She smiled slightly. "Lucky you."
"Indeed." Despite everything, I found myself returning her smile.
The ground trembled beneath us, a brief but violent shudder that sent us stumbling. Rivera's grip tightened, keeping me upright as a nearby fissure widened, releasing a cloud of steam.
"That's getting worse," she observed, tension in her voice.
"Hammond's drilling." I forced myself to straighten. "We need to keep moving."
Each step became an exercise in will. Put the foot forward. Shift weight. Ignore pain. Repeat. The landscape blurred around me, details lost to the fever and exhaustion. Only Rivera remained clear – her face set in determination, her markings occasionally brightening as she used her abilities to detect safe passages through the increasingly dangerous terrain.
"There," she said eventually, pointing to a formation of rocks that created a natural shelter. "We can rest there."
The final steps to the shelter took everything I had. As soon as we reached it, my legs gave out completely. Rivera lowered me against the rock wall, her concern flowing through our bond.
"Your wound needs cleaning," she said, examining my shoulder with gentle fingers.
I didn't resist as she carefully removed the makeshift bandage. The pain had dulled to a throbbing ache, which I knew was a bad sign. I caught her flash of alarm at the sight of the injury through our bond.
"That bad?" I asked.
"I've seen worse," she lied, reaching for her pack. "I'll use the rest of the filtered water to clean it."
The touch of the cool water against the inflamed skin made me hiss. Rivera worked methodically, her fingers gentle despite their urgency. I watched her face as she concentrated, the silver markings along her collarbone pulsing softly.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
She glanced up, surprised. "For what?"
"Not leaving me behind. It would have been the logical choice."
Her hands stilled. "That was never an option."
The simple statement carried weight beyond the words themselves. I felt the truth of it through our bond – her absolute refusal to abandon me, despite the danger, despite the urgency of their mission.
"Rest," she said, applying a fresh bandage made from torn fabric. "I'll keep watch."
I wanted to protest, to insist I could stay alert, but my body betrayed me. Exhaustion pulled at me, dragging me down into darkness. The last thing I saw was Rivera's face, concern etched in her features as she settled beside me.
I woketo darkness and pain. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was or what had happened. Then Rivera's warm presence registered through our bond, and memory returned. The ruins. Hammond. Our desperate journey.
She sat at the entrance to our small shelter, silhouetted against the night sky. The twin moons cast enough light to see her profile, her head tilted back as she studied the stars.
"How long?" My voice came out as a rasp.
She turned, moving to my side immediately. "About four hours. How do you feel?"
"Better." It wasn't entirely a lie. The rest had cleared some of the fog from my mind, though the pain remained.
"Your fever's down a little." Her hand brushed my forehead. "I found some mertil leaves while you slept. They should help with the infection."
I recognized the plant name – a common medicinal herb used by our healers. "How did you know?"
"My markings." She touched her collarbone. "They... recognize things sometimes. Plants, materials. It's hard to explain."
"The bond is changing you."
She nodded slowly. "Both of us, I think."