None of them have khui.
Before long, they will sicken and die. It’s too early to see weakness in my Georgie, but I have been feeding her and keeping her warm. The others lack the spark in her eyes. They look tired. Frail. One has a rattle in her lungs that speaks of sickness.
I think of the dead one in the snow, frozen. That will not become my Georgie.
I travel as quickly as possible through the ever-deepening snow. I clean out first the cave we slept in earlier this morning. Then I will travel further down the mountain and remove the contents of yet another. With luck, I might find something to hunt. I only have one water skin and many human mouths, though. The humans need everything. They are not equipped to survive, not in the slightest. Thinking about this makes me run through the snow even faster. Raahosh is out on his hunting treks, and his territory is near mine. I could head south, enlist his help, and together we could feed the sickly humans.
But it might take days to find him, and I will not leave my Georgie for that long. Not when she cannot fend for herself. Not when she could already be carrying our kit. Not when there are metlaks in the area and Georgie’s tribe has no weapon but snow.
I have no idea why or how they are here, but my protective instincts surge at the thought of my Georgie facing off with more of the rabid, unpredictable metlaks. I must teach her how to defend herself. One small step before the next, I remind myself. First, food and shelter for the humans.
By the time I finish gathering the supplies, both suns are disappearing into the horizon, the larger of the two moons is out, covering the sky. Snow has begun to fall again, and I return to the strange black cave that Georgie’s women are huddled in. The cave’s contents are strapped to my back, their weight heavy. In addition to the firewood and furs, I’ve also hunted a small dvisti that will feed all the hungry mouths for at least a few days if they freeze the meat properly. I’m exhausted from spending the day running, and I’m tired as I drop into the cave from above.
Frightened screams ring out as I do.
“Calmdn,” I hear Georgie tell the others. “S’Vektal.”
I drop my burdens to the hard, cold floor and stretch. My back pops, muscles aching.
“Fck owtall izzee?”
“Ithnk sevnfeet,” Georgie says, and I hear a hint of pride in her voice. She approaches me, and I see concern on her face as she looks at me. “Yewrgon lngtime.”
“I am well, sweet resonance,” I tell her. I caress her cheek. “Did you eat something? You are as small and weak as your fellow humans.” I look at the other five-fingers. They have taken all her furs and huddle against the walls together. They smell terrible, but they are also trapped inside this cave, so I don’t blame them.
“Eez askinifyewate,” the one with the shell in her ear says. “Sezurweak.”
Georgie makes a funny face, wrinkling her tiny, smooth nose. “S’frozn.” She looks at me hopefully and asks in my language, “Fire?”
I nod and pull her close to my body. I’ll make fire for her in a moment. For now, I feel the aching need to be next to her. My khui rumbles and begins to resonate in my chest at her presence. The anxiety I felt at leaving her disappears at the sweet press of her cheek to my chest.
One of the others makes smacking noises with her mouth at the sight, and Georgie’s pale cheeks turn pink. “Fckyew,” she says but laughs. “Eyelikhm.”
I breathe in my mate’s scent for a moment longer, then release my Georgie and move to the supplies I’ve brought. I create a small pyramid of wood and dung chips, and add a bit of the fluff that keeps my boots warm to use as tinder. The women all watch quietly as I begin to make a fire. When a spark lights on the tinder, though, and I blow on it to increase the flame, I sit up and see I have six weird, smooth faces peering at me with happiness.
“Fck eyelikhmtew,” says one.
They huddle near it for warmth as I put one of my kills on a spit to roast. I don’t understand their need to burn the flavor out of their meat, but Georgie has taught me she won’t eat it any other way, so burn it I must. At my other side, one with a long mane of pale yellow hair begins to cough again, deep, racking coughs that shake her small body.
Georgie grimaces and looks at me. “Medsin?”
I don’t know what she’s asking, but I shake my head. “Nothing I have can help her. It is the khui-sickness.”
GEORGIE
“What’s that word mean?” I ask Kira. “Cwee?”
“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug of her fur-covered shoulders. The others are bundled up to their necks in the furs, only their heads peeping out from the woolly coverings. I’m a little chilly now that I’m not the one bundled, but I don’t complain. How can I? This is the first time they’ve been warm in days. I’m thrilled I can at least do this much for them.