Chapter 2

I didn't mention it to them. Not at that moment. No, I could not bear it. they would probably find out sooner or later. Better to let them simply take care of me, take me away from this place. I closed my eyes. Time to drift away from the voices and to concentrate on the feelings within myself.

The pearl.

The pain of the knife wound was overpowering, radiating like a burning sun set into my stomach, but still I tried to sift through it and to locate something I knew was beneath it -- or was supposed to be. I prayed it was still there.

At last I felt it. A tiny life force deep within my body. With my mind I called out to it, and inside my body I willed myself to overcome the pain and yield, to offer comfort and say to my child, "Worry no longer, for we are safe, we are alive."

I felt in response a faint movement, a twinge in my side. I believe I must have gasped, because again I heard the voices. A worried hand touched my cheek.

"Are you all right?" one asked. "Are we hurting you?"

The voices grew indistinct as I let myself fade back to sleep, into unconsciousness. I was alive and so was the pearl. For now that would have to be enough.

When I next awoke, I was in a different place, out of the desert at last. A cool cloth was spread out on my forehead and I was tucked beneath the downy warmth of a blanket.

Eyes still closed, I focused on my body. The pain had dulled away almost to nothing. Probably I had been given healing medicine, some sort of pain reliever. Maybe I had even been operated on. No matter, not at that moment. All I knew was that I was closer to being alive than I had been in several days.

I thought about my pearl. There was no way for me to know precisely how much time had passed, but assuming the intuitions I gathered from my memories were correct, I was probably about half way through my term.

I felt a movement inside myself. This was my own muscles flexing, no doubt in preparation for the birth. It was a sweet ache, knowing that there would be pain in those days to come, but feeling such thankfulness that it was going to happen, that I was, as I'd managed to tell my rescuers, alive.

I opened my eyes. The blond har, who I'd caught as he looked off to the side, shifted his gaze to meet mine.

"Welcome back," he said, smiling as he leaned forward in his chair.

With effort I offered a weak smile. "I am Dera," I heard myself say.

"I am Arafa," he replied, holding out his hand.

I offered him feeble fingers, which he promptly clasped within his own. "Thank you," I said. "Thank you for saving my life."

Arafa gently squeezed my hand and chuckled. "You're welcome, but I don't think it was really Fafara and I who saved your life. It was you. Such strength, to have endured all that on your own. What made you so strong?"

I answered him without hesitation. "I am hosting a child."