ZOLAYA

By the time we make it to the cave, Air-ee is sliding off my back she is so weak and exhausted. We are the first to arrive, so I settle her near the firepit and build it up while she clutches her furs and watches me with weary eyes. I set up a tripod and hang a pouch to warm up water for tea, then rummage through the stores here in the cave to find more blankets and supplies. The others will be here soon enough, but I will take what my Air-ee needs first. I tuck more blankets around her, and then while she sips tea, I cut out leather and begin to stitch crude gloves for her so she will not be so cold when we travel again.

She is silent, gazing into the fire. When I prompt her, she answers, but it is as if she has all of the energy drained from her body with that small bit of travel. It is troubling to me, because our home cave is many hours of travel away. Carrying Air-ee slowed me down, but if she was that tired from riding on my back, I wonder how long it will take for us to return, and if she will have the strength.

My mate is so fragile. She tries very hard, but she does not have the strength. It is as if it is being sapped from within. I watch her as I work. Her eyelids are heavy with exhaustion, but she does not sleep. Instead, she watches as the others slowly trickle in, moving toward the fire. The tension in her shoulders returns, and I can see that she twitches with every person that looks over at her. Something about them makes her worried. I watch them, too, but I do not see a problem. I only see tired, hungry females who want nothing more than to come out of the cold and a few disappointed hunters who have not resonated.

After dinner, the females settle down into piles of furs and go to sleep. The hunters are quiet as well, with Aehako and Rokan trading off watch duties at the entrance. Vektal disappears with his mate into the depths of the cave, no doubt to fulfill resonance once more. I wonder if my Air-ee would like to do the same. Not to fulfill resonance, but simply to get away from the others.

My khui hums and sings incessantly and I rub my chest, gazing at my mate as she stares dully into the fire. I cannot get past the idea that something here is very wrong. There is something I am not seeing and I feel as if I am failing my new mate. I start to get up, but Air-ee immediately lies down and turns on her side, closing her eyes.

I sit back down once more. Sleep will be good for her. Whatever thoughts chase themselves in my head can wait until the morning. My khui's ravenous need can wait one more day. Air-ee needs her rest.

I finish her gloves. They are crude things but will keep her hands safe from the biting chill of the wind. I stir the fire again, since the humans gathered around it still look as if they are cold, and make more tea for all. I keep close to Air-ee, because even if I wanted to leave her side, I could not. I cannot walk away from her. Not when my khui sings and sings and sings.

Eventually, all go to sleep and I lie down in my furs next to Air-ee. We do not touch—she will not allow that yet—but I close my eyes and keep my senses attuned to her. As I relax, she shifts in her bed.

A moment later, she shifts again.

And again.

I ease one eye open and see that she has moved flat onto her back, her knees bent. She puts a hand on her stomach and takes deep, long breaths. Even in the dark, I can see that she is trembling.

Her terror has overtaken her again.

For a moment, I feel helpless. I do not know what to do to help her. It is clear to me that she struggles, and she needs sleep. But as she breathes, over and over again, restlessly shifting, I realize she cannot sleep. There is something in her mind stopping her.

Wordless, I reach over and brush my fingers against hers, offering my hand.

At first, I think she will not take it. I think she will ignore me and continue to pretend to sleep. Instead, she clasps it and clutches my hand so tightly that it makes my heart ache for her. She swallows hard and swipes at her wet eyes with her other hand, then squeezes my fingers in a silent acknowledgment.

I squeeze hers back, just to let her know I am here. That she is not alone.

Her breathing slows. Even as her hand tightly grips mine, I can see that her body relaxes. It takes time, but eventually she is able to fall asleep, still latched on to my hand as if it is the only thing that keeps her together.

There is no sleep for me this night. I watch her instead, as if I can somehow figure out what is happening in her mind.

My fragile, brave mate.

* * *

Air-ee seems equally exhausted in the morning, with deep smudges under her eyes. I am concerned, but the healer is back with the tribe. Perhaps this is a human thing and she will get better given time. The other humans seem to be improving. After having their khuis for a day, their expressions are brighter, bruises are fading, and even Jo-see's broken leg is healing quickly. Everyone seems to be doing well.

Except for my Air-ee.

She twists the hem of her too-big tunic as she sits near the fire, listening to the others talk as a warm stew is ladled out for a meal. I am torn between wanting to hover over her and see to her needs, and giving her the space she wants. She sits with the females, but I notice she does not talk to them, only listens. Her hands tremble and when she wrings her tunic over and over, I worry that she is not as calm as she looks. It is as if she is trying very hard to seem like nothing is wrong, but there is tension in her shoulders, and I suspect it has nothing to do with resonance.

I feel as if resonance is the least of her worries at the moment, which is strange. My thoughts are consumed with her—of touching her pale human skin, caressing her body, peeling the tunic off of her and revealing her teats and tail-less bottom. Pulling her under me and making her mine. My khui hums and sings with a fierce song, and I can hear hers as well, but all she does is rub her chest and ignore it. I think of how she held my hand last night, so desperate. I do not know what to do. It is as if something boils inside her mind, waiting to erupt. So I watch, and I wait, and I hope I am wrong. I hope that she will turn to me later this day, take my hand, and lead me into the recesses of the Elders’ Cave so I can claim her as my mate.

After the females have eaten, Vektal and his mate Shorshie return to the group. I notice enviously that Vektal's skin is sweaty and his mate is flushed and disheveled. It is clear that they have been mating, and I look over at Air-ee with longing, but she is staring off into space, twisting and twisting the edge of her tunic. Her thoughts are not with the group. Her thoughts are not with me. I do not know where she is.

"Well," Shorshie says as she approaches the group. "If everyone's rested up, we should probably get you the language beam from the computer."

I do not understand some of her words, and it seems I am not the only one. "Language beam?" one female with a short yellow mane asks. "What's that?"

Shorshie taps the corner of her eye. "The computers here are a few hundred years old but they still work, and they have the ability to beam the sa-khui language into your mind. It's a red laser and it goes right through here and into your head. I don't know how it works, just that it does. I had it done a few days ago. Everyone else needs to get it done so when we return to the tribe's cave, there will be no problems communicating. The native culture here is very different from ours and we want to make sure there are no misunderstandings." Her cheeks turn bright pink and she looks over at Vektal, who just grins.

"Does it hurt?" another female asks, and as I watch, my Air-ee stiffens, her attention locking on to Shorshie.

"Not really. It'll give you a headache and it does knock you unconscious for a while though."

"Is it safe?" I am surprised to hear it is my Air-ee-aw-nuh who asks this, and her hands clench and unclench on the edge of her tunic. She looks as brittle as ice, my mate.

Shorshie looks puzzled by this question. "It seems to be."

"But the computer's old," Air-ee continues, a worried tremor in her voice. "How do we know it's a hundred percent safe? How do we know the computer's not going to burn a hole right into our heads by mistake?"

The others are starting to look concerned. Vektal looks displeased that Air-ee would ask such a thing, and Shorshie's expression turns into a little frown. "It's not going to burn a hole into your head," the chief's mate begins.

"But what if the laser is off its target? It's been here hundreds of years, right? What if…what if something goes wrong and it shoots the wrong spot in my head instead of the part that gets the language? What if it blinds someone or something else? Even people that have LASIK surgery still have complications. I've heard—"

Shorshie raises a hand and my mate goes silent. "You're just making trouble, Ariana. Let's not go down that road, okay? Unless you're a language savant, it's really in everyone's best interests to go in speaking the native tongue. Maybe you more than anyone else—"

"Me?" Air-ee makes a strangled sound. "Why me?"

Shorshie glances over at Vektal again. "Because you resonated, like me. Like I said, we want to make sure there are as few misunderstandings as possible. They're bound to happen given our different cultures, but speaking the language will help. And it's safe enough, I promise."

The chief's mate makes a convincing speech, but even more than that, her manner is reassuring. The other females were getting nervous at my Air-ee's questions, but Shorshie's calm eases their fears. Shorshie gestures at the group. "Follow me. We'll get this taken care of and you'll be back on your feet by dinnertime."

Vektal turns and follows his mate, a besotted expression on his face. I know that look. I imagine it on my face when I gaze at Air-ee. The other humans get to their feet, murmuring in low voices as they follow the chief and his mate into the depths of the Elders’ Cave.

All except my Air-ee. She remains frozen in place, her hand clenched on the hem of her tunic. She does not follow. From the doorway where he watches, Aehako gives me a curious look.

I move to my mate's side and touch her arm. "Air-ee?"

She gives me a stare of such intense terror that my gut clenches. Her face is as pale as the snow outside, her lips bloodless. "Zo, don't make me do this. I can't. I can't!" Her voice raises a hysterical note, and the others pause to look back at her.

The sound of my nickname on her lips makes my body respond, even though the moment is not an appropriate one. I fight back the groan that rises and move to her side, because in her terror, she has turned to me. She needs me.

I will not let her down.

I move to take her hand in mine, and she clutches my fingers tightly, her palm sweaty with fear. Her eyes are wide and terrified and I realize the mind-numbing terror has taken over her again.

Shorshie moves forward as if to talk to Air-ee, but I step in front of my mate and shake my head at her. I need to calm my Air-ee before anyone can touch her.

I turn to my mate and cup her face in my hands. I can feel her trembling and it makes my heart ache. “Come. Let us go somewhere quiet and talk.” I stroke my thumbs over her soft cheeks. “I will not let anyone harm you, this I promise.”

She gazes up at me, taking quick, shallow breaths, and for a moment I wonder if she is even hearing what I say. But then she gives me a shaky nod, agreeing.

I wrap my arms around her to steady her—and because I am feeling protective. I expect her to push me away, but she melts against me as if she needs my strength or the feel of my body. My khui begins its urgent song again and I nod over my shoulder at my chief and his mate. “Begin without us.”

I will find out what is bothering my Air-ee and I will help her. The time for observing is past. It is clear she needs more than I am giving her.

The time for that has passed, too.