by Ruby Dixon
It’s already been a day.
I glance up at the skies. It’s dawn, or that dreamy, pale color just before the two tiny suns rise. The sky itself is an angry, cloudy gray and the temperature has dropped overnight. It’s getting colder the farther we get from the island. I glance behind us to see how far we’ve come, but I can’t see it. Sometime while I was sleeping, the island went out of view entirely. I turn to look at the distant mountains that we’re heading toward. I can’t tell if they’re any closer, and that’s worrying. Is the current taking us away? Or is it going sideways when we should be going straight forward? I don’t know if we can paddle such a long distance against the current if that’s the case. I just hope something looks encouraging soon.
I worry I’ve led the others into a trap. Surely…surely it can’t be that hard to lead people to the other side of the water, when we can see the purple peaks in the distance? I have to believe this will turn out well. Have to.
Z’hren throws the bit of root down and makes a fussy cry. I know how he feels. I want to get up and stretch my legs, but we’re all piled onto this raft on top of one another and it makes everything tricky. You lose your modesty fast, but you also lose your temper fast. I make a clucking sound at him and pull him closer, even as his little fists grab at my hair. I wince—four fists mean lots of hair pulling. “Now, Z’hren—”
An earth-shattering boom fills the skies.
I fling myself on top of the baby in terror, and a moment later, I feel K’thar’s big form covering mine. The raft wobbles as everyone scrambles awake. I realize a moment later that I’m screaming. My mouth is open, but I can’t hear anything. My ears ring and I realize that I can’t hear K’thar, or the baby crying underneath me. I can’t hear the waves. There’s no sound at all but silence and the endless droning sound in my ears.
The volcano—it’s exploded.
K’thar touches me, and as I look over at him, I see he’s camouflaged to match the raft. I watch his mouth moving, but I can’t hear him, either. I’ve heard of people going deaf from a gun that discharges too close to the ear, and I hope to god this doesn’t last forever. “I’m okay,” I tell him, or at least, I hope I do. I can’t hear myself talk.
I sit upright, trying to comfort Z’hren. The baby’s fussing, his face screwed up with anger, but there’s no sound. I watch K’thar as he touches each member of his small tribe, making sure they’re all right. Kki flings himself onto K’thar’s shoulder and my mate—my sweet, wonderful mate—grabs the terrified bird and clutches it tight against his chest, stroking the wings to calm it. I feel a jealous stab at him holding the bird, because I want to be held like that, too. But I’ve got the baby in my arms and he’s busy checking on the others.
I glance down the raft line and the other tribes seem to be awake, everyone rubbing their ears and looking confused. Someone points behind us and I see that there’s nothing but a black curtain of ash behind us where the island used to be. Thank god we got away.
A hand lands on the back of my neck, caressing it, and I glance over at K’thar, grateful for that small touch. Even though I can’t hear my cootie, I can feel it thrumming in my chest. I’m so glad he’s here.
I’m so glad he’s mine.
I smile over at him, feeling weak and shaky. We’re safe for now. We’ve got this, as long as we’re together. I look over where Marisol is, and she’s got T’chai’s hand in hers, the big warrior still lying flat in the center of the raft. It’s while I’m looking over at them that I see the surge of water heading our way.
Oh…oh fuck.
Someone else notices on the third raft and gestures wildly. I barely have time to grab on to the vine ropes and anchor myself and the baby in my arms before I feel K’thar’s big body shield me again. I squeeze my eyes shut, holding my breath and bracing for the worst.
The raft surges and I can feel all of us lift up, like an elevator moving between floors. A moment later, we ease back down again, and when I lift my head, I can see the wave racing past. Oh.
I wish there was a way to warn the people on shore that a tidal wave was heading in their direction. I can only hope it won’t be so bad by the time it gets there. For now, though, we have to worry about ourselves. A quick head-check shows that only one person was washed overboard—A’tam—but he was able to swim quickly back to the raft and climb onboard. He shivers with cold and someone offers him a fur blanket. Everyone looks dazed and frightened.
I know just how they feel.
The tidal wave, even just the tiny crest of it that we got, seems to have carried us a bit closer to shore. As the day wears on, I don’t have to worry that we’re paddling in the right direction. The purple peaks of the mountains, once so distant, are now in sight. They’re still a far ways off, but now we know that we’re heading somewhere and that it’s not in my head, which is a relief.
My ears continue ringing for a few hours and I can start to hear the voices of the others again toward sunset. We’re careful with our water and our food, rationing it just in case we run into trouble. K’thar paddles endlessly, as if he never grows tired, and I’m impressed with his stamina. I curl up next to him while the baby sleeps, and he keeps one hand on us, holding both of us protectively close. I feel tired and dirty and gritty from sea salt, and it’s no longer temperate in the slightest. The air is bitterly cold and I watch my breath puff up in clouds. The others have taken to wearing the layers of furs that they laughed at me for insisting on, and I can see the shocked surprise in J’shel’s face as he blows on his hands to warm them. I can’t blame him for not believing me when I said how cold it was. The island is so warm and sultry.
Was, I remind myself. Was so warm and sultry. It’s gone now, and nothing remains of it except the ringing in my ears, the choking black curtain at the far end of the sky that acts as a tombstone of sorts, and the ash that’s started to fall from overhead. At first I thought it was snow, but a taste of it on my lips made me spit. Definitely ash.
All of this worries me, and I try to keep Z’hren’s mouth covered as he sleeps, even though he fights me on it. We can’t help breathing some of the ash, but it’s dangerous to suck in large mouthfuls of it. Of course, everything’s dangerous right now. I look longingly at the shore, still no closer than it was a few hours ago despite all the paddling.
To my side, K’thar shifts, and then I see his knives come out. He rests them on his legs, scanning the waters.
A prickle goes up my spine and I sit upright. “What is it?” I touch his arm in case his hearing is still wiped. “K’thar?”
He points to the center of the raft, indicating I should move there. I edge toward it and he hands me Kki. I’ve got my arms full of bird and baby, and I’m about to protest when he goes utterly still next to me.
“What?” I ask again, worried. “Is it the mountain? Something else?” When he gazes back down at the water, ever watchful, the hackles on my skin go up. “Is it something in the water?” I look back to the other rafts, the aliens sprawled out atop them. R’jaal has his spear in hand, and O’jek watches the water as well. I peer over the side as much as I dare, but I don’t see anything.
A long, tense moment ticks past. I watch K’thar for clues, and relax when his shoulders ease from their tight position. Whatever it was, it’s gone—
A silver coil reaches up and snags K’thar’s arm, fast as lightning, and drags him over the side of the raft.
He’s gone before I can even scream. My heart stops beating. I can’t hear anything but the sound of lapping water hitting the edges of the raft. “K’thar!” R’jaal calls, moving protectively to the front of his raft. Mari cries out as the entire thing bobs back and forth, and I can feel their raft jerking on the cord that holds ours to them.
None of that matters. My K’thar—my mate—is gone. There’s not even a hint of him above the water, not a ripple. I take a breath, and it feels like my heart is being torn out of my chest. No. No! This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. I set Z’hren down in t
he center of the raft and the bird with him, scrambling to the side. I’m going in after him. Maybe—
“No, L’ren,” J’shel says, grabbing my ankle. I want to scream in his face, but then he flings himself overboard, knife in his teeth, and disappears under the water as well. He wasn’t pulled in—he went in after my guy.
Z’hren starts wailing, and I pick him up, cradling him close. Oh god. Oh god. What can I do? The urge to go after him battles inside me, but N’dek and Z’hren can’t be left on this raft alone. But if he dies…
I don’t want to live if he dies. A sob breaks from my throat and Z’hren cries even harder. Kki screams his own protest in my ear, and it seems like the entire world is wailing with me. The water is so still, so very still that I can’t stand it. Please, I tell the world around me. Please don’t take him.
“K’thar!” R’jaal bellows, squatting at the edge of his raft, spear in hand. “J’shel! K’thar!”
“Look,” N’dek says, and I realize dimly that he’s at my side, two knives in his hands. He babbles something else I don’t understand and then points at the water.
I see nothing, and then a head bursts through the surface. K’thar flings his hair back off his face, and I realize he’s camouflaged to the same murky green as the ocean. J’shel surfaces a moment later, scratches clawed over his bloody face, and they both start swimming toward the raft.
I start laughing. Or crying. Probably crying. They feel like the same right now.
K’thar climbs onto the raft, wobbling the entire thing. I don’t care. I give him my arm and help him climb on board, not caring that he’s icy wet and his entire body shudders. All I can see is that as his camo slowly turns back to his normal color, he’s covered in scratches and circular bruises that look like they came from tentacle suckers. J’shel is similarly beat up, with a colorful lash around his throat that speaks of the fight that happened under the water, too deep for even a splash to make it to the surface. Did so many minutes pass, then? Or was the fight quick and brutal?
It doesn’t matter. All that matters is my K’thar is back. I grab him and hold him close, still sobbing with relief. I’m all emotional it seems. Gone is the Lo-will-take-charge mentality. I almost lost him, in the blink of an eye. All it took was a moment and then there wouldn’t be a K’thar in this world any longer. My calm is gone and I just cry and cry and cry while he rocks me against his wet chest and tries to soothe my tears.
“Llo,” he murmurs after a time, stroking my cheek. “Is good. All good.”
“I know,” I blubber, and then I just start crying even more when N’dek takes the crying baby from my arms and shoves a blanket into K’thar’s hands. I realize he’s freezing, ice in his wet hair and I haven’t been taking care of him. I should have handled that.
K’thar hands the blanket over to J’shel with a quiet word. Oh, J’shel. He saved my mate. I move to the other man’s side and make him bend down so I can kiss his cheek, weeping. “You are the best guy ever, I swear.”
“Llo K’thar,” my mate growls, pulling me back to his side. J’shel just gives me a bewildered look.
I don’t even mind that my guy is possessive. When he pulls a blanket around his shoulders and then pulls me underneath it, I plaster myself against him gladly. And I cry a little more, because I’m going to have this tiny mental breakdown, damn it, and then I’ll be calm.
Tomorrow, I’ll be back to myself. Today, I’m going to be a little bit of a mess and that’s okay.
21
LAUREN
The warriors are on high alert for the rest of the afternoon. Now that we know that the things in the water are aware of us, and that they’re hungry, I see spears and knives out instead of paddles. K’thar and the others insist that Z’hren and I move to the center of the raft at all times, and I know they’re being protective. I want to help out, but it’s not worth the argument, so I move to the middle…and K’thar’s tail stays wrapped around my ankle at all times, as if he’s unwilling to let me go. I don’t mind that in the slightest.
I never want him out of my sight again. I don’t care if that’s clingy. I’ll happily cling to that alien’s leg for the rest of my life as long as it means we’re together, always. I’m crazy with love for him, and I tell him over and over again every time he touches me. I don’t know that he understands the word ‘love’ but it doesn’t matter. My touches tell him everything.
It’s near sunset on day two when I see a tiny plume of smoke drifting against the pinkish golden sky. The mountains have loomed steadily closer, and that smoke on the horizon excites me. It’s not enough smoke to be another volcano. It’s tiny and thin, but I think it’s just the right size for an encampment’s fire.
They’re still there at the beach. Thank god.
I point it out, and we start to paddle in that direction. It’s against the current, but with four strong arms to each man on the raft, we’re able to push ahead until we plow close enough to shore that the waves start to carry us forward. I can see the fire on the cliffs against the twilight, and I feel a bit of excitement—and worry—in the pit of my stomach.
Do the others—Harlow and her mate, Liz and hers, Vektal and Rokan and all the other blue aliens—think Marisol and I are dead? No one ever came after us, but they sank the only ship. Granted, it was a spaceship, but rafting over from the island—and K’thar’s near death—tells me that the water’s too dangerous for a lot of crossings back and forth. Even now I look at the dark waters around us with terror and dread. I can’t wait to be off of this raft and back on shore.
I wonder—far too late, of course—if more mouths to feed will be welcome. I never stopped to think about if there was enough food for all. Surely there will be. And I wonder what’s happened in the month that we’ve been gone. Has anyone else resonated? Have they built shelters?
Has Willa been found? Or is she…dead? I don’t like to think about that.
I brush ash off of my arms as I lean forward on the raft. It’s not like that will help things move along, but I feel the need to lean just the same. I’m eager to get back to the others, to bring K’thar and his people to shore. To get their bellies full of hot food and show them that yes, there are other people left, and they’re good guys and we can all live happily together on the beach.
I hope. God, I hope. I’ve seen how the three different groups get along and they bicker and fight, but the three rafts strung together tell me that they’re willing to work together for a common cause. I hope that my blue guys will feel the same about Harlow and Liz’s blue guys. I’m so nervous.
Like it or not, though, there’s no going back. There’s no island to go back to. The ash falling on my arms and in my hair is proof of that. If they don’t want us with them…we’ll just go elsewhere. We can figure out how to catch food on our own, and I remember a little how to build a fire. We’ll manage. One step at a time, that’s all it takes.
But then our rafts are sliding toward shore, carried in by the rolling tide. No one at the distant campfire has noticed us yet, as we’re pretty far down the rocky beach. It’s bitterly cold, though, and Z’hren makes fussy noises of distress until I wrap him tighter against my chest, snuggled under the layers of furs I wear.
Ignoring the cold, R’jaal and K’thar get out and wade to shore, then guide the raft chain in, tugging us forward. One by one, we step onto land, and my legs wobble with relief as I step onto the crunching sand. Thank you, sand. Thank you, mountains. Thank you, distant fire. Thank you for being here, because I’m mighty tired of ocean.
It takes a few minutes for everyone to pile onto the beach. Some of the others think to grab supplies, and M’tok and S’bren help carry T’chai forward, Marisol at his side. Everyone huddles in the cold, waiting.
Then A’tam clears his throat. “Is cold,” he points out, his toothy grin bright in the darkness. “Fire?”
They all watch me, waiting. Oh, of course. I feel silly for making them wait. I’ve been the one demanding and fussing and pushing
this entire time. I need to see things through until the end and not just hand over the reins on the beach. I gesture at the fire. “I’m going to go say hello and remind them that Mari and I are alive. Are you coming, Mari?”
She hesitates, then clasps her mate’s hand. “I want to stay with T’chai.” Her voice is wobbly, as if she’s fighting back tears. “Just in case.”
Just in case…. Is he that bad she worries he’ll die at any moment? My heart aches for her and I nod. “All right, I’ll go alone.” I gesture to the others and hand Z’hren over to K’thar. “Wait here.”
My big alien scowls at me and hands the baby to N’dek. Kki perches on K’thar’s shoulder and he tries to shoo him off, but the thing only flaps its wings, irritated, and stays. “K’thar go,” my mate tells me. “K’thar Llo.”
I can guess what that means—we’re a team, and we do this together. Even though I’m a little worried at how they’ll take the sight of a new guy—especially one that changes colors and has four arms—I’m glad that he’s going to be at my side. It seems right. I extend my hand to him. “Lo K’thar,” I agree. He’s mine and I’m his.
K’thar speaks quietly to the others and I see U’dron and I’rec drop their packs on shore, getting comfortable for the wait. I hope it won’t be long, but I don’t know how the others are going to react. I shouldn’t be worried—they accepted all of us humans with open arms. But a lot has happened in the last month on my end, and I can’t even presume to think of what’s happened on this beach while we’ve been gone.
But then my mate gives Kki to J’shel and turns to me. He takes my hand and pulls me under his furs, keeping me warm, and then we’re walking down the beach toward the fire, and toward our new home. It’s a short walk, maybe five or ten minutes, and the only thing I can hear for the longest time is the hum of his khui in his chest and the crash of the waves against the shore. As we move forward, though, I can hear…singing coming from the campfire ahead.