by Ruby Dixon
Really, really bad singing.
“I swear, you guys really are the worst,” Liz says, her voice rising above the others. “You couldn’t hold a tune in a bucket, Zolaya.”
A ripple of laughter meets her insult, and the one called Zolaya starts singing louder—and she’s right. He’s terrible. There’s more laughter, and then a gasp. Several people jump to their feet, staring into the shadows.
Staring at us.
I swallow hard and then step forward, pushing K’thar behind me. “Hi honey, we’re home.”
22
K’THAR
The urge to camouflage in front of all of these strangers is overwhelming. I grew up surrounded by more people than this, but they were not unknown to me. They did not stare at me with wide, startled eyes or look at me as if assessing whether or not I was a danger. But if I camouflage here, it is not a simple tearing away of a leaf loincloth and blending into the trees. There are no trees here, and if I fling aside the heavy leathers on my body, I am in great danger of freezing my tail off.
But my mate gives a happy cry as another female, heavy with kit, moves forward to hug her. And then another, and then they are all making excited noises and crying, and I think this must be good. One of the males comes forward, eyeing me, and says something to my mate.
She moves to my side, happiness in her eyes even as she weeps, and puts a hand to my chest. “Sis K’thar. Eezmimayt.”
The big male’s eyes narrow. He asks something in the strange hoo-man tongue and L’ren shakes her head, looking unhappy at the question. She mentions M’rsl and gestures down at the beach and indicates that there are more of us waiting.
The male nods and turns to one of the others standing at his side, a big ugly creature with two arms and twisted horns. “Go with them when they bring the others.”
I pause, startled. His accent was strange, and the way he spoke our words odd, but…I understood him. I step forward. “You speak the tongue of the sakh?”
The male looks over at me in surprise. “I am Vektal,” he says, moving to clasp my arm as he studies my face. “And I was not sure if you were one of us until just now.”
I clasp his arm in greeting as well, and realize that I am camouflaging. Ah. I let my skin return to its normal shade and realize that even in the dark, I can tell that he is a much deeper blue than I am. There are other differences as well. His brow and his skin has thick, ridged plates. He does not have four arms, but we are of a similar height, though I am much broader, much bigger with muscle. His horns are as large as R’jaal’s and I wonder if this is what the ancestors looked like before they met with the others and became four clans instead of one.
There is much to learn here, I realize.
“My clan waits on the beach,” I tell him. “Our home is destroyed.”
He gives me a curious look. “Where was your home? We knew Lo-ren and Mar-ee-sol were missing, but our trackers could not find them. We were waiting for them to return to the beach, but we never thought…that they would bring others.”
The one called Vektal speaks their names strangely, even more strangely than how my mate says her words. I notice she watches us speak, her brow furrowed. She cannot understand our words and I feel another bubble of frustration even as there is relief that I can speak with the others here. Still we cannot share our thoughts as I wish. Soon, I resolve. Once all are safe, we will learn each other’s language. For now, there are more urgent matters. “We lived in the green jungle, across the water.”
Another nearby looks amused. His horns are curving and proud, but I notice there is a small broken kink in the tail that whisks back and forth as he crosses his arms over his chest. “An island? Jo-see still speaks of it. She swears there was one across the waters.”
I nod. “It has been destroyed with the second death of the Great Smoking Mountain. Even now, it rains its tears down on us.” I wipe a smear of ash off my arms.
Vektal grunts agreement. “You are welcome here as long as you pose no danger to us or our females.”
“Never.” I look at my L’ren. “I would never harm a female.”
She smiles at me. “Eezagudgyy,” she tells Vektal.
He asks her something.
“Oh!” L’ren says. “Firesaksident. Wsnchoo. WsMrsl, justmstayk. Datsall.”
Vektal looks relieved. “Thotwsmee,” he says in her odd language. “Dat eyemist smthn.”
“Newp. Sallgood.” She beams at him and looks over at me. “Turntoutgrate.”
My L’ren must speak pleasantly of me, judging from the way the others are staring. It makes me feel possessive and I reach out for her. She presses her cheek into my hand, nuzzling it.
Vektal looks surprised when I reach for my mate, and I realize why. My leathers have fallen back and revealed that I have four arms, not two puny ones like him. I can hear a startled murmur around the fire.
“I see there is much for our tribes to discuss,” Vektal says to me. “More than just how you kept the humans hidden for so long.” His gaze falls to my arms. “Many, many things to discuss.”
It seems so.
LAUREN
It feels like the beach is ridiculously crowded. As people surge forward, making room for the newcomers near the fire, there’s a ton of chatter around me and it feels overwhelming. I’m hugged and patted on the back, given fresh furs and food and a place by the fire. Z’hren’s in my arms and he’s cooed at and offered treats, and several women put their arms out to hold him. After days on the raft in relative quiet, it feels overwhelming. I just want to be in bed with my K’thar, but I know it’ll be a while before everyone calms down enough for sleeping arrangements.
Over the din of the crowd, I can hear Marisol’s sobbing. “He’s sick,” I hear her say, and I know she’s talking about T’chai. The others of his tribe are clustered around him, reluctant to leave his side even though I catch M’tok giving curious glances at the women near the fire.
“It will be well,” a soothing voice says, and then I see Farli put an arm around Mari’s shoulders. “Let us bring him to Vuh-ron-ca. She will be able to help.”
“She will?” Mari sniffs, surprised. “How?”
I have to echo that sentiment—my memories of Veronica were of a plain, brown-haired woman with clumsy feet and not much else to call attention to her. Oh, and the golden-skinned guy she resonated to.
“Vuh-ron-ca is a healer,” Farli says with authority. “We will bring your mate to her and she will make him better.”
A healer? I’m surprised. Veronica seemed so…bland. “Wow,” I murmur, watching as the group of R’jaal’s men carry T’chai to one of the distant tents.
“I know. It’s pretty impressive,” Hannah says, moving to stand next to me. “I’ve seen what she can do.” A funny look crosses her face and she turns away almost as quickly as she arrived. “I, uh, need to check on something.”
As she races away, I see J’shel get to his feet on the other side of the fire. He has a hand over his heart, a shocked look on his face. Oh boy. I recognize that expression. A moment later, a smile creases his mouth and then he races after her. There’s an intent gleam in his eyes and he heads after Hannah.
“Uh oh,” Nadine says, moving to the spot Hannah vacated. Samantha is on the other side of her, and they both share a knowing grin. “Looks like someone got hit with the resonance stick.”
“You think?” I glance at my mate, and he’s watching J’shel retreat, a pleased look on his face.
“Oh yeah,” Samantha agrees. “Look at Cashol racing after him. Every time someone resonates, they get a chaperone to make sure no one’s pressuring us into having sex before we’re ready. Poor Ashtar was going to murder Zolaya for shadowing them all the time. And the twins are fascinated with Angie, so someone’s always at her side.”
“Wow. I feel like I’ve missed a lot.” My head is spinning.
“Yeah, but I feel the same way about you,” Nadine says. She makes grabby hands at Z’hren. “Gimme the baby.”
I hand him over, tired. He weighs more by the minute, it seems.
“Look at how cute he is!” Nadine squeals, laughing when he camouflages to match her darker skin. “And four chubby little baby fists. Oh my goodness. I could eat you with a spoon.”
“Better carve one first,” Samantha says, and gives the baby an affectionate chuck under his chin.
I hear Kki make an indignant sound as J’shel disappears, and Sam gasps. “What the fuck was that?”
“Pet bird,” I say, putting my arm out as I see Kki doing his wobbling flight overhead. He’s scared but clearly wants to land. I know from my time with the others that Kki has a bad wing and can’t fly far, which is why he’s such a clingy pet. He immediately lands on my arm, crawls up my sleeve to my shoulder, and then buries his face in my hair. Poor thing. I pet his ugly little face. I know just how he feels. I want K’thar, too, but he’s still talking in hushed voices with Vektal, the chief, and they are both watching the others. Probably waiting to see if anyone else resonates.
“Are you sure that’s a bird?” Sam asks, wrinkling her nose.
“Or a bat. Whatever you want to call him.” I rub Kki’s nose. “He’s hungry, though. We all are.”
“Come sit,” Harlow tells me, a note of steel in her sweet voice.
Hands push me forward and then I’m at the center of the group clustered near the fire, and even farther from my mate. I give him a helpless look as he talks to the chief. He starts to push to my side, through the crowd, and people gasp as he moves to stand behind me, his hands on my shoulders, staking his claim.
I might be a little proud of that small movement. Just a little. I like being claimed by him. I put my hand over one of his, and Kki pecks at my fingers. Harlow appears at my side with a bowl of cooked meat and nuts, and I give Kki a chunk before offering some to my mate. The little creature’s an omnivore and eats anything put in front of him.
My K’thar pushes the bowl back into my hands. “Eat,” he says gruffly.
“You were the one paddling,” I protest, trying to give it back to him. “I can wait.”
He growls low in his throat and I roll my eyes.
“Uh, you guys realize there’s enough food for everyone, right?” Liz appears with a second bowl, and then everyone is sitting down and getting comfortable by the fire with food in their hands. I don’t eat until K’thar is handed a bowl, and then I nibble on my food, making sure that my mate is eating enough. I know it’s his habit to give food to myself and the baby instead of eating on his own, but as I watch him wolf his food, I’m relieved. He needs his strength as much as I do.
I absorb gossip as people talk around us, and it seems that everyone can speak the aliens’ language but me. I try not to feel left out at this realization, but when Ereven says something and my mate laughs, I want to know what it was. I pick at my food, unsure how to feel.
“So did you hear about Willa?” Nadine asks, feeding a bit of broth to Z’hren.
“No,” I breathe. “Is she okay? Did they find her?”
“Oh yeah,” Nadine says, a wry expression on her face. “She and Gren resonated. That pairing’s a bit of a mess, because he won’t come back to camp. It’s all fucked up.”
It sounds like it. “Poor Willa.” To think that my sweet friend is tied to that monster.
“Mmm, I wouldn’t feel too bad for her,” Nadine says, and Sam snickers at her side. “They make a lot of noise up the hill, if you know what I’m saying.”
I can feel myself blushing. I can only imagine. “I see.”
“Since we’re getting to the real meat of things here, I want to know about the four hands—” Sam begins before Nadine bursts into giggles.
“Yes, I wish to know about the four hands as well,” Vektal says, stepping toward the fire.
The two at my side giggle even more crazily, and I can hear Liz snickering nearby. My face feels like it’s going to catch on fire, I’m blushing so damn hard. “Uh…” is all I say.
“My ancestors did not have four arms,” Vektal continues, with a glance at my mate. “I wish to know how it happened.”
Oh. Now I feel like blushing even more because I was trying to think of a tactful way to tell Vektal that it was none of his damn business how K’thar puts his hands on me. Of course he’s asking something innocent. It’s just my mind that goes to filthy places. Filthy, filthy mind. “I don’t know—we can’t really talk to each other. I’ve learned some of his words but not enough.” I can’t quite keep the jealousy out of my voice, either. How unfair is it that Vektal can chit-chat with my man five minutes after meeting him and I’ve been with K’thar a month and I still can’t ask him basic stuff about himself?
Vektal frowns. “You did not receive the language from Mardok before you left, did you?”
“Nope.” There were plans to get it somehow, but now the ship is at the bottom of the ocean. Stuff just happened too quickly and there was no time.
“Come,” Vektal says. “He can fix that for you.” He looks at my mate and says something, and then K’thar takes the squawking Kki off my shoulder, handing him over to N’dek, who is seated nearby and shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he can.
He can fix that? Right now? “Really?” I ask, jumping to my feet. When K’thar touches my arm, I automatically grab his hand in mine and drag him behind me.
“Yes,” Vektal says, and gestures at the cluster of tents in the distance, where the encampment is set up.
I follow eagerly, not caring that it’s cold beyond the warmth of the fire. Who cares about a bit of cold when I will soon have the ability to talk to K’thar? Really, really talk to him? I’m so excited I’m practically dancing as we stride up the hill from the beach.
Vektal chats with K’thar as we head up the hill, and then gestures at one of the tents. In the distance, I can see a hint of candlelight and several people standing in the doorway of another tent while Veronica presses her hands on T’chai’s abdomen, an intent look on her face. We head past their tent and into one of the nearer ones, where Farli’s slinky-looking furry pony-thing paws at the snow and nibbles on something underneath it. Vektal scratches at the door flap, then waits.
Someone clears their throat and then speaks, and Vektal pulls the flap back.
It’s dark inside, but a moment later, a flame is sparked and I watch as Farli lights a candle. Her hair is disheveled and her mouth puffy, and Mardok adjusts the front of his leggings and turns his back to us as he moves toward one of the baskets in the back of the tent. “Language chips, right?” he says in English. “I can do that.”
Farli just looks busily at the fire, poking it with a stick.
“Did we interrupt?” I ask, feeling a little embarrassed. I squeeze K’thar’s hand. I guess it won’t be the end of the world if we have to wait until morning to talk.
“If we waited for these two to pull themselves apart, we would be waiting a very long time,” Vektal says, voice amused.
Farli just chuckles and gestures at the furs near the firepit. “Come have a seat.”
“This will not take long,” Mardok adds, pulling out something wrapped in leather. “Can you pull your hair back from your ear for me?”
I do, a little worried. Vektal speaks in a low voice to K’thar, who grips my shoulder tightly as if he doesn’t entirely trust what’s going on. He growls low in his throat when Mardok steps forward, and the two exchange a few quick words. I squeeze K’thar’s hand to let him know I’m fine, that I’m not worried about being hurt. Truth be told, I don’t care how painful this is—if it means I can talk to my mate, I’m all for a headache or whatever this will bring.
I get a little nervous when Mardok pulls out a long, frightening-looking needle, taps in something, and then moves it toward my ear. I squeeze my eyes shut as he instructs Farli to bring a candle and hold it close.
“Be very still,” Mardok tells me. It’s the only warning I get before there’s a hot pinch behind my ear, and then a burning, piercing pain shootin
g into my skull. I can’t stop the swift intake of breath and the tight clench I have on K’thar’s hand.
“Are you hurting her?” I hear my mate ask, clear as day. The language isn’t mine, but I understand it, just as easily as I understand English.
It’s…amazing. And I start to cry all over again, because I’m just so emotional.
K’thar kneels beside me, shoving Mardok away. He cups my face in his hands and gazes at me with worried eyes. “Llo?” he whispers, caressing my cheek with his thumb.
“Hi there,” I whisper back to him, and then because I’ve wanted to say it for so long, “I love you.”
My alien breaks into a massive grin.
23
K’THAR
I do not know how the one called Mardok made my mate speak my language. Perhaps it is a magic that they can teach us. I do not care. All I know is that my L’ren is beaming up at me with bright, happy eyes even as she weeps.
“This is so wonderful,” she says between sniffles. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for so long, K’thar. You have no idea.”
“Yes, I do,” I tell her gently. “I have wanted the same thing.”
“Oh. Right.” She gives a teary giggle and then flings herself into my embrace, wrapping her small arms around my neck.
“I see it was a success,” Mardok says in a pleased voice, putting his magic speaking tool away. “We will get M’rsl in the morning. I don’t think she will leave her mate’s side right now.”
“You have my thanks,” I tell them. “You all do.” I am overwhelmed with this evening. So much has happened in the short while since we arrived that my head feels as if it spins atop my neck. I did not imagine that the others here would be sakh, or that they would be able to heal T’chai. Or that they would make my mate speak my words. Or that J’shel would resonate as soon as we arrived, and N’dek and Z’hren are safe with good food in their bellies and…