My hand finds my waterskin in the dark.
The first swallow is—no exaggeration—complete bliss. The water is cool and clean and hits the back of my throat like rain after a drought. My body lights up with want.
I drink.
And drink.
I stop only when the skin slumps empty in my hand, and I realize I’ve just downed half of it in one go without thinking.
An unpleasant awareness slides down my spine.
This isn’t normal.
This isn’tnothing.
Something is wrong. Really, seriously wrong.
And I’m not the only one who knows it.
Through the narrow gap in the partition, I have a partial view of the main cavern. Firelight throws restless shadows across the uneven rock. Most of the other women are down, or pretending to be, making small restless movements on their sleeping mats.
Near the center, Kol gathers several Drakav warriors.
They form a loose circle around him, big shapes outlined by the glow of the fire. They’re using the mindspace, but the intensity is unmistakable. Shoulders bunch. Claws tighten on weapon hilts.
The discussion is short. Whatever decision they reach, they reach it fast.
Then they move.
I watch them leave in twos and threes, heading toward the tunnel that leads back out into the desert. Hunting party, I think automatically. We’re burning through more food than usual. We’ll need fresh meat, more firebloom, moresomethingto keep up with how much water we’re chugging.
They vanish into the tunnel one by one until the entrance swallows the last of their shapes.
One male doesn’t go.
Sarven stays.
He remains near the edge of the main cavern, halfway between the tunnel mouths and the line that marks off our sleeping area. His posture is its usual coiled-still: back straight, shoulders relaxed but ready, hand near his blade, as if he’s waiting for trouble to show its face.
His gaze drifts, tracking the shadows, the entrances… and then it stops.
On the gap where I’m hiding. For a long, suspended second, he stares right into the darkness where I lie.
I swallow, throat suddenly dry again, even with the water I just poured into myself. My heart ticks up, punching at my ribs.
I should look away. Pretend I’m not terrified.
I don’t.
Because the truth is, I am scared.
Really,reallyscared.
My body is doing things I don’t understand on a planet I barely know, with no hospital, no meds, no tests. Just a former nurse, a medical student, and a handful of dried herbs.
And across the cavern, braced against the wall like a living barricade, Sarven looks… unmovable.
Big and solid and watchful.
