“No. There were four of us.”
“All were women?”
It figured that he asked. “No. One more woman and two men. The woman had been badly injured in the crash and died the next day - she had never gone to the city. Her name was Constance. She was so very young, a university student.” Addie shook her head. “We hadn’t been found for days. We had thought at first this planet was uninhabitable. One of the men, Eric, was also injured, but he managed to hang on and came with us to the city when Wynn’s hunting party discovered us. Eric eventually died of his injuries. He was very sick there at the end.”
Eric had died from sepsis. Sathe had plied him with fungi that caused drowsiness, but they hadn’t been able to completely ease his pain. He screamed until he’d lapsed into a coma.
“And the second man?”
Addie took a shuddering breath. “Hoban killed him. I don’t know why.”
“Was he strong?”
“Rashid? He was. He’d been one of the ship’s mechanics. Very capable.”
“A foreign male is a threat and a competition. I would have killed him too.” He didn’t sound remotely burdened with empathy or tolerance.
Addie didn’t want to talk to him anymore. If all For in his tribe were like Zoark, maybe she should send a thank-you prayer to the stars for escaping their settlement.
She raised her eyes and there it was, her crooked little teepee.
“It’s my home!” she exclaimed. “But you were supposed to take me to the sands?”
“We walked over the sands for a quarter of the way here. Did you not notice?”
She didn’t, too preoccupied with her memories.
“Nope,” she said lightly, covering up annoyance at herself for having paid little attention to directions. Again.
Too much was on her mind, and Zoark’s presence, his questions that evoked the past, had proved too much of a distraction to memorize their route.
And now, it was simply good to be home. With a burst of renewed energy, she rushed to the teepee and saw that her pot with the tuber juice stood where she had left it, untouched. She raised it to her lips and greedily gulped down the liquid, relishing the slide of the juice down her throat. She licked every droplet of it from the pot and sucked the tuber flesh until it was dry.
Zoark was watching her intently and with a thinly veiled disdain. He had come closer and his For eyes skipped over her teepee. It was a ridiculously pathetic structure, but he said nothing. Instead, his hand landed on its side and rubbed the exquisite pelt.
“Sathe?” he asked.
Addie placed her hand on the other side of the teepee. “Yeah. Sathe.”
They ended up sharing an impromptu moment of silence for Sathe’s lost life. Funny how Sathe connected them in a distant, twice removed way. They had both known her, shared their separate lives with her, at different times.
Addie dropped her hand. “Thank you for bringing me home.”
At first, he didn’t reply, scrutinizing her with his deadened eyes.
“Stay away from my tribe, Addie,” he finally said. “You won’t find what you’re looking for from our men.”
She frowned. “Men? What do you…”
Humiliation lit her up from inside out like a flare. She wanted to lash out at him in indignation, but what could she say? That she wasn’t like the women from the city? That she despised Iolanthe and the others sleeping with For males indiscriminately? That she’d rather live here alone for the rest of her days, eating tasteless tubers and chasing Hicar bugs, than spread her legs for an animal like him?
She straightened her back. The top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulder.
“I am sincerely thankful that you came all the way here as my guide. That is all. Take care, Zoark.”
She went in and meticulously tucked her teepee flap closed.
Chapter 7
