Beyond Blue Frontiers

by Cecilia Randell

  “Pixie, don’t.” Forrest stood as well but didn’t join them, keeping an eye on the cubs.

  “No. Something’s happened. Mo’ran is downright grumpy, and he wasn’t like that before.” A sigh was his only answer, so she addressed T’ram again. “What is going on with you two? One minute you’re practically weeping at his feet and the next you’re staring after him like you want to tear off his limbs.” Okay, a slight exaggeration, but she wanted to get her point across.

  T’ram’s eyes widened, and then her expression closed again. “Is nothing.”

  Blue raised her brows, and the other woman looked away. Okay, new tactic. Laying her hand on the woman’s arm, she softened her tone. “Could there be something?”

  The woman remained silent, though she blinked rapidly a few times and swallowed.

  “Please tell me? He’s my friend. I’d like to help if I could.”

  That got a reaction. Letting out a sharp laugh, the woman glared at her. “You think easy? You come, already have man. Think take War Chief, maybe others is easy? Add others easy? Not. Never easy.”

  Blue swallowed. “Do you want Mo’ran?” It was a struggle, but she kept her voice low, gentle even.

  “No matter I want.”

  “I thought the woman was able to have more than one man? That is how your family units work, right? You chose?”

  She tilted her head and raised a brow. “They told that? Family choose. Woman choose first, yes. After, family choose. I have two priden already. They no want add Mo’ran.”

  The doubt-slug started up a dance in Blue’s stomach. “Why not?” The words were barely a whisper.

  “No matter. Mo’ran no fix. Priden no fix. Priden no want fix.” Her accent strengthened as her words broke down.

  Blue stared at her, trying to understand. “So, they don’t want Mo’ran to be part of the priden? But, what about your wishes? Do you—do you love him?”

  A small tired shrug. “I love family. If Mo’ran no…” she trailed off, struggling for words. “If Mo’ran no mend with Di’man and Fo’tan, can no be family, no prida. Stubborn.” The last word was said with such vehemence that Blue jerked back.

  Forrest stepped up beside Blue, holding the cubs. They’d woken up, and Vivi was now batting at one of the laces dangling from Forrest’s shirtfront. “There’s some sort of rivalry with the three of them?”

  “Yes. Is stupid. I tell. No Mo’ran fault. They no listen. Mo’ran no help. He be… grumpy.”

  Blue suppressed a grin at T’ram’s use of her word. “I could talk to him?”

  Another shrug. “No work. Can try.” Her gaze wandered to the fire. “Tired. Sleep now.” Then she spun and entered the tent.

  Unsure if the woman referred to herself or to Blue and Forrest, Blue followed. When T’ram veered off to another, larger section in the back of the tent and did not indicate they should follow, she and Forrest slipped into their allotted room.

  “So, that happened.” Blue dropped down onto the cot.

  Forrest sat beside her. “I don’t really know what to say. I mean, wow.”

  “Maybe we didn’t think this through so well.” Her nerves jumped and her mind raced with all the scenarios of what could go wrong. What T’ram had said made sense; of course the existing family would be consulted, would have a say. She and Forest had already discussed something similar, should she ever decide she wanted another man, but this was a real situation staring her in the face and an example of exactly how it could all blow up.

  Forrest pressed his shoulder into hers. “Hey, don’t talk like that. Where’s my Cheerful Bulldozer Pixie? Besides, ignore her. She’s obviously letting those, ummm, husbands of hers boss her around. I can’t see you ever letting that happen.”

  “I wouldn’t… You know I wouldn’t just—” She blew out a breath, frustrated that she couldn’t even get the words out.

  “I know that.” He shifted Vivi to one arm and placed his hand on her knee, palm up. “And I don’t have a problem with Mo’ata. Damn, at this point, I just want you any way I can have you.”

  And there it was, the perfect moment to break through this stupid wall she’d built up. She laced her fingers with his. “I want you too. I…”

  “You still need to talk to him first.” He squeezed her hand. “I know. Stop fretting.” He stood and pulled her to her feet, then tugged back the covers. “At least I get cuddles since there’s only one cot.”

  That wasn’t all she’d meant, but she let it go. Blue scrounged around until she found another blanket, smaller, and made a small nest for the cubs. After they were situated, she let Forrest climb into the cot, then settled beside him. “Think D’rama did that on purpose? The one cot?”

  “With a name like that, I think she did it all on purpose, including having us stay with a family that’s having issues you would be nosy about. She’s tricky.”

  She snuggled back into him as he wrapped an arm around her. “Yeah, she is.”

  Despite the warmth of the body behind her and the drowsy peacefulness of the cubs, Blue couldn’t sleep. Images and scenarios flooded her mind. Some, like the one where Mo’ata refused to include Forrest in a family unit, she didn’t really believe would come about. Others, like the one where Forrest tried to beat up Trevon before insisting on returning home, felt all too real. Stop it with the “what ifs,” Blue. You know what Phe would say.

  Then there was Phillip, still out there doing who knew what. Too many unfinished pieces of the story.

  She could practically hear Phe’s exasperated tones. She’d just have to woman up and make sure everyone got their happy ending.

  Chapter 4

  BLUE

  Blue took a sip of tea and grimaced. She quickly placed the mug on the table before her and tore off a small chunk of bread, hoping it would get the bitter taste out of her mouth.

  “Not what you are used to?” D’rama took a sip from her own mug, seemingly enjoying it.

  “No. It’s a bit bitter.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve always enjoyed it.”

  This was Blue’s third audience with the Mamanna, including the one on the first night. She’d spent the last two days learning about the clans, communing with Beast, and building up her “brave” for when Mo’ata got here. If he was still tracking Phillip, finishing that would take priority, but she hoped to get some sort of… not closure exactly, but at least an indication of his feelings, of what he wanted. She and Forrest could plan from there.

  One step at a time, Blue, one step at a time.

  She’d skirted around the topic until now, instead concentrating on tackling language, both Common and Tormani—the clan dialect—and helping T’ram with her day-to-day tasks. It was quite eye-opening. Yes, the woman ruled her family and the Mamanna the clan, but there was less freedom than Blue had assumed. If T’ram left the camp, she had to be accompanied by one of her priden. She issued orders and ran the home, but she could be overruled. They did assign tasks based on skill, not gender, but from what Blue observed, roles still fell very much into what she thought of as “traditional.”

  “Can I ask you about the prida?” The question came out hesitant, not something she was proud of.

  “Of course, child. I am surprised it has taken this long for you to bring it up.” D’rama took another sip of her tea.

  Garfield, cuddled on her lap, chose that moment to wake up and demand attention. Helping me delay? She scratched lightly behind his ear and tried to send soothing thoughts his way. Then she met D’rama’s eyes. “I’ve figured some of it out, but there’s so much that doesn’t make sense to me. I thought the woman was in charge? But with T’ram, she defers to her… priden so much. And then there’s the situation with Mo’ran. Also, how does someone even start. I mean…”

  D’rama sent her an exasperated look, the one a mother sent a child who was asking silly questions. Blue bristled; she didn’t think they were silly at all.

  “It is the shopa’s task to form her prida. It is her family.
She takes care of it, guides it, leads it. She does not dictate it.”

  “So… yeah, I still don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Blue felt like an idiot, but dammit, she was fairly new to all this romantical-ish stuff. It only made sense to ask questions, right?

  “You want to know how to go on with my son.”

  It wasn’t a question, but she answered, “Yes.”

  “I think yours will not be a traditional prida, but I will tell you how it is usually done. When a woman finds someone she feels will be a good First Priden to help her guide their ultimate family, she approaches him with a proposal. It is different for each couple, but will often include terms and a gift. After this, additional priden are first approached by the shopa. If they are agreeable, they meet with the full prida, and there is a… bota, a vote, among the family. It is to keep the… balance. The ransyi.” She tapped the table with impatient fingers, frustration thinning her lips. “I have never actually had to explain this to someone.”

  “I… think it makes sense. That’s kind of what T’ram said. I guess what I don’t understand is… is there no recourse if the prida votes no? Because Mo’ran is a good man. I just don’t see how they wouldn’t want him as part of their family.”

  “Ahh, I see. A shopa may leave her prida, may choose to form a new one with a new First Priden. I have only seen this happen twice in my life, though. It is a hard thing, having to choose like that. Most, though, make it work.” She glanced up, gaze roving over the tent’s draped cloth ceiling, as if looking for the words. “Each prida is different, the people that make it up. It is the people who will rely on you and who you will rely on. There must be trust and some affection between the members, or your home will be in constant conflict.

  “For Mo’ran and T’ram, there would be conflict. It is an old rivalry, but if Mo’ran cannot mend things with the existing priden, T’ram will not accept him, not fully. It would… break her prida. Trust is the key.”

  Garfield let out a small cry, echoing the part of Blue that ached for Mo’ran. It also twisted her own anxiety tighter. Dammit. “So, Mo’ran could fix this?”

  D’rama’s gaze was piercing. “The prida is formed for protection. Not just the physical protection of the members, but the spiritual protection as well. They care for each member and each person's happiness is important. So while the shopa, as the Heart of the Family, is usually catered to, she cannot ignore the needs of her priden. Mo’ran has a chance, but unfortunately, the burden of it falls on him to… clear the air? This makes sense to you?”

  Blue took a sip of her tea, stalling for time. It did make sense, almost too much. “So… a prida is like a marriage on steroids.”

  “Steriods?”

  “Ummm… like an uber-marriage.”

  D’rama tilted her head. “Uber, as in outstanding or supreme?”

  Yeah, this wasn’t going anywhere. “Basically,” Blue finally said.

  D’rama nodded. She took another sip of her tea and then set the mug down once more, this time her movements almost too precise. “Well, Blue, what shall you do when my son comes for you?”

  The question hit her like a… wrecking ball. Damn popular culture. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t think I’ll know until I see him again. It’s been a year since I’ve seen him. I know only a couple months have passed here, but for me it’s been much longer. Is my memory of the time we were together accurate? I felt sure he had feelings for me, or did I just build it all up in my mind?”

  “Will you go back? If things between you are not as you remember?” D’rama asked.

  Blue shook her head. “No, I’m not going back. Even if this doesn’t work out, I still want to learn about these worlds and the portals. I need to learn to control them, if for no other reason than not accidentally setting any off.” Blue grinned, “And, yes, the idea of exploring new worlds, discovering new things, is a big motivator.”

  “So like my boy, you are,” the Matriarch said with a chuckle, the air lightening between them. She poured her a cup of water and handed it over.

  Taking it with a smile, Blue figured it was a peace offering. They sipped their respective drinks, enjoying a companionable silence. She felt better for having gotten her concerns off her chest, even if nothing had actually been resolved.

  There was a commotion outside, hooves pounding and muffled shouts coming from the edge of the camp. A moment later the entry flap was flung aside, and a large man rushed in. Mo’ata.

  Blue cried out and leaped to her feet, clutching Garfield to her chest. She rushed into the arms held out for her. She’d said she didn’t know what she would do, but that had been a lie. She was going to hold onto this man, and she was going to fight for him. The doubts fled the moment they touched. She had a plan, and he was part of it.

  She stood there, lost in his closeness, his arms strong around her. She inhaled the scents of quorin and sweat, and below that was pine and herbs. She pushed against him harder, like she was trying to crawl inside his skin.

  “Shhhh, little shopa, shhhh.”

  He’d called her that almost from the beginning, she realized and pulled in a shaky breath.

  Mo’ata eased her back just far enough that he could wipe the tears from her cheeks. Then he gently cupped her cheek and studied her, eyes wide. “Are you really here?” he whispered. He stroked her hair, fingering the new length. “It’s longer.”

  “It’s still blue.” She couldn’t believe that was what came out of her mouth. This was the moment she’d been waiting for, and she was talking about her hair?

  Mo’ata chuckled. “It is. It’s perfect.”

  Blue shifted Garfield to one arm and wrapped the other around Mo’ata, snuggling into his chest. She didn’t even care that it was covered with stiff armor. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, enjoying the closeness, before a loudly-cleared throat sounded behind Mo’ata. Blue pulled away and peeked around him.

  They were all there. Levi and Felix, Forrest standing behind them, an expression on his face she couldn’t read. It wasn’t hurt or disapproving, simply… stiff.

  Mo’ata pulled her back into him, stroking her hair as if not willing to share her just yet. It took a while, but she didn’t mind. He was here and she was with him. Someone, probably Forrest, took the cub from her, and she was able to use both arms to hold this man close.

  It was one of those perfect moments.

  Eventually he pulled away and took her face into his hands, studying her. She knew what he saw. She’d changed—not much, but her face was a little more mature, a little less rounded and childish. Her hair was longer and her body was tougher, more streamlined.

  “It is really you.” His voice became wondering as he stroked her hair.

  She smiled. “Yes. It’s really me.”

  “How?”

  Blue gave him a big smile. “Well, Forrest and I got bored, so we decided to go on a little mini-adventure. We were hiking in this park near home when suddenly everything changed, all the trees were different, and the terrain. The air was definitely colder, too. It was a good thing we’d brought jackets with us. You know, just in case.”

  “Just in case,” Mo’ata echoed. “Of course.” He pulled Blue into him again and said low, just for her ears, “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “Pretty sure that’s not possible,” she whispered back.

  Then Forrest pushed through the other men and stood beside Blue, gazing intently at Mo’ata, two little bundles cradled like footballs in either arm. The stiffness was gone from his face, and in its place was a mixture of eagerness, wariness, and a sort of stubborn affection. He nudged Blue out of the way and stood before Mo’ata. “So.”

  “Yes.”

  He took in a deep breath and then grinned, the one that was all Forrest. “I know you said to keep an eye on her, but do you know how hard that is? That’s a job for a whole team. Plus, she was totally pining for you. I mean, deep sigh with longing looks kind of pining. So... we came back,” Forrest
finished, shrugging. Blue relaxed. She hadn’t been sure how that would go. She should never have doubted Forrest, though she had to suppress the urge to slap him for that “pining” comment.

  Another set of strong arms came around her from behind and picked her up, twirling her around, and a booming laugh filled the tent. That sneaky mercenary had come around behind them all, unnoticed despite his size.

  Blue slapped his forearm. Felix eased her down but didn’t let go. One of his hands moved, and she felt him touch her hair, his fingers sliding over the back of her head and down, petting her. She felt something deep in her belly, irritation and… desire?

  She slapped his hand again. “Stop. I am not a pet.”

  “It is longer.”

  She let out a strained laugh. Looks like everyone is fascinated with my hair today. “Yeah, it’s longer.” Her eyes widened, and she spun, making his fingers glide along her stomach. “Wait, that was English!”

  Felix grinned. “I learn.”

  She matched his smile but didn’t say anything, just looked up into his green eyes. Damn things practically sparkled.

  A throat cleared, and her attention moved to Levi, who still stood silently behind the others. She stepped away from Felix. “Hi.”

  The corner of his mouth curled up, and he gave her a small bow. The silence stretched out, and then she hit him with a flying tackle-hug, just as she had with Beast. Levi, her silent rescuer. She hadn’t realized until now how much she’d missed him, his presence. He stiffened in her arms, but then slowly, hesitantly, his own rose and closed around her. He squeezed tight and let go.

  She stepped away and looked around her. “So, catch us up.”

  “Okay. Now, catch me up. What’s going on with Phillip? That other guy? The last stone?” She held a small bladder for Garfield while Forrest sat beside her feeding Vivi.

  They were gathered in the dining tent at a table isolated from the others. D’rama had kicked them out of her tent with instructions to get cleaned up and eat. It had been entertaining, seeing those grown men scramble at a few words from her. New List item: Become as scary as the Mamanna.