by Dixon, Ruby
“It is clever,” I admit. She goes about learning this world differently than I would have imagined, but it is smart to arm herself with knowledge. I reach for the thing and study the mouth. I never thought to look at its teeth, but what she says makes sense. “You are smart, yes? The others say you are the smartest of the human females.”
She sucks in a breath between gritted teeth. “Yikes. That’s awkward. The word ‘smart,’ that is.” D’vi looks uncomfortable at my suggestion. “I mean, I might have the most degrees and college hours racked up, but it’s all in specific sorts of things that don’t apply here. I’m book smart not street smart, you know? Nadine’s already learned a heck of a lot more than I have. If you’re looking for a hunting buddy, I’m afraid I’m not your girl.”
I shake my head, then glance around. V’za is still talking to R’jaal down by where the others are lining up rocks and digging out long strips of the beach. Good. He will not hear when I speak. I lean in closer to D’vi. “I do not wish a hunting buddy. I need help with…a project.”
Her eyes widen. “A project? What kind?”
For a moment, I feel like a fool. Like she will think me strange and mock me. My jaw clenches. I must speak to someone, though. I cannot walk far enough on my own to gather the materials I need. “I need help making a leg.” And I gesture at my stump. “I am tired of depending on others.”
I expect her to laugh. To get a strange look on her face or tell me that my idea is bizarre.
Instead, she simply nods. “Like a prosthetic?”
“Is that what it is called?” My heart thumps painfully in my chest. She knows of such things?
“Yeah, you would attach it at the knee and then use it to support your weight.” She chews on her lip, staring down at my leg, and for the first time, I feel as if someone is staring at me without sorrow. In her eyes, I am not a thing to be coddled and pitied. I am a problem that needs solving.
I am strangely pleased.
“We could always use wood or bone. I’m guessing it’d have to mimic a tibia and be extra strong to make up for the fact that you wouldn’t have an attached fibula, but I also don’t know that much about prosthetics, so I’m just guessing based on anatomy. Your musculature looks to be very similar to mine in the leg region so I’m pretty sure it would just be a matter of finding something long enough that would provide balance and learning to walk on it.” Her expression grows thoughtful. “Maybe some sort of flat surface at the bottom, almost like a snowshoe, so you don’t sink into the sand.”
All her words make sense, but more than that, I like the excited gleam in her eye. She likes this challenge, and I like this, too.
“The hardest part will be to figure out how to get it to stay attached to your leg, but I’m sure I could rig something. Plus, we’ll need some padding so your stump doesn’t get all torn up thanks to friction.” She taps one full lip. “I think I can do this.”
I reach out and touch her arm, and she is startled. “Please, D’vi—I do not wish for the others to know.”
“No?”
“No. I do not want them mocking me if it is a failure.” I clench my jaw. “I am sick of pity.”
“Totally understand. I can keep quiet. I’ll tell everyone it’s another one of my kooky projects and they’ll just roll their eyes and ignore me.” She gives me a bittersweet smile. “Just Devi being Devi.”
“I came to the right person,” I say. “You do not know how much this means to me.”
Her eyes narrow. “Hmm. I’ll do this for you, but I need a favor.”
“A favor?”
“Nothing bad. It’s just…you have a hut, right?”
“It is not mine. It is J’shel’s. I cannot give it to you.” I would if I could, but he built it for H’nah. But if D’vi will help me make a leg and I can walk again? I will make her a hut.
“I don’t want it. I mean, I do eventually want a hut of some kind, or even just a damn floor.” She waves a hand in the air, her words racing out of her mouth. “But that wasn’t what I was asking. I need a favor. I need to store something there. There are too many people in the main sleeping area that all the girls are in.”
“I see.”
She leans in. “And you can’t tell anyone. You have to promise.”
My curiosity flares, but I nod. “You will say nothing about my leg? In case the fake one does not work?”
“Nothing,” D’vi promises and then sticks out her extra finger. “Pinky swear.”
I touch it, not entirely sure what I am supposed to do.
She loops her finger in mine and yanks on it. “That’s a pinky swear. It means this is super serious and if you narc on me, I get to kick your ass.”
“It is not as if I can run from you,” I point out drily.
D’vi tilts her head at me. “I can’t decide if that’s funny or not.” She looks around and then leans in again, her long hair lifting in the breeze. “Can I come by tonight?”
Her mane tickles my skin. “You think you could have it done by then?”
“A prototype at least, sure. It’s just gathering up some materials and rigging it. We’ll try a few different things and then work on finishing it on the sly.” She looks around, distracted, her nose scrunched up.
“Very well.” I fight back my excitement, because this might not work. If I fall flat on my face, I only want one person to see it. “Come to my hut when it is dark.”
“Okay.” She leans in again, breathes deep, and then wrinkles her nose. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“I thought I smelled something dead on the beach, but…ah…it’s you. Sorry.” She leans back again. “See you tonight, all right?” And she trots down the beach, picking up a piece of driftwood and studying it before tucking it under her arm. She studies the waves and then wanders away again, and I get the impression I am forgotten already.
I lift my braid to my nose, noticing absently that my mane is knotted and tangled. I do smell. When was the last time I washed myself? When was the last time I cared enough to? I consider this. No one has been bold enough to tell me that I stink, not even J’shel, who drags me around all day and has probably grown tired of my stench.
But this D’vi female told me right away. She is not afraid to hurt my feelings.
I find that…refreshing. It is a nice change from everyone staring at me with pity. Something rumbles in my throat, and I realize it is laughter.
It seems that I stink.
3
N’DEK
V’za brings me back to the fire a short time later and then I spend the rest of the afternoon and evening at my usual seat at the main firepit. I cannot relax, though. I am on edge, watching everyone as they come and go around the camp. Do they suspect what we are up to? Will D’vi do as she promised? I would have done it myself but she is smart, knowing the others will ignore what she does. If I do anything other than stir the fire, I am set upon by those determined to “help” me. So I watch instead.
Every so often, D’vi flits near the fire, sometimes with a length of bone in her hand, or a piece of wood. She winks at me when no one is looking and then heads off again, and people just shake their heads. They return to talking of the games, and how they will be handled.
“We should have two teams,” the youngest female says. I do not know her name, but she flirts with the youngest sa-khui male constantly. Even now, he sits next to her, drinking in every word. “You know, like in Survivor?”
“I never saw Survivor,” another person says. “How does it work?”
“We do schoolyard picks and make sure that the teams are evenly human and alien, that way it’s all fair. What do you think, Sessah?” She flutters her lashes at the male at her side.
“Yes,” he agrees. “Just as Tee-ah says.”
A female seated on the other side of Tee-ah rolls her eyes. “Like I was saying, on Survivor, they have teams. Everyone has headbands of their team color, and on some challenges, they have to work together, and on some they do
it alone but score points for their teams—”
“I pick Bree-shit,” A’tam says quickly, interrupting the conversation. “She is on my team.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” the one called Bree-shit says. It occurs to me as she jumps to her feet that I have learned no one’s names except for those that have resonated to my clan. I know L’ren. I know H’nah, but many of the others I have not bothered to learn. The one called Bree-shit—or B’shit—looks irritated by A’tam as he strides forward. “What if I don’t want to be on your team?”
“You do,” he says smugly. “We will win. M’tok will be on my team, as well.”
Another female sighs, and I recognize this one as the brown-maned female who resonated to M’tok and glares at him with every chance she gets. She picks up her sewing, scowls in the direction of M’tok, and then quietly leaves camp.
“See what you did?” B’shit accuses. “You guys just can’t let this crap go and now you’re driving Callie away.”
“Perhaps if you females were more reasonable—”
B’shit holds her hand up, cutting him off. “You do not want to go there, buddy. I am plenty fucking reasonable.”
“Guys,” another female says, this one a more gentle voice. “Let’s not argue, all right?”
She seems to be the only one that wishes for there to be no arguing. Everyone else in the camp is watching B’shit and A’tam as they confront each other. Again.
“I am not arguing,” A’tam says, trying to sound reasonable. “I wish to know when B’shit will realize she is my mate and stop this foolishness.”
“Hope ya like waiting,” B’shit says, crossing her arms over her chest. “And for the hundredth time, it’s Bridget, all right?”
“Bree-shit,” A’tam agrees, and the female across from him groans. He ignores her groan. “Why would you say you are not mine?”
“Why do you think I am yours? Isn’t it resonance that decides?” She puts a hand to her ear dramatically. “Because I don’t hear us resonating.”
At the edges of the camp, I see D’vi sneaking behind people. She walks past the group gathered to watch A’tam and B’shit argue, plucks a freshly cleaned bone from one of the baskets near the fire and then walks away again.
A’tam speaks once more. “Give it time—”
“Or,” B’shit cuts in. “Maybe we’re not meant to be together. Maybe I’m going to resonate to someone else.”
A’tam visibly bristles. He does not like this suggestion at all. “Like who?”
B’shit glances around the campfire. “Maybe N’dek.”
I frown, forcing myself to pay attention when all I truly want to do is see what D’vi is up to. “N’dek what?”
“Maybe I resonate to you,” B’shit says, her hands on her hips. “It could happen.”
A’tam glares at me as if this is somehow my fault. “He would not dare.”
“Uh, hello,” B’shit says. “Resonance chooses, remember?”
All eyes are now on me, as if the entire tribe waits to see if my khui will suddenly begin to sing. I study the female standing nearby. B’shit is not as tall as D’vi, or as brown. Her hair is lighter and shorter, but she has larger teats and wider hips. Her face is pleasant enough, but I do not feel particularly moved at the sight of her. If we are to resonate, would I not feel…something? K’thar says he felt it the moment he saw L’ren. J’shel resonated the moment he saw H’nah. My parents were drawn to each other as kits and grew to adulthood knowing they would someday belong to one another.
I feel nothing for B’shit. Annoyance, perhaps, that she has drawn me into her argument. But…maybe I am wrong. Maybe she feels something and my khui is not yet attuned to hers.
Perhaps I should take this more seriously.
Perhaps she knows something I do not.
Astonished, I watch the female as she casts a triumphant look at A’tam and returns to her seat. The other hunter scowls at her and storms away, and it grows quiet around camp, and then conversation slowly starts once more.
I watch B’shit, waiting, but she does not look at me again. Is she fighting it as H’nah did? Will my khui begin its song soon?
If so, it would be wise to prepare. I must get my leg fixed with D’vi’s help. Then I will be just as strong and capable as any other hunter.
As strong and capable as I was before.
DEVI
I feel like a naughty teenager as I lie in the furs, waiting for everyone to drift off to sleep so I can sneak out. I’ve been running around camp all afternoon gathering supplies, and worked on the leather harness tonight at the back of the group clustered near the campfire. Whenever anyone asked what I was working on, I told them it was a bra. That usually ended the conversation and by the time everyone drifted off to bed, I had the basics put together. I feigned sleepiness and turned in to my bunk, even though I wasn’t tired. My brain is buzzing, but I do my best to pretend to sleep even as Steph crawls into the bundle of furs opposite mine. She’s a heavy sleeper and won’t notice that I’m gone. I hope.
I guess if anyone does miss me, I can just tell them we’re hooking up like A’tam and Bridget did.
Then again, maybe not. Not after how badly that turned out for all parties.
Eventually the crowded cave gets quiet, and I wait just a little longer, until I can hear Raven’s gentle snoring.
Perfect.
I get out of bed and ease to my feet. I slept in my leggings and boots so I wouldn’t have to put them on again, and throw a fur cloak over my shoulders, then clutch my large tote bag to my chest. Inside it are the pieces to N’dek’s leg prototype, plus all the skins that I need him to hide for me. I’m glad it’s dark, because there’s no way I’d sneak such a bulky pack out of camp without a dozen people getting curious. I tiptoe toward the entrance of the cave.
Sam sits up, her hair cascading down her shoulder as she rubs her eyes. “Devi?” she whispers. “Everything okay?”
I freeze, caught. “Um…yes, it’s great. Thanks. Go back to sleep.”
“What’s in the bag?”
Frantically, I try to think of something. “Uh…equipment?”
“For….?”
Why else would I be sneaking out at night? I feel pinned in place, my feet stuck until I find a decent answer, one that won’t implicate N’dek in any of this. He made it clear no one is to know, and I get that. He doesn’t want to be mocked or have it thrown in his face if it doesn’t work. But why else would I be sneaking out at night? “Ah…sex?”
Hopefully that shuts her down.
Her brows furrow. “You need a bag for sex?”
“Sex toys,” I whisper, and then put a finger to my lips. “You’ll keep my secret?”
Her eyes widen and she nods, lying back down again.
Okay, Sam thinks I’m a weirdo, but at least I’m outside now. She’ll figure it out when the time is right, and I’ll have to remember to think of my lies ahead of time. For now, I focus on placing each foot quietly onto the sand so I make as little noise as possible. The women’s cave is on the far side of the camp, which means I have to cut through Strong Arm’s tent encampment, pass by the main fire pit, pass the last few tents of Tall Horn and Shadow Cat, and then I can make it to the huts that crawl along the cliffs of the beach.
Luckily, it’s late at night and all is quiet. The main fire is banked and nothing but coals, and N’dek isn’t near it like he normally is despite all hours of the night…because he’s meeting me. In his hut. I pause as I near the crashing waves, wondering if there are some exciting specimens that have washed up in the night. Longing ripples through me but I force myself to turn toward the huts. One thing at a time. I promised I’d do this for N’dek, and I always keep my promises.
I study the huts, trying to remember which one is his. I don’t want to crash into A’tam or S’bren, because that would be mighty awkward. A’tam, because he’ll for sure ask me about Bridget, and S’bren because he kept trying to feed me at the beach and will probably t
ry to feed me again.
I find the hut I think belongs to N’dek and pause on the front step. Like all the other beach huts, it’s lifted off the ground on a wooden platform made of driftwood from the island, and the top is made of leather like a teepee. There’s a curl of smoke coming from the top to show that someone’s home, but otherwise all is quiet. I eye the leather screen over the doorway, wondering if I should knock or just let myself in.
I settle on neither. I hoist myself and my pack onto the platform, press my face to the screen, and then whisper, “N’dek!” as loudly as I dare.
“I am here,” a familiar voice says. “You can enter.”
So I did pick the right hut. I’m rather proud of myself for that. I push the screen aside and quickly enter before anyone can see me.
The moment I step inside, it immediately feels warmer, thanks to the central firepit. Pleased, I glance around the hut, looking for N’dek…and then bite back a yelp.
He’s seated directly across from me, in front of the fire. There’s a large bowl of water in his lap and he’s naked.
“What are you doing?” I manage to choke out.
He grins at me as if the answer was obvious. “You told me I smelled. I am washing myself.” He wrings out his long, thick hair and flicks it over one impossibly broad shoulder, and then sets the bowl aside.
And my goodness, he is quite the specimen below the belt. I know I shouldn’t stare, but I can’t seem to help myself. N’dek and all of the aliens—natives, really—from the island are all easily seven feet tall and dwarf us humans, even a tall stringbean like myself. He’s big and bulky and so of course he’ll have a rather large penis. He’s also an alien and not human, so it stands to reason that his equipment will be slightly different.