Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine by Jeanne G'Fellers (reading tree TXT) 📗

know much Taelach, sister, but I do know when I’m being sworn at in any language. You should be ashamed.”

“I take no credit for what I say in pain or passion,” she growled, her teeth clenched.

“I’ll remember that.” Trazar placed a light bandage over the incision site. “It’s finished. I don’t believe I ever heard such colorful metaphors from a woman’s mouth. Where’d you learn those words?”

“Auts.”

“That so?” Trazar wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or amused. “What about the Taelach swears I heard? I’m fairly sure one of them concerned my mother, who, by the way, is your mother, too.”

“I told you I take no credit, but I do apologize. Just, please, leave my leg alone. It’s throbbing into my hip.” She thought of the inhaler.

“I’ll leave it alone for a while.” He brought her a water bottle from the food stores. “Forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” LaRenna accepted his gesture, pulling from the bottle to coat her throat. Trazar waited until she’d finished then held up several tins and airtight packs for her approval. “They’re marked in Taelach. You’ll have to translate if you want a decent meal.”

“Open everything except the green-topped pack. That’s pickled sponge fish.” LaRenna wrinkled her nose. “Disgusting stuff.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Trazar opened the tins with his dagger and set them before her. “You’ll have to use your fingers. I can’t find any tableware.”

“Fork tines and spoons are Autlach conveniences,” she said, amazed by how little most Autlachs really knew about their closest cousins. “We only use them around Auts. At home we use our knives. I thought everyone knew that.”

“Not everyone,” he countered, embarrassed. “Don’t you eat soups and stews?”

“Sure. We drink them from a sipper bowl then use our knives to retrieve what sticks in the bottom.”

“Now I know why even the youngest Taelach children carry blades.”

“That, and old fears.” LaRenna took the dagger from him and pointed at the array. “Dig us some preserved black bread from the crate and I’ll dish you up whatever you want.” Trazar found the bag and handed her one of the small precut slices.

“I’ll take some of whatever that is in the oblong tin.”

LaRenna deftly layered a piece on the bread. “Here, it’s roast bandit beast.”

“I’ve never seen bandit beast cooked that way.” Trazar took a small bite. “The color is odd.”

“It’s been cooked in rangleberries. Hence the bluish color.”

“Oh.”

They made quick work of that tin and four more of various Taelach staples. Trazar ate ravenously. LaRenna merely picked, more to keep him company than for her appetite. She was coughing more deeply as the day progressed, every hack grabbing at her sides.

He was tossing away the empty containers when a series of coughs cut her breathing short. “I believe the rain has left you with pneumonia.” Trazar helped her settle onto the bedroll when the worst was over.

“I’m afraid so.” Truth was, she had felt the fluid building long before their rain-soaked ascent. Brandoff’s kick had caused her to inhale some of her own vomit, setting in an opportunistic infection of a type Taelachs seldom incurred.

“You’re burning up.” He retrieved several bedrolls from the crates and stacked them into a reclining wedge for her comfort. “Sleep. That’s an order, not from a superior, but from an older, wiser brother.”

“You’ll get no objection from me, on any count.” LaRenna closed her eyes and drifted off. Trazar sat with her a while then took an armful of light rods to the main cavern entrance, spacing them at regular intervals across the mouth. It was a feeble signal at best but the most he could hope for as long as the rain persisted.

Trazar held his hand into the rain as he pondered the dramatic twist his life had taken. LaRenna filled an ever-present void in his life. The pure coincidence of their meeting made him wonder if it had always been part of the Taelach Maker’s grand plan. LaRenna relied on him. That, he decided, was why he had been placed here. By helping her, he would help bridge the gap between the Taelach and Autlach, proving that families could exist in harmony no matter their makeup. He wouldn’t fail. LaRenna couldn’t die.

Chapter Thirty-One

We cannot choose whom we love. The heart acts independently of the greater senses when making such attachments.

—Elder wisdom

“Where’s your mourning sash?” Chandrey asked Krell as the recovery teams assembled on the landing deck. She knew Ockson had provided the guardian with one and was disappointed it was not draped across her shoulder.

“I threw it away,” replied Krell. “It’s not necessary.”

“Not necessary?” stammered Chandrey. “How can you honor her memory without it? You can’t free her ashes to the winds. It’s a sacrilege!”

“She’s not dead,” insisted Krell. “Firman, Tatra, and I intend to find her.”

“How—” Chandrey quelled her words when Belsas called the confused deck to order.

“You’ve all been given your duty assignments.” The Taelach of All spoke reverently from the top step of a maintenance riser. “The crash site has been tracked to the Glory Lands. The area is currently blanketed in heavy storms, resulting in the widespread canyon flooding typical of this season. A base camp will be set up at the search area’s center. All teams will report to me on a daily basis. There are to be no heroics. This is a recovery operation only. Teams from the Training Grounds will canvass the outer perimeter of the search area. Are there any questions?” Shuffling feet and shifting equipment echoed on the otherwise silent deck. “Very well, all crews are to report to their designated launches.”

When the teams scattered, Krell dashed away before Chandrey could ask more questions. Firman and Tatra caught up with her at the launch. They were garbed in heavy climbing gear, Tatra with a small medical pack strapped to her waist. “Here.” She tossed Krell a rolled jumpsuit. “That should fit.”

“Thanks.” Krell slid the suit on. Despite the size, it was still short in the leg. She snorted at