Page 59 of Resisting the Alien Rider

I charged into Oaken’s home, coming through an entryway into a kitchen, then stopped. I had no idea what to do next. The mad dash here had given me some sense of purpose. Somewhere to go, something to run to.

But now, I had stopped running. And panic burned like acid.

I whirled around, clutching Magnolia tightly to me,as if merely by holding her hard enough I could make everything alright.

Through the hole of the damaged doorway I saw Oaken approach. In the clutching haze of my fear, I was startled to see that Killian was helping him. He’d tossed his lean, blue-green arm around Oaken’s bare green waist, letting my cousin use his smaller body as a sort of crutch. I dimly remembered Oaken shouting a hurried explanation at Killian as we’d taken off. Killian must have known that, at least in this moment of disaster, Oaken was someone to trust.

“Over to the cupboards,” Oaken grunted, hobbling and leaning heavily on Killian. Killian was so anxious to keep moving that he nearly left Oaken behind, leaving my cousin to hop frantically to catch up. When they reached a set of cupboards, Oaken released Killian and yanked the wooden doors open, shoving bottles and pots and plates aside, muttering madly under his breath. Then, a triumphant shout of, “Here! Here it is!” He tried to cross the kitchen back to me but quickly gave up. He pressed a small jar into Killian’s palm and Killian raced it to me without needing to be told.

My hands full, I grasped the jar with my tail and held it up to my face. Inside appeared to be a small collection of dried purple flowers.

“She has to eat them,” Oaken explained hurriedly. He grasped the wood-topped counter and used it to hop-haul himself over to me. Taking the jar, he snapped off the lid as I sat heavily in a chair. I adjusted Magnolia so that she was cradled in my left arm, my right hand free to claw a flower from the jar.

“Eat this,” I growled, hoping some part of her would respond to a stern command. She did not move. Did not open her eyes. Or her mouth. “Please,” I begged. “Sweet thing, you have to do it.”

“She has to,” Oaken reiterated gravely. In the corner of the room, Killian crouched, chewing viciously on a lock of his own hair. Something I had not seen him do in a long time.

I cursed and then shoved the flower into my own mouth. Then, I dumped the contents of the jar in my mouth, too, like I was draining the last large sip of a drink. Floral bitterness burst on my tongue as I ground the flowers to paste with my fangs.

I took Magnolia’s face in my hands, eased her lips apart, then pressed my mouth to hers.

I tried to strike the balance between slow enough that I would not make her cough or choke, and fast enough that I did not waste any precious time. I eased the paste and juice past her lips and flat teeth, palming her throat while I did it, massaging with a trembling hand.

“Come on…” Oaken murmured.

Beneath my hand, I felt it. The tiniest contraction. Once, and then again, a little stronger.

She swallowed.

I withdrew, keeping my gaze glued to her face. Her skin, usually so rich and warm, had taken on a lifeless tone. Her lips were paler, streaked with dark purple from the flowers. I probed those remnants with a tender thumb, trying to urge every last little bit into her mouth.

“She swallowed it. Now what?” I asked Oaken.

“Now, we wait,” he said. “We wait and hope it works.”

I leaned back in the chair, drawing Magnolia gingerly along with me until her little head was secured against the base of my throat. I rubbed my hands along her back, her legs. As if, as long as I kept touching her, she would keep breathing in return.

“What do the flowers do?” I asked. “Why do you even think they’ll work at all?”

Oaken raised his fist and brought his forearm close to my face. At first, I saw only the dark green of his hide stretched across corded muscles he’d not had when I’d last seen him. But then, I saw them. The twin pinprick scars of a bite.

“I think they’ll work,” he said, lowering his arm, “because they worked on me.”

“You… You were bitten by an ardu?”

Impossible that he could be standing before me now. And yet, he was. A breathless hope began to steal through me. I wanted so badly to latch onto it.

“Some cycles ago, yes. Just after I took over this property on my own and my warden left.” Oaken sat down in one of the other chairs with a pained grunt. His tail slithered across the floor, hooking onto a wooden crate and dragging it over. He lifted his right foot and propped it up on the crate with a restrained hiss.

“How did you…”

“How did I know to eat the flowers? I didn’t. No one knew about them.” He leaned back in the chair,removed his hat, and brushed hair the same black shade as mine out of his face. His eyes were a clear, calm green, a little paler than his hide.

“I was alone when I got bitten. The effects were swift. I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember feeling so sick, and feeling like if I didn’t eat something, I was going to die. I had collapsed in a meadow of those flowers. I think I was a little delirious. I started shoving them into my mouth.”

“And then?”

“And then I lost consciousness. When I woke up again, night had fallen. I felt like I’d just been trampled by a shuldu. But I was alive.”

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