by Tamsin Ley
“We’ve reached Kirenai Prime, yes. What’s happening on Earth?”
Zhiruto scratched his head. “The transporters are still locked down, and all but one of the IDA guests are accounted for—thirteen Kirenai are dead.”
Arazhi closed his eyes a moment. “That’s terrible. Any survivors?”
“The Khargals and the Fogarian are fine. Three Kirenai are alive but in critical condition. A human doctor has been consulting with one of our healers in orbit and administering treatment. No prognosis yet. Any word on your father?”
“We’re still in orbit. I’ll contact you again after I see him.”
Zhiruto nodded. “Arazhi, I believe our suspect may be a burendo. It’s the only explanation for how he’s evading detection.”
Arazhi frowned. Although Kirenai could assume different forms, altering one’s coloration outside of various hues of blue was a rare skill. Burendo could change color as well as shape, allowing them to blend in with local populations with extreme success. They were often hired as spies or assassins. “I thought the IDA had screened the guests. How did a burendo get an invitation?”
“I don’t know yet.” Zhiruto pulled back to show a woman sitting on a sofa next to a large, furry reddish quadruped with floppy ears and a long muzzle. The creature had its head in her lap, and she was rubbing its ears. “This human is a member of local law enforcement. She has a plan to get us back onto the site to look for leads.”
Georgie shouldered in closer to see the screen. “Lora?”
The woman’s eyes widened, and she shot to her feet, moving next to Zhiruto. “Georgie? Where are you? What’s going on with your skin?”
“Oh.” Georgie looked at her glowing forearms. “It’s painted on, don’t worry. I’m fine. What’s happening there? Is everyone okay?”
“Depends on your definition of okay. No humans are dead, but the aliens are understandably upset. It doesn’t help that the NSA quarantined everyone for nearly two days. The aliens who are still alive are locked down.” She shot a wary glance at Zhiruto. “Except this one. He managed to escape and asked for my help finding the murderer.” She frowned, scanning the background through the camera. “Where are you, anyway?”
“I’m currently orbiting an alien planet, believe it or not.” Georgie laughed, sending a shiver of discomfort across Arazhi’s Iki’i. “I’m heading back to Earth now. I should arrive in a few days.”
“Girl, don’t.” Lora held up a palm. “The NSA’s been looking for you. They consider you a person of interest, and they’re assholes. You do not want to end up in their hands. Plus, if more aliens show up, they’ll tighten security again and mess up my plan to get back inside the park.”
Arazhi allowed himself a smile. As much as he wanted to grant Georgie’s wish to be reunited with her friends, he wouldn’t be upset if this woman convinced her to stay with him longer.
Georgie looked at him. For a moment, he worried she knew what he was thinking. Then she turned back to the screen. “I guess I can stay here a while. But I’ll be in touch. Take care of yourself, okay?”
“You, too.” Lora blew her a kiss.
Zhiruto’s face took over the screen again. “Glad to see you got your human off planet.”
Arazhi nodded. Though he’d mistakenly assumed Georgie was to be his bondservant, he was glad he’d spirited her away from the trouble back on Earth. With an assassin on the loose, who knew what might’ve happened to anyone connected to the prince? Now he just needed Zhiruto to return safely, as well. “Stay safe, my friend, and keep me informed.”
“I will.”
The screen went dark.
There was nothing more he could do, so Arazhi turned to Georgie with a smile. “Sounds like you’re going to stay a while. Perhaps I can interest you in a tour of the popotan fields after all?”
11
Georgie stood inside the ship’s airlock, staring down the landing ramp at the alien landscape. The sun outside seemed brighter, more white than yellow, and the plants she could see tended toward blue and purple rather than green. Her chest felt tight, and she realized she was holding her breath, even though Arazhi had already opened the door and taken a few steps down the ramp.
He’d reassured her she’d be safe, but she was about to set foot on an alien planet. What if she couldn’t breathe? What if gravity made it hard to walk? At least astronauts had space suits—she had nothing but a ball gown and bare feet, since she’d kicked off her shoes back on Earth.
Arazhi held out a hand and encouraged her to follow him with a small gesture.
Nerves tingling, she thought, here goes nothing, and took a small sip of air. When she didn’t keel over, she exhaled and took a larger breath. The humid air smelled earthy and slightly metallic. Placing one foot firmly on the ramp, she stepped out under the alien sun.
Rolling hills covered in blue foliage spread as far as she could see. Mishmashed structures poked above the tree line, everything from clusters of thatched domes to sparkling glass high rises. Directly across the stone platform where the ship had touched down, a massive building set with fantastically curved spires looked as if it was being overrun by vines. It reminded her of pictures she’d seen in National Geographic of ruins in Thailand or South America, except the plants were the wrong colors. At the bottom of the landing ramp, a double column of guards formed a pathway toward the building.
“Is that the palace?” she asked.
“Yes. Welcome to my home.” He wiggled his fingers. “Now come, kikajiru. The sun is hot. I want to get you inside.”
Gulping, she took one step, then another, and grabbed his hand to let him lead her down the ramp. The ground was hot against her bare soles, but not unbearably, and she glanced over her shoulder at the ship she’d just left, getting a good look at it for the first time. It resembled a pale purple rosebud, the outside made of the same veined leaves as the inner walls.
Arazhi paused near the first guard to say something she didn’t understand. The guard answered in the same language. He was blue like Arazhi, but his face looked more like the snout of a dog than a man, and fine blue hair covered what she could see of his skin. In fact, all the guards were as varied in shape and size as the nearby city. One had what looked like antennae sprouting from his forehead, and another had huge bird claws for hands.
Every one of them was staring at her.
She edged closer to Arazhi. “What kind of aliens are these?”
He flicked a glance at the nearest one, then back to her. “They are Kirenai.”
He’d said it as if it explained everything. She looked at the one with bird claws. “I don’t understand.”
“We’re shapeshifters, remember? These are their chosen forms.”
Her stomach dropped, making her stumble. “Shapeshifters?”
Arazhi caught her by the elbow. “Did the IDA not tell you?”
She tried to recall any mention of shapeshifting in the numerous pages of the contract she’d signed. “I don’t remember reading anything about shapeshifters…” Her attention slid involuntarily down his chest as the implications sank in. Arazhi is a shapeshifter. What did he really look like? “So… this isn’t your real body?”
Eyes glittering, he laughed and put an arm around her, pulling her along with him toward the palace. “It’s entirely my own body. One I hope pleases you.”
Well, that certainly explained why he looked so hot. If she could choose what to look like, she’d want a supermodel body, too. “What do you look like for real?”
“We don’t show our resting state to strangers.” He kept walking without glancing at her.
A wash of disappointment filled her as she recalled the intimate ways he’d touched her, not once, but many times. He’d even painted her in tattoos that still glowed upon her skin. “Oh. I thought we were more than strangers.”
He sighed and leaned closer, his arm still around her. “I prefer not to talk in front of the guards.”
His words eased her concern enough to k
eep her moving.
He dropped his arm from her shoulders, nodding at the guards as they passed. Entering a large gate in the stone wall, they moved through a courtyard shaded by a thick canopy of blue leaves. A tiny brook trickled between scaled gray tree trunks, and clusters of white and yellow flowers grew here and there. The path they were on looked like white pea gravel with a pearly sheen, and she bent to pick one up. She could swear to God it was an actual pearl. “Is this real?”
Arazhi had continued on without her, apparently anxious to check on his father. “Is what real?”
“Never mind.” She clasped the pearl in her fist and hurried after him. She would ask him about it later.
He pushed open a door that looked similar to the same leaf-like material of the ship. A diminutive person of indistinct gender met them, bowing low and jabbering something.
Arazhi nodded and nudged Georgie forward. “Deshel will show you to my room. I’ll be along soon.”
Then he strode away without a backward glance.
Georgie gaped after him. She’d thought she’d be meeting his father. Instead, she felt like she’d been kicked to the curb. Of course he doesn’t want me with him. His father was dying, not in a state to receive guests, let alone meet a stranger. Plus, the emperor of the galaxy probably didn’t agree to see just anyone. Even so, she felt a little salty that Arazhi would ask her to have his baby, yet disregard inviting her to meet his parents.
A gentle hand on her elbow drew her attention down to the little alien called Deshel. The being reminded her of a house-elf without ears. Waving a slender blue hand, Deshel gestured for Georgie to follow, a string of nonsense streaming from its tiny mouth.
Georgie took one last glance at Arazhi’s retreating form, then followed the alien down a stone hallway. It wasn’t as if she had anywhere else to be at the moment.
Deshel blabbered the entire time they walked, leading Georgie to a large room with floor to ceiling windows and strange items scattered in clusters like furniture. There were chairs and tables, but other items were baffling. There was a plush, banana-shaped structure the size of a compact car, and three chair-sized metal buckets perched on six delicate feet.
As she took it in, she realized Deshel had gone silent. She turned to find the alien’s large eyes looking at her as if waiting for something.
Does he want a tip? Georgie shook her head. “I don’t understand. I’m sorry.”
Deshel let out a small sigh and spoke a string of obviously frustrated words before tapping his-or-her forehead with one finger.
Is this alien saying I’m stupid? Georgie narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “I just got here and don’t speak alien, all right?”
Shrinking back, Deshel bobbed as if in apology, then once more gestured for Georgie to follow.
They passed through a bedroom into a third room that looked like it was tiled in the same pearl stone that made up the path in the garden. Light filtered between the blue fronds shading the windows, and beyond them she could see more of the rolling hills and strange buildings in the distance. In the center of the room rested a round, sunken basin brimming with water.
Still speaking a never-ending stream of syllables, Deshel made a flourish with one hand, making it very clear she was to bathe.
Georgie glanced longingly at the huge tub. The lavatory on the ship had been adequate, but a nice hot soak sounded divine. She nodded and stepped toward the basin. The tub looked like it was fed by a natural hot spring, the surface rippling slightly where the water entered and exited on opposite sides. But unlike any hot spring Georgie had ever visited, there was no lingering scent of sulfur. In fact, the smell here reminded her of gardenias and vanilla.
She turned to thank Deshel and discovered the small alien had already gone. Well, all right, then. At least he’d given her privacy.
Glancing around one last time to be certain she was truly alone, she stripped out of her dress and underthings, then stepped into the tub. The water engulfed her in warmth, scented steam curling around her face like a caress. As she relaxed, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was trapped in a dream. Everything she liked seemed to come her way the moment she wanted or needed it. Even Arazhi’s lovemaking had been the epitome of perfect.
She bit her lip, remembering Arazhi’s revelation about being a shapeshifter. How had she missed that in the IDA paperwork? And why hadn’t Arazhi mentioned it? It seemed like it should’ve come up in conversation at some point. Was he hideous behind that gorgeous façade?
She shook her head. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t some princess destined to kiss a frog and turn him into a prince to get her happily-ever-after. Arazhi was already a prince, and he hadn’t offered to marry her, even if she could somehow offer him a baby.
The thought made her throat tighten, and she ducked beneath the water, wetting her hair. She could find no shampoo or soap, but the water smelled great on its own, so she rose, looking for a towel to dry herself. Dripping water, she moved to one wall, thinking perhaps there were buttons on it like on the ship—a compartment where they kept towels or something. As she moved over a spot on the floor, a strong breeze hit her, seeming to come from all directions at once.
She stopped and laughed, turning in a slow circle to let the air dry her off. “Like a car wash for people,” she said aloud, finger-combing her hair and enjoying the subtle flowery scent surrounding her.
Though she wasn’t thrilled to put her dress back on, it was all she had, so she returned to the edge of the tub where she’d dropped it. The floor was bare, her dress nowhere in sight. Had it blown away? She searched the corners of the room but found neither dress nor undergarments. Had that little alien come back and stolen her things?
Frustrated, she peeked around the corner into the bedroom. Something that might be clothing lay neatly on the foot of the bed. “Oh, thank God.”
As she stepped into the room, a scaled pink man with large slitted eyes rose from a chair tucked in one corner. His chest was bare, and he wore black straps that resembled suspenders holding up a black ankle-length skirt.
Georgie let out a squeak and stumbled back, arms crisscrossed over her front to hide her private parts. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?”
He held up two long-fingered hands. “Don’t be afraid.” His voice was raspy. “My name’s Qantina. I’ve been instructed to provide you with a universal translator.”
Georgie looked from the alien to the clothing on the bed. “Do you mind turning around so I can get dressed first?”
Qantina tilted his head, large eyes blinking, then spun to face the other direction. A line of bony ridges ran down his spine, and a stubby scaled tail protruded from his backside through a hole in the skirt.
Georgie edged toward the bed and snatched up the cloth. It was a sheet of soft, thin fabric, the same shade of blue as her dress. Not clothes, but it would do. She wrapped it around herself like a towel. It was a little short on the lower end, but it covered all the important parts. “All right.”
The pink alien turned around, no expression on his lipless mouth. “Excellent. I’m not yet familiar with your species. If you would allow me, I would like to perform a scan so I may ascertain where the translator should be installed.”
“How come I can understand you, but not that other alien who escorted me here?”
“The device works with the recipient’s speech centers to facilitate both speaking and understanding, utilizing thousands of language databases. Once one is installed, it will not matter if those around you have an implant. Deshel is new here, however, and bondservants do not always have the latest technology when they arrive. I will see to it at once.”
Bondservants. Wasn’t that what Arazhi had called her when he thought he’d purchased her? “I’m not a bondservant,” she said. “Arazhi is taking me back to Earth as soon as he’s visited his father.”
“Yes, he told Deshel this.”
That was reassuring. “Okay.”
Picking up a
device that looked a bit like a TSA wand, Qantina stepped forward. “Remain still, please.”
Starting at the top of her head, he pressed the wand against her and began making widening circles around her skull. After a few moments, he pulled out something that looked like a gun and pressed it behind her ear. A stinging sensation made her flinch. “There. All finished.”
“That’s it?” She touched the spot behind her ear gingerly. “I’ll be able to understand everyone now?”
“Once the program has uploaded, yes.”
If aliens could give her the ability to understand any language, was it possible they could restore her fertility as Arazhi had said? Swallowing her fear, she asked, “Are you a healer? A—” she stumbled over remembering the word Arazhi had used. “A Qalqan?”
“That is correct.” Qantina placed the device back in his bag.
“What sorts of things can you heal?”
“We are skilled at determining the causes of many ailments. Why do you ask?”
Georgie smoothed the silky fabric over her hips. So Arazhi hadn’t told the Qalqan of her problem conceiving. Part of her was grateful he’d respected her wish not to be disappointed again. Another part regretted being so insistent. These were aliens, after all, with superior technology. What if they really could fix her?
I could bear Arazhi’s child. But it wouldn’t be hers. He’d said he didn’t intend to separate mother from child, but he’d made it very clear the child would be his. Which meant that if she had his baby, she’d basically be agreeing to become his bondservant.
She forced herself to smile and shook her head. “Never mind. Thank you for the translator.”
12
Arazhi hurried through the palace corridors to the throne room. The guard he’d spoken to on the tarmac hadn’t had any news of his father; obviously the royal council was keeping his condition secret. It could be good news as easily as bad, thought Arazhi as he burst into the royal living quarters. He wouldn’t put it past his father to hide a miraculous recovery just to keep their rivals off balance.