Whirlwind_Valos of Sonhadra

by Ripley Proserpina

  Aveline paused, grasping the wall where she stopped. She’d taken a zigzag path throughout the day. There was no pattern to her movement; something caught her eye, and she investigated.

  A soft click caught her attention, and she whipped her head in the direction of the sound, squinting. The sound came again. It reminded her of the noise the doors on the Concord made when they opened and shut. Like a lock snicking into place.

  She waited, breath held, but nothing followed. She took a tentative step toward the nearest house.

  Her foot hadn’t touched the ground before something grasped her shoulders, lifted her into the air and over the wall, then dropped her, hard.

  Fully expecting to see one of the guys, she was frozen when what she saw wasn’t a human form. Her gaze went up, and up, and higher still as the thing in front of her seemed to stand to its full height.

  “Fuck.”

  If Aveline was twice her height, she still wouldn’t be as tall as this creature. It was willowy, and for all intents and purposes, resembled a tree.

  Or an insect who had evolved to look like a tree.

  Instead of hands, it had giant pinchers, one of which dripped red. Probably her blood, if the burning in her shoulder was any indication. Fringed greenery bloomed from its back. All this time, what she’d taken for trees or bushes, could have been this thing. It was perfectly camouflaged.

  It had eyes, large and multifaceted. Aveline could see her face reflected in them, magnified a thousand times. A feathered, hinged mandible opened and shut, and from deep within its thorax, it clicked again. And then again.

  With each click, its thorax glowed bright red, as if a fire was inside its belly. The color grew brighter. Plates slid over plates, the red growing until it was orange and then white.

  It wasn’t until its maw opened, that she realized its plan. One last click, and fire rushed from its mouth.

  A fire-breathing bug. Holy shit, it was a giant fire-breathing bug.

  Aveline threw her body to the ground and rolled. The heat singed her hair and back, but she’d gotten lucky.

  She was up and running before the bug could shoot fire at her again. Her feet pounded against the forest floor as she ran, masking the click of the fire starter.

  But she couldn’t be quiet, because she had to get away. In her mind, she saw the thing, chasing after her, its huge segmented legs propelling it after her.

  Aveline zigzagged, much like she had earlier when she was searching for food. Any second now, she’d feel fire, so all she could do was keep the bug guessing which direction she’d take. The wall was on the side of her body she could see. It was smooth, and as she trailed her gaze along it, she searched for handholds or footholds to help her over.

  With as much energy and momentum as she could gather, Aveline leapt up, but her fingers merely grazed the sides. If she wanted to get over, she’d need a boost.

  She stumbled, falling to one knee when she heard the click behind her. It was close. Too close, and without any options, she flattened herself to the ground. Hoping, like earlier, the flames would pass right over her.

  She wasn’t that lucky.

  The heat started at the soles of her feet, but then it was blown away. Cool air rushed over her head toward the heat, blowing it back from her. The bug made a high pitched squeal, and Aveline rolled to her back in time to see a dark cloud fly over her. It hit the bug in the center of its body, where the fire was beginning to glow again.

  But its legs were angled in such a way that all the creature had to do was step back before it could right itself.

  Another cloud flew toward the bug, this one with golden ribbons, and then another, black, and a finally, a deep gray shot through with rose.

  They’d found her.

  Branesh. Ettan. Aaddhar. Thanasis.

  One by one, they circled the bug. The strength of the air whipped the branches and leaves on the trees. Some of them snapped off, landing with dull thuds on the ground.

  The bug clicked its fire starter, but no sooner had the flames left its mouth than it was blown out like the wick on a candle.

  Aveline scurried back, and the bug flicked its mirrored gaze toward her. Long arms swept across its face as it sucked in breath after breath. Thorax expanding, glowing bright, it set Aveline in its sights.

  From where she lay, yards away, Aveline could make out waves of heat emanating off the bug’s exoskeleton. She scrambled to her feet, but exhaustion and shock made her clumsy, and she tripped.

  Even with only one eye, Aveline could see the hellfire that was about to rain down on her. No one, not even these magical beings whose emotions ran along their skin and who could shift from man to air, could save her from what was coming.

  The first rush of flame, however, was met with air. Their forms combined, rolling like a huge wave toward the fire.

  And it pushed the fire back onto itself, into the creature that had created it. A squeal rose from it, higher and higher until Aveline slapped her hands over her ears. The bug blackened, exoskeleton peeling and crackling beneath the heat until it collapsed, smoking and twitching.

  Shocked, Aveline slowly took her hands from her ears. Her gaze was glued to the creature. She expected it to rise up and begin its assault over again.

  But it didn’t.

  It gave one last twitch and heave, then was still.

  A cool breeze blew across her shoulders before it coalesced into a form. “Are you hurt?”

  Aveline’s eyes closed at Ettan’s words, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  Aaddhar formed next to her, black eyes blazing as red raced across his face and down his neck. “You could have been killed.” He didn’t yell.

  Branesh and Thanasis formed last, almost at the same time. Their colors were different than Aveline had seen before. Both of them were pale as ghosts, a milky white shot through with a gray, which ran to nearly black on Thanasis.

  What did those colors mean?

  Thanasis touched her face, dark eyes taking in every inch of her features. “You don’t look well.”

  She wasn’t well. Deep in the forest, she heard a click, and then another, and another. The sound seemed to be rushing toward them from all directions.

  “Get her,” Aaddhar said to Ettan. “We need to go.”

  In a flash, Ettan had wrapped his arm around her chest, pulled her against him, and flew away. They went up and over the wall and kept going. Beneath her feet, Aveline could make out the tops of houses. They weren’t traveling long before Ettan lowered them to the ground, setting her on her feet before shifting into a man.

  Aveline’s knees gave out as they always did when they traveled like this, but he caught her. He swooped her into his arms, holding her against his chest while his brothers formed around them.

  “Stay here for a moment,” Aaddhar directed. “Thanasis.” He glanced toward a nearby home, then together, the brothers went inside. “This is fine,” Aaddhar called a moment later from the doorway. “We’ll stay here.”

  Aveline said nothing as Ettan carried her through the doorway. This house was in much better shape than any of the others she’d been in. It was much larger, too.

  There was lots of furniture made up of materials that could have been wood or metal. Like every other house, this too was covered in thick layers of dust, but there was none of the ruin and disintegration she’d seen in the other places that still had furniture.

  “She needs a place to rest,” Ettan said quietly, and Aaddhar nodded. Why weren’t any of them yelling at her? She’d messed up. Badly.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but Ettan didn’t answer.

  Not yelling at her was worse, she decided at that moment, than being screamed at. When she’d messed up jobs with her sister, Marisol would inevitably end up screaming at her. But then the anger would pass and they’d move on. Of course, Marisol would bring up her mess-ups constantly, but at least she didn’t have to wait to be belittled.

  “I’m sorry,” she said ag
ain as Ettan took her into what must have been a bedroom.

  “Wait,” Branesh said and quickly shifted. The gust of wind he created blew the dust off the bed and through vents in the wall. “There,” he said, after solidifying.

  Ettan placed her on the bed and eased next to her. “Stay still,” he whispered and placed his hand over her heart. At once, warmth filled her. Golden light spilled from his palm. The pain in her shoulder eased. Then the heat cooled, grazing her back and the back of her legs. Even her thirst and hunger abated.

  “There,” he said. “Better?”

  Aveline nodded. He’d taken care of her. Not only had he healed her from injuries she hadn’t realized she’d received, her body felt energized, like she’d never gone without a meal in her life.

  Ettan, however, didn’t look as golden. His skin had paled to a light yellow, and the glow she was used to seeing had dulled. “It takes something away from you to heal me, doesn’t it?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Branesh answered for him. He’d leaned against the wall, but when Aveline spoke, he pushed off it to approach the bed. “When Ettan heals, he gives part of himself.”

  “It comes back,” Ettan answered quickly. “All I need is time.”

  Aveline touched her palm to his cheek. “Thank you,” she told him. “But don’t do that anymore. I don’t deserve it.”

  A deep sigh erupted from nearby. “Aveline. You don’t understand.” Thanasis’s voice, though quiet, seemed to reverberate through the room. “You are our responsibility. Your health, safety, happiness. It lies with us.”

  These poor beings. Aveline’s heart ached for them. They had gotten saddled with the worst possible female in the universe. Someone completely undeserving of their worry and effort.

  “I wish I could read your emotions,” Branesh said, sliding onto the bed. “You are quiet and pale, but I don’t know what it means. Why did you run?”

  “Yes,” Aaddhar asked. “Why don’t you want us?” The red fled from his skin, and he turned a deep navy.

  “Your skin changes constantly,” Aveline said. She had to turn her body completely to see him fully. “I don’t know what all the colors mean. Are you ever just one color?”

  “When we are at peace, or at ease, most of us are the color of the clouds of Zephyr. Rose and white,” Branesh answered. “Thanasis remains in his executioner’s armor, and Ettan wears a healer’s gold.”

  Aveline nodded slowly. Aaddhar was often black mixed with blue, or a forest green. And all of them, at one point or another, were a milky gray. She went over Branesh’s explanation in her mind, and stuttered to a stop. “Executioner?” She glanced at Thanasis. He was the most intimidating at times, but an executioner? “What does that mean?”

  “Aveline.” Branesh turned her face toward his. “Thanasis will explain his role among the Ventos, but now, you need to tell us why you ran.”

  Aveline couldn’t help the glance she flicked toward Aaddhar. “You said I was your one.”

  “Yes,” Branesh agreed. “You are.”

  “You want me to be with you. You want to take care of me,” she clarified.

  “Yes,” Branesh answered. The other three made sounds of affirmation as well. “You are important to us.”

  Suddenly caged in by their larger bodies, she pushed off the bed. “I explained to you what kind of person I am. I’m not good for you. I haven’t seen anyone else here, but what if you meet another girl? A better girl? I mean—she’s bound to be better than me. You’re not from Earth, so maybe you didn’t understand what I meant when I told you I was a thief. A criminal. I am a bad person. Bad. Wrong. Not good.” With each proclamation she pointed at her chest. “Do you get it? You don’t want me.” Her voice trembled, and she bit her lip. She needed to be hard, and she needed them to understand.

  “An executioner,” Thanasis began quietly, “sees. I see everything. Aveline, I see you. And you are not bad. You are not wrong. No one else could have survived the things you survived.”

  Survivor. Thanasis had hit on the idea that had sent her scurrying from them when they were distracted. But he didn’t know the things that she’d had to endure. Those things hadn’t made her stronger or more self-assured; they’d chipped away at her. They’d made her less-than.

  “What things?” Aaddhar interjected. “What things did she survive, Thanasis?”

  But he ignored Aaddhar and approached Aveline. Thanasis bent at the waist so he could hold her steady with his gaze. “Aveline. The things you’ve done made you the one for us. I do not understand the universe like Branesh, but I know what I see. When I look at you, I see my one.”

  “As do I,” Ettan whispered.

  “And I,” Aaddhar added.

  “Each choice you made led you to that prison,” Branesh said. His tongue tripped over the foreign word. “And there, something happened. You were brought across the universe to us. For us.”

  “You are wholly different than us,” Ettan told her. “Your body, your skin, your colors. But there is no one more perfect.”

  “No one,” Aaddhar said. “You are mine.”

  “Ours,” Branesh corrected. “You’re ours.”

  As they’d spoken, they’d moved closer to her until each of them could touch her. Thanasis touched her hand. Aaddhar her shoulder. It should have been awkward, with Ettan’s hand on her chest and Branesh’s on her cheek, but it wasn’t. It felt right.

  Feel it.

  In her dream last night, she’d realized no matter how things looked, she had to trust her instincts.

  So what were her instincts telling her now?

  Forgive yourself.

  She landed on a new frigging planet—she couldn’t get a fresher start than this one. These were good men. Honest.

  Maybe they were certain she was their one, but what was she certain of?

  Trust them. She wanted to trust them. That was her certainty. She wanted to give them a chance. She wanted to give herself a chance.

  “You want me, despite everything?” she asked.

  Red streamed across Aaddhar’s skin. “Very much,” he answered. “But do you want me? Us?”

  Now it was their turn to look uncertain. It was as if the idea never occurred to them. All of her arguments had been about her history, her past, but she could tell now they wondered if perhaps she just didn’t want them.

  “I do,” she answered. “I do want you. All of you. I’d like to try.”

  “Try to be our one?” Thanasis stood back and crossed his arms. “I don’t know how you would try this.”

  “I mean—” Aveline touched her heart. It pounded so hard she could feel it under her skin. “I want to be the person you seem to think I am. The one I want to be.”

  At her declaration, they smiled, one after the other. It was beautiful. And their colors, Aveline had never seen anything as pure and beautiful as the rush of gold over white that covered them. Their skin looked like the inside of a seashell, gleaming with hidden color depending on the way the light struck them.

  Aveline reached toward Thanasis, hesitating before her fingers touched his skin. She shouldn’t have. He caught her hand when she would have pulled it back and placed it on his chest. Over his—what did they call it?—heartstone.

  She remembered the gems that had fallen at her feet, the colors pouring from their facets to spill into them when she touched them.

  Yes. Aveline wanted to be their one. She wanted it more than she wanted anything in her entire life.

  Chapter Ten

  Thanasis

  Aveline’s hand over his heartstone was doing something to him. It was hard to stay solid. The breath rushed through his body, centering in his cock. He wanted her.

  But he forced himself to calm and to cool the heated air that was burning him up.

  Soon. He allowed himself to imagine that later he would hold her in his arms. Forever wouldn’t be long enough to explore her body.

  Thanasis touched her cheek, turning his hand to run the back over her skin
. She was so soft. And he’d been wrong about her color not changing.

  He could feel the heat beneath her skin and was rewarded with a rosy flush that stained her cheeks. Her breath came faster, tickling his chest.

  What he could do to her.

  “So what do we do now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He loved the way her breath moved over his body. His body shifted, just for one of her heartbeats, before he took on a solid form again.

  “Shelter.” Aaddhar made a list. “Safety. Ettan—what does she need to survive?”

  In the time before the Creators, Aaddhar had been a guard. It was his job to protect Zephyr and the Ventos. He prepared for war, and he thought strategically.

  Thanasis was eternally grateful his brothers had survived. Between the four of them, they had a chance of keeping Aveline alive.

  “Her body works differently than ours, that’s true,” Ettan said.

  “I eat and drink,” Aveline interrupted. “Food. Do you eat?”

  Thanasis stared at her. Eat? Like he’d seen her do when negating an idea, he shook his head. “No. We don’t eat.”

  “What does that mean?” Branesh asked. His brother held all of the knowledge of the Ventos, and after his heartstone was forced into his chest, a good portion about the Creator-made valos, but he wasn’t afraid to admit what he didn’t know.

  “Eating is like—” Aveline touched her fingers to her mouth. “You need energy, so you find food and put it in your mouth, chew it, swallow it, and your body turns it into energy.”

  “Ah!” Thanasis understood. “The air of Sonhadra gives us energy,” he said. “We become our Ventos form and take what we need from its breath.”

  “Oh!” She smiled, pretty white teeth showing in her dark face. He liked the way it looked on her, and he decided then and there, he wanted to see it more often. “I like the way that sounds. But what Ettan did, I wasn’t hungry after you helped me.” Ettan’s color glowed under her praise.

  “When I examined you, I saw what your system needed and provided it,” he explained.