Mutual Trust

by Lea Linnett

  It became familiar, the way they each danced around the things they wanted hidden. For Bree, her secrets were obvious, and she didn’t bother to hide that she was keeping them. Marek’s were more subtle, but the more they talked, the more she found gaps in his stories. He avoided talking about Urek, especially after she learned that they were brothers, and when she asked again why they looked so different, he dodged and said, “It is complicated.”

  Bree itched to ask more but didn’t. So far, Marek had respected her secrets. She could do the same for him.

  Before she knew it, a week had flown by since she’d landed in the mine, and she was still no closer to finding a way out of here, or getting any more information on her mom.

  She was also no closer to figuring out how to operate the strange black box in her bathroom that she thought was a shower. Every time she activated it, it spit chemicals at her instead of water, and although she’d gotten by using the sink for sponge baths, it was beginning to no longer feel like enough.

  It didn’t help that Peris’ nostrils flared every time she opened the door to Bree’s room, and today was no exception. She held fast as the levekk sneered down at her, ordering her from the room with the usual jerk of her head.

  Bree braced herself for yet another torturous walk to the observation room with Peris nipping at her heels, but a familiar voice stopped them.

  “Leira!”

  She whipped around, her heart skipping at the sight of Marek as he approached. He carried with him a long, slender box that she’d never seen before, although it looked similar to the one sitting by her bed with her ruined bow inside.

  “Bree,” he said in greeting, his blue-violet eyes catching on her own in that intense way that made her shiver. He then turned to Peris, pinning her with a glare as the female brandished her claws angrily.

  “Salak liiri sehr ka?” Peris snapped.

  “Misalak marna sureira. Perda, yumin ikara yassira.”

  “Tihira mehr ka? Kikkehr ka?”

  The female made a grab for the box Marek carried, and he snatched it away from her.

  “Mikaranesk tak,” he said, and Peris growled.

  Bree couldn’t follow the heated argument that ensued then, and she didn’t bother to try, but she did flinch when the female finally snarled in frustration, grabbing Bree by the arm.

  Then, to her horror, the levekk leaned in, her small nostrils flaring as she inhaled sharply. “Sikehni yumin,” she spat, and shoved Bree away with a growl.

  Marek caught her around the waist and pulled her out of the way as Peris stormed past. His arm was strong and stable even through the thick fur of her coat, and his rough, scaled brow furrowed as he looked down at her.

  “You are all right?”

  Bree froze. Those blue-violet eyes suddenly seemed far too close now, the levekk’s chest rising and falling just inches away from her own.

  She straightened with a small yelp, gulping in the lungful of air that had caught in her chest. “I’m fine.”

  “Peris did not hurt you?”

  “No!” she said as she smoothed down the ruffled texture of her coat with her hands. “Just… wounded my pride a little.”

  The levekk frowned, his lips parting in what could only be a lie to make her feel better, but Bree raised a hand. “It doesn’t take a genius to know what she meant. Even with the language barrier. God, I miss having a bath,” she said, breathing out a wistful sigh. “At this point, I’d even take the freezing bathwater in the Barracks over another sponge bath.”

  Although he still looked uncomfortable at the topic of conversation, Marek cocked his head curiously. “What is this bath?”

  “All that study, and you don’t know what a bath is?” Bree couldn’t help but ask, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “It’s a tub full of hot water that you use to clean yourself. I’m guessing levekk don’t have anything like that.”

  Marek shook his head, and Bree deflated. “Figures.”

  “…You have struggled with the chemical shower?” he asked after a moment, shifting the box he carried under his arm.

  Chemical shower. Bree’s heart sank at those two words. “Yeah. Every time I try to use it, it… stings.”

  “This is an unfortunate side effect for humans,” he said, his lips thinning. He hesitated a little, and then added, “The trick is to clean quickly, and to wipe the residue away with a towel as soon as you are done. It will help.”

  “How do you know?”

  “…My research.”

  Somehow, that explanation wasn’t very convincing, but he turned away before she could ask about it.

  “Come with me,” he murmured, starting down the hall, and Bree was so used to being pushed around by Peris that it took her a second to follow him.

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to go anywhere,” she said, and the levekk shrugged.

  “I told Peris that I had gained Urek’s permission.”

  “He changed his mind?”

  “No. I lied.”

  Bree’s eyes widened in surprise. “I-is that okay?”

  “Today, I do not care,” Marek said, throwing a smile over his shoulder at her. “I wish to show you the gym.”

  He said the word easily, as if she should know it, but it felt strange on her tongue when she asked, “What’s a gym?”

  Now, it was Marek’s turn to be surprised. “You do not know this word? I thought you would. It is from your language.”

  “Well, whatever it is, we don’t use it anymore.”

  He nodded as she fell into step beside him. “It is a place where one trains their body,” he explained, glancing down at her. “It has machines and equipment to aid in this.”

  “Machines? How can a machine help you exercise?”

  His hand found its place at her elbow as he guided her around a bend, and Bree shivered, hypersensitive to the touch. “Some make the ground move beneath you, so you can run without traveling anywhere. Others simulate great weights, building muscle. Some simply… vibrate. You will also be able to clean yourself there.”

  That mystified Bree even more, but she let it go. She’d have to find out when she got there. Not all of her curiosity was satisfied, however, and she turned her gaze to the box still clamped under Marek’s arm. “What about this?” she asked, nudging it.

  Marek’s placid smile turned mischievous. “This is a surprise.”

  “A surprise? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I know you understand this word,” he said, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Do not pretend otherwise.”

  Bree blinked in disbelief. “You’re really not gonna tell me?”

  “Correct. This is how surprises work, yes?”

  “Would you believe me if I said no?” she asked, and Marek rolled his eyes.

  “Be patient,” he purred. “You will enjoy this surprise.”

  Another of those shivers ran up her spine at his words, her cheeks reddening, and she scoffed to cover it. “I once stalked a deer over two miles of dense forest. I know how to be patient.”

  “Then prove it, toshaan.”

  He sped off, his long, muscular legs taking him down the hall at a fast pace before Bree could ask what that meant. He didn’t look back to check whether she was following; he just trusted that she would, and in the back of her mind, she counted that as a win. It didn’t matter that her pulse was racing and her chest felt light.

  This was all just a part of the plan, right?

  10

  Using the chemical shower was worse than Bree had even imagined. The spray was hot and stinging, and it tingled on her skin for a few moments after she pulled her experimental arm from the cubicle. When she put her whole body inside, the tingling spread everywhere, and she scrubbed at lightning speed, eager to get out.

  Surprisingly, the towel helped. It couldn’t save her hair, which the chemicals had clumped together, but it got most of the stuff off her skin. She breathed a sigh of relief, wetting the towel under the sink so she could rub
over the more private parts of her that she wasn’t game to let the chemicals touch.

  The bathroom Marek had taken her to was large and echo-y, the black walls polished to a mirror-shine that only made it seem all the more cavernous. Her leathers were gone, replaced by a roll of fabric that Marek had given to her with the promise that her clothes would be cleaned and returned to her room, rather than disposed of.

  She picked up the fabric hesitantly, and found it smooth to the touch. It was also impossibly thin compared to her thick hides, and when she unrolled it, she discovered it was all one piece, much like the bodysuits that Marek and the others wore.

  Getting into it was its own challenge. Not because it didn’t fit. In fact, it almost fit too well, as if the fabric had molded to her body. It clung like a second skin, the shiny black material accentuating every curve and cupping her in all the right places. It wasn’t revealing—stiff panels held her breasts down in a way that was comfortable and her skin was covered— but her legs somehow looked longer, her body more compact and fit when she glanced at her reflection in the mirrored walls.

  She’d never seen herself like this. Clothed in black, her skin pink from the chemical shower and her hair loose. The girl in the mirror could have come from another world entirely, and without her leathers, she looked much like the humans she’d spotted going about their business in the mine.

  But that didn’t mean she was like them, she told herself as she slipped on the rubber-soled shoes that Marek had left her. She was still Bree, the best hunter in the Barracks.

  Steeling herself, she exited the bathroom to find Marek waiting with his back turned.

  “The chem-shower was acceptable?” he asked over his shoulder, but when he turned to face her, he froze.

  It was the same intense gaze she was used to seeing from him, but this time his cat-like pupils dilated as he looked her up and down. He studied her, his gaze tracking every dip and curve of the suit over her body while his lips gently parted, and Bree didn’t have to be levekk to recognize the look in his eye.

  It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her that way. Once, she’d been a horny cadet just like everyone else, and she’d enjoyed the appreciative gazes of fellow soldiers in the Barracks. But for the last few years, her nights had been long and lonely, spent in the tops of trees and in shallow caves.

  To her alarm, Marek’s gaze sent a thrill through her body, her gut tightening.

  Then, his head snapped away as if he’d been slapped, and the spell was broken. “I am sorry,” he grunted. “Your skin reddens again. I will adjust the climate for you.”

  “That’s not…” but he was already moving toward the panel in the wall. Bree touched her face, finding that her skin was hot enough to sear her palm, and yet, she wasn’t embarrassed. “The shower was fine,” she said, clearing her throat. “Thank you for the tip about using a towel.”

  “It is nothing,” Marek said, his voice rougher than usual as he muttered a command into the wall panel. The atmosphere shifted, the walls flaring blue, and Bree shivered, but not from the sudden change in temperature. “I should have asked someone to explain it before now. I did not think.”

  “It’s fine.” She smiled as he met her eye, her heart thundering in her throat. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the atmosphere buzzing between them like a forcefield, until Bree turned away. “So, this is the gym?”

  The room was large, with a high ceiling that made it seem even larger. Machines littered the floor, rising up like tree trunks in a forest, their mechanical arms and strange appendages like limbs and branches. There were so many that it might have been possible to hide herself among them, but the glinting metal and metallic scent in the air hardly made her feel safe. Mirrors lined the walls, reflecting her image back at her and causing phantom movements out of the corner of her eye.

  “These machines look so complex,” she murmured, and Marek cleared his throat.

  “They are strange to you?”

  “Strange is one word for it.” Bree frowned up at the nearest machine. It reminded her of the wicked-looking instruments that had littered the room when she woke up in this place, except far larger. “Why did you bring me here, anyway? Is this some kind of experiment?”

  “No,” Marek said. “I do not intend to test you. I… have a gift for you.”

  “A gift?” She turned to find him holding the black box again. “The surprise?”

  He nodded, laying it upon a low bench and unclipping its fastenings. Inside were two lengths of metal, matte black in color, alongside a string so thin that her first instinct was to use it as a…

  Her eyes widened in realization. “Is that…?”

  Marek smiled as he took the pieces from the box and connected them together, the material snapping into place as if guided by magnets. They formed a familiar shape, and Bree’s heart throbbed loudly in her ears when Marek slipped the waxy string over each end. He tested it once to ensure it was taut, and then held it out to her.

  “Is that a bow?!” she asked incredulously, all but snatching the object from his hands. The metal curved smoothly, the pointed ends doubling back on themselves just slightly in the style that she liked, and when she held it up in her left hand, she found it to be the perfect weight—heavy enough to balance on her hand whilst light enough to hold comfortably. It was also strong, despite having been built from separate pieces, bending fluidly when she pulled back on the string.

  She eased the string back into place, careful not to let it go just yet, and stared at Marek with wide eyes. “Where did you get this?”

  “I asked one of the pindar engineers to form it for me. He used your bow as a guide,” he explained, and though his eyes danced, there was something vulnerable about his expression. “You like it?”

  “Like it? It feels just like my old bow.” Maybe even better, she thought to herself, before feeling guilty. Nothing could be better than her old bow. “But how can you give me this? It’s a weapon.”

  Marek bit his lip. “You cannot keep it,” he admitted. “But you can use it while I supervise you. I thought it might… ease your boredom.”

  Bree’s stomach flipped, her heart skipping, and Marek gestured for her to follow him deeper into the gym. He showed her to a long, walled-off alley in the corner with a target set up at the end of it. The target was round, filled with concentric circles in different colors, and it looked so like the targets back in her village that it made a lump form in her throat.

  “I researched, and had these made for you, also,” he murmured, handing her a small, stiff quiver with six arrows sticking out of it.

  “I…” Bree took it, her breath held tight in her lungs as she placed the quiver on the ground and pulled out an arrow. It was made of the same black metal as the bow, but instead of feathers, it had tiny, synthetic hairs running along the shaft. She stared up at Marek with wide eyes. “What if I shot you?”

  That surprised a laugh from the levekk. “I ask that you do not,” he said, running his thumb along the fletch of one arrow. “If you do, the door is locked. You will not get far.”

  “Of course.” Those words would have angered her only a week or so ago, but now, with a small smile still crossing Marek’s features and a warmth that had nothing to do with the climate controls suffusing the air between them, they didn’t bother her. “That would be a pretty poor way of saying thank you, anyway.”

  Marek’s brow rose, his gaze cutting away. “It is nothing.”

  “Can I try it?” she asked next, unable to quell the growing excitement in her chest.

  “Of course.”

  Marek stepped back, and she took her position with one foot on the line, placing her arrows on the floor beside her. Her hands shaking slightly, she nocked an arrow and drew back the bowstring. Then, with a deep, calming breath, she let go.

  Thock!

  Just left of center. Blowing out the breath she’d held, she repeated the actions and loosed another arrow.

  Thock!


  Dead on.

  Her body settled into a familiar rhythm as she cycled through her arrows, letting them fly one after the other like a well-oiled machine. She was used to this. This was when her mind felt the clearest. When she was done, she peered at the target, smiling when she found her arrows grouping neatly around the golden center.

  “You are skilled,” said Marek, making her jump. She’d almost forgotten he was there.

  “I’ve had a lot of practice. And my targets are usually moving, so…”

  He smiled. “Do not be humble. It is impressive.”

  “Thanks,” she said, before hurrying down the alley to collect her arrows. She’d left the bow sitting on the floor, and when she returned, she found Marek holding it as she had, gently testing the string.

  “It is a peculiar weapon.”

  “But effective. And it’s pretty simple, really. Just physics,” she couldn’t help but add, watching him curiously. His arms were bare today, and his golden scales contrasted nicely against the black bow. She noticed now that the scales didn’t completely cover him. Instead, they ran along his forearms and biceps—which were rather thick and muscular for a scientist, she thought—and faded back into golden skin around the insides of his elbows.

  “Would you like to try it?” she asked, shaking her head at herself.

  Marek’s eyes flashed with interest. “I would.”

  “Great.” She slid the arrows back into their quiver. “Come and stand here, one foot either side of the line.”

  He did so, holding the bow up experimentally in one fist. It was too small for him, probably, since it had been made from the dimensions of her old bow, but it should do the trick. “Okay, so see how you’re clenching your fist? Don’t do that. You want to balance the grip between your thumb and forefinger, and keep the rest of your fingers out of the way as much as possible.”

  “It sways,” Marek said skeptically when he followed her directions.