Turning Point (21 page)

“Kusac, I need to stop the bleeding,” she said.

“I'll see to Kusac,” said Mito firmly from behind him. “You see to Guynor. Don't worry, Kusac,” she said as he turned round. “He's in no state to do anything. The Captain is dealing with him.” Her ears dipped slightly as she put her head to one side.

All this was lost on Kusac for he was looking over to where Carrie sat huddled against a tree with Skai. When the fighting had started, he'd had the presence of mind to grab her and haul her clear of the combat.

“Kusac,” Mito said softly, putting out her hand to touch him, but Kusac brushed her aside and walked over to the Terran girl.

He held out his hand to her. “Come,” he said.

“Just a minute ...” began Skai.

“Carrie, come,” he ordered, reinforcing the words with a mental command.

Carrie looked up, her eyes no less glazed with pain than his. She shivered convulsively and got to her feet.

Blood glistened darkly on his shoulder, running sluggishly down his left arm.

Kusac took her hand, holding it tightly despite her feeble effort to release it.

Ignoring the five pairs of eyes watching them, Kusac drew her with him away from the camp into the forest. He led her unresistingly back along the path they had cut only a few hours before—now an eternity—until they were far enough away not to be overheard. He stopped and turned to face her.

“We have to talk,” he said.

“Yes,” she said dully, refusing to look at him.

Kusac cupped her face in a hand now gentle, talons retracted.

“Look at me. Please.”

“Why?” she asked tonelessly.

“I need to see your face,” he said simply.

She looked up. He watched her eyes move across his face, taking in his Alienness, the aftermath of that bloody fight. Each second was like a death for him. He daren't listen to their Link for fear of what he would find.

“What do you have to say?” she asked at length.

“I wanted to talk to you, to get to know you as a person, to tell you about our Link, but we haven't had the time. We've been so busy for everyone else, both our races—No, by Vartra! Call it what it is, our species!—that we've had no time for ourselves. I have to tell you ... Oh, damnit!” he swore, turning away and pounding his fist against a tree. “Why is it suddenly so hard to talk to you?”

The silence lengthened until he thought she had left. He felt a light touch and turned round.

Ignoring the throbbing pain, he put his hands on her shoulders, looking at her closely. She seemed less distant. He still dared not touch her mind, dared not hope.

“Carrie, because of what I did when your sister died, the link we formed the other day, it ... it isn't an ordinary link.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

“Among our people, this Link makes the two people Leskas to each other. This I have told you.”

She nodded.

“I haven't told you the full truth because I didn't think it could apply to us, because we are ... different.” He took a deep breath and tightened his grip, making his talons extend slightly.

“I've been afraid for several days now that this isn't so. We are true Leskas.”

“I know.”

“No, you don't know! Leskas are life-mates, bound by something stronger than either of them. You and I, we're bound together ... for life. We. Cannot. Dissolve. The bond.” He punctuated the words by shaking her slightly. “Do you understand me?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, tears beginning to course down her face.

“Only death can separate us—the deaths of both of us, not just one. We cannot part from each other for long because it causes mental suffering.” He stopped, taking a deep breath.

“The bond is also sexual. It gives us a need for each other, flesh to flesh, mind to mind. The Gods alone know why, but they have made us one. Now do you fully understand?” He took a shuddering breath and waited for an answer.

“What do you want to do?” she whispered, the tears still falling.

“Want? I have no say in the matter,” he said, his voice ragged. “I cannot see you as other than my true Leska, my life-mate. May Vartra and the other Gods have pity on me, because I would have no other than you!”

Carrie looked down at the ground, aware of the weight of his gaze and of his hands on her shoulders. She knew he was telling the truth, not only because she could feel it, but because she'd worked most of it out for herself.

From the first she'd felt drawn to him in a strange fascinating way. Then she'd felt it change to something more. Was this truly what she wanted? Could she again have no say in the matter? It seemed not. She knew that two worlds not two people stood beside the tree. Could they, would they ... dare ... make that bridge?

When she spoke, her voice was a barely audible whisper.

“Then may your Gods pity me, too, because I seem to have no choice either.”

Kusac froze. “What are you saying?”

“That we aren't very different. That I find myself as drawn and bound to you as you are to me.”

“Then we will face the future together?” he asked, hardly daring to breathe.

“Together,” she replied, looking up at him and seeing again the person that he was as well as the Alien form he wore.

Kusac pulled her close, wincing at the pain lancing through him from his bitten shoulder. He lowered his face to hers and began to run the tip of his tongue across her cheek, finally able to admit to and express the emotions that had grown in him over the weeks he had known her.

Carrie buried her face in the fur on his chest, deeply breathing in his musky scent. She clutched at his back, running her hands through the soft pelt, aware of the strength of the muscles underneath.

Their link had reasserted itself and they were surrounded by the joy they took in each other's differences. Carrie turned her face to him, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was a first for both of them. She felt his start of surprise, then he relaxed, letting her take the lead.

“I never thought I'd find a mate so far from home,” he said at length, wiping the last of her tears away.

“I love you, Kusac,” Carrie said, rubbing her cheek against his good shoulder.

Kusac laughed, a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through his whole body. “I never hoped I would hear you say that, Leska. I still can't make up my mind if the Gods are blessing us or playing some cruel elaborate joke.

“I love you, too,” he said, laying his head against hers for a moment. “We must get back to the camp. You and I, we have work to do tomorrow, finding that life pod.”

Carrie sighed and reluctantly disengaged herself. She rubbed her hands together. They were sticky. Blood. Always blood.

“I know,” said Kusac, his ears flattening briefly against his skull as he took hold of her hands. “I'm sorry, but I couldn't let him touch you.” He gave a little bark of a laugh. “Look at me,” he said, “fresh from a Challenge and covered in blood. Hardly looking my best to win my mate, am I?”

She smiled, her whole face lighting up, and reached out to touch his cheek. “Don't,” she said. “I know.”

He kept her other hand in his as they began to walk back down the path.

“We will have plenty of time for us, I will see to that, don't worry,” he promised her.

“Your wounds!” she exclaimed guiltily, suddenly remembering them. She stopped and tried to examine his injured shoulder, but Kusac held her firmly away.

“I am fine. There is nothing that Vanna can't treat easily. I'll let her tend them as soon as we get back.”

“You promise?”

Kusac gave a deep, throaty purr. “I promise!”

 

Guynor was lying with his back to the fire when they returned, his bandages visible against his tan fur. His pelt looked dull and lackluster even from a distance.

“I don't think we'll have any more trouble from him,” murmured Kusac as they joined the others round the fire. He was vaguely surprised that he felt neither remorse for fighting Guynor, nor even an echo of his evident pain. Perhaps it was because his own was so great.

Vanna rose as they sat.

“Will you let me see to you now the important business is out of the way,” she said archly, with an openmouthed grin.

Kusac sat patiently while she clipped the fur around the wounds and examined them.

“I'm afraid this will take quite a time to heal,” she said, as she carefully swabbed the dirt out of the deep gouges and puncture wounds. “You shouldn't use your shoulder at all for several days: in fact I want your arm in a sling. I can't tack the tears together, they'll have to heal naturally.

“The ones on your chest and stomach aren't deep, thankfully. They'll heal fairly quickly.”

She finished off by spraying sealant over all the wounds and breaking open a sterile dressing pack.

Kusac's world was limiting itself to pain and tiredness. He was so exhausted it was all he could do to sit upright. He finally succumbed to Carrie's mental suggestion that he lean against her.

“Give me a hand with the bandage please,” Vanna said to Carrie, getting her to hold it in place.

“There, that should hold if you don't do anything too energetic in the next day or two.” She grinned again and sat down beside Carrie to dig in her first aid kit.

Kusac rose stiffly and went over to where Carrie had dropped her backpack.

Vanna gave the girl a sidelong look as she took out a hypoderm gun.

“So, all is now well with you and Kusac?”

“Er ... Um ...”

The Medic made a purring noise Carrie now recognized as a chuckle.

“I'm so glad that our barbaric Challenge ritual didn't cause trouble between you. Normally it isn't that vicious, but Guynor called the Blood-rite and that is to the death.”

“I know. Remember, you gave me the equivalent of your racial history when I linked with you.”

“At least you know that particular Challenge is extremely rare. Guynor had no right to Challenge Kusac at all. Telepaths can't be Challenged because of their Talent. There are too few of them, and the mental pain of combat is too great. How Kusac coped, and is coping, I don't know.”

“It's probably because of me,” said Carrie. “I have more—Talents Kusac calls them—than your people, and one of them is to be able to fight without sensing the pain my opponent feels.”

Vanna looked round and saw Kusac returning. “Just remember,” she said hurriedly, “despite what you saw in the fight, Kusac's a very gentle person.”

“I know.”

Kusac returned carrying Carrie's hairbrush. “I want to brush your hair,” he said, sitting down behind her.

“Kusac, you should rest,” warned Vanna. “We've all got a heavy day tomorrow.”

“I will, but I have to do this first,” he said, beginning to brush Carrie's hair with long but gentle strokes, giving it his total attention.

“I'm going to give you an analgesic and an antibiotic,” Vanna said, putting the hypo gun to his thigh. “The skin around your nose and eyes is too pale. You need to eat and then rest to replace the lost blood.”

He shook his head. “I couldn't eat, Vanna.” The brush was still.

Carrie turned around and took it from his unresisting hand. “What if I brush you and Vanna cuts some small pieces of meat ...”

Gratefully, he looked up at her, amber eyes dull with pain. “Please, it would be the next best thing to a shower.”

Carrie began to brush carefully, teasing the knots of blood and dirt out of the silky fur.

She felt his pain almost as strongly as he could and was working hard to try and block it, remembering what he had said about her sister. Not that she believed him, but ... He was trying to stop it from reaching her too but he was as weak as a kitten. Perhaps she could lessen it for him without actually experiencing it. She could try.

Gradually it began to diminish and she felt a sense of satisfaction.

“Do you think you could speak to Skai and explain things to him?” she said to Vanna. “I don't want him going xenophobic on us.”

“Already done,” said Vanna cheerfully, handing her a plate of small slices of meat. “He's talking to Mito at the moment. Oh, by the way, you put her nose nicely out of joint, Kusac. She really expected you to want her now you've bested Guynor. Serves her right, opportunistic little ...” The rest was lost as she moved away from the fireside.

“Kusac,” said Garras, leaning toward him. “I know you'd rather it were otherwise, but Guynor will face a court-martial for Challenging you. However, the charge he laid against you of Misuse of Talent is just as serious and will have to be answered.”

“I know, Captain. We'll answer it.”

“Good. I'll speak for you, of course. There are mitigating circumstances. Without your ...” he hesitated briefly, one ear flicking questioningly, “... Leska, we would not be able to locate the pod.”

Kusac's eyes darted to the Captain's face. Carrie felt his fear.

“I have come across a Leska pair before, lad. I know something more than the layman about their needs. As I said, I'll speak for you.”

He hesitated. “You're going to need all the help you can get, Kusac, you realize that, don't you? Oh, not because of anything you did or didn't do, but because it happened at all.” Garras inclined his head toward Carrie. “Her family is prominent on this planet and I'd be surprised if they didn't make a great deal of noise about your link. Then there's your family, or maybe that won't be a problem?”