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“I am Thor’Steyn,” I said, pointing at myself. “How do you know my name?”
“Thor,” she said, nodding, though she looked frightened.
I pointed at her. “What’s your name?”
If possible, she shrank back even farther but answered me. “Holly.”
“Holly?” I repeated, reveling in saying her name out loud.
It took all my willpower not to rush over to where she stood and pull her into my arms to feel her nearness. She was my szaria, my reason for living, my heart and soul, and I burned to press her against me.
Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to recognize me as her szaria, even though she knew my name, so I held back.
“You look hungry and thirsty. Come with me,” I offered, but of course she didn’t understand a word I said. I needed her to say more.
An idea occurred to me. I pointed at the dead daggerbeast. “Daggerbeast.” Then I pointed at the dead creature and her, repeating her name and making an exaggerated questioning face.
She showed her intelligence when she, understanding what I was trying to do, replied, “Daggerbeast.”
She looked questioningly at me, and when I nodded, she said, “Saber-toothed cat.”
Then she pointed at a tree. “Tree.”
“Tree?” I asked, and she nodded.
“Dublan,” I responded.
I pointed at the soil and said, “Limbo,” hoping she didn’t just think I meant the word for dirt.
“Earth,” she replied.
After a few more words, I tried, “Where did you come from?” while miming walking, hoping she would pick up on it too.
During our short interaction, she seemed to relax somewhat, but now she closed her eyes and sighed.
Words poured out of her mouth, her hands moved up and down, drew circles in the air as she spoke animatedly, and to my surprise, my translator began to pick up words. They were strange words though and didn’t make any sense to me. “Hotel. Vortex. Future. Landed here.”
She looked at me expectantly. “I’m not sure I understood all that,” I admitted, but her face lit up.
“I can understand you now. How is that possible?”
I tapped against my head. “The Manx implanted a translator chip inside my head.”
She swayed slightly. Alarmed, I moved forward. She flinched but didn’t move, and better yet, allowed me to steady her.
“Manx?” she asked.
“Yes, Manx. Let’s talk about that later. You must be hungry, thirsty. And you need to get your feet taken care of,” I suggested.
She blinked at me, and tears shone in her eyes. “That would be wonderful.”
“My clan lives in the caves up there.” I indicated the mountain up the path.
“I know the caves.” She gave me a tentative smile before she asked, “Clan?”
“It’s a long story, but we live up there, and I promise you will be safe.”
“Safe?” She sounded wistful and torn for not trusting me at the same time.
