Chapter 14
– Theodora –
I stare into the fire, trying to decide if it makes any sense to explain it to him. The chaos on that weird station—the smells, the aliens, having our clothing cut off and replaced with the jumpsuits, the absolute panic and screaming because we had no idea what the hell was happening.
Then being split up, the absolutely terrifying Vyrzy aliens walking on the walls and ceiling and looking at us like they wanted to eat us…
And then Dex, taking Riley and Morgan and Callie and me with him, and us following him because at least he wasn’t Vyrzy or Plood and he kind of spoke some words of English.
Then back in the same saucer, with the Plood gone except for one that Dex chased out, the wild ride through space for hours, and then the hard landing when Dex lost control.
“Bad things,” I confirm. “But I think it could have been worse.” I still get a chill down my back thinking of those Vyrzy aliens. The girls and I are pretty sure that Dex saved us from them, although we don’t know exactly what they wanted with us. We’re just sure it wasn’t anything nice.
He turns the skewers and puts four new ones on the fire. “You survived it. The Ancestors still have plans for you. And you escaped the Darkness and their servants.”
I have some idea what he means by that. Cora did tell us about that very peculiar member of their tribe who claims to be a dragon, which seems to be an alien species the cavemen call the Darkness.
Apparently that dragon was even here some months ago.
And I remember the clear, calm day when we were all struck by an icy panic from out of nowhere, when we huddled inside the saucer, whimpering and weeping from an icy, mysterious fear while we heard the muffled sound of a voice outside.
There’s a sound from the jungle and I move closer to Kenz’ox.
Right now I don’t mind needing his bubble of safety.
We did something really cool together tonight, and I’m still blissfully relaxed and kind of giddy.
Not that I’m part of his little family, of course.
This was just some really nice spice in a drab life, a break from the constant desperation and fear and worry.
Something life-affirming at last. Some real pleasure.
But I’m still a little surprised at how forward I was about making it happen. I touch the wound on my calf.
Kenz’ox hands me a skewer from the fire, dripping with fat.
“Thank you. You said krolts are venomous. Deadly?”
He bites into his own skewer. “If you get enough venom. Otherwise it makes you confused. Sometimes happy.”
That could be it. I did feel really happy.
A slow warmth spreads through me again at the memory, and I can’t tell how much of it is leftover krolt venom, how much is the afterglow of what we did, and how much is just him being so calm and so close.
The jungle hums around us, but nothing feels threatening while he’s sitting there, massive and watchful, grease dripping from his fingers in the firelight.
I take a bite of the meat and savor the rich, smoky flavor, letting it anchor me.
“Well,” I murmur, trying to sound casual, “maybe I got just enough.”
His eyes flick to mine, steady and unreadable, and something warm curls low in my stomach.
I look away quickly, pretending to study the shadows at the tree line.
I’m not falling for him. Absolutely not.
I’m just letting myself rest here for a minute, wrapped in heat and safety and the fading echo of danger, pretending that the world outside this fire doesn’t exist. A girl is allowed to enjoy her life sometimes, even on Xren.
- - -
Right after breakfast the next day, Otis comes trotting in as if nothing’s happened. He curls his tail around my waist and squeezes, casually looking the other way.
“Where have you been?” I demand. “I thought something had happened to you!”
He looks up at me with those slitted, tennis-ball eyes and squeezes harder. I swear he’s grown six inches in height since last time. I’m sure it’s him—he has a white spot right at the back of one ear.
I sense Kenz’ox’s eyes on us from the saucer, where he and Aker’iz are practicing their spoon-feeding. He shifts his position to be ready if Otis were to pounce on her.
“Fine,” I growl, secretly relieved. “I’ll get some meat for you.” I find some less tender pieces of skarn and toss them to him. He snaps them out of the air and attacks them on the spot, growling and chomping.
Aker’iz laughs heartily at the spectacle and Otis glances over. He lets go of me, turns his head toward her, and attacks the food with even more noise and gusto, twisting his tail into impossible spiral shapes.
The baby shrieks with glee and laughs with the happiest, little bubbly sound I’ve ever heard.
Even Kenz’ox has to give a tight smile. “I think they’re becoming friends.”
“Otis is friendly,” I agree. I’d been worried that I’d domesticated him and made him unable to live on his own, but he’s been gone for days and he’s definitely grown in that time, so he seems perfectly able to feed himself.
I finish my own breakfast and look around for the materials I’ll need to make a playpen for Aker’iz. It’s not a fancy structure, and I’ll use the same principles as for the now sadly ruined hut for drying meat. That also has to be repaired.
Otis finishes his meal and lifts his head, staring at Aker’iz. He suddenly jumps back as if startled, legs wobbling wildly while he hangs in the air.
Aker’iz howls with laughter, making her whole frontpack shake.
Otis repeats the game, sneaking closer and then suddenly jumping back. He’s obviously playing—one young creature with another. Although it seems more like entertainment, in the same way an adult dog might play with a human toddler.
Finally, he stalks off toward the beach, still loudly gnawing on a bone.
Aker’iz’s sounds turn to frustrated whimpers when her entertainment is over.
“She has no patience,” Kenz’ox says and throws her into the air, making her squeal with joy again. “She wants us to play with her at all times.”
“Let me try something,” I suggest, walking over. “I’ll take her into the ship.”
“Hopefully it won’t bore her as much as I do.” Kenz’ox gently hands the baby over.
She has a compact weight to her, and she’s obviously growing fast. But I can still carry her easily.
I step into the saucer. Immediately the light goes from pale blue to a warmer yellow, and there’s definitely a hum that starts.
“It senses you,” I tell Aker’iz. “But it doesn’t sense me or anyone else.”
I sit down by an open console. The first console I opened is the only one that has no light inside it. The other ones have an inner glow, so I don’t need a smelly lamp to work in them.
“Now look at this,” I coo in English and turn Aker’iz so she can see inside the console. “Can you make sense of it?”
The dim lights inside and the weird shapes always have a hypnotic effect on me, but Aker’iz is unimpressed. She reaches in with one chubby hand and touches some of the glass parts, but it doesn’t change much, and she soon starts to squirm and kick her little legs in instant boredom.
“All right,” I concede and get back up. “I guess alien flying saucers are just not as exciting as they should be. But I think this one likes you.”
I try two other consoles, but none of them are able to get her interested. So I carry her out again, noticing that the light in the saucer turns blue the moment we step through the hatch, and the hum stops.
“It’s as if it senses you,” I tell her. “But not us. Why? What is your connection to the Plood? And if it senses you, why won’t it turn on completely?”
She has no answer to that.
But it’s progress—like entering a car and turning on the inside light. At least you know there’s a battery and it has some charge, even if you can’t start the engine.
“I was going to build her a new playpen,” I tell Kenz’ox as I hand his baby back to him. “But now I have another idea.”
He raises his eyebrows. “What?”
I look over at the broken hut. “You’ll see.”
He gathers the various leather sheets that Aker’iz uses into a bundle. “Ah. The little irox-voiced girl and I will take a walk. Some of us really like the beach.”
I give him a little smirk. “We all like the beach.”
“And sometimes we really like it,” he agrees, sending me a naughty glance and walking off toward the sea.
A hard tingle goes through my nether regions at the memory of what happened after the dactyl attack. “Mhm, sometimes we have a lot of fun there,” I mutter.
I put my hands on my hips and consider the ruined little hut. We can build a hut for drying meat later. A place to put Aker’iz where she’s out of the way is more urgent. Right now, Kenz’ox is spending a lot of his time just watching her.
Most of the hut can probably be used. Only two of the upright poles have been broken by the krolt’s attack, and the vine we carefully wove between them has been badly shredded in the places where the monster went through it.
The holes have a vague T-shape from its body, a bit like the holes Wile E.
Coyote leaves when he falls to the ground from a great height.
I start separating the parts of the vine that we can still use. The poles are good to go once we replace two of them. A playpen doesn’t need to have high walls anyway.
“But a good playpen needs more than just walls,” I say absentmindedly to myself. “If only Toys R Us were still in business, I’m sure they’d have a branch nearby. But maybe we can think of something.”
I go over to the heap of materials that both Sprisk and Kenz’ox have assembled by the edge of the clearing, grab some promising-looking pieces, and replace the broken poles with them. They’re not as tall as the others, but that’s fine.
When it all looks sturdy enough, I start with the pieces of vine, using the longest strands at the bottom.
“Because the little inmate will try to pull them out so she can make her adorable escape,” I mutter. “Have to make it harder for her.”