I’m already imagining my life here, integrating with the Scorp-Blood tribe. But, if my triad do not survive the battle today, then there’ll be no one here to make this planet a home for me.
I know that Darok did not answer my question about being able to beat the other triad for a reason. He doesn’t want to say the words that will break my heart: That he knows they’ll lose.
I can’t watch this. If the triad are going to die, I can’t watch it happen right in front of me.
I force the thought back. I need to support them, even if I’m struggling to deal with what I face. If Forn, Hadone and Darok kill the other triad, I’ll have to watch the men I’m falling in love with – the men who have given me thousands of years of life – turned into brutal, murderous beasts.
But the alternative is even more horrifying.
I don’t know whether I would really use the Orb-Dagger against the other triad, or merely press it against my own throat. The thought of thousands of years of life, knowing what I’d lost, would be torture.
I need to solve the sickness – to cure the tribe! I need to prove that I was brought here to save my triad’s people. Surely then the Orb-God they worship will not smite me down – not if I save the lives of hundreds.
I swallow hard. I can’t even imagine what this Orb-God even looks like, let alone guess at the thoughts that might exist in such an ancient, otherworldly mind. Being judged by such a creature – perhaps a true deity – is something I’d thought might only happen when I died.
To face such a thing in my lifetime is almost as scary as watching the men who’d saved my life meet their ends against a brutal foe.
I keep thinking over and over about the disease – the sickness plaguing this tribe. That’s the key. The only way to fix all this is the find the cure.
But what could possibly cause this sickness?
“How did those three not get sick? The fish-eaters? Or did they just heal up quickly?”
I know that Darok doesn’t want to think of his impending battle. There’s a defeated resignation to him.
“They did not get sick,” he eventually explains. He shrugs: “I suppose the fates protect the worst of us. That is the way of this life.”
Why didn’t they get sick? Why, why, why?
My heart pounds faster and faster and I start to feel dizzy with anxiety. Darok sees my fear and wraps his huge arm around me, pulling me close. He seems more certain now – as if he has to be strong to protect me. I know that my vulnerability is bringing out his will to fight – to survive.
I stare down the waterfall and see a beautiful deer slowly walking into the open. It looks around, as if it fears that something might be near.
I am not like that deer.
I clutch the hilt of the dagger. If my triad is unable to defeat the fish-eaters, I’ll not submit easily to the fate their victors have planned for me.
The deer snuffles against the ground, searching for food. I watch as it reaches forward and nibbles on something. Suddenly, I want to get close to it. I slowly get down from the cliff, moving with tiny movements so that the beautiful creature will not be alerted to my presence.
Darok watches curiously from on top of the waterfall as I lower myself down.
I feel like I’m in a trance as I walk towards the beautiful creature. I’m just ten feet away when it suddenly looks up at me and bolts away, and I get a sudden feeling of deep loss.
I don’t know why I wanted to touch the deer so badly – but now it’s gone, slipping through my fingers like sand.
Tears spring to my eyes as despair hits me. The deer was just a distraction. I was trying to keep my mind off the horrible inevitability – that my three beloved Aurelians are going to die.
There’s a small hole from where the deer was looking for food. I stare into it and see a black mushroom. There’s something about it that suddenly makes me pause.
“Darok, come here,” I shout up. He dives into the water, his body lean and sleek as he slides through the icy water below without even a splash. Eventually, his head breaks the water and he swims over to me. He makes a striking sight as he emerges from the water, the drops sliding down his gorgeous abs and muscles. It’s enough to make me lose my train of thought for a moment.
I shake my head to get my lustful thoughts from my head. I can remember every precious second of last night, and don’t want to imagine that those might be the last memories we ever make together.
“Darok, have you seen these before?”
He shakes his head, looking at the mushroom. I reach forward and pick it up. Suddenly, it bursts into spores – like a balloon filled with powder popping.
The black spores fill my lungs and I start hacking and coughing. Darok grabs me, picking me up and rushing me away from the spewing mushroom.
I cough so hard that my vision starts going black. I wretch and hack and cough, and see blood and blackness covering my hand as I pull it from my mouth. My stomach feels horrible – like daggers have been plunged inside of it.
I suddenly realize something. The deer was eating that mushroom!
My mind clears as I breathe in fresh air. Suddenly, it all makes sense. The fish-eating triad never got sick because they never ate
