She was undoubtedly combative, stubborn and distrustful, but she was also strong, brave, and intelligent. He admired her attitude in the face of her obstacles, both external and internal. She would have made a strong and much admired Vori among the clans. As an offworlder, it was hard to anticipate how it would work for or against her favor with the es’Agor clan.
It was of no matter. Eyuul would liberate her from the nest soon enough. He just needed the right opening.
JENN PACED THE SMALL room, her mood darkening as she tripped and stumbled over the mounds of pillows. A few days ago, she might have just curled up on the pillow and cried, but all she felt now was anger. She vented by kicking one of the cushions out of her path. There wasn’t an inch of clear space for her to walk; it was like a massive luxurious bed, something which didn’t make her any more comfortable sharing the space with her guard.
While the room had lusher cushions, and a cleaner quality to it than last room she’d been in had, it was oppressive. Everything about it—from the beautiful pillows to the heaping plate of food—screamed gilded cage. This was reinforced by the long blue coils of Emelo’s tail blocking all methods of escape as he reclined near the entrance of what he called ‘the nest proper,’ whatever that meant. He’d watched her with a speculative look on his face for the first hour until Xenel brought food for them. After that, he paid her little mind, his attention fully on his food.
For a time, Xenel had coiled up beside him, and the males had talked quietly among themselves as if she weren’t there, but she had a feeling her relentless pacing had been harder for him to ignore. Within minutes, he left again, and Emelo continued to eat.
Jenn had no illusions of thinking she could sneak past him. Although he didn’t so much as glance at her as he slurped the meat from the broken shells of one of the spider’s legs, the muscles in his tail were tense and alert. If she or one of the cushions so much as grazed his tail, she knew he would react with swift retribution.
After sucking down the final bit of meat, he cast a glance at her plate and raised a scaled eyebrow.
“Are you not eating? I assure you: refraining will not change our mind. It will only hurt you in the end.”
Jenn grimaced at her plate, the smell making her stomach churn. She couldn’t possibly eat a spider. She didn’t consider herself squeamish—she’d even tried rattlesnake and locusts, at her father’s insistence—but she drew the line at eating a spider. She prodded the meat and ate some of the other food around it before setting the plate aside. Emelo’s frown deepened and he pushed the plate closer to her.
“The shoyla meat is good for you. Eat it.”
“I’ll pass,” she said, pushing the plate away with her toe. “I draw the line at eating a spider.”
“I do not know what a spider is, but shoyla is considered a delicacy among many Vori who dwell in the valleys and deep jungles. What you are pushing away many would be grateful to receive even a taste of.”
“Well, be sure to package it and send it to them with my fondest regards.”
Emelo hissed and slapped the plate, sending the meat flying against the wall. “Fine. It doesn’t harm me if you wish to be hungry. I will not pamper you as some do for their human mate. If you do not eat what I give you, then you will not eat at all until your stomach pains change your mind... and then you will eat that,” he gestured to the scattered food against one wall, “before you have anything else.”
“It’s good to know that there are some Vori who have some passing knowledge of good manners,” she snapped.
“As a common, brutish human, you will never understand the true dignity and grace of a Vori female. You know nothing of such refinement. You are merely a pitiful stand-in.”
Jenn flinched, hearing the same dismissive tone she’d heard on Agraadax, and it fed her anger, which probably made her mouth a bit freer than what was wise.
“I heard. Struck out with your own kind, did you? Now who’s really the pitiful one?”
With her words, a dull rattling sound kicked up in the room. Jenn swallowed her fear and threw out her chest, facing the male head-on as he lifted his torso higher above her in a menacing fashion. She recognized the tactic.
“And what terrible thing do you think you can do to me that hasn’t been done yet?”
For a moment, her words seemed to throw him, but then his face darkened with fury. He inhaled deeply, his chest expanding, and the rattling on his tail grew sharper. He opened his mouth wide, showing his glistening fangs that seemed to be coated with some kind of venom. He didn’t strike; instead, he laughed cruelly.
“Oh, do not worry. I won’t kill you. But you don’t need to be able to see to bear our hatchlings. My venom will take care of that, and it may be suitable punishment. But should you forget, I will remove your tongue. There is much that you can survive... but, ah, the pain will be sweet.”
Jenn’s bravado fell away as he seemed to enlarge and approach her. He drew back his head as if preparing to spit his venom at her, but his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell forward onto the pillows. Just behind him, drawing a ragged breath, a dark green male—Jiriel, she recalled—dropped what looked like a blowgun and shoved Emelo’s large coils out of the way. He waved her forward with a jerk of his hand.
She arched her eyebrows at him as she approached. He shook his head, the strange coils there curling around him in a manner as if there were hands wringing together. When she was close enough, he leaned forward and whispered, “Come. I need to get you out of here. Please don’t judge us all by the behavior of Xenel and Emelo, though many males sympathize with their situation. There are few females in the mountains, but that doesn’t excuse their behavior.”
He grimaced as he led her through the corridor that separated the sleeping room from the main room. “We were only supposed to be out hunting shoyla. I thought Emelo netting you was an ill-mannered joke, given that his cousin-by-nestmate formed a mating bond with a human. When I saw they meant to keep you, I’d hoped to be able to bargain to have you turned over to me so I could get you away from them. Xenel is a favorite of the matriarch. There would be little I could do if he mated you. This is my only option, and I am sorry that I cannot do more without arousing his suspicion. I will try to keep his clan distracted while you make your escape. The sleeping dart will wear off in a few hours, so you have nothing to fear immediately from Emelo, and right now everyone else is feasting and celebrating your arrival.”
Her mouth dropped open. “It’s not like I had a choice!”
“You did not,” he agreed. “But you represent hope to our people. Still, the way it was done is not right. I have been petitioning the clan to accumulate credits to submit paperwork for acquiring mates from the Mate Index. If some of the more impetuous males get it into their heads that they can follow Xenel and Emelo’s example that it’s acceptable to steal mates, it will set back any progress I’ve made in recent cycles.”
“That’s why you are helping me escape?”
“In part,” he agreed without elaboration. “When you leave the nest, stay close to the highest rocks bordering the nesting grounds. From there, you should have a clear shot in the jungle. Head southwest back toward the Norveth Valley. As I said, the es’Etale clan have a human mate among them. I am confident she will aid you.”
“Thank you,” she breathed as she darted by.
Like the other Vori home, or nest as it seemed to be called, the large sleeping room led into a bigger main room before terminating in a narrow corridor that opened up to the outside world. She burst into the open nesting grounds, the cool air caressing her skin as her eyes sought out the landmarks described by Jiriel.
Her eyes landed upon the tall ragged stones and she crept toward them, keeping her body low to the ground with a hope of avoiding attention. Nearby, she could see the Vori laughing and talking together. The smell of food and fire was thick in the air, and to her relief everyone seemed pleasantly occupied. As Jiriel had said, the atmosphere was celebratory. No one seemed to
be standing guard.
With a confident grin, she rounded the corner of stones and sprinted toward the jungle, avoiding the mass of Vori and the few solitary ones separated from the group.
The cover of the trees, which had felt so oppressive as she’d walked, were now a welcoming presence, protecting her with the shield of its overgrown foliage. She ran without caution, the need to put distance between her and her captors a driving force rushing through her blood. She should have known better than to run blindly into the jungle, but that thought was slow to bloom in her mind.
It didn’t hit her until a massive body dropped from the trees above, pinning her to the ground.
Jenn resisted, fearing that one of the Vori had caught up to her, but then a thin green leg landed inches from her eye and cold terror pooled in her belly.
She’d fallen prey to a shoyla.
She felt the sting of fangs pierce her flesh, sinking deep, and the burning pain of venom washed through her blood as the world dropped away. Her last conscious thought was wondering why her face suddenly felt wet.
Chapter 8
There were many times when Eyuul had felt the pinch of fear in his life, but none compared to the terror he felt when he watched the shoyla drop on Jenn. He’d thought nothing of the male entering the nest, the low visibility of the evening offering him few clues as to his purpose. When his female emerged minutes later, he’d nearly fallen from his place in the tree. He descended as he watched her drop low and rush over the nesting grounds, staying close to the shadows of the taller rocks.
Moving cautiously to avoid attracting the attention of the es’Agor clan, he’d followed behind, covering her escape. At the jungle’s edge, he’d abandoned all efforts to watch for pursuers and propelled himself through the trees at high-speed.
Shoyla preferred to hunt at night, and worry fueled his chase.
He’d breathed a sigh of relief, his tongue flicking out to reassure himself of her sweet scent on the air, when a shoyla dropped from the trees. It was not a large specimen, but big enough to find a lone human a tempting meal. It sent her flying to the ground. She struggled but it was not enough to dislodge the predator before it sank its fangs into the muscle of her shoulder, pumping its venom into her body. He’d rushed the creature, refusing to let it take his female. Even as he stabbed its vulnerable spot between the plates of its head and abdomen, he watched in horror as her limbs stiffened and then went limp in toxic paralysis.
The shoyla screamed, writhing before it dropped, its purple blood splattering over the human below it. With a snap of his tail, Eyuul shoved its body aside, too worried to even consider harvesting its meat, though his stomach complained from hunger. He pushed her hair and the fabric of her dress away from the bite. With the barbed end of his tail, he cut into the swollen flesh before applying pressure with his fingers to push out as much of the venom as he could. The yellow-tinged fluid seeped out with her blood.
Once he was certain that her blood flowed clear, he stripped a broad frond leaf from a nearby plant and wetted it with the antiseptic properties of his saliva before wrapping it over her wound. Pulling her into his arms, he glanced around the dark trees nervously. The light of Vora’s moons bounced off numerous eyes of Shoyla waiting in the lower trees.
His options were few. He either needed to find a cavern or climb to the higher Teriaf canopy of the trees above the webs and hunting grounds of the shoyla.
He had no chance of making it to his nest for a few days yet. Perhaps longer, because she would need time to heal before he attempted to move her back down the Shagorith Mountains. She hadn’t had enough time to recover from nearly drowning before she ran away from him. Her body needed rest and nutrition. The shoyla’s bite was a further setback, but not a lethal one from what he could tell.
Her color seemed fine, other than paling from the initial shock, and he could detect her slow, shallow breaths drawing and exhaling air from her parted lips. In most fatal instances of shoyla bites, obstruction of the airway was the first sign of trouble that started within minutes of the bite.
“Hold on, female,” he whispered, “I’ve got you. I will get you somewhere safe.” He hoped that even if she couldn’t hear his words, the sound of his voice on some level might comfort her. So that she’d know that she wasn’t alone.
Her eyes stared sightlessly in the distance and her face showed no signs of reaction, but he swore he saw something relax in her. As if she recognized that he was near. It was likely his own wishful thinking, especially since she’d never shown anything other than fear and anger toward him, but he knew he could not fail her.
Holding her close to his chest with one arm, he used his free arm and his tail to pull himself into the trees. A few of the shoyla darted near, but he repulsed them by swinging his tail at them, the barbs extended in a clear threat as he rattled his tail. Several of the larger ones braved nearing biting range and felt the sting of his lash before they fell off balance from the branches. Only the smaller, more determined ones continued the pursuit until they edged higher into the canopy.
The Teriaf canopy had its own dangers. The mogva hunted by soaring high over the jungle, looking for prey. Although mogva were capable of snatching shoyla, Vori, and other wildlife from the branches and jungle floor when necessary, it seldom passed up an easy kill if it caught sight of prey in the upper canopies of the jungle. His coloring would protect them from a mogva to some degree, as long as he kept Jenn covered as much as he could with his tail and kept still whenever the predator flew overhead.
It was still a risk but better than taking a chance trying to tend to Jenn in shoyla hunting grounds.
Settling onto a thick branch, he anchored himself with his tail as he wrapped his arms around Jenn, pulling her into the curve of his body. She felt alarmingly cool, but her breath continued to fan his skin in soft gusts. Ignoring the pain in his stomach, he rested his head upon hers, his crown coils dragging along the woven lengths of her hair and wrapping around them. He didn’t analyze the gesture too closely, aware that it was often something that was done among nestmates; he just felt an undeniable need for that small contact.
The next morning when he woke, his female wasn’t any better. Her face had a bit more color, and at some point, the rigid muscles in her eyes had relaxed enough to allow her to close her eyes, but she didn’t awaken.
She was like a sleeping matriarch in the story that Reggie told the hatchlings, who could only be awakened with love’s first kiss.
Eyuul didn’t believe his kiss would cure her, or even know if what he felt was love. He felt admiration, lust, and the undeniable mate-bonding urge of a male who has scented a compatible female who would make a suitable mate. Did that mean love? He wasn’t sure, although Reggie’s tales had absurd notions of relationships, some of which sounded disturbing to him. Even if it were not love, he definitely held high esteem for Jenn and felt protective and possessive of her.
He ran his hand over her cheek. “I need to find food and water. I won’t be long,” he murmured.
Once he was certain she was settled securely against the trunk of the tree, he slid down the tree, his attention alert as he made his way back down to the shoyla he killed. The meat was spoiled by now, but if he could retrieve his spear, he would be able to hunt more. Eyuul smiled at the sight of his spear protruding from the grizzly remains of the shoyla. He pulled it free, watching as the joint broke free and the head tilted forward, and sloughed off the carcass. Running his fingers along its metal shaft, he kept a wary eye on the trees as the spear collapsed into a rod no longer than half the length of his forearm. Sliding it into the belt around his waist, he struck out in search of food.
Abandoning the kill from the night before, Eyuul stuck to the jungle floor, his senses alert for any sign of prey. Except for the sounds of insects, the jungle was quiet, with no sign of animal life that could feed him and his female. Still, he pushed forward, not allowing himself to feel disheartened. It would do neither him nor the human any g
ood. But he couldn’t help the unease that settled in as he drifted further away from her resting place. He was about to turn around when he heard the grinding bark of a wild corcoo.
It was rare to find corcoo in higher elevations. Enough that he was almost inclined to fall to his belly in adoration to the Mother of Nests... almost. Though not the most spiritual among his clan, being far more pragmatic in his approach to the gods, he didn’t object to giving offerings of sweet burning herbs on sacred feast days and when the occasion merited it. This appeared to be such an occasion. He swore to himself that he would make the appropriate sacrifices upon returning to his clan.
Corcoo eggs, while not pleasant to eat raw, would be highly nutritious for them. A large egg would feed them easily. If he were fortunate, he would find a nest with multiple eggs so one would not be missed. It was considered ill luck to remove every egg from a nest even among the domestic corcoo.
He patiently followed the circling corcoo tracks and eventually came upon the eggs hidden among some low-growing fronds. A clutch of four green eggs leaned against each other. Sliding one egg out, he left the rest of the nest undisturbed as he turned away, eager to return to his female’s side.
It took him little time to return to where he’d stashed the human, although she did not rouse at his presence. He reassured her that he was there and had brought food. Using one of the long barbs on the end of his tail, Eyuul pierced the top of the shell, leaving a hole. Snapping his tail a few times, he broke up the contents before removing his barb. The pungent aroma overwhelmed him.
He tried not to think of the awful smell as he tipped the edge against her lips and poured a small amount into her mouth. She gagged and he rubbed her throat with his fingers until she reflexively swallowed. It was perhaps a small mercy that she was unconscious and didn’t have to experience the revolting taste of the contents as it slid over her tongue.
He wasn’t fortunate enough to be spared and he needed the food. He grimaced as he put the shell to his own mouth and tipped it back, swallowing before he could change his mind and. His gut rebelled in reaction to the smell and flavor but accepted the nutrition. He repeated the process, passing the egg between them until not a drop remained and his hunger was comfortably abated.
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