A/N: This is the first time I've been able to log on pretty much since the last chapter I posted. This site's been kind of glitchy lately. Hopefully it's working better for you guys!
Carmen groaned. First thing she became aware of was a throbbing headache. She tried to lift a hand to her forehead, but found her muscles stiff and unwilling. The ground beneath her felt cold and hard and unforgiving. But something warm had wrapped itself protectively around her. Silver whined, licking her face to help bring the young woman to her senses.
"Silver?" she rasped. The dog's tail thumped at the sound of his name. Carmen realized that they were lying at the base of a tree, its branches dancing and swaying in a breeze. Piece by piece, memories strung together in her mind. A sudden urgency spurred her muscles into life.
Pushing off the ground, she tried to stand up. Immediately her legs buckled. Silver whined again, dancing worried circles around the young woman. "I'm trying, I'm trying," she grumbled. This time, Carmen held on to the trunk of the tree as she lifted herself. Her vision swam with the effort. Her stomach lurched. Gingerly, she touched the back of her head and discovered a clump of her hair matted with blood. She must have struck something on the way down.
The Vakronian body still lay across the clearing, undisturbed. And there was no sign of the shadow. Overhead, a gray blush to the sky heralded dawn's approach. Carmen cursed herself silently. She had to get back to the inn before anyone could catch her out. "Home, Silver," she ordered, grabbing hold of the dog's leather collar. "Take us home."
The dog set off, with Carmen stumbling to keep up at his side. Her feet still ached from the journey there, and they began to blister as they rubbed against her wet shoes. The little white flowers dimmed in pale morning light, but Silver kept his nose to the ground, relying on his trusty sense of smell. Every minute eked by like a bad dream.
At long last, Carmen heard the rush of the river. They had made it back to its familiar banks. She sank to her knees at the big dog's side. "Thank-you, Silver," she said, burying her face in his fur. His bushy tail wagged wearily. "I promise you this: today, you have made a friend for life." Silver's tongue lashed across her nose and she fell back to the ground with a laugh. "I might be fond of you, but I'm still not fond of your slobber!"
With a pink tongue still lolling from his mouth, Silver bounded across the shallow river. Carmen dusted herself off and followed suit. The water, once refreshing, now felt like ice on her bruised and blistered feet. Her toes went numb and her back ached in a dozen different places. Just a little bit farther.
A well-beaten path led Carmen to the edge of the Perler's property. Silver broke away from the young woman's side, trotting towards his bed in the barn without so much as a goodbye. Carmen felt a pang of disappointment to be parting company. If it weren't for Silver, she knew that her night would have fared far worse.
Crouching in the treeline, Carmen cast a cautious look around. The lights of the main house were on, but the courtyard lay silent and still, shrouded in pink morning light. The inn, a long row of rooms with little front doors and little porches, showed no signs of life either. No smoke drifted from any of the clay chimneys, no shadows moved behind the window panes. Still, she could picture the commander pacing anxiously back and forth inside their rented quarters. No doubt he was worried by now.
As stealthy as she could, Carmen crept across the open space and up to their front door. After glancing around one last time, she opened it and slipped inside. Warm, dark air surrounded the young woman. It smelled of the stone floor and the cinders in their stove and most of all, it smelled of safety. She leaned her forehead against the closed door, breathing a sigh of relief.
But then, turning around, she made an unsettling discovery. Everything here lay silent and still, too. A momentary panic set in-perhaps they had gone out looking for her? Should she leave, try to find them? Or wait for them to return? And what if they didn't return? What if they had run into that dragon creature, or whoever murdered the Vakronian agent?
Her frantic thoughts were interrupted by a rustling sound. Carmen's attention drew to the side, where a small bedroom branched away from the main living area. She tiptoed towards the archway, holding her breath. But as she reached the corner, all her worries evanesced.
Riker and Troi lay blissfully tangled together on the bed, fast asleep. Troi's head rested atop the commander's chest, her arm wrapped around his waist and the blanket falling just below her bare shoulder. Her long hair fanned out in unruly waves, covering the side of Riker's face. Carmen chuckled softly to herself. They had barely even noticed she was gone. She couldn't help but wonder if the commander had ulterior motives for sending her off on an overnight assignment.
Quietly, Carmen withdrew from the archway. No sense in waking them up just yet. She made her way over to a large washbasin and, leaving the water at a trickle, began to clean herself up. Blood, leaves and grime swirled down the drain. She shivered, wishing that the water had been heated. As she tried to untangle the matted strands of her hair, Carmen realized just how tired she was. Her fingers worked sluggishly, every joint aching with cold and exhaustion. Her mind, too, felt like a candle burning from both ends. But she pressed on with the long, laborious task. It was not the first time she found herself at a long night's end, dressing her wounds with her last ounce of strength. After awhile, the sight of her own jagged flesh no longer alarmed her. The puddles of blood at her feet failed to fill her with fear. For the young woman's battle scars were nothing compared to the marks left upon her soul.
"Carmen?" A soft voice called her name. "Are you alright?"
She looked over her shoulder to find Troi donning a light blue robe. The counselor's eyes widened with concern as she drew closer. "Don't worry," Carmen insisted. "I'm sure it looks worse than it is."
"You're bleeding!" Troi tilted the young woman's chin down, examining the gash across the back of her head. "That's going to need a dermal regenerator. Hold on, there's one in the medkit."
She disappeared briefly, and Carmen could hear her rummaging for the small, hidden case. A weary smile tugged at her lips. Though she felt guilty about having disrupted the counselor's sleep, she also appreciated the company. Her presence seemed to brighten the early morning shadows.
Presently Troi returned. "There. Now hold still," she ordered, taking a seat on a small stool. Carmen sat on the ground in front of her. As the regenerator hummed, her pain ebbed to a dull ache. She eased out a breath and let her eyes wander towards the archway.
What's wrong? Troi asked. You are feeling...discouraged.
Carmen winced. He trusted me. He trusted me, and I...could have been more careful.
You made it back in one piece. Well, for the most part. Troi patted her shoulder reassuringly. Now show me what happened.
All Carmen had to do was replay the series of events in her mind, knowing the counselor could see everything. She showed her the trail of stars, the dead body, the shadowy figure in the tree. Then she got to the part with her reckless attempt to capture the shadow.
Wait-he said Silver's name?
Yes, Carmen answered, realizing it herself for the first time. But...how would he know Silver? Silver is Jora's dog.
Maybe he knows Jora, too.
Carmen scoffed at the notion. That can't be. Jora would have told me.
I'm not so sure about that. Jora is loyal, but loyalties can be split. Do you remember when Elion was talking at dinner? Do you remember her reaction when he brought up Shadow Ridge?
The young woman strained her memory, trying to recall. She seemed...alarmed, I think.
What about when you thought you saw something down by the river? What did she do then?
Again, Carmen pressed her memory for answers. Actually, she's the one who suggested it might have been a trick of the light. But why would she…The wheels of her tired mind turned slowly. That traitor! She DOES know something!
Done. Troi set the dermal regenerator aside. Now I need to wash your hair. Lean over.
How long have you known? Carmen asked, leaning her head over the edge of the washbasin.
I began to suspect something at dinner. I could sense she was hiding something. But she's not a traitor-she's just a little girl in need of a friend. Her fingertips worked gently through Carmen's hair, loosening the bloody mats.
A friend? There's a dead body out there!
I doubt your shadow was responsible for that. Otherwise he would have killed you, too. I mean, clearly he was armed.
Carmen sulked, strangely wounded at the idea of Jora keeping a secret from her. And what do we do about Elion? He's going to question her today. He'll get it out of her, too. He's a sharp one.
Then you have to make sure she tells you first.
How do I do that?
I don't think it will take much. Like I said, she's in need of a friend.
Carmen snorted a short, dry laugh. What does she need a friend for? She has seven brothers!
And no sisters.
Troi's words gave Carmen pause. She dwelled on them carefully as Troi wrung out her hair and then used a towel to get rid of any excess dampness. "There," she said aloud. "Now let's get you dressed and back in bed."
"Bed? But it's morning already!" Carmen protested. "We have a mission to do!"
"Yes, we have a mission to do. And I need you in top shape to do it. Just relax for a few hours while everyone eats breakfast and finishes their morning chores. I'll tell them you aren't feeling well."
Grumbling, Carmen peeled off her muddy clothes. Troi helped her change into something more comfortable and then guided her over to the couch. Stifling a yawn, the young woman sank back against its cushions. "I suppose I could take a quick nap," she conceded drowsily. Troi smiled, tucking a blanket around her.
Carmen revelled in the gentleness of her hands, as well as the gentleness of her smile. A sense of warmth and safety seeped into her mind, banishing any lingering thoughts about the mission. She looked up at the counselor gratefully. Her presence always felt to Carmen like a gentle place, no matter what planet they were on. "Would you...maybe...stay with me?" she asked. "Just until I fall asleep?"
Troi combed her fingers through the young woman's hair. "Sure," she said. "In fact, why don't we go to the falls? It's been awhile."
"Yeah." Carmen grinned. "I'd like that." Then she closed her eyes, waiting for the counselor to take her to a different jungle. It existed in the space between their Betazoid minds as a refuge for Carmen, back when the ghosts of her past would haunt her sleep. At first it was just an escape. But now, it had come to be a manifestation of Troi's love.
Good-night, Carmen.
Good-night...mom.
No longer did the word feel awkward and foreign.