Page 15

“I keep people alive.”

“Better price.”

Kesta’s stomach tightened, but Lina’s fingers had begun to tremble against her sleeve. This was not the moment to win an argument with a man who thought survival and market value were the same thing.

“Let me work.”

The leader gestured to one of his men, who released the chain attached to Kesta’s wrist but remained close enough to grab her if she moved toward a weapon. Kesta opened the medical pouch and removed the last usable splint.

Lina’s face had gone pale beneath the dust. “I can’t feel my foot.”

“I know.” Kesta pressed two fingers against the artery at her ankle and found a weak flutter. “That doesn’t mean you’ve lost it.”

Lina searched her face. “Are you sure?”

Kesta held her gaze for a moment. “I’m sure we’re going to give it every chance.”

That was the truth she could offer.

She adjusted Lina’s position and showed her where to grip the edge of her own sleeve. “This is going to hurt.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It’s medical honesty.”

Despite everything, the corner of Lina’s mouth twitched. Kesta waited until the woman had taken two slow breaths before she reset the bone.

Lina screamed into the cloth.

The cry echoed across the basin, and every rift stalker outside the blue light answered.

Several raiders laughed.

Kesta ignored them. She held the reduction, shaped the splint into place, and sealed it before checking circulation again. The pulse at Lina’s ankle was stronger.

“Can you feel this?” Kesta brushed one of her toes.

Lina’s eyes filled with tears. “A little.”

“Good. Little is good.”

The raider leader crouched beside them. “You make broken useful.”

Kesta looked up from Lina’s leg. “I make people survive.”

His expression suggested he found the distinction pointless. “Same thing here.”

A stone clicked beyond the glow rods.

The reaction was immediate. Weapons rose. The raiders turned toward the western edge of the basin, and the rift stalkers lowered their bodies until their bellies almost touched the ground.

Something was moving through the pack.

At first Kesta assumed it was another predator, perhaps a larger one. Then the rift stalkers separated before the approaching figure rather than attacking it.

A very tall alien male stepped into the blue light.

Kesta had seen Kharovians among the prisoners in the military ward, but none like this one. Backward-sweeping horns rose from long dark hair, black and heavily ridged near their bases before paling toward the tips. Close-set scales traced his temples and throat and continued over the backs of his hands. His skin was deep bronze-copper, marked by old pale scars where battered armor left part of his chest and one shoulder exposed.