Wordless

by Adrianne Strickland

  “So it’s just biology with me, too?”

  “No! Well, some of the impulses I have are, yes.” I flushed. I didn’t want to be having this conversation—but hurting Khaya because of a misunderstanding would be far worse. “And there have been a few of those. But I’ve tried really hard to be more of a gentleman than that.”

  “So under the lake, when we kissed, you would have preferred to be more gentlemanly there?” Her expression had gone from cool to cold and I knew I’d said the wrong thing again. “Friendly?”

  I wanted to grab my hair. “Gods, Khaya, you have to know how I feel about you! Don’t make me say it!”

  “Why not?” She looked at the doorway over my shoulder, impatient, like she wanted to get this over with and then go. “You don’t want to hurt my feelings?”

  I wanted to tear my hair out. I slammed my fist into the wall instead. “For the Gods’ sake, Khaya, I’m a puppy! I’m a big damned puppy when I’m around you!” It wasn’t a sappy, sweet declaration. Horrified self-disgust rang in my voice. “I’m a stray—Drey found me and then you found me. I’d follow you anywhere, in case you haven’t noticed, and I’m afraid you’ll abandon me, because then I’d be—I’d be lost!”

  “It goes both ways,” Khaya whispered.

  “And I—what?” There was hope in my last word, flaring amidst what had been a tirade of increasing despair.

  “I feel the same way,” she said. “I keep waiting for you to get tired of risking your life for me. You should be tired of it. You’ve helped me so much already, in ways you don’t even know about. I’m the Word of Life, and yet you’ve given me life. I don’t want you to get hurt anymore, but then I think about you leaving me, and I … ”

  So that was it. Khaya didn’t want me to leave her, to go back to Eden City with a cure for Drey or frolic off with Pavati or whatever else. Because I was important to her. I was wordless and powerless, and yet I was somehow worth something in her eyes.

  She didn’t notice the astounded look I was giving her because she was talking to her clasped hands. “I’ve laughed more than I have in years, more than I can even remember. This is the happiest I’ve ever been, but it’s the saddest you’ve ever been. Then I see you with Pavati, how easily you two laugh together, and it’s like—”

  Khaya couldn’t continue in that calm, agonized voice, because my hands were in her hair and I was kissing her.

  For the first second or two, she was so stunned she didn’t move. But then her lips responded, her arms flew around my neck and her body surged into me, knocking me backward from where I’d been crouching. The feeling of her breasts pressing against my chest made my brain go numb.

  My hands moved automatically, running down her back, cinching around her waist and lifting her onto my lap. Her legs straddled me. I was happy to let my hands rest on her hips, since this was more than I’d ever touched her—my arms, my lungs, my mind full of her—but she seized my wrists and dragged my hands up her sides, planting them where her rib cage turned into the soft, outer curve of her breasts.

  A lightning bolt of excitement shot through me—I could feel it crackling in my fingertips, on my tongue. My hair was probably standing on end for all I knew. Still, I tried to speak with her mouth against mine.

  “Khaya, wait—”

  “I have urges too, Tavin Barnes,” she whispered fiercely between kisses. She almost sounded angry. “Don’t think I don’t.”

  Her fingers were dancing down my back, then slipping under the edge of my T-shirt. She started peeling it off.

  “I believe you,” I said, my hands finding hers. I held them still.

  Her lips pulled away from mine. “You don’t want—” she began in a flat voice.

  “Mother of the Gods, you don’t think I want to?” I hissed. “Look at me!” I was panting, my hair in my eyes, and nearly shaking from the effort not to tear her shirt off. “But we don’t even have a door!”

  There was more to it than that. With all of Drey’s lectures, he sure as hell hadn’t let me escape without hearing about all the consequences of unprotected sex—especially the reproductive consequences. And yet, while he’d prepared for my getaway by stuffing the backpack with everything I might need in an emergency, he’d somehow not foreseen this kind of emergency.

  He’d only given me one form of protection: a gun.

  I didn’t exactly want to tell Khaya the truth. Even I knew that admitting I didn’t want to get her pregnant would be utterly tactless.

  “Besides, I haven’t showered in, like, a week,” I added.

  “You actually care about that?” Khaya asked, but she let my shirt drop.

  I had to tune out all the second thoughts pounding through my skull before I could answer. “I really smell,” I said finally.

  “I don’t care!”

  “But you would care if Tu walked in on us. Think of all the insightful commentary he would have.”

  “Tu doesn’t have the requisite experience for insightful commentary … not that it would stop him.” Khaya let her head drop onto my shoulder. “Ugh. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “That’s okay. Trust me.” I squeezed her, kissing the side of her face so hard that she grunted. “You can be thoughtless like this whenever you want. It’s just—maybe a little bit of thinking here or there is good. But we can stop.”

  She lifted her head, a slight smile on her amazing lips, and she kissed me again.

  My brain definitely ceased working. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed pressed together, our hands running over each other in the dark. I probably wouldn’t have noticed the passage of time until I passed out from thirst or hunger.

  Fortunately, Khaya had the wherewithal to stop herself, this time, when she grabbed handfuls of my shirt like she wanted to rip it from my back. Because I wouldn’t have been able to resist a second attempt.

  She released my shirt with a groan. “Gods, I want to.”

  “There’ll be other opportunities.” I had to fight down a breathless laugh when I realized what I was talking about—and my desire to give in. These were words I never thought I’d say to a girl, let alone to Khaya. “We only need a shower and a change of clothes and a door.”

  “I don’t know,” she said into my neck.

  The feeling of her lips brushing my skin made it difficult to talk. “I won’t forget, if that’s what you’re worried about. Gods, I won’t be able to think about anything else ever again. Thanks a lot.”

  “No, I mean, I feel like I have to seize my chance.” A laugh escaped me, and she leaned back to glare at me. “I’m serious. You don’t know what it’s like. Any … involvement … with the Words is forbidden. There can be no physical attachments, no loyalties other than to the City Council, and nothing to complicate the succession of the Words.” She probably meant unplanned pregnancies, but she didn’t say it. “That’s why they fired that Godspeaker for even kissing me. There are things I never thought I would be able to do … and now I want to.” Her eyes softened, heavy-lidded, swallowing me. “I want you.”

  I had to break eye contact. “Khaya, if you keep saying things like that, in that way … You’re killing me, really. This is torture.”

  “Now you know how I feel.”

  I remembered what Tu had said when he first found me with Khaya—that he couldn’t wait either. The Words were the most powerful people on the planet, but they were also a bunch of hormonal, pent-up teenagers facing a short life of celibacy. I was hormonal and pent-up too, but I’d at least lived without thinking that I would be that way until I died—at age forty, no less. If I were in her position, I would have wanted it just as desperately. I pretty much already did.

  “Khaya, we’ve got to wait for a little bit.” Forcing out the words was almost painful.

  “I know,” she said. And then: “Until when? When will we have time?”

  I d
idn’t laugh at her eagerness this time because the question made me pause—made me remember everything that had happened before her kiss had wiped my brain clean. “I don’t know. I guess we don’t have a lot of time. I need to see if Drey kept a cure at that Swiss address.”

  “And if he did?”

  I grimaced. I already felt like I’d had to choose between Khaya and Drey when I’d helped Khaya and left Drey at the mercy of Herio. Now I was choosing all over again … except this time, Khaya’s life wasn’t at stake. Drey’s was. Maybe mine too, but if there was a chance I could save him, I had to try. “Khaya, if there is a cure there, I have to get it to him. Whatever it takes—”

  “I know. And if there isn’t one?”

  If there wasn’t … “I don’t know. I’ll just have to decide what to do then.”

  Khaya nodded, then released me with a deep breath. “Then let’s go.”

  She didn’t sound distraught over my decision, but then, she rarely did. Maybe she was just facing reality with her usual stoicism. I didn’t feel stoic. There was a sharp pain in my chest as I let her go, so strong it almost brought me back to my knees once I stood. I offered her my hand, but she shook her head.

  “You go ahead,” she said. “Let the others know we’re ready to leave. I’ll be there soon. I just need to catch my breath and”—she sounded embarrassed—“straighten my hair and clothes.”

  I left before I could change my mind.

  If Khaya was hoping to keep our interaction a secret, it was a lost cause. When I returned to the main room of our burrow, Pavati was leaning against the wall that still hadn’t reopened after Tu vanished behind it, nonchalantly picking at her nails. But there was a smile lifting the corner of her mouth.

  “I thought you weren’t going to listen,” I hissed.

  “I heard only one thing,” she said, “and only because you shouted loud enough to bring the place down. I don’t think Tu heard, because I’m positive he would have come out of his hole to mock you by now.”

  I rubbed my forehead, squeezing my eyes closed. “Don’t tell me. I can guess.”

  “Likewise … don’t tell me why you’re a puppy. I can guess.”

  “Pavati.” I opened my eyes and gave her my most charming smile. “I haven’t killed anyone yet, but there’s still time.”

  She grinned back at me, flashing brilliant white teeth. Then she made a motion of zipping her lips closed. Even after she’d pantomimed locking them up and throwing away the key, she was still smiling so broadly she could barely keep her mouth closed, and laughter sputtered out.

  “I don’t care if you’re a Word,” I said. “I will kill you.”

  She had to resort to covering her mouth after that, because she couldn’t stop. When Tu leapt through a widening gap in the wall a moment later, demanding to know what all the fuss was about, she only shook her head with tears in her eyes, thank the Gods.

  twenty

  Tu wasn’t happy when Khaya reaffirmed her decision to accompany me into the Swiss Alps, and was even less happy when Pavati announced she would go with us “just for kicks”—which made Khaya sigh almost inaudibly. I only heard it because I was standing right next to her. I had to resist sighing myself. We definitely wouldn’t have much time alone.

  But it was good to see Pavati backing her friend, even if Khaya’s decision seemed weird to her. Khaya had probably saved her life, after all.

  Mostly, it was good to be moving. If I wasn’t going toward Drey, I desperately hoped I was at least headed toward a cure for the Word of Death.

  Tu agreed to go with us only because he insisted I wasn’t man enough to protect the girls, never mind that Pavati turned the earth under his feet into a watery bog after he said that and Khaya’s voice ripped roots out of the dirt walls to lash around his neck.

  “See,” Tu said, sunk up to his waist and half-strangled. “The only reason I don’t have rocks crushing you right now is that I’m looking out for your safety.”

  “Thanks,” Pavati said, leaving him to extract himself. She began marching down the newly extended tunnel that stretched away into darkness.

  The earth pushed Tu back aboveground at his command, solidifying beneath his feet. He rubbed his neck after he unwound the now unmoving, limp root. “I didn’t even know you could do that, Khaya.”

  Khaya’s eyes were disturbed. “I didn’t either, until recently.”

  “I guess they didn’t spend a lot of time developing your assault capabilities at the Athenaeum. You are supposed to be the Word of Life,” he said in a withering tone.

  She looked embarrassed. “I know … it’s not right.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” I said. “It sure would have been useful with the dog. It’s interesting that Tu can drive you to violence but not the thought of getting ripped to shreds.” I looked at Tu. “Never underestimate how torturous your company is.”

  “Maybe Khaya just didn’t care enough to save you,” he retorted. “You’re a wordless idiot, after all.”

  I laughed at him. The memory of Khaya kissing and touching me made me feel like I was encased in a warm glow, almost like a force field. I nearly felt high. Khaya was blushing as if she felt something similar.

  “It’s the second time in as many minutes that you’ve shown you don’t know a thing about us ladies,” Pavati called from up ahead in the tunnel.

  As we walked, I had to admit that traveling with two additional Words was not only safer but made for much easier going. Even though Tu made his displeasure as obvious as possible, complaining every step of the way, I couldn’t help but appreciate his smooth, gently sloping tunnels in comparison to the tangle of the forest. Never mind those rough, freezing streams. The only water we saw was what Pavati summoned whenever we needed a drink, drawing it up through the ground. That was about as much as I ever wanted to see again.

  We were still hungry, though—insanely hungry, in my case. Walking even made me feel dizzy, but I didn’t want to say anything until Tu did. Which didn’t take long.

  “Is anyone else starving?” he demanded, as only the latest of his many complaints. “I am.”

  “We could surface to get our bearings—” Khaya began.

  “I know where we’re going.” Tu tapped his head. “Built-in compass. I can feel the earth’s magnetism.”

  “Or at least so I can get my bearings,” she continued. “And while we’re up there, maybe I can find some mushrooms and berries to—”

  “Berries?” Tu scoffed. “What about a sandwich? And I could really use a shirt. We need to get back in touch with civilization, people. I know you’re anxious to run and hide, but unless you want to weave your own clothes and starve to death on what Khaya can farm along the way—”

  “He’s right,” Pavati said. “We need to make a pit stop. Where’s the nearest town?”

  “There’s a small one, called Martigny, a few miles east of here,” Khaya said, hesitating. “It’s actually on the way, just across the Swiss border. But we were trying to avoid being seen.”

  “We’ll be fine!” Tu said, waving a hand in the air. “No one will bother us. And if they do, we’ll teach them a lesson.”

  Khaya’s full lips pressed into a hard line that he couldn’t see, since the two of us were walking behind him and Pavati. “That’s exactly what we want to avoid. We’re hiding, Tu.”

  “I think a little noise might let Eden City know we mean business.”

  “You can go make all the noise you want. By yourself.”

  “Don’t worry, Khaya,” Pavati said, grinning back at us. “I’ll keep a tight leash on him.”

  Tu whooped. “Oh, baby, if that’s how you like to play, I’ll put on a leash and collar for you anytime. How about tonight?”

  “In your sad little dreams.”

  The walk continued in a similar pattern, the tunnel opening onward, smooth an
d straight, even when we passed through different types of soil or rock. And the banter between Pavati and Tu didn’t change much, either, with his complaints or crude advances shut down by her biting comebacks. Tu never stopped trying to change everyone’s mind about going deeper into the Alps, and both sides got more and more insistent—or belligerent, in Tu’s case.

  Tempers grew shorter and hotter as the miles passed underfoot, a crabbiness I attributed to hunger. We divided up the remaining two food bars, but the morsels weren’t even enough to make my stomach stop aching. By the time the path began to rise upward through the earth, we were all about ready to murder Tu, and he certainly felt the same in return—at least toward me.

  So when the tunnel opened up in the trees and we saw the small town of Martigny across a dying, autumn-colored valley in the late afternoon sunlight, I was almost relieved.

  It was the first settlement I’d seen outside Eden City. While it was small and simple, with none of the shining glass and steel I was used to, it wasn’t nearly as outlandish as I’d expected. The wood and stone buildings were low to the ground, but constructed in a predictable fashion, and there were streets, streetlights, and signs. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting. This was Switzerland, after all, a not-so-

  distant, if foreign, country. There were, however, far more words on these signs than in Eden City, where they used a lot of pictures for the wordless.

  Tu shuddered. “I take it back,” he said, his breath fogging in the crisp air after the relative warmth of the tunnel. “I don’t want a shirt. I want a sweatshirt. Or five.”