John

John quickly lost sight of Fiksu as she melted into the trees, creating noises that rapidly sounded further off. Whatever beast he’d inadvertently called seemed to follow her, its beastly crashing shaking the trees around him. After stepping on a few too many branches and what appeared to be pinecones, John gave up the chase. His feet bled, and he had no woodsmanship to track her anyway. He hoped at least that she would come back and not leave him stranded.

With only meager moonlight and the distant glow through the trees on the horizon, John did the prudent thing and sat to wait. Still, his mind raced. There was no logical explanation for why Miranda wasn’t right there when he came through that portal. He can’t have been in the bathroom more than a few minutes, and he knew enough now to guess that in that time someone had snagged her and passed through.

He trembled with cold and fear, wondering if her fever had broken, or if she was incapacitated. That Motrin he’d poured for her - had it spilled? John had completely lost track of it when the portal pulled him through into the waterfall. Whether he’d left it at home or brought it with, it had long since escaped his notice, and just remembering it now wouldn’t do Miranda any good.

Sobbing quietly, John despaired. Beyond losing Miranda and knowing if she were safe, he was completely out of his depth here. None of the trees looked familiar, the creatures scurrying about looked like no rat or squirrel he’d ever seen, and the beast that had lumbered after Fiksu defied comprehension. There wasn’t even a familiar constellation in the sky.

An arrow thudded into the log in front of him and he looked up, frightened. Fiksu laughed at him.

“You left a trail anyone could follow with those bloody feet. Plus you stink like ape fear. Paka!” she spat. “You need shoes or you’ll shred your pads.”

Heart thudding, he replied, “Dammit Fiksu, why’d you do that? Thank God you’re safe.” He tried wrenching the arrow free to give it back. “I wasn’t sure you’d come back, ya know.”

She eyed him. “I didn’t come for you, ape,” she snarled, lips curling over her tusks. “You nearly got me killed back there,” she thumbed. “If I didn’t feel sorry for your daughter I would have left you alone to die.” Fiksu grabbed the arrow and yanked it out with an expert motion. “Come.”

Fiksu kept on walking, so John followed. “Uh, could you, ya know, slow down please? Just a tad? That stride of yours. And my feet,” he pleaded.

“No. I took care of the Zheunku, but we must move. Its mate may be nearby, and she will not be so kind.”

“There’s ugh,” John gulped, “You mean there’s more?”

“Keep yer trap quiet, yer walk quiet, and we might make it somewhere safe, nake te?” she whispered over her shoulder. He nodded.

They walked in silence for hours after that, John focusing on remaining quiet and keeping up. To his chagrin, he lost sight of the burning glow on the horizon. He felt sure that if nothing else had happened to Miranda, she’d try to find that glow. It broke his heart to resist the urge to yell for her, but knew that if he were injured or dead, what little interest Fiksu had for helping him might vanish, and his little girl would surely be…He didn’t want to think of that.

Though it hadn’t seemed to be an entire night, the sun began to rise, remaining lower on the horizon for longer than he expected. Perhaps in this world, the sun didn’t come all the way up in the sky. Night-time noises shifted from insects buzzing to what seemed like birds chirping, and other animal calls, taking on a wholly different life around them. His spirits rose slightly, though they stopped more frequently due to his exhaustion and concern for his feet.

Fiksu treated him by taking sap from some tree he couldn’t identify and smearing it liberally into his cuts. He winced at first, then the wounds grew cold and sealed up

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“This sap works a little at a time. Soon your body rejects it. Then you will bleed again. But for now it will work,” she explained. “Little Tai secret you keep now.”

“Thank you,” was all he replied, still marveling at how much better his feet felt. “Is it, is it okay now to talk? I want to talk.”

“Safer now, yes. It’s not as safe at night. The Zheunku mate must be far behind now,” she allowed. “But keep walking, and keep quiet.”

“Where are you taking me? I mean, it’s not really my place, see, but do you know where Miranda might be? Where she could have gone? I’m just so damned worried that…”

“I have no answer for you, John. I didn’t know you apes would talk so much. I take you to my village,” she said, and for the first time John saw a look of worry and disgust in her face. “I cannot help you, but they might.”

“So you’ll vouch for me? Speak for me? I’m just. Ngh!” he grunted, frustrated.

“Come, it is close.”

***

Miranda

Miranda watched curiously as the Tai drew himself up to his full height. He towered above her, stretching his limbs. He popped his neck and rubbed his face. He did not live, yet still moved as though he did. A dark shadow hovered above him, bound in some way she could not see.

“Tai-rasha? Are you hurt?” she asked timidly, unsure how to approach this thing she’d done. The Tai turned his head to see her, his eyes unmoving in his head. Deep in his unblinking vision, she could just make out a subtle purple glow, or refraction, in his pupil. Just there, and yet not. She could not read his face. He terrified her in a way her father never had.

“:I am da first ta die hea’?:” he questioned, his jaw hanging slack as the words built meaning into her mind. Each word came slowly, as if being taken apart, rearranged, and made sense of by something else.

“No!” Miranda exclaimed. “No. I fixed you. I took that away from you.”

“:You took…death?:” He looked away up the passage, then back to her. “:You…cannot take…death.:”

Miranda reached up at him, feeling strength in her action as her intent wrapped around his head and he leaned down to her. She touched his cheeks with both hands, feeling the cold, clammy lifelessness they housed. The shadow clinging to him peeled away as far as it could from the power in her hands.

“That woman had no right to kill you, Tai-rasha,” she said. :What gives you the right to undo it?: came the voice inside her head. The soft glow of her skin faded where her hands contacted the Tai’s face. She concentrated intently, willing change that did not come.

“:Stop that, please.:” His voice held no emotion even as his body shook. A low wail crept out of his mouth, like a breathless scream. The muted lightning of her veins rippled through her, but the Tai resisted. Miranda pursed her lips.

“There’s nothing left for me to take,” she acknowledged. “Why can’t I help you?”

:His spirit has already departed. I’ve told you this already. His Dream has ended,: Taelryx explained. :What we have done is an abomination.:

“I took his pain. I took his pain!” she yelled, focusing on the aching wounds in his body, feeling them in her own, just as the pain she took from the woman had lodged itself in her own bosom. “I need him to be whole, I need it. I don’t want him to hurt anymore.”

“:I feel nothing.:” he replied.

“You…you don’t? Tai-rasha?” Miranda pulsed into him again. This time, nothing came back to her. No pain, no anger, no suffering. No life. “What was your name? Before?”

His head twitched slightly from side to side as if trying to recall a long forgotten memory. “:My name…has been…Ruined.:” He twitched again. “:Tai-rasha will do.:” He stood there, motionless.

Miranda held up her hand for a handshake like she’d seen her father do on many occasions. “I’m Miranda,” she said, revealing her small fangs as she smiled. “I want to be your friend.”

“:This is…acceptable. Tel-drakka.:” He did not return her gesture, so she awkwardly withdrew it.

“Alright. Well, I don’t wanna be down here anymore. It’s cold and I’m hungry,” she said as she climbed up onto his back. He supported her legs with his arms while she clasped her wrists around his neck. “Let’s go!”

“:Yes. Mistress,:” he replied.