by Ruby Dixon
“Now one of us will simply have to get close enough to get the leaves inside his belly.” He gestures at his pack, hanging off the lip of the ledge. “I am a fast runner. If I wear the pack—”
“No,” I tell him, and let my color ripple to match the rock at my feet. “I am the one with camouflage. I will be able to get far closer than you, my brother. I must be the one to do it.”
He looks at my camouflage, and then nods. “I do not like that it must be you.”
I chuckle. “I do not like it either, but it is wisest.” I touch his arm. “Promise me that if I do not make it back, you will watch over H’nah and my kit. See that they never lack for anything.”
T’shen nods. “It will be so.”
I get to my feet. “Should we leave in the morning? Or tonight, under the cover of darkness? Darkness will be better for me, but if the females need rest, we can wait.”
“It will be very cold tonight, but perhaps that will be in our favor.” His gaze rests on his sleeping mate. “I will make sure they both wear many layers to protect them from the cold.”
I nod down at him. “We will be ready at dusk.”
Now I must somehow go break the news to my mate.
“No,” H’nah cries, pacing the ledge. Her fists are balled at her side and she looks fierce despite the fact she wears nothing but the grass skirt I have made for her. “Absolutely fucking not, J’shel. I won’t let you!”
I knew she would not take this well, and I have mentally prepared myself all afternoon for such a response. As she slept, I quietly packed our things and put my leggings on, inside out, because the inside of the leather is such a pale color that it will almost match the snow outside. I put on my boots and test the snowshoes I have made for H’nah. I check my weapons over one more time.
And I gather chakk leaf. So much chakk leaf that the entire tribe would be drunk on it for days.
I knew H’nah would not be pleased. That is why I made everything ready before she woke. Now as she paces, I pack the last of the furs and set out her warm layers of clothing. “You will need to double up the fur on the inside of your boots tonight,” I tell her. “It will be very cold. Do you have your gloves?”
“Why aren’t you listening to me?” she bellows, storming over to my side. “J’shel, you absolutely cannot—”
I get to my feet and gently take her hands in mine before she can punch me. Not that her small fists would do much—but she might hurt herself. “H’nah,” I say gently. “We cannot stay here, my mate.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.” I touch her cheek gently. “I know you are scared, but do not plant your feet and be stubborn, H’nah. You know we need real food. You know the fruit will run out.”
She clenches my hands, her eyes wild as she gazes up at me. “But why does it have to be you, J’shel? Why not Taushen?” She shakes her head. “I’m going to go down there and talk to him—”
My brave, fierce H’nah. If I were not so tense, I might laugh at her bossy demeanor. “It must be me, H’nah. I told him so. I am the one with camouflage. I can get far closer than he can.”
H’nah bursts into tears. “No! You c-can’t leave me here alone,” she sobs. “What if you g-get k-killed?”
I kneel before her and press my mouth to her knuckles. I hate the sight of her weeping. It tears at me. “If I die, then your way back to your home is clear, is it not? You can see your book and your movie.”
She jerks her hands out of mine, horrified. “You know I don’t want that shit anymore. I want you!”
“I want you, too, H’nah. And that is why I must do this. I must be your hero. Yours, and our kit’s.”
“I am so fucking mad at you,” she sobs, tears sliding down her cheeks.
“Be mad when I return,” I tell her. “For now, I would like to hold you until it is time to go.”
“You’re such an asshole,” she weeps, even as she jerks her hands out of mine and puts her fingers on my belt. She tears at it, fumbling at the leather, and her haste makes my cock hard. “I’m going to fuck you so hard right now that you’re going to come back, because you’re going to need some more of this.”
My fierce, determined female. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” she snarls at me. Her hand slides into the front of my pants and the breath hisses from between her teeth as she finds me hard and ready. “You’re my man, and you’re not leaving me here alone, not now, not ever. You understand? So if you want a lifetime of hot, nasty sex, you make sure you come back alive. You got me?”
“I got you.” I rip her grass skirt off and pull her forward. “I got you, H’nah.”
“No more talking,” she says, and neither of us says a thing for a very long time.
A short time later, our things are packed, H’nah is dressed in her thick layers, and she stands next to B’rukh and T’shen with a miserable expression on her lovely face. I know she hates this. I know she wants to be angry and scream and stomp her feet as if that will change things. She knows I am right, though. Even now, I put my cloak on and let my color ripple to match it, as if I must show off for my H’nah, reassure her that I will do my best not to get killed.
T’shen holds out the pack to me. It is stuffed to overflowing with chakk leaf. I throw it over my shoulder, then take my spear in another hand. I have my boots on, and my pants. Once I get out into the valley, I must discard my cloak and approach in nothing but my camouflage, and move slowly so that Old Grandfather does not see me and pounce.
I want to touch H’nah, to reassure her that all will be well…but I do not know if it will be. All I know is that she must leave this place, one way or another. It is too comfortable here, and I do not want to wake up one day to find that we are too tired and weak to make the journey home. We must leave, and it must be now.
“I will go out as soon as it is dark,” I tell them, going over the plan one more time. “It will take some time to climb up to where Old Grandfather is roosting, so do not go out until the moons are high in the skies. Understand?”
H’nah fidgets. At her side, B’rukh looks grimly determined, and T’shen just nods, his spear clenched in hand despite the fact they are not leaving for some time. I know he will protect my mate, as I would his.
“Should I create a distraction?” T’shen asks. “I can go into the valley with a torch, try to draw it out toward me so you can climb without fear.”
His mate gives him a terrified look. “What?”
I shake my head. “It is a good idea, but you will be needed to get the females away, T’shen. I have been thinking about this,” I say slowly, reluctant to reveal this part of my plan because H’nah is sure to scream with anger. “I have been harvesting my own leaves.” I pick up the pack I have hidden behind vines, and demonstrate it. “I will wear this, so even if I fail and he devours me, he will still be drugged.”
No one says anything.
I look over at H’nah. She clenches her jaw and glares at me, but her eyes are deceptively shiny and I know she is upset.
“Either way, you must leave this valley when the moons are high,” I say. “Tell the others of Old Grandfather, and tell them to avoid this place. We must skirt wide until he is eliminated, or it will be very dangerous.”
T’shen nods. “We will be careful.”
I take my cloak off and put my second pack on, strapping it around my waist so it does not move. H’nah’s arms are crossed and she says nothing, simply watching me. I move to her side and put my cloak over her shoulders, touching her short, bouncy braids. She is beautiful, my mate, and this time with her is the happiest I have ever been. I smile at her and then take my spear in hand once more. My grip is slippery, and my skin prickles as doubt rises in my gut.
I was not able to save N’dek because my aim was not true. Tonight, I must think first, act second. My H’nah and my kit depend on it. I cannot fail them.
“That’s it?” H’nah says behind me, her words choked. “I don’t get a kiss goodbye?”<
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I turn to my mate.
She steps forward, hurt on her face underneath the attitude.
I touch her chin, tracing a finger along her jaw. So soft, my H’nah. So lovely. “You do not get a kiss goodbye because this is not goodbye,” I tell her, and hope I am not lying.
“Then let’s do a kiss for luck,” she says. “I don’t care what we call it, all right? Just kiss me already.”
I cup the back of her neck and ease my body down toward hers. Before our mouths can meet, she grabs my braid and yanks on it, tugging me down roughly against her and pushing her lips to mine with such fierce enthusiasm that my body responds. I clench my fingers in her mane, savaging her mouth with mine as I give her a hard, fierce kiss that tells her exactly how I feel about her. How much she has my heart. How much I want to be at her side for the rest of our days. My tongue slicks against hers with sure, possessive strokes, and when I finally break the kiss, she staggers, her eyes dazed, her mouth pink and swollen from my lips.
“Be careful,” she whispers. “You didn’t fail N’dek, and you won’t fail me.”
My heart aches. She knows just what to say. I touch her jaw one more time, ready myself, and then head out of the cave and into the icy night.
21
J’SHEL
Once I go outside, I am surprisingly calm. I thought I would be nervous, the anxious, crawling feeling of anticipation under my skin. I thought that the cold would bite at me, and that terror would gnaw at my belly.
But I am at peace.
My H’nah will be safe. I will protect her. The cold bites, but it is not so bad. My grip on my spear is firm, and I am unafraid. Whatever happens this night, I will save my H’nah. Nothing else matters.
I gaze out at the valley, surveying it. The night is calm, the weather clear and cold. The stars are just now coming out, the skies a deep, dark blue. I remember entering this valley many days ago and the snow was a pristine blanket over the ground, smooth and unblemished.
Old Grandfather has changed things since he arrived.
Dead dvisti and other creatures litter the ground. Some are half-buried in old snow, and some carcasses are fresh and glitter with newly frozen blood. All are mangled. Bones and broken legs stick up from the icy waste, and the pale ground is mottled with dark stains. The too-sweet smell of old dead things hangs in the air.
I must avoid all of that so my camouflage does not ripple as I move and draw attention to myself. The smartest thing will be to follow the walls of the valley, to cling to the rocks, but it will mean moving slower and taking a longer way around.
So be it.
I move down the icy ledge to the ground, and inwardly wince when my boots crunch on the snow. I miss the days of moving through the trees, when I knew where to hold a branch to ensure that the leaves did not rustle. My feet feel clumsy in comparison to my arms, but I must manage anyhow. I step slower, breathing through my mouth so I do not take in the stink of the dead things in the valley. I place one foot, then another, and then another.
A loud, angry cry echoes in the canyon from Old Grandfather, and then I see him.
Even though he terrifies me, the ancient sky-claw is magnificent. I have never seen a creature as great in size as him. Even the biggest of kaari are no match for this winged hunter. I stare up at the glaring blue eyes that survey the valley, the wings tucked tight against the long, body, thick with muscle. Its long, slender legs are hidden underneath tufts of brown fur, but I know they are tipped with talons and can rip open a hunter’s gut before he realizes he is injured. I know that the long, beaky mouth looks like a blade in the darkness, but it is filled with rows of hard, sharp teeth with serrated edges.
And I know Old Grandfather will eat my mate without a thought, so I cannot let him do so.
I creep toward the distant cliff that he roosts upon, and every step feels dangerous. My camouflage hides me against the snow, but if he looks for movement, he might see me anyhow. I take each step slowly, carefully, only moving when that terrible head swings in the other direction. In a way, I am glad there is so much slaughter and gore in the valley—the stink of the dead will hide my smell.
It seems impossible, but time passes and then I am below Old Grandfather’s perch, my body pressed to the rock wall below. He has not seen me, his gaze scanning the remains of his meals below. Now, I can climb toward him. Old Grandfather is a creature of habit—he comes to the same perch every day and looms over the valley, and I have crept out while H’nah slept and studied these rocks from afar, trying to determine the best handholds. I thought it would be difficult to climb, that my hands would be sweaty and the cliffs would be covered in ice, but the rock is jagged and easy to clasp, and I pull myself up the cliffs quickly. I land on a ledge a short distance below Old Grandfather’s perch, and the smell of dead things grows worse here. Old Grandfather stinks of decay, and my throat works, trying to keep my last meal of fruit down.
I hate this sky-claw. I know he is just an animal, but I hate that he will take me from H’nah. I hate that he threatens my mate. I hate that he could destroy everything.
Someday a hunter will kill you, I tell the creature. And I hope I am there to stick a spear into you myself.
My foot slips on the narrow rock ledge, sending a pebble tumbling downward. I freeze in place as Old Grandfather’s head swings in my direction. For a moment, I panic. I do not breathe, do not twitch, do not move. His cruel eyes scan the cliffs, and I think he will see me perched on the ledge and attack.
But then his gaze continues onward. He ruffles his wings against his body and then settles down on his ledge once more.
I let out a slow, quiet breath. All night long, I have been thinking of ways to ensure that I do not fail my H’nah. The easiest way, of course, would be for Old Grandfather to eat me and digest the leaves I carry on my back. That thought has been in my head all day, and I know it would ensure that I succeed. It is the easiest plan. What is simpler than flinging myself at a creature and letting its hunger do the rest? I could hurl myself off this cliff right now and end it all.
That is the last thing I want, though.
I want H’nah to be safe. More than anything, she is what matters. But I am selfish. I want to return to the camp with her and share a hut together. I want long nights under the furs, touching and tasting each other. I want to watch her belly round out with my kit. I want to see her smile, the indention in her cheek that flashes when she is truly amused, the soft look in her eyes when I put my mouth between her thighs. I want more nights of the little noises she makes while she sleeps, or her bossiness when she is awake.
I want a lifetime with my H’nah.
So I must go slow and do this right, so I can return to her.
I reach for a higher ledge, climbing. There is little room to throw while I am pressed against the wall, so my goal is to climb to the top, somehow distract Old Grandfather into snapping up the pack, and then jump back down onto one of the ledges and cling to the wall, using my camouflage to hide until the chakk leaf takes hold on him. I choose each handhold carefully, freezing in place when the great creature’s head turns in my direction, and remaining still until he looks away.
I am almost to the top when everything goes wrong.
My hand touches something soft and slippery. A bit of gristle fallen from Old Grandfather’s beak, perhaps. I lose my grip and then the world tilts, sliding away from me. I skid down several lengths, struggling to find something to hold onto. My searching fingers hook onto a bush and I’m able to stop from falling, even as the roots tear free from their mooring. With no time to think, I see a rocky lip on the cliff, directly below Old Grandfather, and fling myself toward it.
I land next to a boulder, rolling on my back, and then go perfectly still.
The pack I had slung over one arm thumps to the ground far below.
Old Grandfather cries out in rage, his wings spreading wide. The death-stink of him is everywhere. His eyes are full of rage as he glares down at me, and I know he
sees me…but he does not attack. I wait for death to claim me, for the terrible creature to swoop down and gobble me up in a single gulp.
H’nah, I think. I am so sorry, my heart. I failed you.
But Old Grandfather cries out again. He leans in, his beak snapping, but he does not kill me.
I…do not understand.
Slowly, I sit up, letting my camouflage blend to my new surrounding. I am scratched up and bruised from my fall, but I am whole. My spear is gone, and so is the pack of chakk leaves I carried. The pack strapped to my back is still there, and I carefully untie the laces that hold it against my body even as Old Grandfather glares balefully down at me. He flutters his wings again, yet does not attack me. Curious, I glance around at my surroundings.
I am…in a nest.
It is a disgusting nest. All around me are the bloated, half-eaten corpses of slaughtered dvisti and the felines called snow-cats. The walls of the nest seem to be made from their bodies, from bones and bits of fur and whatever else the sky-claw brought from its mouth. In the center of this, right next to me is not a boulder as I thought, but a mottled egg.
Old Grandfather is a mother.
No wonder he will not leave. He…no, she is nesting. That is why she will not abandon this valley.
I stare at the egg in a mixture of wonder and horror. Instinct tells me to roll it out of the nest, to give the world one less sky-claw. I glance up at Old Grandfather again, and the creature leans down, snapping her monstrous beak at me. She rears back before she can reach me, though, and I realize the snapping is a threat more than a real danger. She is afraid of hurting her egg. She will not touch me while I am next to it.
When she snaps at me again, I duck down behind the egg once more. A quick glance over the ledge shows me that I am halfway to the ground here. I could drop to the snow and if I manage to roll my weight properly, the fall will not break anything.