Alien’s Bargain (Alien Wolf Tales #6)

Chapter 1

The spinning wheel hummed its familiar lullaby, the rhythm as steady as a heartbeat, as Jessa guided the fiber between her fingers, watching the twist climb the yarn.

Morning light slanted through the cottage windows, catching dust motes that drifted like tiny stars.

She’d been at this for two hours already, working through the pile of carded wool that sat in its basket beside her stool.

The thread pooled onto the bobbin in neat, even layers—nothing fancy, but it would fetch a fair price at the weekly market.

Behind her, Dani coughed.

The sound was soft, barely audible over the wheel’s drone, and Jessa forced herself to keep her hands moving. Don’t fuss. She hates when you fuss.

Another cough, louder this time.

Unable to resist, she glanced over her shoulder. Her sister sat curled in the reading chair near the window, a blanket tucked around her thin shoulders despite the mild morning. Dani’s dark hair fell loose around her face as she bent over the book in her lap, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“You should eat something,” she said gently.

“Already did.” Dani didn’t look up. Her finger traced the lines on the page, lips moving silently as she read.

“Half a biscuit isn’t breakfast.”

“It is when you’re not hungry.”

She bit back the automatic response. The village medic said forcing food would only make things worse. The medic also said Dani’s constitution was weak, and that she needed warmth and rest and medicine—medicine Jessa couldn’t afford even if it were available in their small village.

But I’ll find a way to get it, she thought fiercely, turning back to the wheel. This batch needed to be done by afternoon if she wanted to start weaving tomorrow.

The familiar quiet of the cottage settled around them.

Their mother’s loom dominated the main room, its frame worn smooth by decades of use.

Baskets of fiber and half-finished projects lined one wall—rust-dyed wool waiting to be spun, a partially woven blanket still on the loom, hanks of linen thread hanging from ceiling hooks to dry.

The air smelled of lanolin and woodsmoke and the faint herbal tang of the tea she had brewed earlier.

The cottage wasn’t large, but it was theirs. Free and clear, paid for by their mother’s skill and their father’s careful savings before the fever took them both.

Dani coughed again, harder this time.

Her hands slowed as she looked over her shoulder again.

“I’m fine.” Dani’s voice carried that edge of exasperation that meant she’d caught Jessa’s worried look. “Stop hovering.”

“I’m not hovering. I’m spinning.”

“You’re spinning and hovering.”

Despite herself, she smiled. Ten years old and sharp as a tack. Dani saw things other people missed. Like the fact that Jessa woke three times every night to check if her sister was still breathing.

The wheel found its rhythm again. Thread, twist, pool.

Thread, twist, pool. She had a commission due next week—a merchant from the port town two valleys over who wanted quality linen for his daughter’s wedding trousseau.

The job would pay well and, more importantly, it had been arranged without her uncle’s contacts which meant she wouldn’t have to give him any of the profits.

She couldn’t afford to miss the deadline.

A loud knock at the door shattered the fragile peace, making her jump. The thread snapped, and the bobbin wobbled. She stomped on the treadle to stop the wheel’s whir, her heart thudding against her ribs like a trapped bird.

Who was calling at this hour?

Probably just one of the neighbors, she told herself, but her stomach churned as she went to open the door.

The sight of her uncle Gerhard on the threshold, his broad frame blocking most of the morning light, did nothing to ease her concern.

Mr. Petras and Mrs. Webb, two other members of the village council, stood behind him, along with a tall thin stranger wearing traveling leathers.

“Jessa.” Gerhard’s practiced smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Good morning, niece. I hope we’re not disturbing your work.”

“I’m afraid I am rather busy this morning,” she said, keeping her voice calm and reasonable.

“I should have sent word ahead, I know. But opportunity waits for no man.” He gestured to the stranger. “May we come in? I’d like to introduce you to Trader Halwick. He’s traveled all the way from Port Cantor.”

Port Cantor? While the trading caravans that brought goods north originated at the spaceport, few of them made it this far. Her hand tightened on the door handle, her unease growing, but she had no justifiable reason to refuse her uncle’s request.

She stepped back. “Of course.”

Her uncle strode confidently into the room, the brass buttons on his formal coat straining over his stomach.

The councilors trailing behind obediently, Mr. Petras stooped with age and Mrs. Webb stout and comfortable.

The trader surveyed the room, his eyes lingering on the loom and the bolts of finished cloth on the shelves behind the loom.

“A nice little operation you have here,” he said, his tone on the verge of condescending. “Your uncle tells me you learned the craft from your mother.”

“She did.” Gerhard answered before she could. “Although I think you’ll find that Jessa’s skill has even exceeded Mira’s in certain areas.”

Rage rushed through her system, but she forced herself to breathe slowly. Her uncle had never praised her mother while she was alive, and he usually sneered at her work as well. Something else was going on here. He was using her as a pawn in a game she didn’t understand.

“A little operation, perhaps, but mine nonetheless,” she said quietly. “A business my parents built from nothing and one which has supported me and my sister since they passed. Now, is there something you wanted? As I mentioned before, I have work to do.”

Gerhard shot her a hard look that promised a lecture later, but the trader just smiled. “Very direct. I like that. It saves us all a great deal of wasted breath.” He gestured at the bolts of fabric and looked at Gerhard. “Where is it?”

Before she could stop him, Gerhard stepped forward and picked up a small bundle of cloth, carefully unwrapping the coarse wool to reveal a shimmering square of fabric inside. “Here. Isn’t it magnificent?”

Trader Halwick took the cloth, running it through his fingers with a look of stunned disbelief. “It is indeed.”

Her stomach knotted. So that’s why her uncle was here.

That small swatch was all she had left of the miracle yarn she’d found a few months ago.

After a storm toppled an ancient tree, she’d gone into the forest to gather wood.

Instead she found the remnants of a strange, vine-like plant with long, golden fibers she’d never seen before.

She’d gathered what she could, brought it home, and experimented.

The resulting thread spun like a dream, shimmering with an internal light, stronger than steel yet softer than silk.

She’d woven a small length of cloth from the thread, then hidden it away, wondering what such a treasure was worth and how best to use it.

Since then, she’d tried several times to find more of the plant, but she’d never been able to locate the strange vine again.

Her uncle had seen it once when he stopped by unexpectedly. She’d done her best to divert his attention and she’d thought she’d succeeded, but he was a merchant through and through. He’d recognized its value.

“As you can see, my niece is exceptionally talented,” Gerhard said, puffing out his chest. “And she can produce much more of this fabric.”

Halwick’s eyes gleamed with avarice. “Is that so? If this is genuine, then a new trade route to this village would be extremely profitable. The merchants in Port Cantor would pay a fortune for this.”

Mr. Petras, who’d been silent until now, bobbed his head. “The village would certainly benefit from new trade opportunities. Times have been difficult since the harvest shortfalls.”

Her mind whirled. A trade route directly to the spaceport would change everything—more opportunities, more income, and most of all, access to the medicine Dani needed. But she couldn’t make more of the fabric. The plant, whatever it was, was gone.

“I can’t,” she said, the words tasting like ash in her mouth.

Gerhard’s face hardened. “Of course you can,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “You’re being modest.”

“Jessa, dear. You must see how this would help your… situation,” Mrs. Webb said, casting a quick glance at Dani, still huddled in her chair and watching everything with wide solemn eyes.

“But—”

Her uncle didn’t give her a chance to finish. “Halwick, please, give my niece a moment to collect her thoughts. We can discuss terms at the council meeting this afternoon.” He guided the trader towards the door, the councilors trailing in his wake like ducklings after their mother.

As soon as the door closed behind them, she was moving, crossing the room in three quick strides to snatch the fabric from her uncle’s hands.

“You can’t do this,” she whispered, her heart pounding against her ribs. “I told you I can’t make more. I don’t know how.”

“You will find a way,” her uncle said, his voice cold as a winter wind. “This is my chance to bring increased prosperity to this village. You will not ruin it.”

“Ruin it? I’m saving you from making a fool of yourself! I have nothing more to give him.”

“Then you had best find a way. Because if you don’t take this opportunity to provide for your sister, perhaps she would be better off living with me.”

“You can’t do that!”

“I can and I will.” He laughed contemptuously. “Who do you think is going to stop me?”

No one. The bitter truth made her stomach churn. Her uncle had too much control over their small village, too much wealth and too many people who owed him.

The benevolent mask returned to his face.

“I’ll make this easy for you. Halwick will be in this area for another week. Produce one more sample before he leaves. In return, I will arrange for him to leave a supply of medicine with me.”

The implication was quite clear. Gerhard would control the medicine and through it, he would control her.

“I’m sure you won’t disappoint me,” he added smugly, then turned and followed the others outside, leaving her standing by the door, her hands shaking.

“Jessa?” Dani’s voice was small and frightened.

She turned and found her sister staring at her, her book forgotten at her side.

“It’s all right,” she said.

It wasn’t all right.

Dani crossed the room and wrapped her thin arms around Jessa’s waist. Her head fit perfectly under Jessa’s chin, dark hair soft against her throat.

“What are we going to do?”

She closed her eyes, carefully tightening her arms around her sister’s delicate body, and took a deep breath.

“I’m going to take you to stay with Miss Mavis for a few days.” Their elderly neighbor was a kind woman who would take good care of her sister.

“Why? What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to find more of that plant.”