by Ruby Dixon
Vektal glances down at the male creature, a twitch in his cheek the only outward sign he has seen it. “What are your thoughts, Taushen? I would hear from you, away from Leezh. She has had many, many things to say this trip and has made clear to me that I should hear her opinion on all of them.”
I laugh at that. Leezh has never been shy about voicing her thoughts. I picture the chief hiking, Leezh chattering in his ear about how she thinks things should go with the newcomers, and imagine that Vektal’s patience must be strained in this moment. “She has very…firm ideas.”
Vektal grunts. “And some of them are good. I do listen…but sometimes I appreciate quiet.” He crosses his arms over his chest and gazes down at the sleeping male, a troubled flash crossing his face. “I fear quiet is something we will be losing very soon.”
His thoughts echo mine. I worry that it will be a bad thing to awaken these strangers, yet how can we not? I think of Brooke and Li-lah and all of the others that have arrived. They have brought so much joy and life to our small tribe. How can we let them remain asleep? Yet at the same time… “These newcomers worry me.”
Vektal nods. “And me as well, but we do not have many choices. They are people, and as people, we must take care of them.”
He is not wrong…and yet, I wonder who will take care of my people if these are bad ones? The last people we met were violent and had bad intentions. Our people were not safe with them. I glance over at Brooke, and she has her head tilted, her smile a charming one as she teases Hassen and Pashov about missing their mates. Who will protect Brooke?
I tried to do so once, and I failed. Instead, I hurt her. I took what she did not freely offer.
I will not fail her again, I vow. No matter what is decided with these strangers, she is mine to protect, even if she does not want my protection. I can do no less.
11
TAUSHEN
Vektal says no more about the sleepers as one by one, each pod’s lid is pried off and the occupant revealed. He remains silent about them even as the group disperses, exploring the ship and making camp. There’s not enough room for everyone to stay inside the strange cave-ship—and I suspect that many are uneasy at doing so. I do not blame them. I still do not sleep well most nights, imagining that one of the strange, orange-skinned aliens will appear and steal Brooke and the rest of my tribe away. I suspect that Rukh has the same thoughts I do, because we end up keeping watch silently together most nights, staring out into the snows.
The tribe sets up tents at the base of the ramp, and I watch, gritting my jaw when empty ones are set up and supplies placed inside. I do not have to ask who the empty tents are for. I can guess…and I do not like it.
I keep thinking of Brooke. Her ornate, pretty braids this day. Her laughing, playful expression as she speaks with Pashov or Vektal. I wonder if she will resonate to the gold, scaly male, or the beastly one. Or the two that are not quite human, but look human enough to my untrained eye. Or if she will resonate to no one, condemned to the same lonely fate I am.
None of these thoughts eases me. Surely Brooke is a female worthy of having a mate…and yet I do not wish for her to resonate to any of these males. Just the thought makes me grit my teeth and sets my tail to lashing. But would I not wish for her to be happy?
I think on this, and I have no answer.
A bonfire is built at the end of the ramp, amid the nest of tents, and tea is heated. A fresh kill is divided, raw, amongst the tribe, and Har-loh nibbles on trail rations while both Leezh and Brooke choose to eat their food as we do. I am oddly pleased to see how brave Brooke is in regard to her meal. I know of human females that still refuse to eat their meat raw, and they have been with us for many seasons. Brooke has only been here for one turn of the moon, and already she is working to fit in. She will be a good mate…to someone.
The thought makes my gut clench with jealousy once more.
As the tribe gathers, Vektal gets to his feet. The expression on his face is weary and he looks out at us, as if still weighing his decision up until this moment. His gaze rests heavy on Mardok for a long breath, and then he speaks. “You all know why we are here. And by now, you should know my decision. It is not an easy one to make, because I know that any change we bring changes everything for the entire tribe, not just one or two people. I have weighed this, and I have thought carefully about such things. I have spoken with my mate, and she agrees that we only have one choice we can make, as people. We must open the pods and welcome these strangers into our tribe.”
“You know how I feel about this,” Bek says, his voice flat. “I do not agree. I do not think we should put our mates and the tribe at risk for people we do not know.”
“I agree,” I say, getting to my feet. “You were not here when the strangers arrived. They had strong weapons. They took down our fiercest hunters with a mere flick of the wrist. We were lucky to escape them, and we should take this lesson we have learned and remember that not all people are friendly people.” I want to look in Brooke’s direction, but I dare not. “That they do not view us in the same light that we view them.”
“But how can we leave them as they are?” Zolaya shakes his head. “They are victims, too. Humans are never taken willingly from their world. To leave them trapped in this false sleep is unthinkable.”
“What if they are like Ell-ee?” Cashol says, and earns an angry glare from Bek. “Hear me out. What if they have been captive for so long they do not think like a human? What if they think more like those that arrived here to take captives? What do we do then?”
“The males look as if they would be dangerous, but we cannot free only the females,” Pashov adds in. “That is cruel and unfair as well.”
“There is no choice but one.” Vektal’s expression is firm. “Just because some of who have arrived here are enemies does not mean that all are enemies. Just because we have mates now does not mean that we cannot be kind to other newcomers who arrive here, stranded and taken from their homes.”
We have mates. His words echo bitterly in my mind. I am the only one here who has no one waiting at home for him. The only one whose khui is utterly silent. I glance over at Brooke, and she’s staring into the fire, her arms folded on her knees, her expression thoughtful. If she is pained by such words as I am, she does not show it.
“They are people,” Vektal continues. “And they need our help. We will not abandon them. We will wake them and help them survive.”
“What if they want to leave?” Ereven asks. “What if they wish to take the ship and return with it to the stars? And what if they lead others here?”
“We will never be safe,” says Bek, furious at the thought.
Vektal puts up his hands, indicating silence. “I understand your fears. Georgie and I have thought long and hard about this, trying to consider every angle. We will rescue these people, but they cannot leave.”
“How are we going to stop them?” Mardok asks. “If they know how to pilot a ship—”
“We are going to destroy the ship,” Vektal says in a firm voice. “That way no one can use it against us. No one can use it, no one can leave with it, and no one will be able to trace it here. We will burn it from the inside out, and then we will dump it into the great salt lake.”
Har-loh gasps.
Mardok is silent. He does not look pleased with this revelation, but when Farli reaches for his hand, he gives hers a squeeze. “It must be done,” he agrees. “If we are to be safe, we need to get rid of anyone else’s chance to leave. Anyone that goes back to the stars is sure to leave a trail behind them, and that trail leads back to us. Look at what happened to the old crew.” He chokes up a little.
“But…we’re going to let all of this go to waste? Think of what it could do for our people,” Har-loh says. “Think of the lives we could save. Think of the benefits—”
“I think of all of that,” Vektal tells her. “But then I think of the slavers. And I think perhaps we are safer without it.”
She nods, sl
owly, though it is easy to see the hurt in her eyes.
“Mardok, Har-loh, can you make this cave fly?” Vektal focuses on them. “We can take it to the great salt lake, wake our new tribesmates there, and then let the sands slowly cover it with time.”
“I can do you one better,” Mardok says, and grips Farli’s hand tightly in his own. “I can program the cursed thing to drive itself into the ocean for you, if you like.”
Har-loh looks at him, wringing her hands. “We’ll need a day or two to prepare, I think.”
Vektal nods. “Then it is decided. You will have your two days, and then we ensure no one comes to our world again.”
12
TAUSHEN
The mood is a somber one this evening. Everyone is anxious over what the future will bring, and Har-loh and Mardok have retreated back into the ship’s belly, no doubt to discuss what they will be allowed to scavenge before Vektal orders it all destroyed. The fire is kept high, a ridiculous amount of fuel being spent to ensure the flames stay strong, but no one seems ready to go to bed and greet the next day. Instead, we gather and talk. Or rather, some talk, and I listen and watch.
I eye Brooke as she pulls her knees to her chest, hugging them close as she listens to Salukh talk proudly of his son, Lukti, and his efforts at tanning. Cashol and Zolaya are trading stories about their pregnant mates and the strange things they have been asked to bring them to eat. I envy them the pride in their voices, the eagerness for the future. They have many things to look forward to.
I have nothing more than the same. Every day, alone. My khui refusing all. I feel as if it holds me against my will, preventing me from happiness. Perhaps I should wish for the same fate as Haeden, to have my khui die in my breast so it can be replaced by a new one…but Haeden almost lost his life and sanity when that happened.
Perhaps it is better to be alone and miserable.
Brooke gets to her feet, faking a yawn. She murmurs something to Salukh, touching the arm of the tunic he is showing her, and gives him her broad I-want-things smile. I scowl in her direction, wondering what it is she says. What it is she asks him. But then, she leaves, faking a delicate yawn, and heads into the ship. Her yawn is as false as her smile, I realize. When she was with me that night, her yawns were huge and back-breaking. I had thought them charming in their ferociousness. It only adds to the strange puzzle that is Brooke. Why does she put on a face for others?
I wonder what she would think if I asked her about it.
I wonder if now is such a time. She is alone, I think, and that will not happen much in the future. I get to my feet.
Before I can go anywhere, Rokan and Hassen sit next to me. Hassen puts a hand on my shoulder. “Sit. We should talk.”
“Talk,” I echo, surprised. “What of?” I thump back to the ground, doing my best not to look after Brooke’s retreating back as she heads up the ramp.
“You and Buh-brukh,” Rokan says, voice calm and easy. “It is clear to us that something happened between the two of you. Was it when you were captive or after?”
I sputter, surprised that it is that obvious, and a little angry that even such a thing cannot be kept from tribesmates. I look to Hassen, but he has a brotherly grin on his face.
“Was it resonance?” Hassen asks. “You can share such things with us. We will know soon enough anyhow.”
“If it was resonance, would Rokan not already know?” I snap. “He seems to know everything already. Ask him what I dreamed about last night.”
“The enemy,” Rokan says simply. “You have not slept well since they arrived.”
I choke back my protest, because he is right. Shocked, I stare at him.
Rokan only shakes his head. “You dream of the same things any hunter would. It does not take my ‘knowing’ to realize such a thing. I do not think anyone has slept well since Bek and the others arrived back at the village with only half the group and a terrible story. We all worry over what will change.”
“But we cannot fix such matters, so we will attempt to fix your problem,” Hassen says, elbowing me and grinning. “Speak. So it is not resonance, then? You would not be so prickly if it was. You would be strutting about, waving your cock as if it is the most clever of creatures for spawning a kit in a female, just like those two do.” He waves a hand at Cashol and Zolaya.
I snort. “You did the same when your Mah-dee resonated to you.”
“I did,” he agrees, good-naturedly. “I was so proud of my cock you would think it had dragged on the ground because of its size.”
Rokan just chuckles. “Now there is an image I will have in my nightmares.”
“We are a tribe,” Hassen says. “We help each other out. We laugh together, we strut when we are proud, and we help when someone needs it. Are you sure you are not troubled, my friend?”
For a moment, I think to get up and snarl that I am fine. That I do not need his jokes about resonance and I do not want to hear stories of how happy he and his Mah-dee are. Once, I cast my gaze on the sisters, hoping to resonate, but my chest remained empty of song, and my furs have remained empty until now. Until Brooke, who never wanted my touch. The thought makes my gut ache, and I rub a hand on my forehead. “Have you ever wanted a female that did not want you back?”
“Yes,” Hassen says simply. “They are called ‘humans’ and they love to tease a hunter before coming to his furs.”
I just groan.
Rokan watches me, curious. “You and Buh-brukh, then. You care for her, but…she does not feel the same?”
It is difficult to explain, and I do not know if I want to share what happened between us with them. I do not wish for Brooke to feel uncomfortable around them at the realization that she came to my furs when she was not herself. She has said nothing to the others, and that tells me that it is a private matter, at least to this human. In a tribe as small as ours, everyone knows when pleasure-matings occur, but perhaps Brooke does not feel the same.
Or perhaps she is ashamed of what happened. I hate that thought. “I cannot say.”
Rokan only nods slowly. “But you are troubled, and it is about more than just whether or not you can woo her to your furs.”
He is right. I glance over at him, wondering how much he can see with his “knowing.” “Will she resonate to one of the new males? Will I resonate to one of the new females? These are my greatest worries. We are the only two unmated tribesmates here, and we will be adding twenty new people. I should be excited at the prospect, but instead, my heart is filled with dread.”
“Because it is already given to another,” Hassen says.
I nod. Again, he is right. I look to Rokan hopefully. Perhaps he can give us some guidance.
But Rokan only shakes his head. “I do not know these newcomers. Until I have spoken to them, I think my ‘knowing’ has nothing to see. They are as new snow to me. I can see no footprints of where the future will lead.”
“And what of me?”
Rokan tilts his head. “Do you truly wish to know?”
Dread fills me. He knows something, then. Do I ask? Or do I wait for whatever the future will bring? But in the end, I must find out. “I do wish to know.”
“I see resonance in Buh-brukh’s future,” he tells me simply. “More than that, I cannot say. But I feel it is close for her.”
I am shocked—both at his words and at the wave of jealousy that sweeps through me. So my pink-maned, teasing Brooke is to belong to another male? I clench my fists. I want to pound them against something, but there is nothing nearby but the fire and my friends. My jaw tightens, and I flex my hands over and over again, tightening and loosening into fists. Bitter anger floods through me.
Brooke should be mine, but my khui is a coward, too afraid to claim a female. Because of this, I will lose her to another.
The thought fills me with despair. My hand clenches, this time over my heart. If I could reach in and rip my khui out, I would. “Then I am lost,” I tell them, voice hoarse.
“Bah,” Hassen
says. “Take what you want. If you want Buh-brukh for yourself, claim her. Grab her and take her high into the mountains and bring her back when her belly is full of your kit.”
“As you did my Li-lah?” Rokan asks, and his tone is deceptively mild. “How did that end up for you, my friend?”
“Very well,” Hassen tells him, all smiles. “Because I saved her for you and mated her fierce sister who still attacks me as if I am to be conquered.” He sighs, contentment etched into his broad face. “Mah-dee is a magnificent female.”
“It turned out well because I rescued my Li-lah when she had run away from you,” Rokan all but bristles, and I am surprised to see his reaction. Even after all this time, he still grows protective of his gentle mate. Of course he does. He adores her, as much as Hassen adores her much louder, more forthright sister.
“Do not snarl at me.” Hassen leans forward, hands on his knees as he looks around me to Rokan. “I never tried to mate her, not once. She cried far too much.”
Rokan bares his teeth. “Do not even put the thought in my mind, or I will rip your throat out. My Li-lah—”
I jump to my feet, slapping each of them on the shoulder with affection. “You have my thanks, friends. You have given me much to think about. I appreciate your advice.” And I hurry away before the fight can become physical. They are good friends, Rokan and Hassen, but when it comes to one’s mate, nothing else matters but her.
Nothing else matters but a mate.
Nothing else matters but her.
I ponder this as I head into the ship. I do not head for my own sleeping chamber, but the one where I know Brooke sleeps at night. The halls are eerily silent, and I place my feet on the strange stone floor carefully so as to not make a sound. I do not want to talk to her, just to check on her. To know that she is all right. That she is not troubled. That she sleeps well.