I won’t need to do that anymore, she reminded herself. If this crystal really will last like the Wise One promised, I’ll be able to see where I’m going from now on. I won’t need a special lane or a cane or the voiceover feature on my phone and computer or my brail keyboard or…

  But the list was too long to name. Her whole life would be different now. She wasn’t sure if this new vision was good enough to drive with—probably not—but just being able to take public transportation and see where she was going was going to be amazing.

  Somehow, though, Molly couldn’t feel quite as happy as she had earlier.

  It’s because I’m still thinking about Braxx, she thought, and knew it was true. I need to get this out before it makes me completely miserable.

  Molly kept a recorded diary—something she’d stared on the advice of her therapist when she was newly blind and had continued, even after she had come to terms with her blindness. Talking about her troubles—even if it was only to a recorder—really helped and she felt the need to write an entry now.

  Feeling clean and refreshed on the outside but still troubled within, she came out of the water. She didn’t have a towel, so she pushed the water off her skin with her hands as well as she could and then put both negus back on. The long grass strands clung to her damp skin but Molly thought that if she sat on the mossy side of the stream for a little while, she would probably dry off.

  She settled herself with a sigh and picked up the small hand-held recorder. She didn’t bother to loop the strap over her wrist this time, though. She just pushed the button, mentioned the date, and began recording.

  “Private entry—I’ve done a potentially very stupid thing and I’m not very happy about it,” she began. “I had sex with Commander Braxx, the Kindred scout who found Tal’os Trenta and who subsequently agreed to come with me to help on this field mission since Denise couldn’t come.”

  She stopped for a moment, an unexpected wave of homesickness coming over her. She didn’t usually mind being away from her apartment but it had been a long, long time since she’d done field work without her best friend and assistant.

  I hope she’s all right! I hope Scott pulled through.

  Molly felt a stab of guilt. I’ve been so excited getting to know a new planet and then getting some vision back I haven’t even thought of her. What if she needs me? What if Scott isn’t okay?

  She could feel herself going into a guilt spiral and had to pull herself firmly back from the edge.

  All right—what had happened to Denise’s fiancée wasn’t her fault—it was just really bad timing. And Molly couldn’t miss a once in a lifetime opportunity—Denise hadn’t wanted her to. In fact, she had urged Molly to go to Tal’os Trenta and she did have her mother and sisters for moral support so it wasn’t like Molly had left her all alone.

  She’ll be fine, Molly told herself. I’m probably missing her way more than she’s missing me right about now.

  The thought calmed her somewhat, although she still felt a bit homesick.

  “I’m feeling homesick,” she said, recording the emotion as it came to her, just as her therapist had taught her so many years ago. “I miss Denise and I think I may have really screwed myself here—allowing myself to be, uh, intimate with Braxx.”

  “So you regret allowing the off-worlder to pledge to you, do you?”

  The deep male voice surprised her so much, Molly dropped the hand-held recorder with a little squeak.

  “What…who…” she gasped, looking around wildly.

  “It is Drogor—your future mate.” He stepped forward, a huge gold and crimson glowing shape coming up from behind her. Well that answered the question about why she hadn’t seen him coming. He’d been hiding back there for who knew how long watching her and listening to her.

  The thought made Molly’s blood run cold.

  “I…I thought you were gone,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm and ignoring the ‘future mate’ statement. “Thought you’d left the village, Drogor.”

  “I did leave—the smell of that off-worlder Bastard pledging to you, ruining your sweet scent with his own—sickened me.” He spat on the ground, as though to show his disgust. Then he inhaled deeply. “But I don’t smell his scent on you anymore.”

  “Only because I took a bath, er, a dip in the stream,” Molly said hastily.

  “No.” He shook his head. “No, if he had truly claimed you, his scent would not have washed off so easily. He didn’t, did he? Though he pledged to you, he has yet to claim you completely.”

  “I don’t…I mean…”

  Molly wasn’t sure what to say. She still felt caught off guard and more than a little uneasy to find herself alone with the huge Deep Dweller. He was every bit as big as Braxx was and he loomed in her new field of vision like a glowing god…or maybe a monster.

  “Drogor—” she began but he cut her off.

  “Say nothing, Molly from the Stars. For surely this is a sign. I came here wanting only a drink of water before I made my way back to the Depths and instead, I find you here—your body cleansed and your lovely scent washed clean of the off-worlder’s stink.”

  “I don’t know what sign you think it is,” Molly began. “But I’m not—”

  But before she could finish saying, “I’m not interested in you,” Drogor scooped her up under one arm as one might pick up a small child.

  “Hey…hey!” Molly exclaimed, struggling in his grip. “Stop this! Put me down right now!”

  “You will be mine, Molly from the Stars,” he declared, taking a firmer grip on her as she tried to wriggle free. “The fates have decreed it will be so.”

  “No they haven’t and no I won’t! Let me go! Hel—”

  Before she could get the rest of the scream out, his big palm slapped over her face, covering her mouth and part of her nose so that Molly could hardly breathe.

  She wiggled and fish-tailed wildly but it didn’t seem to matter to Drogor. He only tucked her more firmly into his big, sweaty armpit and took off at a dead run, despite her wild gyrations.

  Oh God, Molly thought desperately as she jounced along under his arm. This is crazy! I can’t believe I’m being kidnapped by one of the natives! I have to get out of here—get away!

  But there was no getting out of Drogor’s iron grip. And soon the lack of oxygen made her stop trying. He had all but one nostril covered and her heart was pounding a frantic rhythm, begging her to take in more air, not less. Soon she began to feel dizzy and faint.

  No, she thought desperately as they jounced along through the forest, the only sounds the surprisingly soft footfalls of the big Deep Dweller. No, can’t faint…who knows where I’ll wake up?

  And then everything was darkness as her new vision flickered and she felt herself go limp.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Why did I push her away? Why did I shout at her not to touch me? What’s wrong with me?

  Braxx had no answers to any of the questions crowding his mind. But that didn’t mean they would stop coming.

  He paced up and down the length of the small hut—an exercise which only took him three steps in each direction, and wondered why he had acted the way he had with Molly.

  Why didn’t I just tell her what was wrong with my cheek—the reason it looked different to her than the other? he asked himself.

  In answer, a picture of Danella rose in his mind, her sleek cap of raven black hair so different from Molly’s tumbled caramel locks. The look of disgust and pity on her perfect features was all it took to turn his stomach. His ex-intended had always been extremely concerned with appearances. She had loved going out and feeling every eye on them, putting herself and Braxx on display and knowing they were the most beautiful couple in the room.

  The crash had taken that from her in one fell swoop. Oh, there were still many eyes on them, but now the look they held was one of horror, not admiration. Danella hadn’t been able to stand it.

  Braxx thought he knew Molly well enough to know th
at she wasn’t as vain and concerned with appearances as his ex. But what if he was wrong? He just couldn’t bear to take the risk and find out.

  Plus, even if she accepted your appearance, how could she accept your past? What you did in that crash…

  But no—Braxx pushed the ugly memory brutally aside. He couldn’t just—a sudden glance at the chronometer on his wrist cut off his thought abruptly. How had it gotten so late? Molly had been gone over an hour—almost two hours. Shouldn’t she be back by now if she was only going for a wash in the stream?

  I think we know that’s not the only reason she left, whispered a nasty little voice in his head. She wanted more than a wash—she wanted to get away from you.

  But Braxx didn’t allow himself to be pulled back into the mire of misery and self-recrimination he’d been wallowing in for the past two hours. The point now was finding Molly. He had sworn to protect her—he shouldn’t have let her go off alone on a strange planet, no matter what he was feeling.

  He left the hut and jogged down to the stream…only to find it deserted. There was no sign of Molly except for a faint trace of her sweet, fresh scent clinging to the moss near the stream’s edge. Her scent and…

  Braxx frowned as he sniffed the air, his nostrils wrinkling.

  No…oh, no—it can’t be!

  But it was—another scent was lingering around the side of the stream bank—a darker, more masculine scent.

  Braxx felt a low growl building in his throat—Drogor!

  Abruptly his toes found something hard half buried in the moss. Looking down, he saw it was the voice recorder Molly kept with her at all times.

  He picked it up and saw it was still recording. He ran it back and listened— it had picked up his faint curse as he stubbed his toe on its hard case. Heart beating in his throat, he ran it back some more.

  “I’m feeling homesick,” he heard Molly’s sweet voice say. “I miss Denise and I think I may have really screwed myself here—allowing myself to be, uh, intimate with Braxx.”

  The words made his heart clench like a fist in his chest—so she was sorry about what they’d done together. Well, could he really blame her?

  But the next words on the little recorder made him feel even worse, if that was possible.

  “So you regret allowing the off-worlder to pledge to you, do you?” The voice was unmistakably Drogor’s.

  Braxx gritted his teeth as he listened to the recorded exchange. When he got to the part where Drogor mentioned that Braxx’s scent had been washed off of Molly, he clenched his fists in frustration.

  Damn it, he should have thought about the stream washing his scent away! In a world where females were branded by their male’s scent stamped on their skin, allowing her to take a bath without him to protect her was the same as sending a woman with a deep cut to swim in shark-infested waters!

  As he listened, it became clear what had happened—while he had been pacing in the hut and licking his wounds like a hurt beast, the huge Deep Dweller had swooped back into the village and had come upon Molly all alone. Seeing—or rather smelling—his chance, he had taken her and run off—probably to the catacombs deep beneath the surface of the earth which the Tal’ossi called “the Depths.”

  A final cut-off scream on the recorder clinched the idea and Braxx knew what he had to do. He was going to the Depths to get his female back. Going to claim her and bash Drogor’s skull in for daring to take her!

  He turned to head in the direction of the Depths but a familiar voice stopped him.

  “So, you did not claim her as I told you to.”

  “Wise One?” Braxx whirled to face her and found her standing behind him, her arms crossed over her wrinkled bosom, her one large eye narrowed in disapproval.

  “So I am called, Braxx from the sky. But perhaps I should be renamed Foolish One. I tried to warn you to claim your female completely but maybe my warning was not strong enough.”

  “I am the one who is foolish,” Braxx growled. “I allowed Molly to come here to bathe alone, never thinking that the water would wash my protective scent from her skin. And now—”

  “And now Drogor has taken her away to the Depths,” she finished for him, nodding gravely. “Yes, I know—I heard as much when you used the box that makes voices.” She nodded at the recorder still clenched tightly in his hand. “But the Cha’llah told me also—told me there would be trouble. And so I came.”

  “Whatever rebuke you have for me, give it quickly,” Braxx growled. “I have to go get Molly before that fucking Deep Dweller claims her!”

  “It is not a scolding but a warning I have for you, Braxx from the Sky,” the Wise One said. “First, I warn you that the way ahead of you is very dark—not just for your eyes but for your soul. The Cha’llah bids me tell you that winning back your female will not be easy. In order to take back Molly, you will have to let go of your last hope.”

  Braxx had no idea what she meant so he simply nodded.

  “All right.”

  “You do not understand—but you will.” the Wise one nodded grimly. “Oh yes, you will, Braxx from the Sky. My second warning to you is this—when you get to Molly from the Stars, mark her as your own at once. Do not hesitate to brand her with your scent or you will be sorry. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Wise One.” Braxx nodded.

  “Good, now go and may the Cha’llah bless your efforts.”

  “Thank you.” Braxx turned away and ran into the night, hoping he could get to Molly before it was too late.

  * * * * *

  Molly woke when someone dripped water on her face.

  “Wha—?” She tried to sit up but someone with soft hands pushed her back down again firmly.

  “Lie still, Molly from the Stars. The world has been dark to your eyes for many breaths. You must take your waking slowly.”

  Molly started to tell the strange woman the world was always dark to her eyes since she was blind but then she saw it wasn’t true—at least, not completely. For she could see the woman who was talking to her—she glowed gold with red and blue highlights which outlined her facial features and her hair respectively.

  I can see—I can see! It was a surprise all over again and it brought back the events of the past day and night vividly. Coming to Tal’os Trenta, making love with Braxx when I really shouldn’t have, the Wise One giving me a crystal to help me see…

  Her fingers flew to her forehead and sure enough, she felt the familiar shape of the tear-drop shaped crystal pressed right between her eyes. Was it glowing more brightly than it had before? In the darkness of the room she was in, it certainly seemed to be.

  “Do not worry, Molly from the Stars,” the woman who had been sponging her forehead with a damp cloth said. “Your Cha’llah crystal is quite safe. For none can remove it but you and then, only of your own free will.”

  “Thank you,” Molly said uncertainly. She struggled to sit up again and this time the woman helped her. “Thank you but…who are you?”

  “I am Llewith—a healer.” The woman inclined her head gracefully. “The Elder of our clan charged me with making certain you were well enough for your claiming.”

  “My what?” Molly frowned at her. “My claiming? What are you talking about?”

  Then, in a sudden sick rush, the rest of her memories returned. Drogor catching her unawares at the stream, tucking her under his arm and running away with her.

  I must be in the Depths—the caverns underground where the Deep Dwellers live, she thought, feeling ill. And now, how am I ever going to get out again?

  “Drogor is claiming you as soon as the clan can get assembled for the ceremony,” Llewith explained. “He took you in a raid from the Surface Lands, did he not?”

  “Yes, he took me—he took me against my will,” Molly emphasized. “I did not want to go with him and I refuse to be claimed by him.”

  “Oh, you cannot refuse.” The woman sounded shocked, as though the idea was crazy. “He has taken you and so you are his. It is as s
imple as that.”

  “But—” Molly began but just then there was a small, polite cough from a few feet away.

  “Healer Llewith,” a female voice said and Molly looked up to see another Deep Dweller female, outlined in glowing gold. Her heat-vision sight was beginning to be familiar to her again and she could see the woman stood in a kind of doorway hollowed out of rock.

  “Yes?” The healer asked.

  “Elder has asked me to come and see if the off-worlder female is ready for the ceremony,” the other woman said. “He says to tell you all the village is assembled and waiting. And Drogor says to make haste for he will not risk losing her again.”

  “Yes, she is well,” the healer said. “She can speak and she is regaining her strength.”

  Too late, Molly realized she ought to have remained still and silent instead of sitting up and talking so much. She ought to have played sick. But now it was too late. Already Llewith was on one side and the other woman was on the other as they pulled her to her feet.

  “Wait,” she said, trying to hold back. “Wait, I can’t do this! I can’t!”

  “Come, Molly from the Stars.” The healer gripped her arm all the tighter and pulled her along by force. She and the woman on Molly’s other side were extremely tall and muscular—between the two of them they nearly lifted Molly off her feet and she had no chance to escape.

  “Please,” she begged as they dragged her out of the smaller cave she’d woken in and into a much larger cavern lit only by a soft blue glow. “Don’t do this to me! I only came to know the People for a little while. I have people at home who care for me and I care for them in return. I can’t get married, er, claimed and stay here forever.”

  “If you did not wish to be claimed, you should have had another male mark you with his scent,” Llewith told her as they dragged her through a crowd of assembled Deep Dwellers and up a stony hill. “And you should feel privileged that Drogor has chosen to make you his woman.” A faint note of bitterness crept into her voice. “Many females have wished for him to claim them. He is the mightiest warrior in the clan—being his woman is a great honor. “