by Izzy Shows
"Eyrus?"
"Home. Home is Eyrus. Eyrus will provide for you."
He smiled. "Eyrus. That's a beautiful name."
I beamed. I was proud of my home, my planet, my people, and my language. The compliment meant a great deal to me, especially considering how distant the other humans had made themselves from me.
"I was afraid you might not want us here," he said.
"Oh. You is think I make trouble so you cannot stay." I deflated somewhat, hurt by the accusation.
"No, no, not really," he said, shaking his head emphatically. "I didn't think it, but others are saying it, and I had to ask. To be sure."
I nodded. I could understand that. It stung, but he was their leader. If he did not see to their concerns, he would be removed from his position. That was the way the world worked, no matter the society.
"Is OK," I said. "I understand."
"You are very…impressive. Not many would take such an accusation with such grace."
I wrinkled my brow. "I think you say something good, but I not sure."
He laughed. "Yes, well. You are good. Very good. Thank you."
We smiled at one another—the smile, the knowing, of two leaders who understood one another. We both knew that lashing out was not the proper way of handling things, that cool heads were required. He was a good leader, and I could respect him.
He needed this world for his daughter, and I knew he would move the stars themselves to get it for her.
Just then, Kaidan appeared at my side.
"Are you done eating?" he asked.
I sighed. I didn't want to go back to the room. "Yes, I'm finished."
"Thank you for speaking with me, Xiva," Anders said, standing up at the same time I did.
"And thank you for your cool head," I said, smiling at him. I turned to leave with Kaidan, then I paused and looked back. "Anders?"
He'd only taken a few steps away, and now he turned back with an eyebrow raised. "Yes?"
"Can I go outside?" My voice was soft, almost scared.
I hadn't asked in a long time. I had asked at the beginning of my confinement, but I had learned that it was pointless. My requests had been denied too many times, and I feared rejection again. But maybe now that Anders knew that I was not the troublemaker, he would agree?
"I need to train," I said. "I need to prepare for my brother—he who will hurt you. I must protect you. Please, let me train."
I saw the look that passed between Kaidan and Anders. They clearly did not believe me, even now.
That hurt in more ways than I had expected. Anders, I could understand. But all the work I had done with Kaidan? All the time we had spent together, learning from one another, and still, he doubted me?
I drew myself up to my full height, towering over Anders and challenging Kaidan's stature.
"You arrogant men who do not believe must respect that this threat is very real to me. Is important. Is necessary for me. All I want is keep you safe, and you deny me?" My Common was halting, I knew that, but I dared them to laugh at me for it, to do anything other than take me seriously.
To their credit, neither of them did.
Kaidan looked abashed, unable to meet my eyes now, and Anders appeared to retreat into himself somewhat.
"All right, all right," he said, shaking his head—how odd that he would use such a gesture with these words. "I see no harm in it. You have been very patient with us, very understanding. You can have three hours outside."
Victory.
Kaidan
Xiva was somehow both terrifying and amazing at once. Spending a month with her, talking to her day in and day out, had been nothing less than sheer torture. Every moment I spent with her, every breath I took that drew her scent into my lungs, was absolute agony.
But I wouldn't have traded a single second of it.
Not just because she was painfully beautiful to look upon, but because she was perhaps the best teacher I had ever met in the universe. She never berated me for getting the pronunciations wrong, she never pushed me to do more than I was capable of, and she was always understanding and patient when I did something wrong. She understood that it was difficult, and she made allowances for me while still holding me to a standard she knew I could meet.
And the flip side of that was, she was an amazing student. The woman had a knack for languages; that much was obvious from the way she had picked up Common. It should have taken her much longer—it's one thing to learn a language native to your home planet, or one that was influenced by a neighboring planet that yours traded with frequently. It's an entirely different beast to learn a language with no relation at all to any language you've ever known, that you have no starting point to go off of. But she was a damned hard worker with a good ear, and she soaked up the information like a sponge.
She impressed me, though I didn't want to admit it to myself. I didn't want to admit anything other than needing the woman for answers: for the lessons she gave me, for the magic she was teaching me, though I kept that carefully under wraps.
I couldn't risk someone finding out that I was learning magic from Xiva—they all feared her for what she could do. If they found out that I was learning, it wouldn't go well for me, and it definitely wouldn't go well for her. They'd accuse her of something stupid, like bewitching my mind and seducing all their men away. It would be ridiculous, the stuff of medieval legends, but I didn't doubt it would happen.
So, we kept it nice and quiet, practicing in her room with the door closed, and I was careful that no one saw me come or go. They might not figure out that she was teaching me magic, but I didn't need it spreading through the rumor mill that I was spending so much time with her.
As it was, people had made up their own excuses for where I was most of the time, and that was fine by me.
"Walter?" Xiva's voice pulled me from my thoughts.
"Huh?"
"Can bring Walter?" she asked.
I would never tell her, but the way she spoke Common was entirely too adorable. No one should be that adorable, and I doubted she would take it as a compliment, anyway. She was the kind of woman who commanded respect—and, besides, I would never tease her about it. She was putting in a lot of work to learn a language completely foreign to her. That was something to be commended, to be respected.
"Yeah, we can get Walter. Give me two seconds," I said.
"Not really," she said, narrowing her eyes at me.
I laughed. "No, not really. It's just a saying."
"Yes, yes. Go get Walter."
I left her at the door of the cafeteria and went to find Walter, which wasn’t hard to do, since he was smack-dab in the middle of all the scientists. Walter was the kind of guy everyone liked; no one could turn him away from a conversation.
Apparently, not even me.
Somehow, Walter had attached himself to me and Xiva—not that there was a me and Xiva. He made a lot of appearances in our training sessions, but only when I was teaching her Common. I didn't trust him to know I was practicing magic. I didn't think it would go well.
He had said a time or two that he considered us something of a family, a tighter-knit group than any he'd been part of before. He didn't seem to get it, no matter how many times I told him, that I was only spending time with Xiva because I'd been assigned to her, and because she'd asked me to teach her Common.
It was almost as if the kid had a sixth sense and knew that something else was up, though he was polite enough not comment on it. And he honestly didn't seem to care either way. He just really enjoyed hanging out with us.
I would never say it to his face, but the little guy had grown on me. I liked having him around, and I would have missed him if he ever decided that he had more important things to do, more important people to spend time with. It was odd for me to spend so much time with anyone outside of the Raiders.
I had spent less and less time with them as the month wore on, and I knew that Jarek was growing suspicious of that. He had always been ab
le to see right through me, which was dangerous right now. I would need to figure out a way to deal with that before it became a problem.
"Hey, Walter, we're going outside," I said as I reached his table.
"Cool!" he said, jumping up. "Let me take my tray in, and I'll meet you at the door."
I was glad I didn't need to expand on who 'we' was. I didn't particularly like the idea of broadcasting Xiva's activities—I knew the others didn't trust her, and I didn't want to make things harder on her than they already were.
I walked back to Xiva, who was holding herself a little more stiffly than she had been when I left.
"You OK?" I asked.
The movement was so subtle that anyone else would have missed it, but she tipped her head in a way that meant no. I didn't understand how we had picked up each other's nonverbal cues so well, but I knew she could read me like a book, and I was pretty sure I had her pegged nine out of ten times. It made the language-learning process a helluva lot easier, but on some deeper level, it disturbed me. I shouldn't be getting so close to her.
And I shouldn't care that she wasn't OK, but, damn it, I did.
"What happened?" I kept my voice low, but I couldn't help my aggressive tone.
The same gesture. No.
Not here, then. She didn't want to talk about it right now.
"All right," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "But soon."
Her head tilted to the other side. A concession.
It worried me that she wasn't speaking at all. It betrayed an emotional response deeper than she was generally given to.
Walter picked that moment to join us, though.
"Hey, Xiva!" He grinned as he bounded up to her.
Her transformation was so startling to me, since I'd been paying attention to her before, that for a second I was completely thrown. One moment she was stiff, upset, and the next she was warm and welcoming.
She had pulled on a mask. I knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. I had learned quickly that Xiva was adept at putting on one face or another whenever the situation called for it. It was clear that she was most comfortable with the one that represented an emotionless void, but she had learned that humans didn't respond all that well to it. So, she had developed new faces, faces that represented warmth and happiness and, in general, that she wasn't a threat.
I hated that she felt the need to slip into a mask, even now. I hated that she didn't feel comfortable enough to be herself.
"Hel-lo, Walter," she said.
"I hear we're going outside," he said.
"Yes, is good. Anders has finally given me leave."
"Fantastic. Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get going!"
And with that, we set out from the cafeteria. We made a pit stop at Walter's room so he could change into the tech suit the scientists wore—not as heavy-duty as my own, but designed to keep them protected from the elements, with a bunch of gadgets and gizmos added for whatever they happened to be doing.
That done, we made our way to the exit chamber. Walter and I put on our oxygen masks, and I double-checked that my weapons were in place.
Xiva stood there with a little smirk on her face that I was sure she thought was hidden from us. She'd told me once that she found our masks a little ridiculous and our shoes hilarious.
Why did that amuse me more than insult me?
At last, we hit the airlock button and plunged out into the unforgiving terrain of 71 Charos B—or Eyrus, as Xiva called it.
Xiva darted out faster than an old-fashioned bullet, that deep, throaty laugh of hers bounding on the wind as she danced across the sand. Without giving it a second thought, I charged after her.
"Race you!" I called, and the answering challenge in her eyes was all I needed.
We ran as hard and as fast as we could, in no particular direction, with no destination in sight. It wasn't a particularly fair race, considering we weren't racing toward anything.
But that wasn't the point, was it? The point was that Xiva needed to laugh, needed to let her hair down so she could feel free. I knew she'd been going crazy, being cooped up, and I knew she needed this.
I don’t know how long we ran like that, but at last we stopped, collapsing into the sand as we panted for air and laughed freely. She looked at me, crouched on her hands and knees, and her smile was worth everything else in the universe.
"Thank you," she said, still panting for air.
"Always," I said, though it was little more than a whisper.
I didn't know why I’d said that, why I would make such a statement. I wouldn't always be here to make her laugh; that wasn't the point of what I was doing. I was here to learn from her, nothing else.
"Are you guys done?" Walter's voice was far away, but I heard it all the same. I looked over my shoulder to see him in the distance, struggling to move as quickly as he could across the sand.
"We should go back to him," I said.
"Let him catch up."
I arched an eyebrow at her, surprised.
"I want to be far from the base," she said, a sour look on her face.
That, I could understand. The people at the base had not been kind to her from the moment she woke up in the med center. She'd been poked and prodded with needles, had her blood drawn, had been connected to all sorts of machines, been laughed out of the room when she spoke about her brother, and then treated like a traitor the moment she got back from the temple.
She had no reason to be fond of any of us. And yet, I knew she was. She was fierce in her desire to keep us safe, though I still doubted there was anything we needed to be kept safe from. I'd come to terms with the idea of magic being a part of the universe—that was a big leap for me, but I could accept facts when they were staring me in the face—but the idea of her having a brother with the power to decimate the entire base?
No, I didn't quite buy that. I had never met a man I couldn't defeat in battle, and I doubted her brother was as bad as she thought.
"What happened?" I asked, rolling over to sit in the sand.
She did the same. "Nothing."
"Don't ‘nothing’ me. You were tense when I came back to you. Something happened." I looked hard at her, but she wouldn't meet my eyes. Her chin was raised in that stubborn little tilt of hers, and I knew I wasn't going to get anything out of her.
"Is nothing. I will not speak of it," she said.
What could it be, that she would be so obtuse?
"Xiva," I said, softening my tone.
Her skin pulsed—something I was still trying to figure out. It happened frequently, I'd noticed, but I didn't know if it was because of the things I said, or if it was a regular thing. It was hard to understand when you didn't have a decent amount of data. If she spent more time with other people, I'd be able to tell if it happened around them as well. As it was, her contact with the others was very limited, so I couldn't really figure it out.
"She called me 'bitch’," she said, and as she spoke, she was playing idly with the sand, sending little sparks of her magic shooting through it.
I stiffened. "Who?"
"Is not important. Is the way they are all thinking of me. It…it is a lot," she said, grimacing. "But is not more than I can bear."
You shouldn't have to bear such insults.
The urge to find whoever had called her a bitch and beat the shit out of them was strong, dangerously so. It wasn't that I feared that I was going into rage, but it was a powerful instinct. I couldn't possibly ignore it; it took all of my energy to stay here with her rather than going on a wild manhunt to find that asshole and teach them a lesson.
I shouldn't feel so strongly about someone insulting her, but I did.
"Let us not think of it," she said. "We have but a few hours. I need to spend them well."
I sighed. "Yeah, all right. What did you want to do out here, anyway?"
"Hey, what are you guys talking about?" Walter broke in as he jogged up. As soon as he reached us, he plopped down on the sand, breathin
g heavily.
I couldn't help but chuckle. The little guy had long legs, but he wasn't used to the level of physical exertion Xiva and I could endure. She still surprised me with all she could do, though I supposed at this point, I should be used to it.
Xiva hopped to her feet, which made Walter groan.
"I just sat down."
"Stay," she said, laughing. God, that sound was so tempting. "I can train here. Is not too much."
I decided to stay seated as well, to enjoy the show. I didn't know what she meant by training, what she needed to do, but I was intrigued, to say the least.
She raised her hands in the air and began to chant, swaying her body back and forth. Slowly, her body began to glow beyond its natural blue hue, embraced in a golden wash that emanated from within her and contained her body at the same time. It spread out from her, reaching into the ground and the sky, reaching and reaching, on and on.
Then I heard the thunder.
No fucking way.
I looked up to see clouds gathering overhead. Not just any clouds, either, but actual, honest-to-god storm clouds. They were dark—but purple. Why were they purple?
Lightning snaked out of one of the clouds to strike the desert floor—a brilliant, vibrant red bolt that terrified me. Not that I was afraid of a little lightning, but I was damned sure afraid of a woman who could call it out of the sky.
She kept on chanting and swaying, and the clouds opened above us, pouring rain down on us.
Instantly, the temperature dropped from a sweltering level that threatened to choke the life out of us to a temperate calm. The rain was nice, though it matted my short hair down against my head.
But I wasn't thinking about any of that right now. I was just watching her. Watching the way her white hair plastered against her head, tendrils of it sticking to her face even as it whipped around her with the force of the wind. The cape she wore from the waist down curled around her legs, and her skin shone, practically sparkling when the lightning came out of the sky again, glinting off the water droplets that clung to her.
The reaction in my body was instantaneous. I felt myself harden to a painful degree, looking at this warrior goddess who could ride a storm like a tamed steed. How could I look at her and feel anything else?