She could do it again.
Chapter 15
MogensledEllardintoa large cabin.The gel-bed sat against the far wall, bolted in place in case of space mayhem.An herbal scent perfumed the cabin, no doubt wafting from the bunches of dried flowers and plants hanging from a drying rack.A series of cupboards and drawers—of different sizes—covered the other wall, all fixed and guarded against movement from the ship.
Ellard knew his arm was bad.Yes, the stump had healed after the plant incident, thanks to the rapid healing powers that came from his feline heritage but it appeared ugly.He knew they couldn’t attach another Stores and had doubts about alternatives.Then he needed to consider the cost.The installation of his Stores had wiped out his savings.
“Sanitize first,” Mogens instructed.
Ellard gave a clipped nod.Since their arrival, he’d become friends with Ry Coppersmith’s crew, but Mogens always held himself aloof.He spent his cycles in his medical lab or out in the forest collecting herbs and berries and visiting Kelvin, the tremin shifter in mourning and stasis, not far from Jarlath and Keira’s farm.And when necessary, he treated Ry’s crew and, more recently, the castle residents, both royal and staff.
“Hurry or I will bite you.”A ribbon of white twirled across Mogens face, dissolving into the dove-gray.
Ellard felt his mouth dropping open as he gaped at Mogens.“Your teeth aren’t sharp enough to do real damage.”
Mogens chuckled, the sound resembling a fly-mo in need of maintenance.“You should see your face.Please sanitize, and I will do my best to aid you.”
“I should be used to Ry’s crew by now.”
“We do our best to entertain.”Another streak of white turned Mogens’s face paler.Ellard recalled Gweneth telling him a pale Mogens indicated happiness.If his face turned charcoal gray or black, things in his world had taken a turn for the worse.
Ellard stripped off the tunic he’d pilfered on the reiver ship, awkward and resigned.He’d allowed himself to believe he could have a life with Gweneth, but he hadn’t been able to deal with Malasses.Gweneth had managed to save them all.His lack of an arm presented difficulties in his everyday life.He couldn’t…
He broke off the thought to struggle from his boots and the rest of his clothing.He stepped into the sanitizer, the warmth and pressure from the cleanser nozzles easing the tenseness in his muscles.He stood there for several mins, letting his mind drift while he enjoyed the sensation of being clean and safe.Then, aware Mogens waited for him, he switched on the drying function.
“Finished?”Mogens called.
“Yes.”Naked, Ellard padded into the main cabin and came to a halt in the middle of the floor space.A satchel sat on the corner of the gel-bed, the contents open to his view.Small vials and bottles glinted under the light.
“Ah,” Mogens said, and he circled Ellard.“Bruises.This cut appears infected.”He traced the cut along Ellard’s ribs, one Malasses inflicted with his horns.
“The Kiraxes attempted to gore me.”
“Their horns have poison.I can treat that.Sit on the corner of my gel-bed.I’ll treat the cut, then take a look at your stump.”
“It’s not good.”
Mogens met his gaze.“No, the arm will be problematical.”
Ellard dipped his head in acknowledgment, glad the medic didn’t attempt to lie.The foul-smelling salve Mogens placed on the cut made him sneeze, but the instant it contacted his skin, the faint burning that had plagued him ceased.
“Your feline genes will heal the rest,” Mogens said.“Now let me take a look at your arm.”
Ellard gritted his teeth while the medic probed his stump.
“Fascinating,” Mogens said.“I can see the replacement medics’ attachments, but your feline has healed over them.They sit below the skin.How did this happen?”
“I got caught in a plant.It attempted to eat me, and between that and my shift to feline, I lost my Stores.The plant produced this sap stuff that burned skin, and my Stores didn’t stand up well to it either.The sap pitted the surface from what I saw.”
“Your feline genes saved your life,” Mogens said.“If the dissolving had continued upward as far as the stump, you might have died.”
“They told me the chances of the Stores failing were low.”
“And the installation could never be duplicated,” Mogens added.“I did some research.”
“No, it’s something to do with the way they fit the arm.”A lump grew in his throat and he had to swallow when he wanted to hit something.The Stores had given him mobility and made him feel more normal.Once he’d had the Stores installed, most people didn’t notice his lack of an arm.Now, he’d have an empty sleeve, and for the rest of his life, he’d have to struggle with his handicap.
“I will do more research,” Mogens promised.“There must be something we can do for you.Meanwhile, I can make a salve for your stump.Although it has healed over, the surface is jagged, and I suspect it is tender.”
