by Luna Voss
As far as I can tell, I’m more or less fucked.
My mind races for what to do. Staying here in my cart would be dangerous. I’d be a sitting duck for predators. But I don’t want to abandon my cart, either. I’m not even sure which option is safer. Either way, I’m in a lot of danger, and either way, I’m not getting paid for this cargo run.
And on top of all that, I’m now at real risk of losing my hover-cart, the one thing that makes it possible for me to do my job and earn a living.
To put it simply, this absolutely fucking sucks.
Never in my life have I wished I could undo a decision more than I do right now. Why, oh why did I choose to take that stupid shortcut through Kyrzon Territory?
And yet, as bad as everything is, it is entirely possible for things to get worse.
Entirely possible.
…A fact that becomes abundantly clear to me when I hear the clip-clopping of enormous hooves coming toward me through the slush. I turn, panic rising inside me, and see a tusk-ox approaching, an enormous, bearded Kyrzon riding on its back. For a moment, we make eye contact, and then he grins at me, licking his lips.
Not good.
Chapter Four
Bella starts to bark as the Kyrzon trots toward us. The seven-foot-tall alien dismounts from his steed, his demeanor casual, almost lazy, and he walks over to where my dead hover-cart is firmly lodged in the ground.
I’ve never spoken to a Kyrzon before. The only times I’ve even been around them are on Auction Days, when Kyrzon warriors descend on Human Territory, each of them hoping to purchase a human bride.
There’s no use in hiding from him. He obviously sees me. All I can do is stay where I am and hope that his intentions aren’t nefarious.
“Uh, hi!” I call out to the Kyrzon, doing my best not to show the fact that I’m terrified. “My… I seem to have gotten my cart stuck. Is there any chance you could help me free it?”
It’s a somewhat pointless question. Even if he could help me free my cart, it’s not like I have any reason to believe I would be able to get it working. But I’m not really asking for help. I’m trying to judge his intentions. To break the ice in the friendliest way that I can, and hope that he responds positively.
He smiles, and to my intense discomfort, it’s not a kind, warm, or helpful smile.
It’s a predatory smile.
That’s not what I was hoping for.
I don’t like this.
“I don’t think I can, miss,” the Kyrzon responds, moving closer. As he does, I see a weathered face, mostly hidden behind a long beard, the hair black with flecks of gray. He wears a thick fur cloak, much more appropriate for the snowy weather than my own jacket. As he looks at me, his eyes narrow, as though pleased.
Bella eyes him warily, her body language defensive. I shift in my seat, very aware of how vulnerable I am all alone out here. I’m not sure what to say next. I watch as the alien walks up next to the hover-cart. I see a quiver of arrows on his back.
“I can’t fix your cart, but I can give you a ride to the nearest human settlement,” says the Kyrzon. “Would you and your dog like to come with me?”
I’m taken aback. I had been preparing for much worse. The offer of help is unexpected, but welcome. “Yes, thank you so much! That would be incredibly helpful. I’m Tessa, by the way.”
“Murk,” says the Kyrzon, gesturing to himself. “Do you have a name for the dog?”
“This is Bella,” I tell him, petting her. “She’s going to act all shy at first, but I promise she’s a bundle of joy.” I glance at the tusk-ox, waiting patiently a short distance away. “Are we going to ride on the tusk-ox with you?”
The idea both thrills and terrifies me. Humans don’t ride tusk-oxen. The enormous, tusked creatures are far too powerful and strong-willed for us to control. That the Kyrzons have tamed them to such a degree is fascinating to me.
“Bella can ride in the cart,” says Murk.
I frown. How is Bella going to ride in my hover-cart?
“An actual cart,” he grunts. “With wheels. Pulled by my animal. It’s not as fancy as yours, but it does the job.”
I look around him through the falling snow, and sure enough, I can just barely make out the outline of a wheeled cart parked behind the tusk-ox.
“Okay, she can ride in there,” I say, turning to my pet. “Ready to go, girl?”
I hook up her leash and climb out of my crashed hover-cart. Bella springs out next to me, and I take a final, sad look at my vehicle. Its bottom is wedged deep into the mud, with the crates of wheat sitting pointlessly in the back.
“Hey,” I say to Murk, an idea coming to me. “Is there any chance you have room in your cart for these crates?”
I may not be able to finish my job, but at least I’ll recover the cargo. If I can come back here soon and get my hover-cart up and running, I won’t be too hard done by this situation after all.
“Yeah, I think I have space,” Murk says, and my heart soars. It might be a little tight with the dog, but I think we can manage. What’s in there, anyway?”
“Wheat,” I tell him gratefully. “Bound for New Sutter. Lots of demand for cookies around the holidays, you know?”
As I say it, I feel awkward. I don’t even know if the Kyrzons celebrate holidays, much less if they eat cookies. I don’t know anything about these aliens at all.
But Murk just smiles. “Sure, sure, lots to do around the holidays,” he says, going around to the back of my hover-cart.
I watch as he effortlessly lifts one of the wheat crates that the human workers had needed hover-dollies to handle, and then stacks another crate on top of it. He carries them over to his tusk-ox, and then comes back for another load.
I pet Bella, pleased with the way this is turning out.
As far as Kyrzons go, this one seems pretty damn helpful.
Chapter Five
“Do you run across humans often in Kyrzon Territory?” I ask Murk, sitting in front of him on back of the tusk-ox. The cart rolls along behind us, Bella inside.
The Kyrzon doesn’t respond immediately. “Yes,” he says finally, his tone measured.
“You do?”
He doesn’t answer. As we ride, I begin to notice something: the landscape going past us doesn’t look familiar. If we’re heading back to Human Territory, we’re taking a route that I’m not familiar with.
“Which settlement are you taking me to?” I ask nervously.
Murk reaches into a pouch on his saddle and pulls out an electronic device that I don’t recognize. He holds it out for me to look at, and I stare at it, not understanding the meaning of this gesture.
“Do you know what this is?” he asks.
“No,” I tell him, the hair on the back of my neck starting to tingle. Something about this is starting to feel very wrong.
“It’s an EMP blaster,” says Murk. “When it fires a pulse, any electronic equipment in the target area gets disabled. Buying this thing wasn’t cheap, but it works like a charm. It disables everything. Even hover technology.”
Cold fear washes over me as the obvious implication of what he just said lingers between us. I don’t want to ask him if he used the device to disable my hover-cart. I already know the answer.
“What are you going to do with me?” I ask, my voice shaking.
Murk chuckles. “I haven’t decided yet. Ordinarily, I would sell you at the Clan Burbba auction. But ordinarily, I would have at least three humans tied up in my cart right now, not one woman and a dog. Just been hell, hunting in this weather. I haven’t decided yet what to do with you. In the meantime, don’t get any funny ideas about running off.” He taps the quiver of arrows on his back threateningly. “You’re only valuable to me alive, but I’m not poor enough to bother chasing you in the snow.”
I have a wrench in my stomach as we continue to ride. This has been a day of insane ups and downs, and right now, this is one hell of a down. This is like my worst nightmare of what could go wrong taking a
shortcut into Kyrzon Territory.
I seriously hate my past self for deciding to take that stupid shortcut. Now I’m fucked.
* * *
We ride until the light begins to fade. The landscape changes, and becomes heavily forested. The weather continues to worsen, the flakes of snow big and cold and aggressive. I feel the frigid air burning my ears and the skin of my face.
“I’ve decided what I’m going to do with you,” Murk announces suddenly.
“What?” I immediately reply. I hate myself for playing along with my captor, but I have to know.
“I’m going to present you as a gift,” he says. “To the chief who controls these woods. It’s the night before Christmas, after all. You will be a gift to the chief, in exchange for the friendship of his clan and a warm, safe bed for me to spend the night.”
I say nothing. Why bother? It’s not like I’m going to be able to talk him out of it. It’s obvious that he’s a slaver, a Kyrzon who makes his living kidnapping human women and selling or trading them to the clans. I’ve heard that such Kyrzons exist, forcing women to become Brides outside of the official auction process. Apart from the dangerous animals of this planet, it’s the main reason I was always given as a child never to leave Human Territory.
If only I had listened.
* * *
Two spear-wielding Kyrzons greet us as we approach what seems to be some kind of fortress. Each of them carries a torch in their other hand, casting a flickering orange light upon the snow.
“Who goes there?” one of them asks, his voice booming.
“I have come to see Chief Borrik,” Murk announces. “I am a trader, and my only wish is to spend a night of warmth and safety in your hall.”
The two Kyrzons glance at each other, looking unimpressed.
“I bring a gift for Chief Borrik,” says Murk, gesturing to me. “A human woman.”
Their eyes widen as they notice me.
“You may dismount,” one of them says to Murk, stepping forward. “I will make sure your tusk-ox is well cared for, and that your cart of goods is kept safe. Follow my companion, and he will lead you into the hall.” The Kyrzon points to me. “Bring the woman with you to present to Chief Borrik.”
Chapter Six
“It’s a good thing you found your way to Borrik Territory tonight,” says the Clan Borrik warrior leading us as we crunch our way through the snow on the way into the castle. “Talk about a storm. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be out in this.”
“Tell me about it,” says Murk. “I had no idea it would be this bad. I’ve been hunting humans near the border for the last two days, and all I’ve been able to find is this one.”
He gestures to me. I look down at my feet, hoping they won’t engage with me. All I want to do is disappear.
The Clan Borrik soldier laughs. “Hey, at least you caught one of them. And by the way, great idea to win the chief’s favor. If I were the chief, you’d be welcome here any time with a gift like that.”
“Oh good, I’m glad you think it will be well-received. Usually I go to Clan Burbba to sell my haul, but it’s not really worth making the trip for just one human. Will Chief Borrik be interested personally, or is he going to auction her off?”
“Well, he says he isn’t interested in taking a mate, and so far, that’s been true. But I wonder if he might make an exception for this one. I know he likes the bigger girls. I’m certain he’ll find her interesting.”
My face burns to hear them talk about me like this. I follow the two of them meekly, unsure what else to do. Yeah, I could try to run, but I would last about two seconds alone in the snowy wilderness. And realistically, I’d probably be full of arrows before I made it ten feet anyway.
“I hope you have food?” Murk asks the Kyrzon soldier leading us. “I haven’t eaten all day.”
“We’re just finishing the feast, but there should be something left over,” the soldier responds. “Why don’t I take Borrik’s gift upstairs, and then I’ll show you to the dining hall.”
* * *
I stand outside the war chief Borrik’s chamber on the upper floor of the castle, listening. Borrik’s soldier is inside, telling him about me.
“...Apparently he caught her near the border of Human Territory. He’s leaving her here as a gift to you, Chief Borrik.”
The chief is silent for a moment before he answers. When he does, his voice rolls out of the room like distant thunder, rumbling and deep. It doesn’t make any sense, but I’m surprisingly comforted by the sound. His voice is gruff, but pleasant. I could listen to him speak all day.
“He left her here? Where is she?” asks the chief.
“She’s waiting outside.”
Borrik is silent for another moment. Then he swears. “Fucking slaver. He didn’t hurt her, did he?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Good,” grunts Borrik. “Poor girl was just living her life. She must be terrified. We’ll send her back home when the storm clears up.”
Immediately, my heart soars. Home. He’s going to send me home. My nightmare has an end.
“You sure you don’t want her?” the soldier asks, sounding a little bit hesitant. “She’s cute, you know. You might like her. And besides, she was a gift. Isn’t it rude to return a gift?”
There’s silence, and I can only imagine that Borrik is glaring at the other Kyrzon.
“I’m sure,” Borrik growls. “Send her in. You’re free to go.”
My stomach flutters with nervousness as I hear footsteps approach the door. It opens. The Kyrzon who led me here appears, and he gestures for me to go inside.
“The chief will see you now.”
I nod and head into the chamber.
Chapter Seven
I step into the chamber, and I’m greeted by the sight of a hulking figure. Even for a Kyrzon, Chief Borrik is enormous, with bulging muscles clearly visible under the rolled-up sleeves of his tunic. His hair is dark, as is his beard, and both are closely cropped. He’s the most attractive Kyrzon I’ve ever seen.
Hell, he might be the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.
He sees me, and he turns. His eyes scan up and down my body, almost as though he’s drinking me in. I see something behind his eyes that makes me shiver. Something like approval. Or desire.
Then our eyes meet. And suddenly, my knees feel a little bit weak.
What the hell, Tessa? This is a Kyrzon war chief, for fuck’s sake!
Borrik’s expression changes slightly, almost imperceptibly, and I see a hint of some new emotion creep onto his handsome face. As though he’s surprised by me. Or by this moment. Or by whatever is going on between us as we continue to look into each other’s eyes.
I break first. I can’t help it. The intensity of maintaining his gaze is just too much, and I look down.
“I hope you haven’t been mistreated?” the chief’s voice rumbles through me.
“N-no,” I stutter.
Borrik raises his eyebrows. I wilt, feeling silly. Of course I’ve been mistreated. I just got kidnapped.
“I haven’t been hurt,” I amend myself, still staring at the floor. “He disabled my hover-cart.”
“I am glad to hear you have not been harmed,” says Borrik. “I want you to know that as long as you remain with Clan Borrik, you will be under my protection. My clan is not large, but my men are loyal, and you have my word that you will be safe here.”
“Thank you,” I say, stealing a glance at him. He’s stroking his beard now, not looking at me.
“I intend to return you to Human Territory as soon as the weather makes it safe to travel,” Borrik continues. “I am sorry that you have been brought here in this way. I will do what I can to make it right.”
“I’m very grateful,” I manage to say, relief washing over me. At the same time, I’m surprised to notice a sensation that feels very much like butterflies in my stomach. Something about this powerful, confident Kyrzon chief is captivating to me. For reasons that
I don’t entirely understand, I want him to like me. To approve of me.
My mind flashes back to what his soldier said to Murk as he walked me into the castle: “I know he likes the bigger girls.” I think about the way Borrik looked my body up and down when I first entered the room, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from blushing. I can still see a hint of that same burning interest flashing behind his eyes.
“I can offer you a place to stay in the castle,” says Borrik, “but I understand if you are not comfortable around my kind, given what has just happened to you. I can also offer you a cabin to stay in that is removed from the rest of the settlement. You would have more privacy there.”
“Thank you, Chief Borrik,” I say gratefully. Christmas eve in a winter cabin sounds kind of nice, to be honest. “I would prefer to stay in the cabin, if that’s alright.”
“It is quite alright,” says the chief.
“How long do you expect it to be before it is safe to travel to Human Territory?”
“Hopefully not more than a day or two. But it is hard to say. This is a greater storm than we have had for some time. I cannot predict when it will break. Are you hungry?” he asks me suddenly.
“Yes,” I admit, my stomach grumbling as if to underscore the point.
“I will send for some food from the kitchens,” says Borrik. “It is my understanding that humans usually enjoy Kyrzon cooking. Once you have eaten, I will lead you to the cabin myself, and make sure that you are comfortable there.” He starts to leave the room, and then turns back to me, as though remembering something. “I just realized I never asked your name.”