Barbarian's Heart: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 10)

by Ruby Dixon

  “We did! It was great.” Jo-see beams at me. “Making our way down was a little hairy, but Harlow’s talking about setting up a pulley and a lift of some kind. I haven’t seen her this motivated since the earthquake.”

  My mate gives Jo-see a gentle smile. “It’s been hard for her—the ship was her baby.”

  “Where is the chief?” I interrupt. “He will want to know we have arrived.”

  “I think he’s out hunting with a few of the others. Gotta get in the last-minute brutal season supplies and all that.” She shrugs. “We’ll find Georgie and let her know you guys are here, though, and she can pass it on.” Jo-see snaps her fingers and then waves her hands in the air, all excitement. “Oh wait! You guys need to see your house!”

  “Our house? Someone picked one out for us?” Stay-see looks at me.

  I am crestfallen when I realize she must be waiting for me to correct Jo-see. “I will be staying with the hunters,” I volunteer.

  Both women stare at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  Stay-see gives a little shake of her head and turns back to Jo-see. “Will you show us where the house is? I’d love to see it.”

  “Of course!” She links her arm with Stay-see’s and leads her forward. “It’s over here in the center of town. You guys weren’t here, and the floors are warmer closer to the main lodge—that’s the big building on the end there—and so we thought it’d only be fair if we drew numbers out of a basket to see who got to pick first. You ended up being number three, and Georgie picked for you guys.” She beams at my mate. “You got a fantastic house! Mine’s on the outskirts, but I don’t really mind, because Haeden says it means I’m that much closer to him when he comes home from hunting, and you know how much I miss him when he goes out.” She sighs.

  I stop listening as Jo-see starts to go on and on about how impressive and wonderful her mate is. The female chatters like she will run out of air if she stops, but Stay-see does not seem to mind. She glances back at me every now and then, but seems content to let Jo-see lead her forward. I gaze around the vee-lage. To the back of the cluster of dwellings, I see Hemalo helping my brother Zennek and his mate set up their tee-pee atop their cave. Two human females are walking to the big lodge, holding a conversation, with their kits on their hips. I can hear the murmur of voices and the sounds of hammering. Somewhere in the maze of stone that is now our home, a kit cries.

  It feels very strange to be in this place and realize this is home.

  “So, Croatoan? For real? That’s what we’re calling this place?” my mate says, and I am drawn back to the conversation and her sweet voice. “Who came up with that?”

  “Who else? Liz.” Jo-see gives a little snort. “But you have to admit, it does fit. The whole abandoned village and mystery thing.”

  “I guess. I still think it’s spooky. Do we know who was here before us, then? Did they leave any clues?”

  “A few,” Jo-see says. “I’ll show you when we get to your house. Come on. We’re almost there. You’re going to be next to Maddie and Hassen.”

  “I like them,” Stay-see says in a quiet voice.

  “Psh. You like everyone.”

  It is true. My mate does not have an unkind bone in her body. I am pleased that Jo-see leads us up through the main section of the cave—I will always somehow think of our home as a cave, even if it is not—and am doubly pleased to see that the howses here are firm and steady. The stones are neatly stacked in their little rows as they make up the walls, and Jo-see points out Mah-dee and Hassen’s dwelling, which is already covered with a large hide that seems to be sa-kohtsk and a few dvisti hides sewn to it. A small plume of smoke rises from their dwelling, and I watch a curl of it rise, only to be carried away by the wind. Smoke in my eyes is one thing I will not miss about the cave. But with no protection from the weather, I do not see how this will be safe for my Stay-see and my son.

  “Here we go,” Jo-see calls out. “Home sweet home.” She gestures at the doorway of the howse next to Mah-dee and Hassen’s dwelling. “Georgie picked you out a good one.”

  “I’ll have to tell her thank you,” my mate says, letting go of Jo-see’s arm and wandering into her new home. She touches the wall. “The bricks are tight together.”

  “Mortared,” Jo-see says. “No cracks to let the wind in. You might have to plug a few, but otherwise it’s pretty snug, which is nice.”

  “It is.”

  “The stone helps keep the heat from the fire in, too. It’s pretty spiff.”

  Stay-see brightens. “That seems nice.” Her hand caresses the bricks again, and I realize both she and Jo-see seem very small next to the wall. This is not a human-size dwelling, then.

  “Was this made by sa-khui?” I ask.

  “I don’t think so,” Jo-see says, stepping farther into the howse. “You guys crashed here, like, 300 years ago, right? This is way older than that. It’s so old that the roofs rotted off.” She gestures at the open air. “Ariana said she was studying archaeology in college and that a lot of the ruins would look like this. The roof was made out of something that rotted away and all we have left is the stonework.”

  Curious. I follow them in and notice the stones on the floor are even and hard here, too. The walls are all covered with a thin layer of ice that will make things slippery and cold. “This ice will have to be removed.”

  “Yeah, it’s not on the floors because they stay warm. If you take your shoes off, you’ll notice it. Well, I don’t know if you’ll want to take them off right now. Kinda needs sweeping in here. But in general.” Jo-see gestures at the wall, stepping over to one side. “But let me show you this.”

  Stay-see glances over at me and follows Jo-see over. “What is it?”

  “Carvings,” Jo-see says. “All of the houses have a few. Some of them are more detailed than others. You can just barely make it out under the ice.” She slides a hand over the ice, as if trying to wipe it away.

  Stay-see leans in and squints. I move to my mate’s side, curious if it looks anything like Aehako’s carvings. Aehako likes to carve swirls and soft shapes into bone. These carvings are nothing like his—hard and angular, it seems to be made of all sharp edges just like this vee-lage. I do not realize what I am looking at until Stay-see gasps. “Is that a person?”

  I lean in and stare at the carving a bit closer. It does not look like a person. It looks like blocky lines. Blocky lines leading to more blocky lines. “Where?”

  “Here,” Stay-see says. “It’s pretty stylized, but I guess these are legs, and the head, and…” She gestures at four of the lines. “I guess these are arms? Four arms?”

  “Unless they’re two tails,” Jo-see says, amused. “And they grow out of shoulders. It’s hard to say considering it’s little more than a stick figure, but it’s kinda cool, huh?”

  “Weird.” Stay-see runs her hand along the ice, peering at the wall. “These down here aren’t people, though. They almost look like trees. Human trees.”

  “Yeah,” Jo-see says, and there’s a wistful note in her voice. “We’ve been talking about that. There’s a couple of critters that no one’s ever seen drawn on another wall. Big, round, roly-poly things with long noses. Which kind of made us speculate if we’re in the middle of an ice age here. Maybe these people lived here in warmer times and left when it got too cold.”

  “But where did they go?”

  She shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  None of this conversation makes sense to me. Ice has always been here. “There is no place anyone can go that does not have ice,” I point out.

  “I believe you,” Stay-see says. She turns to Jo-see and clasps her hands. “All right. Show me the toilet.”

  Stay-see seems very pleased with the howse. She exclaims happily over the toy-let, the small area in the back with the lip of stone she says will be perfect for a kit-chen, and does not seem to mind that there is no top to her cave yet. Hemalo comes by to speak to us, and we discuss the number of hides n
eeded and the bones that must be used to support the dwelling’s lid.

  Then, suddenly, it seems as if the entire tribe stops by to say hello. People stream in, hugging Stay-see and myself, and my mother takes little Pacy, declaring that we need time to unpack and relax and she will take care of him. Kemli does not realize that I will not be staying with Stay-see.

  Even though things are no longer uneasy between us, my mate still has not asked me to come and live with her. She has not invited me to her bed. She has not accepted me as her mate once more. Until that time, I must wait patiently, and if it means living with the unmated hunters until then, so be it.

  But I will make sure my mate has everything she needs to be comfortable. I will not neglect her again.

  11

  STACY

  The wind howls high above the canyon. One of the strange things about living here at Croatoan is that the wind whistles and hums all day long. It’s an endless white noise and takes some getting used to after the quiet of the cave. I like it, though. It drowns out the small noises of living in a tribe.

  Like the sex. Jesus, Maddie and Hassen are loud. I can hear them in my house, over and over again. Several times a night. Every night. On days like that, I hope for high wind because our little huts are awfully close together, and hearing that sort of thing makes me feel awkward…and lonely.

  I miss Pashov. I miss him so much.

  For the last few days, he’s been staying with the hunters at night. He shows up every morning for breakfast, and I feed him and pamper him, and we talk, and it’s wonderful. It’s almost like we’re mates again. He talks to me about his day, plays with Pacy, then kisses me senseless until he has to go out hunting. He returns at night, and we share a dinner together, more kisses and cuddles…

  And then he leaves to go stay with the other hunters.

  I won’t lie, it’s really messing with my mind. I don’t know what to do. Should I complain? Is there something else going on that he doesn’t want me to know about? Is it his nightmares? I worry about him. I worry about him and I miss him fiercely when he’s gone. Even though I like the hut I’m now in, it doesn’t quite feel like home when he’s not here.

  Other than that, though, Croatoan is really dang nice. Despite the abandoned city’s initial creepiness, I’m getting used to the place. I like the stone walls because they keep the heat in. I like the teepee top of the house because it lets the smoke out. I love the little kitchen area that makes it easier to prepare food. There’s no dishwasher or fridge, of course, but there’s a long stone counter and a basin I can use as a sink, and those are awesome. Most of all, I love my toilet and the cushion-less stool that Pashov rigged over it so I don’t have to squat. It’s the small things that make a house a home, and I never thought I’d be so dang happy over a toilet, but I am.

  It’s a little odd being in a stand-alone house after living in a central cave system with the others for so long, but the lodge roof is coming along nicely, and we’ve taken to gathering there during the daytime. There’s a pump near the pool that’s been repaired thanks to Harlow’s ingenuity, and now we can pump fresh, warm water instead of melting snow. The pool itself feels warmer than the old one in our cave, but it also seems to be fed by a current of some kind, which makes it easy to do laundry at one end of the pool and not muddy the waters for the bathers at the other end. There’s room enough for a fire and gatherings, and Pacy’s had several play-dates with Nora’s twins and Ariana’s fussy little Analay. Even Asha’s been showing up to hang out and play with the babies, and I don’t mind her babysitting because it lets me do a bit of housework without having to watch Pacy constantly.

  Really, everything is great. Sort of.

  It’s just me and Pashov that can’t seem to get it together. Have I somehow offended him? Or is he tired of being around us constantly? Does he not want to be a father and a mate to me and he’s trying to let us off the hook slowly? Maybe…maybe he just doesn’t want me anymore. Maybe he’s no longer feeling the connection between us and is trying to extricate himself.

  I don’t know, and it’s driving me crazy.

  I climb out of my furs and pad over to Pacy’s basket. The floors are deliciously warm and I can actually go around barefoot in my own house. It’s nice. I pick the baby up and give him a kiss. “Good morning, little man.”

  Someone coughs on the other side of the privacy screen over my doorway.

  Is it Pashov? A flicker of annoyance moves through me—why won’t he enter? It’s his home, too, even if he doesn’t want to be here. Holding Pacy close, I move to the entrance and peer out. The brief patch of skin I can see through the cracks near the door tells me it’s not Pashov, and I’m still in my sleep-tunic. Eep. “Who is it?”

  “Harrec. May I come in?”

  Pashov’s friend? I hurry back over to my pallet of furs to dress, setting Pacy down on the blankets. “Is something wrong?” I call out. While it hasn’t been unusual in the past for Harrec to come by and visit, it’s early. Is there something wrong with Pashov? My heart beats a little faster.

  “I wanted to see if you had some of those tasty little not-potato cakes you used to make at the fire. I am tired of eating dried meat.”

  I exhale with relief. It’s not a problem…he’s just hungry and a bachelor. Harrec has no family to feed him. “Give me two minutes to dress.” I bind my leaky breasts and fling on my favorite tunic and leggings. Pacy seems restless, but not so irritated that I can’t start breakfast for someone else. I head over to the screen and pull it back, inviting him in. “Come inside. I need to stoke the fire.”

  Harrec pats his flat belly and beams a smile at me. He’s wearing a fur wrap over his shoulders, and his long hair is tied into one thick braid that bounces against his arm as he moves inside. “You are a good female, Stay-see.”

  “Thanks,” I say drily. “Keep an eye on Pacy, will you? I’ll get food started.” I don’t mind cooking for him or any other of the hunters that show up. I enjoy feeding people.

  He bounds over to my furs, where Pacy is crawling around, and scoops the baby up. I hear Pacy’s delighted giggle and smile to myself as I stoke the fire. Harrec is one of the quirkier tribesmates. He’s a hunter, but at the sight of his own blood? Faints dead away. He’s got a weird sense of humor, but he’s also got a kind heart and likes kids. “This little one has a messy loincloth,” Harrec announces. “Shall I change him?”

  “You would be my hero if you did,” I say. Once the fire is blazing again, I spear my last clod of dvisti dung and toss it on to keep things blazing, then head over to my little kitchen. I pull out a small not-potato from my basket of roots and chop it with my bone knife. I can’t stop thinking about Pashov, though. A bolt of longing shoots through me, and I decide that I’ll make double the breakfast cakes for when he shows up. If he shows up. Gosh, I really hope he shows up. I glance over at Harrec and he’s changing the baby, making silly faces for him as he does. “Where’s Pashov this morning?”

  Man, that did not sound casual at all. So much for keeping my cool.

  “Oh, I am sure he will be here soon once he hears I am here.”

  I glance over. That’s a weird thing to say. “Why’s that?”

  “Because I am trying to make him jealous, of course.” He grins at me and swings Pacy into his arms. “What better way than to come and flirt with his mate and play with his kit?”

  I chop a little faster, irritated. Is that what this is about? He’s come to flirt? “Hate to break it to you, but I am not interested.”

  “Oh, I know this.” Harrec laughs, playing with Pacy some more. “You are my friend’s mate and I would never do such a thing. But he does not know this.”

  What on earth is he talking about? He’s such an odd duck. I frown as I grab a bit of dried meat and mince it, but he says nothing else, just plays with Pacy. Maybe I misheard him.

  I move toward the fire and put the little cakes on my scorched bone plate. It’s not holding up well against the repeated use in the fir
e, but without my skillet, I don’t have another option. No sooner does it start to sizzle than Pashov peeks in through the doorway. “I smell cakes?” he asks, a delighted look on his face.

  That delight changes to a thunderous frown when he sees Harrec.

  “Good morning to you,” Harrec calls out, bouncing Pacy on his knee. “Enjoying our fine weather?”

  Pashov enters and moves near the fire, his eyes narrow. “The weather is poor.”

  “Is it?” I ask. “It’s so hard to tell here in the canyon.” The little city is insulated from the worst of the snows, and apparently they have been raging pretty hard lately. All we get is the occasional sprinkle of drifting snow and the incessant howling above.

  Pashov nods, moving to sit next to the fire. I don’t miss that he’s sitting between myself and Harrec. I’m a little surprised—and irritated—by that. Does he truly think I would show any interest in his friend? All I want is him.

  The first cake is ready, and I plate it, then offer it to Pashov. He looks surprised but gives me a grateful smile, then scarfs it down. Between bites, he glances over at Harrec. “Are you hunting today?”

  “Of course.” Harrec blows a raspberry on Pacy’s belly. “I just wanted to get fed first.”

  Pashov grunts and then looks over at me. “It is good. Thank you.”

  I nod and feel like blushing a little, but I get to work on the next cake, slathering it with a bit of fat so it’ll cook up tasty. They discuss the game in the area and the fact that no one has seen a metlak since we arrived. I don’t mind if the metlaks are completely gone, and say so, though I do think about the mother with her little baby every now and then.

  Eventually all the cakes are made and both hunters fed. Pacy starts to get fussy, and so I hand the last cake over to Pashov and put the baby to my breast.

  Pashov sets his little plate down, watching me.

  “Not hungry?” Harrec asks, reaching for the plate. “I will take that—”

  Pashov slaps his hand away. “This is for Stay-see. She has not eaten.”