One of the strange animals screamed again, surprising James as he was scribbling on the paper with charcoal. The last letter he had been writing cut across the page in a long arc. “Blast,” he swore.

  A shadow shot by the windows as whatever it was must have flown past.

  “What in God’s name is that?” he asked, looking towards Miyan.

  She looked at him with a quizzical look.

  He pointed to the window. “He–hera?”

  Miyan laughed at him, like he was a simpleton. “Sorakum,” she said slowly.

  He tried the word. “I need to see the damned things.” He turned back to Miyan and pointed towards the door. “Soram. Hara. I want to see them.”

  “Na,” Miyan replied, shaking her head. “Na ura hara.”

  “No… something… outside,” he struggled. “Fantastic.” James slumped back in his chair. He rubbed at his aching side and sighed. “I’m an airman, Miyan. I’m not meant to be cooped up in a bloody cell.”

  Cool fingers rubbed his shoulders. He flinched with surprise, but settled back. James let her run her fingers over the skin of his neck. She applied a gentle pressure, easing the tension in his muscles. “Talen-a, ena ura hara, James,” she soothed.

  he translated in his head. He sighed again, his head beginning to pound with the strain of trying to make out their language. “I guess I just have to wait.”

  He looked back at Miyan, catching her gaze. She looked away with a surprising shyness. Her hand pulled back and she walked back to where she had been sitting. She muttered what sounded like a prayer.

  “I-I’m sorry.” He touched his chest with the fingers of his right hand. “N-naya na…hum?” He shrugged, hoping he had said the right thing.

  Miyan laughed at him and nodded her head. “Naya ena,” she said.

  He turned back to his journal and smirked. “Nicely done, James. Nicely done.”

  The charcoal continued scratching at the page, his usual script was constrained by the rough piece of charcoal. He had wanted to ask if there was ink and a quill, but had no clue as to the words. Miyan also had not stopped him to offer him any other writing instrument. , he thought.

  Time ran slowly in the hospital. Miyan had left some time before, leaving him to his own devices. He saw very little out of the windows, and only Miyan came and went through the door. His boredom reached a crescendo and he slapped the desk he had been using to write his journal. “Right!” he shouted. “Enough loping around.”

  James tidied up the loose leaves of paper that were scattered across the desk. He marched to his bed and straightened the sheets to a point that his old barracks commander would have been proud of. He nodded to the bed with satisfaction and looked at the floor. A light coating of dirt covered the wooden floor. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

  He rummaged through a backroom looking for something resembling a broom, but only found larger artefacts of some loose medical resemblance and extra sheets for the beds. “Looks like we will be doing this the hard way.” He snatched a sheet from the shelf and returned to the main room.

  His side complained as he got onto his hands and knees. James took a moment to catch his breath as pain stabbed his ribs. When it passed, he went about scrubbing at the floor. He scooped back dirt, collecting it into an ever growing pile. He then scrubbed at the bare wood until it was clear of dust. Dirt danced in the air around him, scratching at his eyes. He blinked it away and returned to his work. Scrubbing, buffing, and shuffling back. He worked methodically, section by section.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  His nose tickled. . A powerful sneeze exploded from his mouth, scattering dust partially over the area he had just worked.

  “Great,” he sighed. He shuffled forward and scooted the dirt away.

  He sat on his haunches, looking at the progress he had made in a short amount of time.

  The door opened behind him and Miyan entered. “James! Hera ura-a kor?”

  He sighed. “Don’t fret, dear. I’m just tidying up the place.” He went back to scrubbing.

  “Nahum naya. Na ura-a!” She hurried over and pulled at his right arm.

  “God’s sake, let me do this!” He snatched back his arm. “I’ve had enough mollycoddling. I can’t just sit slowly going bloody mad!” He scrubbed at the floor in frustration.

  Miyan was silent.

  He scrubbed the floor in silence, just the sound of the sheet scraping at the floor. After a moment he felt someone’s gaze. He turned to look at the young woman.

  She was staring at him, her eyes bloodshot and full of tears. His frustration faded in a heartbeat and he got to his feet.

  Miyan backed away. “Na…” she said, her voice muffled by emotion.

  “Miyan…” he tried to walk to her, but she took another half-step away from him. “Naya nahum,” he said.

  She did not reply, only looked at him with sadness and what he could only think was betrayal.

  “Miyan,” he whispered, his arms moving towards her. “Naya. Nahum. I didn’t mean to hurt you… I’m just… I’m just going stir crazy in here. Please. Naya–”

  “James!” she hissed. “Nahum naya-en. Seh vela nahum. Maa na seh!”

  “I don’t–”

  She slapped her thighs with her hands. “No! Mouth!” she cried.

  James was stunned at the English words she spoke. His mouth snapped open in surprise. He laughed, it just blurted out. He couldn’t help it. The pure joy of hearing another person speaking English in days overwhelmed him. He ran to Miyan and grabbed her hands, taking her dancing around the room and laughing.

  Miyan’s initial surprise and remaining sadness melted into her sweet laugh.

  “Oh my word, Miyan. You spoke! You spoke English!”

  Miyan was smiling but she frowned in confusion.

  James stopped dragging her about the room, breathless from the exertion. “You. Mouth,” he said, pointing to his own lips.

  “Ena,” she nodded. “I-She pointed to her ear.

  “You listen.” He laughed again. “God, I could listen to you speaking all bloody day.”

  Miyan smiled back at him. Her cool fingers interlinked with his. As he noticed, he turned his gaze to their hands. His heart skipped in his chest. In that moment she looked like the most beautiful woman he had ever seen – no, she was. He looked into the dark pools of her eyes. Her smile faded and a shy nervousness overtook it.

  James swallowed. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her at that moment.

  The door opened and a tall silhouette stood beyond it. The sound made James jump and their hands snapped open.

  Miyan looked at the floor and backed away from James.

  “Hera ura-a kor, Miyan? Maa seh talen,” asked the man. He seemed angry. The man entered. His outfit was similar to that he had seen Daekhota wearing, perhaps meaning they were of the same role.

  James walked towards him. “Naya nahum. It was my fault. We were just talking and–”

  The man slapped his cheek with the back of his hand with so much force that it sent him to the floor. He landed on his knees. Pain pulsed in his head, igniting that malady right back to the level of pain he had felt on the first day he awoke. “Ma na seh, Na-tol!”

  The man unsheathed a blade and held it at James’s neck.

  “Hold on, easy!” James cried out. He held up his hands.

  “Nahum vela seh-a, Na-tol, ura kor.” James could sense the venom in the man’s words. He knew his intent, for it would be what he would have said if it was him holding a knife to another man’s throat.

  “Easy…” James hushed. “This is just a misunderstanding.”

  “Na!” Miyan cried.

  “Na seh!” the man cried, turning his head to the woman.

  Miyan looked to the floor. James hated to see her like that. His blood boiled and his fists clenched.

  The blade dug into his neck. He felt it nick his skin, warm blood snaked down his neck and chest.

  “Sah talen. Ena,” the man growled.

  “Azael!” shouted a familiar male voice.

  James realised.

  “Ura hara, Na-tol. Kor na seh-maa!” Daekhota commanded.

  The blade snapped away from his neck and the man named Azael sheathed it. He grumbled something to Daekhota as he left.

  “Na-tol, ura naya,” said Daekhota, gesturing for James to walk with him. He turned and walked outside.

  James got to his feet and started for the door and paused. He looked back at Miyan.

  She looked up at him.

  “Tu… ena?” James tried.

  Miyan gave a slight smile. “Ena,” she whispered.

  James blew air from his mouth and set his shoulders. He marched into the bright day.