Chapter 32 #4
“Oh, no,” Quvi gasped softly. “I didn't think to warn you that those loosen muscles.”
“They do?” Peony frowned at the empty skin, shocked. It wasn’t alcoholic after all. It was muscle relaxer juice. And a strong one at that.
“Just a little. You must have no tolerance at all if even that little drink is making you so uncoordinated. I'll go get our driver. He can carry you back to the hover.”
Peony glared at her back. She was tempted to point out that she didn't realize Quvi was so weak she needed someone else to help her with the small human, but since she didn't want to drape herself over Quvi, she let her claim the point in that exchange.
“Do you want to sit down, Peony?” Temnavi asked, a hand on her arm as though he might try to keep her up despite only coming to her waist.
She smiled, tossing the skin into a nearby composting receptacle. “I'd like that. Can you lead me?”
“Sure!” He beamed at the responsibility before putting an arm around her thighs, just under her butt, the highest he could reach, and walked her forward with such a serious expression.
“You're so adorable,” Peony purred, unable to censor herself, rubbing his hair playfully.
He cried out in dismay, covering his hair with his other hand.
Her eyes had widened, and she wondered just how close to drunk she was because it looked like his hair had changed colors.
Temnavi's skin was currently a pretty orange shade thanks to the light around them, but when she ruffled his hair, the strands had all cycled through a bunch of colors.
“You messed up my camouflage!” He said, clearly embarrassed.
“I'm sorry, sweetie,” she said, doing her best, and absolutely failing, to sound contrite. Atem's hair and skin didn't change if she mussed them, which meant either Temnavi couldn't control his camouflage or younglings in general had issues keeping it in place.
Either way, it was adorable, and her sudden lack of inhibitions couldn't stop from doing it again.
“No!” He moaned unhappily as he helped her sit onto a bench that looked like it had formed from roots that were forced into the correct shape. The moment he let her go, he started rearranging the wild locks, his face screwed up in concentration to get his camouflage back.
The colors turned pink, then yellow, then a darker orange. He sighed, giving up, slumping forward.
“It's going to take over a mark to go back!”
“I'm sorry,” Peony said again, barely restraining herself from running her fingers through his hair again. “I didn't know it would change like that.”
“You won't tell anyone, will you!?” He gasped, covering his head with both hands. “If the others learned my camouflage is still unstable, they'll make fun of me! They'll call me a pup!”
Peony smiled, leaning forward to whisper. “Your secret is safe with me. Cross my heart.”
Temnavi watched her perform the motion with a curious expression. “Cross your heart?”
“It means a promise among humans.”
Temnavi chuckled. “That’s strange, but okay. Do you want some water? That might help you feel better. Atem asks for water if he accidentally drinks too much intak.”
“Is that the alcohol in that drink?”
“Alcohol?” He repeated the word that Peony realized came out in English. “I don't know what that means. Intak is something adults drink to feel relaxed. I don't get it. Atem says I can't have any until my hormones change because it's bad for children.”
“That's close enough to alcohol where I'm from.” Peony smiled, leaning back. “I'd love some water.”
He beamed, making a sound of understanding, then turned to jog into the market, leaving her there.
Peony sighed, content, as she leaned back on her hands on the bench. She wasn't worried about being alone. So far, the only domini she had met were either eager to speak to her, eager to show off for her, or accidentally got her drunk by being eager to share with her.
If what she drank wasn't alcohol, then it would make sense that she hadn't tasted it.
It was much closer to a muscle relaxer. She already wanted to fall asleep, which wasn't how alcohol usually affected her, but the slightly dizzy clumsiness was typical.
As was her total drop in inhibitions. She hadn't meant to call Temnavi adorable.
The little warrior definitely didn't appreciate that, no matter how true it was, but she couldn't stop herself.
Her eyes drifted closed. She was so sleepy content to just relax back on the bench as she waited for him to return.
This was such a peaceful, wonderful place. A warrior culture that believed fully in fighting only for noble causes and never to cause undue harm.
She felt safe. Even intoxicated on an unfamiliar substance, alone, in the middle of public. She wasn't scared of someone hurting her or taking advantage of her.
But in an instant, like the shattering of glass, that sense of safety broke.
Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up, unease rippling over her limbs.
Something was wrong.
But nothing had changed. She was bathed in bright light, now faded into a pale green. Domini, smiling and chatting, were walking around in front of her. She was slightly separate from them, but only by a few steps. She wasn't that far away from the others and none of them looked disturbed.
So why did she suddenly want to run? Her heart was pounding. Her hands shaking.
Was this a side effect of intak? Did it effect humans differently?
She suddenly felt much more sober, though. Like the burst of adrenaline had burned whatever was in that drink straight from her bloodstream.
The crowd parted a bit and she spotted Temnavi approaching the stand of a drink seller – a series of what appeared to be stacks of conical kegs behind him.
The young boy said something, gesturing in Peony's direction.
The seller made a gesture of understanding and grabbed a clay cup then turned to fill it.
They didn't have paper or plastic waste here, but it was expected that she return the cup.
While he waited, Temnavi turned, beamed, and waved at her.
She weakly lifted a hand.
She was near panting when he looked away and her hand dropped back to her lap. She didn't care about the water. She just had to get away from here. Only not knowing what she might be in danger of kept her butt planted to the bench.
She drew in a deep breath through her nose in an attempt to calm herself.
And understood in an instant why she was panicking.
That scent. That slightly musky, reptilian scent, that could have been a cross between swamp water and summer air, made her skin break into gooseflesh.
She would know that scent anywhere. It had been tainted with metal and oil before.
It was mixed with fresh forest and the lively scent of the market now, but she still knew it perfectly.
There was a ratchi somewhere nearby.
That realization froze all her muscles like a deer in headlights. She couldn't even breathe. Only her eyes moved as her gaze darted around, trying to find the source.
It didn't occur to her until she heard the soft scratching of claws on wood that the bench she sat on was right beside the edge of the market platform.
She screamed at her legs to run in her mind, but they refused to move. Her mouth gaped, unable to breathe, as her guts twisted together.
The crowd parted and Temnavi appeared again. He had the clay cup in his hand and was walking her way, smiling without a single concern.
No! Run!
She wanted to order him away, but she was trapped inside her own racing mind.
The scent was heavier. The scratching had stopped. But there was a new heat at her back.
Something hard and cold pressed against the small of her back, right over her spine. A sibilant voice started to hiss in her ear-
“Come quietly, female, or-”
The rest of his voice was drowned out by her reflexive, terrified scream. He wasn't prepared for her immediate and loud reaction. He jerked back. The loss of the weapon – and she had no doubt it was a weapon – finally broke her mind from freeze mode.
She jumped up and tried to run.
But didn't get more than a step before the unseen alien grabbed her arm. The familiar, awful, scraping of his claws against her bicep made her scream again.
That didn't deter him. Even as the crowd stopped, looking to her in surprise. She begged for help, but accidentally spoke in English without thinking. The language barrier confused the domini who were staring at her, all of them frowning, tails twitching.
She was jerked backwards, towards the railing of the platform.
Temnavi yelled, running towards her.
“No!” She shrieked, her heart dropping to her gut.
She wanted help. She did not want the little male who didn't even have his claws yet to be the one offering it.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the ratchi's green arm throw something over her shoulder. A small, chrome ball bounced against the wooden platform. It clanged once, twice, then suddenly stopped as though magnetized to the ground.
With an electric whoosh, a wide barrier of crackling pink energy expanded out from the ball. It cut Peony away from the crowd who, acting just a bit too late, were trying to run towards her. They hit the barrier and were shocked. Not hard, just enough to make them jerk back.
But Temnavi had already run past that point. He dropped the cup, splashing water everywhere, as he tried to put more speed into his tiny legs.
Peony was struggling, but the ratchi she still hadn't seen was so much stronger than her. Wood cracked and splintered as he broke the railing with a few, quick kicks. His arm locked around her waist, and he jumped backwards and down.
She cried out, both hands grabbing without looking-
And catching on the edge of the platform.
Pain burst in all her joints as their combined weight slammed against her arms. But she somehow managed to hold on.
The ratchi was not so lucky. His hissing roar of anger echoed through her ears. Hot, searing pain burst in her calves as his claws tore through them as he fell.