Lina felt the skimmer wobble, and heard the slap of feet on rock, as I bounded over the side plank and went running off.
“We made it?” Lina croaked.
“We did,” said Arabel.
Lina sighed and closed her eyes.
* * *
Lina woke to something cool on her forehead. She blinked a few times against the light, before focusing on the face of a strange, tattooed woman. The woman was kneeling on the flat rock beside the skimmer’s side plank with her hand pressed to Lina’s brow. She was flanked by I and Arabel.
Lina tried to talk, but the woman held a finger to her lips. “Save your strength, dear.”
Strangely, Lina came to recognize the woman. She was one of the faces that the Great Tree had used to talk to her in her fever dream. The faces from Lina’s memories. Except this one. Lina had never seen this face until now.
The tattooed woman fussed and clucked over Lina for a long while, poking and prodding, scenting calm the entire time. She then produced a small white cup and placed it on the deck just ahead of where Lina lay. She pulled out a pouch overflowing with some kind of herb that immediately overwhelmed the pheromones in the air with its pungent odor. She gestured to Arabel for the bota bag.
“Tea,” the woman said, stuffing the cup with herbs and filling it with water. She placed it atop the heat exchanger that was still warm from their peat-fueled nighttime journey. “Drink when hot.”
Now that she wasn’t being poked at, Lina felt her eyelids growing heavy and began to drift. Still, she caught snatches of conversation in the air around her.
“Are you her mate?” the woman said.
“I?” Lina heard. “I am I.”
Lina smiled for a moment, imagining the confusion on the medicine woman’s face, and then grimaced as her stomach seemed to be tying itself in knots.
Lina reached for the bucket just in time.
“What has she been eating?”
“Lychee,” said I.
“Drinking?”
“Water.” Arabel’s voice this time.
“And these markings?”
“Bio-luminescent ink.” Arabel again. “From the gala. We have matching designs. See?”
“Mmm,” said the medicine woman.
Lina felt the woman’s hands on her again, this time helping her get into a sitting position, and pressing the warm cup of tea into her palms. As Lina drank, the medicine woman began probing Lina’s back, touching the skin of Lina’s neck, rubbing.
“Then, why do they not come off?”
“She talks to the Great Tree,” said I.
“Mmm.”
Lina struggled to keep her eyes open. “What’s in this tea?”
The medicine woman ignored Lina’s comment and turned to Arabel. “When did she last drink the royal wine?”
“Royal wine?” Arabel said. “Not since the gala.”
“That explains a great many things. You were wise to bring her here.”
“I say, bring medicines. Help Lina,” said I, clearly proud of the contribution.
Lina felt a spinning of her surroundings, and a strong urge to lie down—then the medicine woman’s strong hands helping her to do so.
“What’s wrong with her?” Arabel asked.
“Wrong?” the medicine woman laughed. “Nothing wrong, my dear. Oh, nothing wrong at all. Your friend is a young queen. She has started down the path of transformation. And now we must help her to see its end.”
“Bucket! Bucket!” Lina cried. She promptly turned her head and vomited again.
A scent began to fill the air that Lina was unfamiliar with. It immediately grabbed her attention with its urgency, but was fused with so much love and joy that there was no panic transmitted, only an invitation to come as quickly as possible to see something wonderful and new.
It wasn’t until just over half a dozen diploids crowded around the little cloud skimmer that Lina understood that she was the subject of the scent—she was something new to see and wonder over. Lina couldn’t help but smile and scent love, as those surrounding her from above began scenting the same.
Somewhere amid the joyful scene, Lina felt a dozen hands reaching down, holding her gently, tugging her out and lifting her up. Overhead she watched the scenery in a daze, changing from the dull and familiar underside of the skimmer’s roof, to the clear, bright sky. Lina closed her eyes against the sun’s rays, sensing its presence only through pink eyelids and the warming of her skin.
It wasn’t until the pink of her eyelids was dappled with shadow that Lina opened her eyes again to see the leaves of the forest canopy closing in. Light came down in shafts now, here and there along their journey. The diploids carrying her began humming in unison, a sound that mixed with the scenting of love to create a calm in Lina that she had never experienced before. Lina closed her eyes again.
* * * *
Lina opened her eyes to see the wide-eyed grin of her friend I, staring down at her. How long I had been there, Lina had no idea.
“Lina awake! Arabel want to know. I go get Arabel to see.”
Lina blinked, and I was gone. In I’s place was a young haploid with tattooed designs very much like those of the medicine woman. An apprentice, Lina soon realized, but how she knew that fact was still a mystery to her. Yet she knew it to be fact, and not mere speculation.
“How do you feel Your Highness?”
“Please, call me Lina.” Lina’s voice was deep and hoarse.
The medicine woman’s apprentice nodded once, and produced a cup of water for Lina to drink.
“I feel.” Lina paused to think. She wiggled her toes, toes that seemed such a long way away. “I feel taller.”
“You are much taller than when you arrived.”
Lina looked about, taking in her surroundings a little at a time—the roof of the tent covering her, noticing at once the tightness of the weave in the cloth, knowing the tensile strength of the wooden poles that held it up, the length of time the tent would last out here in the sun before the canvas would need replacing, how much longer that would last if the tent were moved into the shade. Lina’s head felt
