Page 44 of Tharn’s Hunt (Barbarians of the Dust #2)

WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU SPACE LEMONS, MAKE SPACE-ADE (OR JUST GET BONDED)

JACQUI

M orning starts with a scream.

Not the fun kind. Not the Tharn-has-discovered-a-new-way-to-make-me-see-stars kind. The panicked, something-is-very-wrong kind that jolts me awake with my heart in my throat.

I scramble upright, nearly kneeing Tharn in the process. He's already alert, his body coiled tight beside me, claws extended.

"What is it?" I gasp, fumbling for the tunic he made me yesterday—the one that miraculously survived the night despite his best efforts.

But Tharn doesn't answer. His head is cocked, listening to something I can't hear. Something in the mindspace that doesn't include me.

Another scream cuts through the air, followed by urgent voices. Female voices.

I'm on my feet in an instant, tunic half-secured as I rush from our alcove. Tharn follows silently, his presence a reassuring shadow at my back as we emerge into the main cavern.

The scene that greets us is chaos.

Women cluster near the sleeping area, their voices rising in panicked bursts. At the center of the commotion lies Mikaela, a thin sheen of sweat cresting her dark skin, her chest heaving with labored breaths.

Alex kneels beside her, fingers pressed to Mikaela’s wrist. "Her pulse is racing," she says, her nurse's training evident in her clipped, efficient tone. "And she's burning up."

I push through the crowd, dropping to my knees beside them. "What happened?"

"She just collapsed," Tina explains, her voice shaking. "We were getting ready for the day, and she said she felt dizzy, and then—" She gestures helplessly at Mikaela’s prone form.

I place my palm on Mikaela’s forehead and jerk back immediately. She's not just warm—she's scorching hot.

"She needs water," I say, looking up at the worried faces surrounding us. "And something to bring the fever down."

"I've tried giving her water," Alex says, frustration evident in her tone. "She can't keep it down. And we don't exactly have a medicine cabinet around here."

I glance over my shoulder at Tharn, who stands at the edge of the group, his expression unreadable but his posture alert. In the mindspace, I can sense his concern, a steady pulse of vigilance that's oddly reassuring.

" Firebloom ," I project to him, recalling how the herb helped reduce my own fever during our journey. " Would it help ?"

Tharn's gaze sharpens, and he nods once before disappearing down one of the tunnels, presumably to fetch the medicinal plant.

I turn back to Mikaela, whose breathing has grown more labored.

"We need to cool her down," I say, looking around for something we can use. "Is there any cool water nearby?"

"The bathing pool," Pam jumps up, already moving toward the tunnel that leads to it. "I'll get some."

As she hurries away, I notice Erika swaying slightly where she stands, her hand rising to her temple.

"Are you okay?" I ask, concern spiking.

She waves me off. "Just a headache. I've been having them on and off."

"Me too," Tina admits, adjusting her glasses. "And I've been feeling kind of... weird. Hot, then cold."

A murmur ripples through the gathered women as several others nod in agreement.

"I've been nauseous," one woman confesses.

"My joints ache," adds another.

"I can't sleep without having these crazy dreams," a third chimes in.

The pieces start to click together in my mind. Dreams. Fever. Aches. Exactly what I experienced before Tharn. Before the bond.

Justine catches my eye across the group, her expression mirroring my dawning realization. In the mindspace, I can feel her thoughts brushing against mine, tentative but clear.

" It’s this planet ," she projects. " It's affecting them like it did us ." I know Justine. She isn’t the woo-woo kind. And frankly, I’m not superstitious either. But how else can we explain everything else that’s happened so far?

Before I can respond, Tharn returns, a handful of crushed firebloom in his palm. He kneels beside me, offering the herb with a solemnity that makes my heart squeeze.

"Thank you," I murmur, taking the plant matter and turning back to Mikaela. "Alex, help me get this into her."

Together, we manage to mix the firebloom with a small amount of water and coax Mikaela to swallow it. She coughs, turning her head away, but we persist until most of the mixture is down.

Pam returns with a gourd of cool water and a piece of fur. "Will this help?"

"Yes," I say, taking the fur and dipping it in the water. "We need to cool her gradually."

As I place the damp fur on Mikaela's forehead, I become aware of a shift in the energy of the cavern.

The Drakav males have gathered at the periphery, their golden forms unnaturally still as they observe our ministrations.

Their concern radiates through the mindspace like heat waves, making it hard to focus.

I glance up to find Kol at the forefront, his amber eyes fixed not on Mikaela, but on me. In the mindspace, I catch a fragment of his thought—not directed at me, but loud enough to overhear.

" The unclaimed ones sicken ," he projects, his mental voice deep and resonant. " The dust rejects them ."

Justine's head snaps up, her gaze meeting mine across Mikaela's prone form. We don't need to speak aloud—or even through the mindspace—to understand the implication.

Neither of us is sick like the others. Not anymore. We've both been claimed by Drakav. And the dust, as they call this planet, has accepted us fully.

Perhaps if the other women were claimed too...

I shake my head slightly, cutting off the thought. It's not that simple. What happened with Tharn and me, with Justine and Rok—it wasn't just physical. The other women can't just mate with random Drakav and expect it to solve everything.

But we do need to do something. Looking around at the worried faces of the women, at Mikaela's flushed, pained expression, I know we can't just let this continue.

I take a deep breath, centering myself, drawing on the strange new confidence that has settled in my bones since leaving the group weeks ago on that reckless mission to find my sister.

"Okay," I say, my voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety in my chest. "Here's what we're going to do. Alex, you and I will stay with Mikaela. Keep applying the cool fur and give her more firebloom if her fever spikes again."

Alex nods.

"Erika, Pam—I need you to organize water shifts. Everyone needs to stay hydrated, especially those of you who are feeling symptoms."

They straighten, purpose replacing some of the fear in their expressions.

"Justine," I continue, "can you coordinate with Rok and the other hunters? We need more firebloom and any other medicinal herbs they might know about."

"On it," Justine says, already moving toward Rok, who waits at the edge of the gathering.

I turn to address the rest of the women. "I know this is scary. But we've survived a crash landing, a desert crossing, and living with aliens who communicate telepathically. We can handle this too."

A ripple of nervous laughter passes through the group, the tension easing slightly.

"We'll take shifts caring for Mikaela and anyone else who gets worse," I add. "No one handles this alone, okay?"

Nods all around, some more confident than others.

As the women disperse to their assigned tasks, I feel a presence at my back. Warm, solid, reassuring. Tharn.

" You lead well ," he projects, a note of pride coloring his mental tone.

I lean back slightly, taking comfort in his nearness without needing to look at him. " I'm making it up as I go ."

His hand brushes my lower back, a touch so light I barely feel it through my scale-tunic, but the warmth spreads through me, nonetheless.

" The best hunters adapt ," he projects simply. " You adapt ."

Coming from Tharn, it's high praise indeed.

The day stretches endlessly, a blur of damp furs and whispered reassurances. Mikaela's fever rises and falls like a cruel tide, never quite breaking but never spiking dangerously high again either. The firebloom helps, but it's clearly not enough on its own.

Other women begin to show symptoms too. By midday, three more have taken to their sleeping platforms, their bodies wracked with chills despite the cavern's warmth. Alex and Mira move between them with tireless efficiency, and I’m so happy they’re here. Their medical training has proven invaluable.

The Drakav respond in their own way. They bring fresh water without being asked, delivering it in silence before melting back to the periphery. They hunt with renewed vigor, returning with not just meat but various plants and roots that Rok assures me and Justine have medicinal properties.

And they watch. Always watching, their amber eyes tracking our every move, their postures tense and alert as if expecting an attack from an unseen enemy.

I'm checking Mikaela's fever for what feels like the hundredth time when I sense Kol approaching. His presence in the mindspace is distinct. So different from the others. It’s a steady pressure, like the weight of stone.

" Jah-kee ," he projects, using my name with careful precision. " A word ."

I glance up, meeting his gaze directly. Unlike most of the Drakav, who defer to Tharn when they need to communicate with me, Kol addresses me directly through the mindspace. It's both unsettling and oddly flattering.

" Go ahead ," I project back, keeping my mental voice calm and open.

Kol's amber eyes shift to Mikaela's prone form, then back to me. " The sickness spreads ," he projects. " It will claim more of your females ."

There's no judgment in his mental voice, just a statement of fact, but it stings nonetheless.

" We're doing everything we can ," I respond, a defensive edge creeping into my thoughts despite my best efforts.

Kol tilts his head. " There is... another way ," he projects carefully. " A faster way ."

My suspicion rises immediately. " What way ?"