Page 42 of Taken to Lemora
“Essmira, come on. Stay close,” I bark at her as we move through the next three caves, further down into the earth.
The caves go down deep, much deeper than we know, and have more kintarr within them than any of us could hope to mine in our lifetimes, especially considering that, in its natural habitat andonlyif mined using gentle techniques that don’t scrape the kintarr bud from its root stone, kintarr regenerates so quickly it’s creepy. It’s a crystal, but it acts more like a living organism.
With Mino and Olga still bickering at my back, I’m forced to bicker, too, as I show them how to use the ventilation systemagain, the lousy ingrates. Eventually, they want me to reinstall it myself because the morons don’t understand what I’m talking about and, to do so, we climb up onto a high stone shelf closest to the surface, where the stem of the ventilator penetrates. I don’t invite Essmira to join me up here, but leave her in Willa’s safe hands. Willa’s one of the younger Lemoran females who works the mines. Her hands aren’t yet as blocky and thick as some of the others, and her horns aren’t so sharp, either…but then…from here, where I’m standing, she certainly does seem to tower over Essmira…
Wait just a moment!
That isn’t ohring Willa!
Essmira’s against the opposite cave wall and, though Willa is standing beside her, she’s focused on the male in front of her. A male called Jagger or Jaguar or Jabber or some nonsense like it. I can’t tell from here. And she…she! Ohring female! She’s got her hands on his back and is stroking him all over.
My rage triples. My hands clench. The ventilator is forgotten and so are the only two rules of the mine — rules I put in place:
Never go anywhere alone.
No loud noises that could disrupt the fragile equilibrium of the kintarr. It’s reactivity is part of what makes it so powerful. It’s reactivity is part of what makes it so lethal.
I roar so loud my whole body shakes, “JAGGUAR GET THE OHR AWAY FROM ESSMIRA!”
And then I watch it happen, as if in slow motion. All hundred some odd faces scattered around this cave turn to look up at me, which means they aren’t looking at her when the kintarr directly above her head breaks.
It plummets towards her, a translucent pink stalactite coated in small shells, calcium and other natural sediments that make it appear murky. And as the pointed end somehow rearranges itself to point directly down at my mate, I yell out a mangled, tortured sound and would have likely lunged off of the stone shelf beneath my feet had Olga not wrenched me back onto my ass. And I’m still on my ass, one small kintarr crystal stabbing me in the left butt cheek, when I hear it.
BOOM.
9
Essmira
“Are you alright?” I cough, inhaling powdery dust particles that sit in my mouth and clog my throat. I lie on my back between two boulders looking up at the male positioned over me. He cringes as he starts to move his limbs. “Careful.” I cough some more, reaching above me to hold his shoulders. “Stay still. Don’t move.”
He nods, eyes closed tight. It doesn’t take long for hands to find his arms and start to pull the bits of rubble and rock off of him from above. Several Lemoran, including the kind female who had acted as my guide, call his name. “Jaygar!”
“Jaygar, can you hear us?”
“Jaygar…here, move these stones.”
“The kintarr’s dug into his back…”
“Watch for the splinters!”
“Here! For your hands!”
“Essmira!”
“Miriga Essmira is under there?”Miriga. There’s that word again.My stomach flutters every time I hear it because Iknowit’s a term of endearment, even though it means nothing to me. It’s the way they say it. Always kind. Always reverent. Always sweet.
“I’m here. I’m fine. Jaygar saved my life,” I shout, and then more quietly, just to him, I say, “Thank you, Jaygar. Thank you so, so much.”
His mouth twitches and he grimaces when someone above him shovels some rocks off of his shoulder and tries to grab him and lift him up. He’s wedged awkwardly between two boulders while I’ve fallen deeper into the crevice between them. About two feet separate us. Enough distance for me to be able to reach up and touch his neck, which I do, hoping to offer comfort.
“It looks like I’ll need another one of those massages,” he says stiffly.
I offer a small smile, but it’s not a smile that I feel in my chest, heart or soul. He’s hurt because of me. He threw himself over me to offer protection, even though I’m only a stranger. The selflessness of these Lemoran is overwhelming. Even Raingar…his reaction when he realized I was hurt…I could never have imagined anything like that from Tyto. And I know he’s a foul comparison, but he’s all I have to compare any male to. It’s a wonder that that abominable creature even exists in the same realm as these others. That I had a lifetime of thinking that was normal, before this.
I know it’s not.
And I’m determined to hold onto this beauty surrounding me.
