returning with a waterskin and a piece of torn cloth that looks like it once belonged to someone’s sleeve. “Maybe another herb has made her sick?”
“Maybe.” Alex frowns. “Tina, what did you have today? Anything different from the rest of us?”
Tina shakes her head weakly. “Same... same as everyone.”
A large shadow falls across the partition entrance. I turn to see a silhouette. Features cast in shadow from the light streaming in from the cave entrance. Red eyes find me, but I already knew who it was. Stabby. Standing just outside the woven screen, his hand resting on his blade, those crimson eyes scanning the alcove for threats.
“Mih-kay-lah.”
The sound is raw. Tectonic. Like two continental plates shifting deep underground.
I freeze, the breath catching in my throat.
It’s the first time he’s ever spoken to me. I know from the others that it hurts them to twist their throats around our soft, vowel-heavy language, but he forces the sound out anyway. A muscle feathers in his jaw, tight with strain, as he pushes past the pain.
The translator in my ear pulses again.
“Safe?” he rasps, the word scraping out of him.
I can’t breathe.
I was hiding in here to avoid his gaze. I was worried about awkward eye contact and hidden meanings. But looking at Tina’s pale, sweating face, the reality of our situation slams into me. We are fragile here. We are breaking.
He isn’t.
He is seven feet of golden vitality, built for this harsh world. He is the native; we are the dying castaways. My reservations don’t matter anymore. If we want to survive on this planet, we need them.
“I—I’m fine.” I finally manage to choke out. Something rises in my throat. My heart or my pride, I’m not sure which. “It’s Tina who needs help.”
I can feel him hovering there, hand still on his blade, ready to eliminate whatever threat has arisen. But there is no threat…
