“Do you want tea?” I ask politely, gesturing at my cold fire pit. I’ve let the flame go out, but O’jek will be back soon to fix it for me, I’m sure.
The healer shakes her head, yawning. “I need a nap and to hug my babies. Then I’ll feel better.” She gives me a sleepy smile as she props up on her side, gazing at me. “You’re looking so much better, Daisy. I’m sorry it’s taking so long. When I burned my hands, it took a while for them to feel normal again. They looked fine, but they still tingled at the slightest sign of heat. My burn wasn’t anything like yours, though.”
I nod. I’ve heard the story before. Shortly after the humans had arrived, Veronica had clumsily fallen into the fire, but she’d healed herself automatically, and everyone discovered her healing gift. I had no such luck. Even now, I still get nervous sitting near the fire. I have nightmares in which I re-live that moment, the stink of my hair burning and sticking to my scalp, the pain as I struggled to un-twist my limbs and get free from the fire, only to shove my face against the coals even harder. To make matters worse, I’d been complaining to Hannah that my hands and face had felt dry and chapped, so I’d smoothed oil onto them.
I don’t use oil any longer. My hands are rough but I can’t find it in me to care. I’m letting myself fall apart now that I’m ugly. There’s no point any longer.
At my silence, Veronica sits up and gives me a bright smile. “I just want you to know that you’re brave, Daisy. And that we’re going to get you fixed up, all right? Please don’t despair. As long as I have healing power in my hands, I’m going to keep working to get those burns off of you. We’ll have you perfect again soon.”
I give her a faint smile, because she genuinely is the nicest. “I really do appreciate it, Veronica. Please don’t think that I’m ungrateful. I appreciate you more than you know.”
She reaches out and squeezes my hand. “I know. It’s just an adjustment, right? But that’s one thing about this world. It keeps throwing punches at us and we learn how to roll with them.” She gets to her feet, brushing off her furs. “Speaking of rolling, now I had better go find my mate and my boys before they all decide to roll in the mud at one of the hot springs.” She pauses. “Again.”
“Mud?” I ask, smiling. Her two sons—Katamneas and Varukhal—are both very young but extremely rambunctious. I suspect it has something to do with their father.
Veronica snorts. “Ashtar thought it was cute, but I didn’t once I saw how much mud was crusted into their little tunics. I’m going to be brushing mud flecks out of the fur for days and days. Or rather, their father is.” She waves at me as she heads toward the entrance of my hut. “See you at dinner.”
“See you,” I say, watching her leave. I don’t know if I’m going to be at dinner. I haven’t had much of an appetite lately. I gaze down at my hands, at the red and tight skin covering my palms and my lower arms, and I try to discern if there’s a difference. It’s hard to tell. They’re still ugly. The red scarring is livid against my pale skin.
I swallow hard, hearing Johani’s voice in my head. Your use is as a pretty ornament, my sweet. I need you to look perfect at all times.
I’m no longer that pretty ornament. I can’t get away from that thought. How disappointed he would have been. How he’d have discarded me. My job was to be pretty. To have others admire me. I don’t know what to do with myself if I’m not that Daisy. The grief of what I’ve lost hits me all over again. Now that I’m ugly, I really can’t ever go back. I know I’ve been left here for good, my death feigned. I know my khui is permanent and won’t let me live outside of this atmosphere. But for some reason, the scars are what make me feel trapped here. Up until I was damaged goods, I felt like I had options.
Now I’m realizing I’ve traded one loveless life for another, and the helpless agony of it is killing me slowly.
I want to lie down in my furs like Veronica did, but my hut is empty and I’m alone. I hate being alone. It reminds me that Johani is really, truly gone. Back on Praxii, I shared a bed with him and Vuurash. I was never alone. I slept on the far end of the bed while they touched and made love, and I felt so lonely and unwanted watching what they shared. Strange how I could feel lonely then and to have that loneliness worse now that I have a bed to myself. Maybe tonight I’ll ask O’jek to sleep over again. Tell him I’ve had nightmares just so he’ll keep me company. I know I’m using him to prop myself up, but I can’t seem to stop.