Spears of the Sun (Star Sojourner Book 3) by Jean Kilczer

room with saddles, bridles, and warm, soft horse blankets.
    I cried again, now for joy, as I got my arms under two rolled blankets and lifted them, then used the walls to brace myself as I carried them to an empty stall with fresh hay spread on the floor. I slid to my knees and used my teeth to untie the strings that held the rolls. Then I struggled out of my jacket, pulled my wet turtleneck sweater over my head, even though it made me colder, and managed to unzip my pants by yanking on them, and shoved them off. I would've taken off my wet shorts and my socks too, but my fingers could not undo buttons or slip under the socks.
    The hell with it. I laid down heavily on the soft, thick blanket, with its musky smell of horse, and covered myself tightly with the other blanket. I was still shivering badly and my body made the blankets colder. But it was pure bliss. I sighed shakily and closed my eyes. If my pursuers found me here, at least the family that lounged by their warm fireplace, unaware of the predatory hunt just beyond their door, would be safe.
    I'd have to leave before daylight, though. Before someone came in to take care of the horses. And before the Shayl could see me leave. My thoughts were returning to normal; as normal as they ever get.
    I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I should have become a marine biologist instead of an astrobiologist, for all the times that I found myself in the ocean. I'd considered it during my school years, but the call of adventure on Earth's colonized star systems was even greater than the call of the sea.
    Still, I thought sleepily, I should have been a marine biologist. There were plenty of deep-sea creatures still unknown back on Earth. I'd heard of a giant, highly intelligent octopus they nicknamed the Kraken. I'd probably still be married to Althea. I would've been there for our little Lisa's early years. But no. I wanted adventure. Like this one, for instance.
    Willa,
I thought sleepily.
You were so young. So kind and loving. Where are you now? Come to me in geth state, if you can.
Sye Morth, a friendly Loranth, had communicated with me between lives when I was on Syl' Terria.
Or come to me in my dreams, Willa.
    As I slipped into sleep, I thought I caught some threads of a conversation through mindlinks.
    He's got to be around here somewhere!
I think it was Zorga speaking.
    Maybe he froze to death in the ocean.
Those feelings of guilt and sadness came from Huff.
    The Shayl never deigned to join conversations, but I felt him there, somewhere in the background.
    Or was it all just my own fears, my own transitional fantasy between the waking state and sleep. I covered my blanket with the fresh straw around me. It was too dark and there were too many houses and structures to search in the community. They'd never find me here. I closed my eyes and let sleep come.
    Someone kicked me hard in the knee. It hurt too much to be a dream. I snapped open my eyes and sat up. Zorga and Huff stood in the stall. After all my efforts, they had caught up to me. But how?
    Daylight seeped through cracks in the barn wall, backlighting Zorga, with his jade-green horny head encased in his bubble helmet of ammonia and methane, and a stingler around his thick waist. His tail was naked, with raw patches of green skin showing through scales. He was shedding. He grabbed me by the hair and shook me. “Get up,” he said in stelspeak, “ye Terran pritcull.”
    I guess that was some vermin species of Altair's fourth planet out. I stood up and realized my knees were still shaky. “How did you find me?”
    Huff opened his mouth to answer, but Zorga glared at him and he shut it.
    “Huff?” I said.
    He kept his head lowered and wouldn't meet my eyes.
    “C'mon, Huff,” I urged him. “How did you find me?”
    Zorga took my clothes from where I'd draped them over the low wall to dry, and threw them at me with a meaty hand.
    I caught them.
    The clothes were still clammy and full of sand. I shook them out and