Page 4 of Healer (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #4)

The potent dose of ephadreiline gave Agnes the strength to walk without stopping through the night and into the pale light of morning.

Although I expected her pitiful shoes to disintegrate at any moment, they clung limply to her dainty feet.

As the sun rose, we paused by a babbling stream and shared a meager meal of dried meat, tart berries, and crunchy nuts.

I would need to hunt soon if we wanted to sustain ourselves on the journey.

The jungle around us teemed with life. Thankfully, none that seemed predatory where we were concerned.

From what I knew of this planet, that would change the deeper into the jungle we moved.

I’d kept us off the known paths… that’s where the Ajani would expect us to travel.

Going overland would be rougher and take longer, but Agnes did not complain.

Her bright gray eyes traveled the landscape with a curious air, occasionally commenting on a plant or small animal that favored something from Earth.

Despite her demeanor, there was a delicate quality to her I couldn’t help but notice.

It was as if something fragile existed within her—easily shattered, or partially broken.

But she carried herself with a fierce determination and strength that surpassed many Vaktaire I knew.

The way she allowed the Ulkommanian to slice her arm without so much as a wince spoke volumes about her resilience.

Even now, hours after the ephadreiline should have worn off, she continued on without complaint, showing no signs of pain or weakness.

“Emmy mentioned you are a healer, like me.” I kept my voice low, wanting to break up the monotony of jungle chatter because, surprisingly, I’d like to know more about her.

Gray eyes flickered up to my face and widened in surprise. “You’re a doctor? A healer?”

“Yes, I am the resident healer on the Bardaga,” I said proudly.

“What’s your specialty?”

“Specialty?” I blinked at her, unsure of the question.

The corners of Agnes’ lips curled ever so slightly, forming a gentle smile that lit up her entire face. “On Earth, most physicians concentrate on one type of medicine. Mine was pediatric surgery... surgery on children.”

“Ahhh,” I issued a sound of understanding. “I forget your medicine is not yet technologically sophisticated.”

She frowned, still an adorable expression.

“You don’t do surgery?”

“Rarely,” I shrugged. “We heal most injuries and illnesses by manipulating electromagnetic waves.” I tapped the Medi-unit held in a leather pouch on my hip.

Agnes stared at the instrument for a long moment, then chuckled, the sound musical. “Your medical training must be a lot different from mine.”

I could only imagine. “Once someone enters the healing arts, we receive an implant containing anatomy and diagnostic files for every species in the Alliance.”

“Implanted?” Agnes tilted her head to the side, her silky hair falling over her shoulder. Her curious eyes locked onto mine, studying me intently.

I tapped the side of my head where the implant lay embedded just above the point of my ear. “Yes. We have a tiny microchip implanted, not much different from the language implant the Trogvyk gave you.”

“Implant,” Anges snorted. “I study for fifteen years, and you get an implant.”

I couldn’t help the chuckle that broke from my lips. “Getting the implant isn’t all there is to it. Once we have the knowledge, we must spend many years learning how to apply it, apprenticing with experienced healers.”

“How many years?” Agnes’ brows raised in challenge.

“My training lasted approximately thirty of your Earth years.”

Agnes made a sound—snort and laugh combined. “I take it back. You had it worse than me. I only had to learn one species, not hundreds.”

“Thousands,” I corrected.

“Show off,” she muttered, but with a grin.

“What was your medical training like?” I felt it was only polite to ask. Besides, I found myself curious. She was the first Earth healer I’d ever met.

Anges sighed, a look of pleasure softening her features. “Hard… stressful… wonderful. Looking back, it was the best time of my life, but if you’d asked me during, I would have told you it was complete and utter hell.”

“Yes,” I agreed with a degree of wistfulness. “I enjoyed my training years very much.”

“So, what does that little box of yours do?”

Her fingers lightly grazed the Medi-unit pouch, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I felt my muscles flex in anticipation, though I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what I anticipated. Was it her touch? The rush of adrenaline that came with being near her? Or something else entirely?

“The Medi-unit?” I pulled the small gray metal square from the pouch.

As designed, it reacted to my touch, humming while waiting for the pressure of my fingers to command it further.

“It can diagnose injuries and illness. Close and disinfect wounds, mend fractures, and remove foreign objects from the body and administer medications.”

As I spoke, Agnes’ hand caught my attention, her fingers opening and closing in a rhythmic pattern. It was as if her fingers had their own mind, and she remained unaware of the action. Was it nerves or frustration? I couldn’t decide, but it added to the mystery of Agnes and her enigmatic presence.

“Foreign objects? You mean like knives and bullets?” She tilted her head, a spill of blonde-brown hair falling over her shoulder.

“Yes,” I agreed, slipping the Medi-unit into the holster. “But it can also remove diseased cells, viruses, and bacteria from the body.”

Agnes froze, eyes widening with expectation. “It can remove disease?”

“In most instances, yes,” I said, watching her hand flex more rapidly.

“What about…” Her voice trailed off as her blunt white teeth worried her lower lip for a minute. “What about genetic disease? Illness attached to a person’s DNA?”

“That takes more capability than the Medi-unit possesses,” I told her, watching something that might be disappointment flash across her lovely face. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason, just curious,” Agnes shrugged. Her eyes, once fixed on me, now shifted away. I could tell that the flaws of the Medi-unit weighed heavily on her mind.

I opened my mouth to press further when a faint, growling grumble reached my ears. Agnes issued a soft gasp, her hand pressing over her stomach.

I couldn’t help but smile. We’d been eating my stash of dried meat and snacking on fruits and nuts I’d foraged along the way, but like the Vaktaire, humans needed fresh meat to keep up their strength.

I glanced at the heavy canopy, noticing the sun dipping toward the horizon.

I needed to hunt and find shelter. We both needed rest.

With a gentle squeeze, I released Agnes’ hand and tapped the screen of my wrist comm.

The familiar hum of technology filled the air as I programmed in the code to bring up a topical map of the planet.

A holographic image materialized before us, painted in shimmering lines of pale yellow.

It glowed with an otherworldly light, projecting a detailed depiction of our surroundings into the air, showing every peak, valley, river, and forest in stunning clarity.

Agnes’ eyes widened as she clutched my arm and leaned closer.

“Damn! My iWatch gives directions, but this is cool.”

“Eye Watch?”

“Earth’s primitive technology,” she chuckled. Her laughter poured over my skin like fresh, cool water.

“Here.” I pointed to a section of the hologram. “It looks like a small cave we can shelter in for the night. You can stay there while I hunt.”

“Hunt?” Agnes swallowed hard.

I felt my lips twitch. “Your stomach makes angry noises.”

Agnes’ pale cheeks flushed pink. “Yeah. I am a bit hungry.”

The journey to the cave proved quick and easy.

The small space, carved into a jagged rock face, blended seamlessly with the surrounding stone and vegetation.

I wrapped a handful of dried grass around the end of a stick and used it as a torch.

The flickering light revealed the cave’s spacious interior with enough room for us to spend the night comfortably.

Carefully scanning the area for any potential threats, my eyes came across traces of small creatures who posed no danger to us.

The faint scent of damp earth and moss hung in the air, heavy enough to drown out Agnes’ fresh, floral fragrance.

Working quickly, I built a small fire within the cave—it would serve to warm the area and keep smaller creatures at bay. I settled Agnes on a flat boulder just inside the cave’s entrance, pulling out a small knife that I offered to her.

“Do you think I’ll need this?” She swallowed hard as she took the blade from me.

“No. But I’d rather be safe than sorry.” I would not leave her for a second if I believed she might face danger.

Gray eyes regarded me with equal parts confidence and trepidation. “You won’t go far away, will you?”

As if following some unspoken command, I lifted my hand and let my fingers trace along the outer edge of Agnes’ cheek.

Her skin felt like Ardesian silk, impossibly soft, and touching her stirred something inside me.

A warmth spread through my body, igniting a feeling I couldn’t quite understand.

It was as if every nerve had come alive from a single touch.

Her beauty captivated me in a way that made it hard to peel my gaze from her, much less move from her side.

“I will be only a shout away,” I promised.

I didn’t like leaving Agnes alone. My need for her safety was something so deep inside that I barely understood it.

Still, without knowledge of the creatures possibly lurking in the foliage, it seemed the lesser of two evils.

The fire should keep away anything curious enough to intrude, and I would not tarry long.

I found suitable prey quickly. Small multicolored fowl unable to fly more than a few feet high crowded near a grove of berry bushes. I captured three without making a sound.

The sun had dipped low on the horizon, and the two moons fought for dominance in the sky as I made my way back to the cave.

“Anges.” I called her name, proudly lifting our dinner as I entered the cave, wanting her to feel proud of me for some strange reason.

Nothing.

The boulder where I left her was empty, save the small knife lying in the center.

I caught the whiff of her floral scent, even though the cavern stood empty.

The fire burned low. Perhaps she ventured further into the cave to find fuel to stoke the flames.

I dumped the birds on a nearby flat rock as I called out Agnes’ name again.

No answer.

I called again, raising the tone of my voice.

No answer.

Standing silent for a moment, I let my ears sift through the sounds from the recesses of the cave. A scurry of small feet, most likely a rodent, and the faint plop of dripping water. Nothing that sounded like Agnes.

Panic seized me, and I rushed outside, calling her name into the darkness. All manner of horrors traveled through my brain, from her recapture by the Ulkommanian to an attack from some unknown beast. All things I could have prevented if I hadn’t left her side.

After a few worrisome seconds, I spotted her standing on a precipice overlooking the river below.

Moonbeams danced off her blonde-brown locks, transforming them into a shimmering halo of silver.

She gazed down into the cavern, her hair and dress billowing in the breeze.

The moon’s soft glow bathed her delicate features, making her appear almost ethereal against the dark backdrop of the night sky, like a goddess suspended in time.

As much as I felt mesmerized by her beauty, her nearness to the cliff’s edge stabbed a shiver of fear through my heart.

“Agnes, please step back. You are too close to the edge.”

She let out a deep, heavy sigh, as if my presence had inopportunely disrupted the moment.

Agnes fidgeted, sling her arms about as though intending to move, but her delicate feet stood resolute at the cliff’s edge.

In that fleeting moment, it almost seemed like she contemplated leaping into the unknown depths below.

Perhaps in the growing darkness, she hadn’t gauged how close she’d come to disaster.

“Agnes,” I rasped, my voice growing gruff with concern. “If you fall, I’m afraid not even my medical technology can save you.”

A soft, melancholic smile curved her lips as she turned her head to look at me.

My heart quickened, and I held out my hand, willing her to take it.

After a second’s hesitation, her delicate fingers slid against mine.

A wave of relief washed over me, followed by a powerful surge of protectiveness that threatened to weaken my knees.

At that moment, I knew I would do anything to keep her safe.

Anything.

“Come,” I murmured, pulling her closer. “I found food.”

“What?” Agnes' voice sounded faraway, her mind dwelling on something other than dinner.

“Some type of fowl.” I pulled her closer still, something like worry nagging in my gut. A sudden horrible idea that Agnes might pull away from me only to rush back to the precipice and her death felt like the scrape of a sharp blade against my spine.

“Good.” Her smile seemed sincere. “I’m hungry.”

I led Agnes back to the cave, where we mired ourselves in preparing the food and settling in for the night. She talked little, her mind seeming bound to that faraway place held in her imagination.

A place that worried me for some reason.

It worried me a lot.