Callie's Catastrophe: Icehome Book 9

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Callie's Catastrophe: Icehome Book 9 Page 19

by Dixon, Ruby


  Then, we turn the bend in the cave and can see our visitors.

  They are not goats.

  I do not know what they are.

  I straighten immediately, even as Calida murmurs a soft “What the fuck?” behind me. My grip on my spear is tight.

  Even so, they see us.

  My first instinct is that they are people. They have long limbs, arms and legs and tails just like us. That is where the similarity ends, though. Their “fingers” are tipped with long, lethal claws, their eyes are large and odd, and they are covered with fur like the goats. They squat, picking through our bags and one savagely tears apart the dried fish I had saved with his beaky mouth.

  There are three of them, and they look up the moment we pause at the sight of them.

  One hoots angrily, swiping at us from afar. Another clutches at my pack, holding it to its chest as it retreats a few steps, and the other grabs the string of dried fish and bolts from the cave.

  The one that remains hisses at me again, snapping its beak.

  “Stay back,” I tell Calida, putting a hand up to stop her. “I will handle it.”

  “What the fuck is it?”

  “I do not know.” It is not like anything I have seen at the beach. I try to recall other creatures that the hunters warned me about but my mind was too distracted with resonance. I did not pay attention. Now I wish I had.

  The largest one lifts its head and hoots again, waving one hand as the other two scurry out of the cave. In the distance, I hear more hoots, and my scalp prickles. How many of these are in a pack?

  I hear Calida take a few steps backward and some of the tension eases. Good. The farther away she is, the safer she is. If only one of these creatures attacks, I can handle it. I worry about the calls of more outside. If we are rushed by five or more, I am not sure I can protect my mate.

  And protecting her is the most important thing.

  I move forward, tail flicking in an irritated, warning pattern. I bare my teeth at the creature when it does not back down. It has eaten my supplies, stolen food from my mate, and now threatens her? “If you do not leave, I am going to wear you as a pelt,” I warn it in a deadly voice.

  It hoots at me again, but takes a step backward, as if trying to decide if it wants to fight me or run.

  “Vamonos!”

  My mate runs up to my side and before I can stop her, she flings something forward. It is the water pouch we use for cooking over the fire. It slaps against the creature with a wet splat and old tea from last night sprays all over it and the cave floor.

  The thing shrieks and scuttles backward.

  I chase after it, yelling and shaking my spear. It howls as it races out of the cave, and by the time I make it to the entrance lip, I see nothing but fleeing creatures taking to the slopes, scrambling away as fast as they can. I count them instead, making note of two hands of creatures —six—before they move out of sight. I eye the moonlight-covered snow suspiciously, wondering how many more are hidden just out of sight, watching me.

  Waiting for me to sleep again so they can come back and steal more from us.

  “M’tok?” my mate calls, her voice worried. “Are they gone?”

  I turn around and head inside, nodding. “For now.”

  “We should build up the fire in the front of the cave,” Calida suggests. “Keep them away.”

  Smart. I want to grab her and clutch her to my chest…and then shake her for risking herself. The water trick was clever, though. “Whatever those things are, they are skittish. You were smart to scare it like that.”

  She looks surprised and pleased at my praise. “I just wanted to distract it long enough so you could gut it.”

  I make a face. “We are not eating those.”

  “God, no.” Calida holds her nose. “But I’m guessing we know what lived here before we got here.”

  Grunting in agreement, I pick through the mess in the cave, finding the last of our fuel chips and tossing them into the old fire pit near the entrance. I bend down and start to make a fire. “Watch the entrance in case they return. Take my spear.”

  She sits by the fire pit and gives me a gentle push. “You go guard the entrance. I can make a fire.”

  I nod. It makes sense. Before I get up, though, I pull her tightly against me and bury my face in her mane. I hold her naked form against my body and breathe in her scent, relieved that she is unharmed.

  I have to think of both my mate and the kit she carries, and the thought fills me with utter fear. “I will protect you,” I vow to her.

  “I know.” Her voice is gentle. “I trust you. It’s ok. You didn’t know those things were here or you wouldn’t have brought me.”

  She understands me, even when I do not say the words. I kiss her brow again, and then get to my feat, scooping up my spear and watching the entrance. There will be no sleep for me tonight…or any other night we are out here. I have brought her to this dangerous place. There is a reason a perfectly good cave like this one is deserted.

  “Jesus Christ, they shit everywhere,” Calida moans. “How long were they in here?”

  “Long enough.” I grit my teeth, trying not to think about how close they were to where my mate slept, vulnerable, in my arms.

  “I swear they crapped on everything. Ugh. And the smell.” She makes a gagging sound. “We should burn everything they touched.”

  I grunt with amusement, keeping my gaze on the cliffs. I want to help her with the fire, but it is better if I protect her for now. Instead, I am silent. I think about all the things I have done wrong. I hung food to dry in the cave without guarding it. I kept no fire burning at the entrance to the cave. I never checked for tracks or spoor in the area. I thought because this cold land had no kaari that it was much safer than the island. I can camouflage and blend in with the snow, but my mate cannot. She is utterly vulnerable.

  This all changes now. A fire will be kept going at the front of the cave at all times. Calida and I will carry knives. We will keep extra pouches of water full to scare off the creatures if they return again…

  And we will leave this place. I eye the clear, moonlit night.

  If the weather holds, we leave in the morning.

  I will not risk my mate for anything. It does not matter if it is peaceful here in our mountain cave. There is no peace for me if she is in danger.

  26

  CALLIE

  M’tok is quiet after the yetis leave. At least, I don’t know if they’re yetis, but my brain needs to call them something, and “abominable snowman” is too much of a mouthful. Once I get a fire blazing, I toss in all the leather scraps they crapped and pissed on—and the damn things crapped and pissed everywhere. I’m sad to see that my spare tunic with my first few tentative bits of embroidery is ruined, and add it to the flames. I can always make another tunic.

  It’s M’tok I’m worried about. I remember him telling me that he blamed himself for not being there when his family was killed. I can follow the breadcrumbs and know how his mind is at work now - he’s blaming himself for getting lost and bringing me into the mountains. It’s nobody’s fault.

  Well, it’s a little his fault, but he had good intentions. And I haven’t been unhappy. I’ve been the opposite of unhappy, really. Ever since I got here—even before I resonated—I felt depressed and unsettled. Resonance to a man I hated just made it worse. But I haven’t been sad or struggling in the last while. I’m sure some of it is sex endorphins, but I haven’t needed Steph’s “five things” list to cheer myself up. Just talking to M’tok helps. The sewing and embroidery helps, too. I didn’t realize how much I liked making pretty things or how much it bothered me to wear ugly, shapeless leather clothing. Now I keep thinking about ways I can improve my tunics, colors to try for thread dyes, patterns to put at the edge of a cloak or a boot. I feel…inspired.

  I’m happy.

  And now that I’m happy, I don’t want M’tok to be sad or worried. I glance over at him as he waits near the entrance, scanning t
he cold mountains and watching for interlopers. He’s still totally naked, his long hair fluttering in the early morning breeze. Dawn hasn’t arrived yet, which means it’s bitterly cold. I mumble something about putting my own tunic on and go back to our bed, getting his tunic and a blanket, and I carry them out and gently drape the blanket over his shoulders.

  “You’re not going to sleep ever again, are you?” I tease. I’m only half-joking, though.

  The look he gives me is full of self-reproach.

  “Come on, sunshine.” I tuck the blanket around him. “No one got hurt. They left. It’s going to be okay.”

  “They could come back,” he warns me. “In greater numbers.”

  Clearly he’s a glass half-empty sort of guy.

  “If the weather holds, we are leaving in the morning.”

  I cross my arms over my tunic, determined not to shiver in the bitter cold or else he’s going to give that blanket to me. “We can leave. I’m fine with that.”

  He shakes his head slowly. “I should have never taken you from the village. It was never my goal to threaten your life or to put you in danger. You have to know I would never want that.” M’tok gives me a tormented look. “I only wanted you to give me a chance.”

  “I’m not blaming you.” I run a finger lightly along the arch of one of his long, proud horns that jut from his brow. “I’ve been happy here. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m still going to drug you when I get a chance, but I don’t have regrets.” And I smile at him. “You shouldn’t either.”

  “The only regret I have is if I have put you in danger.”

  “Then we leave in the morning and find that shortcut you mentioned. You think the paths will be clear?”

  The look he gives me is grim. “Even if they are not, we are leaving. I will carry you if I need to.”

  I laugh at that…but then I realize he’s serious.

  Damn.

  * * *

  Since I can’t sleep either, I pack up our things. M’tok keeps a watchful gaze on the rocky mountainside, but no yetis return to bother us. All is quiet. I don’t like how frustrated M’tok is with himself right now, so I deliberately pack the bag in ultra-messy fashion so he can nerd out on it later. It’ll give him something to do.

  It’s not like there’s a ton to pack anyhow. The stuff we had prepared for food storage has been destroyed, so there’s no food supplies. Water’s easy enough to come by, but our spare tunics were trashed and burned. We can’t really take my dye dabblings and since the things carried away M’tok’s regular pack, all we have left is the spare we picked up at the hunter cave. There’s clothes for both of us, his spear, our knives, a few cooking utensils, one waterskin, some fishing gear, and bundled furs. All the embroidery I’ve done to keep my hands busy on M’tok’s spare tunic is gone. There’s a few tiny vines on the sleeves of his current tunic, but I hate that I’ve lost all that work.

  Then again, after the stink of the yetis, I don’t think I’d want him to wear it again anyhow. Not after they crapped on it. I can make him new, better ones. Some that’ll fit his personality and in different colors, too. Once we get back to the tribe, I’ll be able to experiment more. I’m weirdly excited about going back. Not because it means I get to face everyone and their smug faces who claimed to be right about resonance all along but because I’m ready to start the next chapter. I’m ready to begin that new life—as M’tok’s mate, as a mom-to-be, as a clothing designer. I might even make a good pozole for dinner one night. Not-potato is kind of close to hominy. We’ll see.

  Life just feels like there’s options now. Every day seems a little brighter than the last.

  I pick up the red paint I had mixed on a flat rock and study it, thinking. “You know, we can always head back down the way we came instead of looking for your shortcut.”

  “Hm?” M’tok turns to look at me. Poor guy looks tired, dark circles under his eyes. My chest squeezes with affection. Huh. Affection for M’tok of all people. Go figure.

  Callie of a month ago would have lost her mind at that thought. But I like him. I like being around him. I like being with him. If he was gone tomorrow…I’d be sad. Really sad.

  Devastated.

  Shaking my head to clear it of troubling thoughts, I gesture at the paint. “Want to use this up before we go?”

  His eyes light up and he gives me a knowing look. “You want to decorate the cave wall before we go?”

  “Maybe a handprint or two.” I shrug. “Does that feel wrong to you?”

  “No. I like it.”

  “Then come on.” I gesture at the back cave, where the brightest paintings are. “The suns are practically up anyhow. We’ll make our mark on the cave to commemorate our visit and then be on our way.”

  When he joins me, I lead the way to the back of the cave, past the hot water (that I’m really going to miss) and past more of the stalactites all the way to the back wall, where the faint outlines of four-armed people can still be seen. The hands at the very top of the wall are too high up for us to touch, but it wouldn’t feel right to put ours next to theirs anyhow.

  I look over at my big, strong alien. His expression is thoughtful, his stance still wary as if he half-expects us to be attacked in the cave right now. My heart gives another one of those funny little squeezes and I smile up at him. “It’s going to be all right,” I promise him.

  And I really do feel that it is.

  M’tok touches my chin. “I am glad you see me now,” he says. “Not just resonance, but the hunter behind it.”

  I’m glad of it, too. I wink at him so I don’t blurt out something embarrassing and press my hand into the red dye. “It’s strange to think mine is going to be the first five-fingered handprint on this wall.”

  “I will put mine right next to it so they know you are my strange female and no one else’s,” he offers in that teasing way.

  I chuckle and study the wall, then decide to put a big handprint right at my height. I press my hand against the cool stone, and when I lift it up, my hand is perfectly outlined in red, all four fingers and thumb noticeable. I contemplate for a minute if I should sign it or not…but decide not to. There’s something appealing about being just another person to pass through this cave. I don’t need to declare who I am.

  M’tok takes my hand and flattens his own to my dye-covered one.

  “Sharing dye?” I ask, my stomach fluttering at his touch.

  He smiles at me in that sharp-eyed way of his that makes me hot. “Or I just wanted an excuse to touch my mate.”

  I know how he feels. I press my hand to his a moment longer, and then step back so he can put his hand on the wall. He picks the spot right atop mine, and his print looks different—his fingers long and graceful, his palm lean where mine is round and wide. Side by side like that, we do look awfully alien.

  “It is perfect,” he declares. “Just like my female.”

  I like his way of looking at things. I get a scrap of fur I saved for this moment and wipe my hand clean, and then his, and as I do, I think of my list. Of five things I have to be grateful for this day.

  Every single one of them is the big, Tall Horn man in front of me.

  27

  M’TOK

  We take my mate's “suggestion” that we head back down the steep slopes of the mountain, back to the hunter cave we stayed at the first time. She thinks it is smarter to go the “long way” than to search for my shortcut. I do not point out that there never was a shortcut, and that my goal was to bring her farther up the mountain all along. I do not want her to think I deliberately endangered her.

  The cave is full of supplies and untouched by visitors since we last saw it, so I make my mate a fine meal and replenish my pack, then drag her into the furs and use my tongue on her until she comes twice, and then a third time when I claim her. Calida sleeps that night in my arms, her body tucked close to mine. Trusting. Affectionate. Perfect.

  I am exhausted, but I cannot help but worry about what will happen when w
e return to the tribe. My lies will come out eventually and I do not know how Calida will take them. She will be furious, I suspect. She does not like my lies, and I have already been far too sneaky and furtive already in my attempts to bring her to my side.

  I said that I would never regret my actions, but in this moment, I do.

  I cannot lose her now. Not when I am happier than I have ever been.

  If our mountain cave had proved to be safe? I would still be there with her. I might stay there with her forever. We could start our own clan, learn to climb the crags and steep slopes of the mountain like the goats. Eat fish, live in the cave of my ancestors, and be happy. We would not need anyone else. In fact, we could invite my brother and his stolen mate to come and stay with us. Perhaps even R'jaal and T'chai. Start Tall Horn clan anew in this cold place. R'jaal will never take my mate from me. I trust him.

  It is the rest of the tribe I am not so certain of.

  Once Shadow Cat finds out that I stole my female, they are sure to protest. None of them have resonated. They will view my retreat with my female as a betrayal of our clan truce. It will not matter that Calida resonated to me, because they will know my actions influenced S'bren, and he stole an unmated female. They are not wrong; S'bren is a good hunter, but he is a gentle giant. He is not a leader. I am the one with ideas.

  So that will be my fault as well.

  It occurs to me that my mate does not realize that her friend P'nee was snatched, too, and that is another lie I must add to my pile.

  I get no sleep that night. There are too many things too think about. Too many ways my mate can feel betrayed. Too many ways our fragile bond can shatter now that resonance is fulfilled.

  Too many ways I can lose my mate now that I finally have her.

  * * *

  The others are on us before we can even get to the cliffs that cradle the beach village. T'shen approaches us as we cross one of the valleys close to the beach, heading toward home. He gives us a long, hard look and studies my mate.

 

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