Jareen woke coughing, struggling to breathe through her nose. Snot had run down onto her lips. She sat up, wiping her face with the back of her wrist. Her back ached. For a few moments, she was confused.

She had fallen asleep at the quthli feast, leaning back against a tree next to Coir. The fires had burned low but still smoldered; no wonder her nose was so stopped up. It was cold, too. She could see her breath, but she was warm. Something heavy lay on her legs. A pelt lay atop her. She recoiled, pushing the foul thing away.

The quthli had feasted late into the night. By the feel of the air, it was near morning. She couldn't have slept more than a few hours. Quthli lay in huddles around the ember-fires scattered through the trees. The smell of charred flesh still hung heavy in the air. She was surprised that she had fallen asleep there, but she'd been so tired. Tired and weak.

Coir lay next to her in a pile of furs, his jaw hanging open. His right hand rested on his belly. Jareen was happy for him. He deserved a mighty meal after so much deprivation. He looked comfortable, but he had always been comfortable among the quthli. In some ways, she suspected he was more comfortable among them than among the Vien. Humans were strange creatures. She learned that long ago in Nosh. But Coir was not just a human.

It reached Jareen's old instincts before it reached her mind. It was the familiar sense of wrongness. She stared at Coir's stomach, waiting. She crawled over and placed a hand on the furs. She tore the furs away and grasped his wrist.

"Coir," she said. She put a hand on his forehead. It was cold. She shook his shoulder. "Coir!"

Jareen had seen hundreds of dead humans. She already knew, and yet she called him again.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Coir!"

Nearby, a quthli sat up with a snort.

Jareen felt his neck. He had no pulse, no movement. His whole body was cold. Judging by the stiffness of his muscles, he had been gone for hours. She knew it all, but she laid her head on his chest to listen, anyway. There was no sign of suffering on his face—no grimace, no twisted posture—but then, she knew that the initial slackness of the muscles after death could hide it. He had been tucked into the furs, lying as if comfortable. She placed a hand on his belly. It felt distended.

Had he lain down, Jareen sleeping nearby, and simply died? Had he fallen asleep, first? She could not know. Had he put the pelt atop her legs? Surely not. He would know not to do something like that. Her mind jumped from one thought to another, trying to reconstruct the events, judging the time from all the signs of death she knew so well.

How could she have slept?

How could he be gone, just like that?

Only then did she remember what they had planned for that day. They were going to Vah'tane. At least, they hoped they were going to Vah'tane. Out of all the days of all the years of his life, Coir had the audacity to die now?

"You bastard," she said in Noshian. "You were supposed to go to Vah'tane. We were going today."

Jareen lifted his shoulders, cradling him in her bosom. He was so light, despite his stiffness and distension. How had he lost so much weight? She had watched over the deaths of so many. Everything about it was familiar, but it was wrong—wrong because it was him.

Something moved near her. She looked up to see a quthli standing there. It stared down at the two of them. The ember-light of the nearby fire gleamed in his eyes. Throwing its head back, it opened its fanged mouth. A horrible screech shattered the night, trailing into a guttural wail. Jareen had heard the sound before from a distance, but never so close.

Hundreds of quthli sprang up from sleep, roused by the mourning wail. The quthli next to her cried out again. Jareen cradled Coir as scores of other quthli came to huddle around them. Soon the din of a multitude of voices rose in the chilling mourning cries. The cacophony enveloped her, and somehow, sheltered her. Within it she wept, rocking back and forth with Coir's fragile form in her arms.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.