“He is more human than you realize,” Clea said, stretching her hand out into the cold air. She watched, her breath frozen in her chest, as a snowflake fell on her palm and slowly melted. A smile spread across her face, and she began to breathe again. Part of her had worried the small crystals of ice drifting on the wind might be dangerous in some foreign, alien way. But they were just frozen bits of water, just like on Earth. “He will be fine.”
“All the same,” said Ignis as he reached to take the babe from Clea’s arms, “I’d rather be the one to take him off the ship.”
Clea smiled as she handed Kyus to her mate. Seeing Ignis, the strong, fiery Commander of Arda, protectively hold the small bundle that was their son always made Clea’s heart ache in the best possible way. Once Kyus was safe in Ignis’s arms, she turned to the dozen or so women standing behind her.
“So?” she asked, arching her brow at them. “Who wants to have a snow fight?”
The women’s faces cracked from uncertain to elated. But as they surged forward, a loud voice barked at them to stop.
“Halt!” shouted Lucius, one of Ignis’s generals. “I have yet to scan the area for hostile natives.”
Ignis rumbled a laugh. “I may have a family now, Lucius, but I’ve not gone soft. I scanned this region before we landed. Nothing for hundreds of leagues in any direction.”
Lucius stepped past his commander, his gaze hard. He beckoned for one of the other generals. Quintus. “One can never be too certain, Commander. I’d rather check again, if it is all the same.”
“By all means,” said Ignis, stepping back so Quintus and Lucius could have plenty of room.
Clea knew he was caving so easily to this small slight because someone would have to train to become Ignis’s second-in-command. That someone would be either Quintus, Lucius, or Consus, one of Ignis’s three generals. The way Clea understood it, if there was a human equivalent for the Ardan’s age, Ignis would be close to his mid-forties. If Ignis’s flames burned out before Kyus was of age, he would need someone trained and ready to lead the Ardans. But she couldn’t think of that right now.
Lucius pulled out a strange metallic device, eerily like the digipads the Quadras had used in the Medical Bay of the Hub. Holding up the device, he rotated from left to right, scanning the entirety of the area before them. Though how that helps us know what might be behind us, I couldn’t guess, thought Clea, her fingers flexing beside her. The more she settled into motherhood, the more of her old fighting spirit returned. But she knew now that part of that willingness to fight and question others was the lack of faith she had had in humanity for so long. She took a deep breath of the icy air, letting it out slowly. Lucius knows what he is doing. Ignis wouldn’t have made him a general otherwise.
The device in the Ardan general’s hands beeped once, and he turned around. A thin layer of flames coursed around his body, melting the drifting snowflakes before they could touch him. “I can detect no life forms. At all.”
Clea saw him cut his eyes at Ignis, but she ignored it. She surged ahead with the other women, stepping into the soft snow. Her toes were numb in an instant, but with the wide, clear sky overhead and the sound of laughter surrounding her, Clea didn’t care.
A snowball hit her on the side of the face, and she froze, stunned. Her gaze drifted up to the women standing close by. The redhead, Eliza, tossed a snowball gently from hand to hand.
“You hit me,” Clea said as she slowly crouched lower and lower.
Eliza smiled. The snowball flew from hand to hand. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”
“This!” Clea shouted as she scooped up a handful of snow and sent it sailing towards Eliza’s smug face. Her projectile hit its mark, earning her a “Huzzah!” from Ignis.
Eliza’s mouth opened into a perfect circle. And then it was war.
Clea ran through the flying balls of snow back to the bay of the ship, her breath erupting out in great clouds. She stood before Ignis and his generals, her chest heaving.
“I love it here!” she said, her hands braced on her knees. “So much better than Arda. No offense.”
The generals grumbled, but Ignis favored her with a smile. “You certainly look happy, my dearest one. But what about shelter?”
Clea wrinkled her nose at him. “Why are you being coy? You know there are materials on board to build something temporary, until . . .” Her voice trailed away. She was about to say until Ignis could return with a crew of men to build something more permanent. But it was occurring to her now that the Ardans would not be able to get out in the snow unscathed. Not like Ignis could, and only if he was with Clea.
“Yes,” said Ignis as he smiled at the bundle in his arms. “That does present a problem, doesn’t it?”
Clea shivered, from the cold and the eerie way Ignis seemed to be able to read her mind. It had been happening a lot lately, but he had assured her reading minds was not one of his people’s powers. How well her mate knew her still made the hairs on her arm rise.
“Well,” she said slowly as she watched the women frolicking in the field of white before the ship. To see them now, so carefree and unburdened, one would never know the horrors they had lived through. The abuse they had endured. But they aren’t broken. Not by a long shot.
She tilted her chin up at Ignis. “We can do it, then. The women and me. We will make this place habitable.”
The three generals flanking Ignis laughed.
“With all due respect, Clea,” said Quintus, “only an Ardan can craft using our building materials. There is no way any of you humans could generate fire hot enough to meld the pieces together.”
Clea frowned, knowing Quintus was right. She’d like to think that she was capable of being the leader on this new and wild planet, and she could be just that. But being a leader didn’t make one an engineer or a builder. Her gut twisted. Or a medic, or a farmer, or seamstress… All the many problems with their half-cocked plan to relocate on a different planet began to assault Clea’s mind.
She was about to open her mouth to say something when Eliza ran up, her cheeks and nose rosy pink, and grabbed Consus’s arm. The general flinched from her grasp, but it didn’t escape Clea’s notice that being touched by Eliza’s slush covered hands did not wound Consus in the slightest. She and Ignis shared a knowing look.
“What is it, woman?” thundered the Ardan.
Eliza looked up at him from under her lashes, fog blooming with every ragged breath she expelled from her labored chest. “I need you to release your flames.”
Consus drew back from her, as though she’d struck him. “You need me to do what?”
“Release your flames.”
“For what possible purpose?”
Eliza grinned at him. “You’ll see.”
Consus’s frown deepened. “I’d rather you just tell me.”
“Please?” asked Eliza reaching for Consus again. When the alien drew back a second time, she got the message and let her hand fall. “Just for a second?”
Consus grunted but took a step toward the ledge of the bay. “Where?”
Eliza clapped her hands gleefully. She pointed at a space to the right of the cargo bay opening.
The Ardan general took a deep breath, channeling his flames from his spine down the length of his right arm. Tendrils danced from his fingertips to the space Eliza had indicated.
“Bigger,” she requested, leaning into Consus’s left side.
A small smile tugged at the edges of his lips and he complied, throwing his flames into a wider circle. But he shrugged Eliza’s hand off him.
“That will be trouble at some point,” said Ignis close to Clea’s ear.
She blew on her numb fingers, staring at the circle of fire lustfully.
“Perhaps,” she said slowly, her eyes flicking over to stare at the way Eliza was looking at Consus. “Or perhaps it will be useful.”
Ignis grunted. “In what possible way could Eliza’s infatuation with one of my generals be useful?”
“Don’t go throwing that just at Eliza’s door,” said Clea as she jutted her chin toward Consus. “He likes her back. I’d bet my bottom dollar on it.”
Ignis smiled down at her. “Your Earth expressions are so strange.”
“Doesn’t make me any less right, though.” Clea grinned. “But you said you plan on sending the generals on outreach missions, correct?”
“And you think Eliza should go with Consus?”
Clea narrowed her eyes at her mate. It was nice having someone who knew her so closely, even if the severity of that closeness gave her chills. But it would be nice to be able to express herself before Ignis latched onto her meeting. “Yes, I do.”
Ignis sighed. “I don’t see the purpose in that, love. But I bow down to your superior wisdom for now.”
Clea’s lips twitched. “As you should.”
“That’s enough!” shouted Eliza, her face bright and merry.
Consus called his flames back. The general then stood with his arms crossed over his massive chest, frowning at the circle of water he’d just created.
“What was the purpose of that?” he asked Eliza, frowning down at her.
“Just wait,” she said gleefully as she tiptoed into the snow. She walked over to the smooth circle and ran her fingertips over it. A second later she stood and pressed her boot against it. She beamed at the other girls. “Who wants to go skating!”
The other women screeched and squealed, tripping over themselves to join Eliza on the ice.
Ignis turned to his generals. “Go and begin bringing materials to the bay. We’ve a long night ahead of us, lads.”
The generals inclined their heads and went to do their commander’s bidding. But Consus hung back.
“What if hostiles appear, sir?” asked Consus, his eyes flicking over to where Eliza glided across the ice. “Shouldn’t one of us stay behind to guard you and the women.”
“All will be well, Consus. You said so yourself: there are no life forms at all for leagues, hostile or otherwise. We will be fine,” said Ignis.
Consus inclined his head once more, but his face looked worried. He looked over Ignis’s shoulder at Eliza one last time before he strode after the other generals.
Seeing as the women were all entertaining themselves, Clea took Ignis by the arm. “Come. Let’s see how Kyus likes the snow.”
2
Ignis
With Clea’s hand on his arm, it was easy enough for Ignis to brave this strange, foreign world of frozen water. But his heart still pounded violently in his chest at the thought of anything happening to Kyus. The babe’s eyes opened and gazed up at the gray sky, squinting at the intensity of the light. Small flakes of white drifted down, landing on the blanket.
“You can pull it back, Ignis,” said Clea softly. “I promise. He will be fine.”
Ignis grunted. He was an Ardan, a warrior through and through. He had watched his friends fall on the fields of battle. Had watched his first wife, Gylenda, die before his very eyes. But just the thought of something happening to his infant son was enough to bring him to his knees.
He gave Clea a hard look. “If you are certain.”
She smiled at him. “I am, love.”
Ignis took a deep breath, feeling his flames tingling against his spine. If a single crystalline flake hurt Kyus, his own flames would be ready to unleash and burn the others away. On the exhale, he peeled the blanket away from Kyus’s face. As the first bit of white landed on the lad’s nose, Kyus screwed up his face, his nose wrinkling. And then the boy laughed his very first laugh.
The thick layer of fear around Ignis’s heart fractured, and his lips stretched into a grin as more flakes fell on Kyus’s face, drifting down to light on the ebony tufts of the boy’s hair. And with each bit of white that landed to melt against his rosy cheeks, Kyus laughed, squirming in his blanket.
“See?” said Clea as she reached up to brush a bead of melted snow from their son’s brow. “I told you all would be well.”
“I really should listen to you more, woman.” Ignis grinned down at her. “You are often my better in that regard.”
Clea narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twitching as though she were trying her damnedest to rein in her smile. “You are only saying that to make me happy.”
Ignis shrugged. “It is a husband’s duty to make his wife happy.”
Clea blinked quickly, her curling lashes blinking quickly making her tears dissipate. “You have made me more than happy, Ignis.”
Just as Ignis was about to kiss his woman, loud shrieking filled the air.
On impulse, his flames released, casting out to swirl around him and his mate. Kyus thrashed in his arms, agitated because he could no longer see the snow.
“Shh, my son,” said Ignis as he bounced the lad in his arms, trying to calm him. Clea was safe in the eye of this storm of fire Ignis was controlling around them, but she would burn if the boy got angry enough to release his own flames. To his relief, Kyus settled.
“What is going on?” asked Clea, her voice laced with panic and fear. “I can’t see anything.”
Ignis narrowed his eyes, squinting to see past the flames. The Earth women around them were still screaming, but at what, he did not know. He could see nothing.
“We are going to walk backwards to the ship,” said Ignis slowly, his eyes still scanning past the fire, scouring the area for any signs of what could possibly be making the Earth women panic so. “If we walk together, you should be safe inside my flames. Do you unders—”
A loud roar rumbled before them, cutting off Ignis’s words. Kyus jerked in his arms, hot, angry tears sizzling down his fat cheeks. The blanket began to smoke.
Shit, thought Ignis as he locked eyes with Clea. She must go on her own.
“Open your flames,” commanded his mate, choking on the thick, acrid smoke of their son’s blanket burning. “I’ll make a run for it.”
Ignis’s heart beat against his ribs, quivering as the beast before them roared again. Kyus screamed, thin tendrils of flame snaking out from beneath the fabric surrounding him.
Taking a deep breath, Ignis groaned, forcing his flames to part just wide enough that Clea could escape before their son made the area in which she stood a fiery inferno. He shifted, cradling Kyus to his chest, to watch as the Earth women ran to the bay ramp. His generals were in the bay, hastened forth by the roar of the creature now at his back.
Through the screams and the sizzling of the blanket as Kyus wailed and burst into flames, Ignis could hear it—the sound of great feet crunching across the ice-crusted snow. Now, it was something unmistakable: since the first roar had sounded, the temperature around them had declined, causing the snow to crystalize. Even now as he watched Clea and the rest shamble up the ramp, he could see the metal of his ship beginning to frost, the slick crystals of ice creeping up before his very eyes, encapsulating the vessel in a thin sheen of white.
Clea, leader that she was, was taking a head count of the women, making sure no one had been left behind. The creature roared again, and her head snapped up to peer into the wilderness from which they had ran. It was then that her gaze landed on Ignis and their son.
“Ignis!” she called, panic in her eyes.
She drove down the ramp to flee to him, but Ignis barked, “No! Stay!”
His generals raced to catch her, dragging her back at their Commander’s orders. She thrashed in their arms, her eyes blazing like any true Ardan’s.
Ignis was proud of the way she fought to get by his side once more, but he knew without a doubt that doing so would only result in harm against herself. At the hands of the beast lurking just outside his flames or from the angry heat of Kyus’s own fires, he didn’t know. But no good could come from her venturing back into the snow. And he and the boy could not go into the bay, not with Kyus in such a state. The poor lad would burn all the women inside; there were no two ways about it.
His heart a leaden stone sinking deeper and deeper into his gut,
Ignis held his son tightly against his chest and gave the order, screaming the words so his generals would hear over the den.
“Shut the bay door!”
With a face like a mask of stone, Consus did as Ignis commanded while Lucius and Quintus pinned Clea to the wall. She screamed, her arms stretching out as if she could reach across the great distance and grab her mate and her son.
The bay door closed slowly, inhibited by the hoarfrost that thickened the more the creature at his back growled. And that somehow made it worse. He didn’t know what the beast at his back was or what danger it presented. Gods, he didn’t even fully know how he would fight the damned thing with his infant son in his arms. But he would fight with his last breath if it meant he might keep Clea and Kyus safe.
The whites of Clea’s eyes glistened out at him, tears slipping down her cheeks like snow melt, when the bay door finally closed, sealing out Ignis and the creature that stood behind him and his son.
Gently patting Kyus on the back to sooth the lad, Ignis turned to face the beast.
But he saw nothing.
3
Nor’Ak
The females fled into the strange black shape, leaving the swirling ball of hellfire burning in the snow. Nor’Ak’s body ached being so close to it, feeling the death of each sliver of ice as it melted under the heat of the flames. He roared again, and one of the females screamed in the shape. And then, as if by magic, the shape morphed, devouring the females inside.
Nor’Ak fell to his knees in the ice, too distraught to even howl his sorrow. The Elots had been dwindling in number, their females all succumbing to a strange sickness. They were dying out. Going extinct. And when he had come at the snow’s summons, fleeing across the tundra to obliterate whatever force was robbing the land of its chill beauty, he had been surprised to see the black shape marring the horizon. Doubly surprised to see that almost a dozen females danced and frolicked in the snow before the gaping maw of the blackness.
Stars, Snow and Mistletoe: A Holiday Naughty List Collection Page 27