by Lizzy Ford
I listened, grateful for him giving me something other than my fluttering heart and scattered thoughts to focus on.
“When you first are imprinted upon a rawerah, it’s easiest for you to command them out loud until you adjust to giving the commands in your head.” Teyan stood back and motioned for me to do the same.
The cat was watching me, his tail flicking and his eyes wide.
“What do I command him to do?” I asked.
“Whatever you wish. They have been bred to understand pretty much any command you can think of.”
“Hmm. Okay. Sit,” I ordered the cat.
It obeyed.
“Roll over!”
It dropped to the ground and rolled, kicking its legs as it did so.
I smiled, amazed by the idea the cat would really do anything I wanted it to.
“Easy?” Teyan asked.
I nodded.
“Intense emotion can cause him to become feral or react in a way you don’t want him to. Be careful with your thoughts,” he warned.
That sounded bad. I wondered if the cat knew I was attracted to Teyan and how much of a rollercoaster my emotions went on just standing beside the Tili warrior.
“Can he talk to me telepathically?” I asked.
“He can. They can project emotion or feeling. It’s very primal, very basic. They are not complicated to understand. They also know how to say a few words. Food, hunt, water, danger, pain,” Teyan explained. “They can never be collared or chained, and almost every rawerah will want to hunt at some point during the day. They are battle cats, and each one is implanted with a defensive shield to protect them. They catch their own food, except in circumstances where hunting isn’t possible.”
“Then what do you feed them?”
“Any kind of raw meat.”
At first the idea of feeding the massive cat seemed daunting, until I considered how much food my mom normally cooked. Would my rawerah eat pasta? We’d definitely have plenty of that, if nothing else.
“You’re really giving him to me?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yes.” Teyan’s faint smile was present once more. “He will protect you when I can’t.”
I’d never heard anything more romantic than giving someone a prehistoric, telepathically linked predator for protection.
“You must name him,” Teyan said when I was quiet.
“I heard you named yours Gianna.” I said with a chuckle.
He cleared his throat, and I glanced at him, surprised to see he appeared to be embarrassed. “Kay was not supposed to reveal this,” he admitted.
“I love it,” I replied.
He held my gaze long enough that I started to overheat, and even my rawerah sat up and started rubbing his face against Teyan. Humiliated to think the great cat was responding to what I felt, I turned away from Teyan and sucked in several deep breaths to regain mastery over myself.
Only one name came to mind when I thought of what to call the beast. When I felt ready to handle my surroundings, I faced Teyan once more. He was scratching the rawerah’s neck.
“I have a name,” I told him. “Tomtom. My father’s name was Tom. He died when I was young.”
“Honorable choice,” Teyan replied. “We often name our cats after those we have lost.”
He thought he lost me. I didn’t know what to say or even really how to process the idea.
“Tell him.” Teyan nodded his head towards the cat.
Grateful for the distraction, I drew near once more and gazed at the cat somewhat apprehensively. It stood and waited, as if feeling I had something important to tell it.
“Your name is Tomtom,” I said slowly and clearly. “Tomtom.”
The cat blinked.
Was that his way of saying he understood? I was in completely new territory here. I scratched its forehead, a little braver after what Teyan had told me about the species.
“Would you like to discuss your mother’s situation?” Teyan asked.
I released a sigh and nodded. The wired energy present since my mom disappeared was similar to that which I felt before finding out Teyan and his world hadn’t been destroyed when I locked the door.
He stepped aside once again, and I joined him. Tomtom trailed us as we began to walk through the encampment and towards the jungle to the side of the bustling city.
I explained what I knew of Jiod, and what Carey had shared about the Council and missing Caretakers. The wild hope Teyan would somehow know where another alien would deposit hostages soon faded when I saw his expression grow severe. He was grim, and I saw a possibility in his eyes I didn’t want to admit.
Reaching the jungle, we followed a well-beaten path towards another of the secret lakes hidden in the jungle. This one was much smaller without any dinosaurs in sight. Large boats floated in the center, and a stone walkway had been laid around the circumference of the lake for the city’s residents to stroll.
Teyan was quiet too long after I finished my tale, and I looked anxiously up at him, willing him not to tell me my mom was dead. I couldn’t read his hard features.
He offered another faint smile, pensive. “I cannot guess what this Jiod was thinking or what his motivation is,” he said at last. “Our alliance broke with the Nidiani five winds ago, after they refused to send us aid. It was the battle that took the life of two of my brothers. I am still unable to forgive them for betraying us. They do not know the war will annihilate their world, if it defeats ours. Nidiani does not have the ability to fight as we do. They thought they could negotiate with our enemies.” He fell quiet.
I immediately felt worse about being here at the sad note in his voice when he mentioned his brothers.
“We will go there,” he decided.
“Go … to Nidiani?” I asked, surprised.
“I have diplomatic relations with a few of their leaders. I do not trust them to support me at war, but they will answer my questions, or they will not like the consequences.”
His resolve kind of scared me.
“You are sure?” I asked.
“They owe us,” he said firmly. “They will cooperate.”
It wasn’t a resounding reassurance he didn’t mean to kill every Nidiani who crossed his path. Then again, what did I care? If those people had a hand in kidnapping my mom, as Carey seemed to believe, then I wasn’t going to pity them if a certain Tili warrior or rawerah took out anyone stonewalling us.
“Was this Jiod the same person who closed the portals?” Teyan asked.
I stopped walking, cold fear streaking through me at the thought I was about to lose his help if I revealed the truth. But looking at the man who spent two years searching for me and gave me a saber tooth cat for protection, I couldn’t find it in me not to tell him. He once told me allies never kept secrets from one another. What was unusual for me was the desire not to withhold anything when it came to Teyan. Trust was difficult for me, but I had always found it easier than wise to trust him.
“No,” I said. Drawing a deep breath, I braced myself again for his rejection.
I told him what happened and watched his face as I did so. By the end of it, my voice was quivering and I wanted to run back home and never see him again. I fell silent and waited for the worst.
He didn’t speak, and I couldn’t read him.
“If I hurt you …” I cleared my throat. “I hurt my family, and I can never forgive myself for it. If this changes your decision, I’ll understand.”
“It changes nothing.” Teyan reached out and took my hand. “I am only sorry I could not find you before this. I am a patient man, Gianna. I knew we would meet again.”
The gentle understanding from the quiet warrior with his intent gaze was almost more than I could handle. He had wasted two years of his life trying to find me – and no part of him resented me for it. I had never met anyone so certain of himself as he was, or so committed to honoring an agreement made to a complete stranger.
The sense I experienced the night he almost died re
turned as we gazed at one another. He was my anchor, and I was his, and this … we were all that existed in any time and place.
My throat was too tight for me to respond. I slid my hand deeper into his and began walking again. Being here beside him on a foreign planet felt more real than any other moment of my life. I was scared, giddy, relieved and worried all at once, so aware of him I didn’t notice Tomtom talking to me until he darted into the brush.
Hunt, the great cat had said into my mind.
I couldn’t acknowledge him or Teyan, not in my current state. I drew several deep breaths and released them and centered myself the way the court-appointed therapist had taught me. Teyan deserved better than someone who had a meltdown every five minutes, and I was no longer the lost teenager haunted by her past. At least, I was trying not to be her. I was a Caretaker who had to find a way to help other Caretakers escape from a crazy alien.
“Thank you,” I said when I was back in control. “For everything.”
“You do not need to thank me. We are allies,” he said, amused. “You need only ask, and I will travel to a new world to help you.”
“You really discovered an entirely new world?” I asked.
“I did. It was unknown to the Tili but not to the Woli, whose planet connected to it.”
I smiled. Then I laughed at the idea of him walking onto an exotic, new world then turning around and leaving, because it wasn’t mine. My life had taken a turn for the bizarre the moment I set foot in Arizona – and I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.
“Your laugh makes me happy,” Teyan murmured. “You did not laugh when we first met. You have changed, even if you have not aged.”
“I have,” I agreed. “It helped feeling as though I had a purpose in becoming a Caretaker. I had something to look forward to instead of always looking over my shoulder. I wish …” I stopped, and worry returned.
“We will find your mother.” He squeezed my hand.
I believed him.
We continued until the pathway met a road leading back to the city. Teyan walked with me away from the quiet lake. He didn’t let go of me, even when we entered the ivy-covered metropolis. I suspected it wasn’t a Tili tradition to hold hands with random strangers but his continued interest in me that started – for him –years ago. I never did understand why he admitted to liking me.
The more I saw of his world, the more certain I became of one thing: he wasn’t going to abandon his people to come to my world, even for a coffee date. I never really held out hope he would, but … well, maybe I hoped he’d visit often enough for us to be friends at least.
It took effort not to sigh out loud. My immediate concern was my mom. What happened after we found her, I couldn’t begin to guess, and I was already afraid of being hurt when this was over. Not physically, as I used to fear about everyone I ran into, but emotionally. I had Tomtom to help me tackle my physical insecurity. It didn’t seem possible for people from two different planets to be together even as friends when we both had our own responsibilities.
And yet, whenever I sneaked a look at Teyan’s strong profile, I couldn’t help hoping the future wasn’t as cruel as the past. I wasn’t able to imagine a scenario where this turned into something greater but I wanted to.
He caught me gazing at him. I flushed, and he smiled. Sunlight filtered through the canopy far above and caused his skin to turn colors wherever it hit him.
“I will send envoys this evening, ahead of our journey,” he said. “It will be faster for us to cross through the Bikitomani home world to Nidiani. Our envoys will ensure the route is safe and negotiate any truces we need.”
“Because your coalition broke,” I murmured. I wanted to ask more about it while at the same time fearing the response. The prospect of there being a mountain between my mom and me that we might not be able to scale would see me in tears. I preferred to believe the route was going to be unimpeded. “This won’t cause you any issues with your war, will it? I mean, if you’re gone and so are some of your people, will your enemies have an advantage?”
Teyan shook his head. “Four of the six Tili tribes remain. We rotate two at a time to the battlefield, two resting for several weeks in order to preserve what we can of our strength.”
The question I wanted to ask, if the war against these ambiguous monsters was winnable, stuck in my throat. It definitely didn’t sound like Teyan was winning.
A shadow swept by us, and I looked up with a gasp. The pterosaur circling overhead was large enough to be a train carriage with wings.
“I have seen little of your world,” Teyan sounded both curious and amused. “You do not have animals like we do.”
“Nothing like this. Our pet cats are this big.” I held out my hands about eighteen inches apart. “And our birds about half the size of our cats.”
“Tili must be frightening to you.”
I nodded and began walking again. “I love the idea of a rawerah for personal protection though,” I admitted, thoughts on the night that change my life. “Does everyone have one?”
“Most people do,” he said. “I have had three killed at battle with me. The one I have now is the sister to yours.”
I had no idea why I blushed at that.
He paused in front of one of the many low buildings. “I must return to my warriors for the time being. You can stay here.” He motioned to the ivy-covered house. “No one will disturb you.”
“Thanks.”
He cleared his throat. “Would you care to share the evening meal with me?” he asked.
My heart pounded in my chest, and I looked up at him again. A date with a man I could probably never be with, once this adventure was over?
“Yes,” I said. “I would like that.”
If nothing else, I was great at complicating my life.
“Your rawerah will find you when he is done hunting,” Teyan said. He released my hand. “I will return for you later.”
I nodded.
With another long look, he turned and strode away.
I watched him, unable to understand what I was thinking or feeling. I had always liked Teyan more than I probably should, always been connected to him since the fateful night we met. Was it possible he was like everything else in my life? A fleeting spark of happiness that would be crushed? The odds seemed astronomically against me at this point. How could I possibly fall for an alien whose life was threatened daily by war, and whose path was likely never to cross mine again once I left?
Whenever I thought of Teyan, I knew the answer.
How could I not? It didn’t just fit the pattern of my crazy life to fall for someone so far out of reach, but the man himself was nothing short of amazing. Willing to risk his life and take time away from leading his war to help me find my mom? This after he followed me to Komandi and sought me out to become a friend.
And after he admitted, ten years ago in his time, that he liked me from the first moment we met.
We were more doomed than the couple in any Shakespeare play I’d been forced to read in high school. Before the incident and going to Arizona, I wasn’t able to appreciate the complexity involved in tragedy, in knowing a bad ending was coming and continuing to walk towards it. I always thought those characters were stupid or silly or completely made up.
If they were, then I was, too.
Realizing I was standing in the middle of the busy sidewalk staring into space, I went to the door of the house where he had left me. After a brief hesitation, I knocked and pushed the door open without any expectations of what a Tili house looked like.
The great room before me was simply furnished with wooden chaises and chairs low to the earth, two fireplaces and richly embroidered velvet and leather tapestries on the walls. The colors were brilliant compared to the green-brown-blacks that otherwise made up the jungle dwelling society. Bright blues, reds, yellows and purple quilts, rugs and pillows formed a rather chaotic combination of color that was reflected in the threading of the tapestries. Wooden
walls and flooring, glowing orbs that lit up the home as bright as day, and a breezy hallway leading deeper into the house finished off my first impression of the dwelling.
The amount of seating room and chairs made sense for a community based society, but I found myself wondering why there were no windows. I went to one of the orbs out of curiosity and was once again puzzled by what appeared to be some kind of advanced technology. No plugs or switches were visible and when I lifted it, it was lightweight. The material had the cool smoothness of metal and was translucent enough for me to see a small ball of something in the center that glowed.
“Whatever,” I said with a sigh and replaced it on the table. I wasn’t able to explain people with chameleon skin any better than I was the weird orb, but I didn’t think it really mattered if they were advanced or backwards.
The rest of the house contained a bathroom, three bedrooms and another large room for gatherings with a central table stacked high with what appeared to be board games. No kitchen was present in the house, and no windows either. The Tili existence appeared to be rather simple. In a million years, would humanity live this simply? I had always thought we’d have spaceships, robots and live in apartment buildings in the clouds.
Worried about my mom but at least somewhat confident I was on the right path to finding her, I picked a bedroom and sat on the low, firm bed for a quick meditation. I didn’t have my anxiety pills with me, so breathing exercises and affirmations were going to have to get me through this experience.
I had barely finished when my door was pushed open by none other than Tomtom, who appeared even larger in the tiny room.
“Holy …” I hissed out a breath, my initial terror of the great cat fading when I realized he was mine. I stared at him for a moment, wanting to take a nap but not yet comfortable with owning a prehistoric animal.
Tomtom crossed to the orb glowing in a corner and touched it with his nose. The orb dimmed, and the great cat stretched out along one wall, apparently sensing I wanted to sleep.