2
Delaney
I shook off the sprinkling of snow once we were inside the cabin and laid Riley down in his crib before taking off his snowsuit.
Then I took off my own coat and scarf, hanging them up to dry before laying our gloves and hats beside the fireplace. The pie was just about finished baking, and I bit my lip excitedly as I pulled it out of the wood stove to cool.
We had wasted an entire day of tree searching yesterday to collect the berries. They were the only thing I knew our friend ate. And the only way I knew that was because the frosted bushes on the outside line of the property had slowly been picked clean.
Pies were a real treat for us these days, due to a lack of supplies. And though it hurt to smell the sweet aroma and restrain my sudden hunger, it was for a good cause. Baking a treat for our protector was the least I could do.
I didn’t know what would have happened to Riley and me all the way out here, all alone, if it hadn’t been for him.
I puttered about in the kitchen silently, boiling some hot tea as I waited for the pie to cool. My eyes kept discreetly straying to the front windows, though. It was getting darker now, and I knew he would be deciding if it was safe to move closer to the cabin. I had to time this perfectly.
Most of the night, he kept to the tree line, but lately, he’d been getting more and more curious. He was a snooper, our lion.
When I caught a quick, dark movement by the trees, I grabbed the warm pie from the counter and rushed over to the door. Holding my breath, I waited for the squeaky board to groan outside the door, flinging the door wide open when I heard him.
I must have startled him more than I thought possible because he tripped over a bucket of poorly-chopped wood and fell over the side of the porch.
“Oh!” I cried, rushing down the steps in my slippers. They immediately soaked through as I stumbled through the snow toward him.
He scrambled to his furry feet and backed away from me.
“Wow,” I breathed in wonder, looking up and up. “I knew you were tall, but wow.”
He blinked at me and raised his meaty hands into the air like I was holding him at gunpoint.
“Hi,” I squeaked, suddenly nervous. I tucked my long blonde hair behind my ear with my free hand. He watched me silently, tilting his head to the side.
Shifting on my feet, I waited for him to speak.
“We baked you a pie,” I stuttered, thrusting it at him.
His narrowed golden eyes moved from my face to the steaming plate and back again. But he didn’t take it.
“I made it with those berries you like,” I tried again.
He looked at my mouth and frowned. I shivered and shifted again, the cold snow seeping into my toes and cable-knit sweater.
He then turned to go, and I choked on a sound of distress. “Don’t go.”
He stopped and looked up at the sky, sucking in a deep breath. His chest expanding, the fur catching on the faint moon light. I looked down in surprise as a dark golden tail flicked in agitation at his feet.
When he stood still a minute longer, not looking at me, I rushed up to him and walked around his body to face him again. “Here, it’s yummy, I promise.” I thrust the plate at him, and he grimaced, looking down at it with narrowed eyes and bared sharp teeth.
I looked down forlornly. It looked so yummy, but you wouldn’t think so by the grimace on his sharp face. He leaned forward, sniffing it and grimacing again, his lips curling up in distaste.
I lowered it back to my waistline, frowning at it. I thought for sure this would do the trick. But now I worried it was a mistake. But I could smell the sweet berries and my stomach reacted out of instinct. It smelled like so good.
He sighed heavily and slowly slid the plate from my hands. I grinned shyly, my watery eyes pointed down at the snow. As I looked up, a little laugh huffed out of me. The plate looked comical in his big hands. More like a tea plate rather than the biggest pie plate I could find. I stuffed my cold hands under my arms and rocked back on my heels. “I’m Delaney.” I smiled bright and wide. “My baby is Riley. He’s a big fan of yours.”
He sighed again and said something fast and growly, his busy brows rising pointedly.
My mouth formed an O. For some reason, I hadn’t thought of this. I didn’t speak alien. He more than likely had no idea what I was saying to him either. I hadn’t ever met an alien. Grandad had said I shouldn’t engage him. We didn’t know why he was here. What he wanted. But he looked nothing like the other aliens, with their white translucent skin and terrifying mouths full of deadly teeth. They didn’t have eyes or any kind of identifying features. The Vitat were monsters. And though this alien in front of me walked and moved like an apex predator the likes of which I had never seen before, there was just something about him that bled comfort and safety to me.
He looked back at me through confused alien eyes and with a face that conveyed his discomfort.
I slapped my forehead. “Doofus.” I forced another smile, shaking my head in self-deprecation. “I probably look like a nut running out here and thrusting a pie at you, throwing my strange words at you. Like now. Again.” I grimaced. “I’m sorry, ugh.” I looked away, muttering unde my breath, “Shut up, Delaney. I just wanted to thank you for watching over us.” I winced, shaking my head. “I’m just going to-” I thumbed over my shoulder, backing away. “Go. Bye!” I ran into the cabin and slammed the door behind me, slumping against it. Riley made a sound of distress, and I cursed myself all over again.
“Sorry, buddy,” I cooed, rubbing his back. “Mommy messed that up. But it’s okay. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
3
Delaney
The pie plate was sitting on the porch the next morning, completely clean. It immediately brightened my spirits after a long restless night. I finished my morning chores, whistling and dancing around the cabin to the amusement of Riley. He tried to copy my twirls, but he was still so uneasy on his feet that he kept falling to his butt.
It was Christmas Eve, and we spent the morning stringing nuts and other things we had collected on our walks for the tree I just knew we were going to find. It was the last day we could look, and maybe that was fate. We would find the most perfect one because it was Christmas Eve.
So, as soon as Riley had eaten his breakfast, we bundled back up and set off to search for our tree––and hopefully spot our friend along the way.
Two hours later, Riley was getting anxious and cold, and there was still no tree. We trudged back to the cabin for an afternoon nap, and I tried so hard to hold onto my hope. But if we went out for an evening walk for a tree, then we wouldn’t have a whole lot of time to sit by the fire and read my old Christmas stories. Or sing Mee-maw’s carols. We would be lucky to have enough time to decorate it––and that was if I could even cut it down and drag it back somehow. All before night fell.
Riley sensed my mood plummeting, and he was a crying mess by the time we settled back in for a nap. I wanted to doze with him, but I still had a few more things to knit onto his presents, so I sniffed our empty coffee can, daydreaming about a steaming cup and sat down in my grandad’s favorite reading chair to knit while I quietly cried.
After he woke up, I started supper and sat down at the stove, breastfeeding him while I stirred the potato soup. Although I’d broken up a few pieces of jerky into it, seasonings were scarce, and the smell of the potatoes wasn’t very appetizing. It was just another hit to my mood. How was I going to fix us a great Christmas dinner without fresh meat? I had just enough ingredients to make a cobbler, but I would have to pick more berries in the morning, and we had spent so long finding them for our friend that I was worried there weren’t any left.
There would be no Christmas cookies or hot chocolate. I didn’t even have proper wrapping paper for my baby.
When a tear dripped onto Riley’s cheek, startling him from my breast, I shook myself and refocused on the tree. We would find it tonight. We needed to find it.
Outside, in the waning sun, we walked to the back of the property, close to the old mill shed I usually avoided because of the dangerous tools that were buried in the snow there. That was also the shed where Grandad had encountered the first Vitat––the one that had taken Mee-maw from us.
But I didn’t know where else to look.
After I had made the thirty-minute trek, I couldn’t muster up any more hopeful excitement. Everything was bare. I could see straight through the brush, and there was not a speck of green anywhere.
It was then that I let all my pain and loneliness and fear consume me; I broke down.
And, of course, Riley cried, so I cried harder.
A rustle and snapping drew our attention to the trail to the cabin, and Riley hushed, his tears drying instantly. He looked at me with a trembling grin, and mine quivered back at him. He pointed, his lips wet and cold. I couldn’t bring myself to look away from his cold face.
What was I doing to my boy?
Out here in the freezing cold? Searching for a stupid tree like it was all that mattered? Like this one mystical tree would fix all my problems?
It was ridiculous. What kind of mother was I that I dragged him outside into this dangerous world every day for something so stupid?
I pulled him to my chest and squeezed him tight, whispering broken apologies into his cold cheek. The truth was, I was a terrible mother. I’d gotten knocked up in my senior year of college by a boy I had just met. I hadn’t even known his last name at the time. I had barely remembered him the next morning. But that next morning, there he had been, cramped on my dorm room twin mattress, bare-assed and snoring.
He’d woken up hours later after I’d chewed every one of my nails down and moved onto biting the sides of my thumbs. He had rolled right out of bed and into his jeans and––with a distracted wave––left my room and my life.
At least for eight weeks. Then I barreled right back into his life with news that would rock both our worlds––or so I had thought. Instead, it had just rocked mine, and he kept on with his like I didn’t even exist.
I had to drop my last semester to move back home to my grandparent’s house and have Riley. It had been Mee-maw’s idea to take a trip out to the cabin this past summer, hoping it would help me move past my post-partum depression.
We had only been there a week when the radio stations exploded with the news. Alien ships had somehow found us, sneaking up undetected. They came down by the thousands and tore our world apart.
They were tall and white, nearly translucent. They had no eyes or ears––just these mouths that split their heads wide and gaped open with dozens of rows of razor-sharp teeth.
I imagined people trembling from excitement in those first few seconds. We weren’t alone.
There really was life outside of our own.
But that excitement had been overshadowed quickly by the horror that––no––they did not come in peace.
They came for food, and we were the meal of the day.
The cabin had saved our lives those first few weeks. We had been easily concealed out here in the mountains. But they had eventually found their way here, and Mee-maw was the loss that opened our eyes to the possibility we may not survive.
Her death was also, sadly, what had finally opened my eyes to the little human life that depended on me. I had been so far gone in frivolous anxieties about college and missing my friends and missing out on parties and school events that I had not been caring for him like I should. Mee-maw had been his caretaker.
But with her death, he had looked to me, and I had realized what I stood to lose––the only thing that mattered. Even now, I still didn’t know what I was doing with Riley, and I was failing him in every way that mattered.
My sobs covered the sounds of our protector creeping closer and closer.
Warmth surrounded us both, lifting us from the barrel where we sat. I nuzzled us into that warmth and let our friend take us from the shed and back to our cabin.
4
Delaney
Hours after the Vitat had invaded, another alien species had come⏤the Dahk and then the Kilbus. These aliens had been our saviors. They had battled the Vitat and defeated them––which had ultimately led to the battle that sent the Vitat ship crashing into Earth. Now, the surviving Vitat were in hiding, but our saviors did not abandon us.
Our warm friend was one of those saviors that had stayed to hunt the Vitat that still terrorized our world.
And he saved us now as he carried us through the door of our cabin, hunching to fit through the door.
He walked to the queen bed and laid us down, his heavy weight stomping through the cabin and shaking the little knickknacks on the walls that Mee-maw had collected over the years. I curled around Riley, soothing him as my own sobs tore up my throat.
Our lion knelt down beside the bed and covered my face with his large hand. It shocked me enough that I sniffled back my sobs and rubbed my cheek into the soft palm. Riley quieted and reached for him too, curling his tiny chubby fingers around his thick thumb and pulling it into his mouth with a grin.
The lion made a gruff sound of amusement and carefully pried his thumb away. He pushed Riley onto his back and settled his other hand across his stomach.
I giggled at the sight. His hand nearly covered Riley from to toe to chin. Our lion looked up at me and moved his fingers across my lips, tapping them lightly, his lips quirking and flashing fang. I smiled wider.
Riley giggled then and kicked his feet wildly, and our lion chuckled once more.
We sat together for a while, Riley pulling and reaching for his hands and hair, and our lion smoothing his hands across us both, petting us until our eyes drooped.
“I need a tree,” I murmured sleepily. “I can’t fall asleep until I find a Christmas tree for Riley.”
The lion shushed me and climbed onto the bed, curling behind us and cradling us against his chest. He purred against my back and covered my eyes, murmuring gruff words into my ear that I couldn’t understand but were soothing all the same.
5
Mak
A tree? That was what they were searching for all this time?
She passed hundreds of them on her walks. What type of tree was so important that it drew her out into the cold so often?
She clutched the cub to her chest as they both slept in my arms, and I purred contentedly. I had dreamed of this very moment. From the first time I had seen them sitting outside her home, I had been captivated by her. Her smile was so bright it blinded me. Her joy so infectious I found myself chuckling as I watched them from afar.
I dared not hope she would ever look upon me without fear. And I had intended to stay away. But the older male was all that had been to care for them. Though he protected his cubs fiercely and provided all he could. He could not protect them from the Vitat. And so I could not leave them.
My brethren did not understand why I would not leave this wood. Why I slept beneath the trees every eve. Why I did not return to the hunt. I did not understand it myself. I only knew I could not leave them. My Xixin brothers would recognize the pull, but not all of us who served the Kilbus Lord were Xixin. And so I was on my own.
I followed them from a distance. Guarding them. Watching over them. And when the male passed, leaving her to fear and grief, I found myself moving closer. They knew I was there––they searched for me. But I could not find the courage to reveal myself.
I was ashamed of my obsession. I could not help but draw closer and closer to the dwelling every eve. She had a cub, but where was her mate? Had the Vitat taken him from them? They were alone, and I wanted nothing more than to take them for myself.
I had not sensed her intention last eve until she thrust open the dwelling door and caught me peering into the portal to watch over them. My shame overwhelmed me, and I wanted to flee.
But she did not scream in fright at the sight of me as so many of the humans had. She was happy and excited, bestowing me with her joy and smile, and I near
ly mounted her then and there. Her embarrassment burned my chest as she realized she could not understand me and wrongly assumed I could not understand her.
I understood every word––and cherished them. So lost in her I was, I took her strange food and forced down every last awful bite. Why did humans do this to their food? She seared it, bleeding the fresh crisp from the berries. It was vile. But I could not stand to see her so sad a moment longer.
I hunted a small wood creature as soon as I finished the last bite of the revolting creation and tore into its flesh just to erase the taste.
Now that she had spoken to me and looked upon me with awe and excitement, I craved her even more. This tree was important in some way.
I stood from the bed reluctantly and covered them both before refueling the pitiful fire burning inside the dwelling. On a small chest sat a stack of brightly colored items. Bending closer, I realized they were ancient records of some kind. Flat scrolls. On one was an image of a tree––it held baubles of various colors and twinkling flames. Beside the tree sat a human family––a mated couple and their three cubs. And I suddenly realized what she was looking for.
She needed a tree that was still lush with life when all that was outside her home was dead and frozen.
I stood tall, banging my head against the roof and cursing quietly. I winced, looking back in relief to see them still soundly asleep. I would get them this tree. I craved her joy, and if this was what had her tearful and bleeding misery, I would bring her back the lushest, largest tree I could find.
6
Delaney
Riley woke me up, climbing onto my chest and tugging my ears painfully. I groaned and rolled to my back, rubbing my eyes. I gasped suddenly and sprang up. Riley squealed and leaped over me, pointing to something at the end of the bed.
Stars, Snow and Mistletoe: A Holiday Naughty List Collection Page 32