Chapter 15
– Kenz’ox –
Dorie goes back into the ship.
“She wants to leave,” I tell Aker’iz. “But the ship won’t let her.”
Aker’iz babbles something.
I sigh. “She may be right. There are many Bigs in the jungle. And one day, one of them might get her. Even if she’s really good with her spear. And… of course she might be the Woman. She may be waiting for the Gift I’m supposed to give her.”
I don’t remember what that gift was supposed to be. But I’m more and more certain that she’s not that legendary figure from the prophecies, sent from the Ancestors to become the Mother of Xren.
“Surely such a Woman would be completely different from Dorie?” I ponder out loud while Aker’iz plays with her stick, shaking it and pushing it into the skin floor.
“Surely she would be less alive and more distant? More like the Ancestors themselves? Surely she wouldn’t be an alien.
And surely she wouldn’t be this… wonderful. ”
Still, I can’t help smiling. I’ve Mated. With Dorie. And what a Mating it was. It was different from what I expected, but much, much better than I thought it could be. And I want it again.
I quickly build a canopy for the playpen, so that Aker’iz doesn’t have to worry about sap and sticky dew dripping on her thin hair. Then I make her porridge and try to feed her some fried meat that I carefully grind up with two rocks and mix with water to make it soft.
“All big warrior girls must eat meat,” I purr as I try to feed it to her.
“Look at Dorie. Best spearswoman on Xren. She eats meat with every meal. Yes, into the mouth… thaaat’s it.
I think you’ll probably be a swordswoman, but maybe Dorie will teach you to use the spear and you can choose yourself. If she stays here that long.”
I gaze over at the ship. I can sometimes hear her talking to herself in there while she tinkers with the Plood things. It’s not a happy sound. There’s desperation in it. Sometimes there are muffled knocks and bangs from inside.
“She wants to go home,” I explain to Aker’iz as I reposition her on my lap.
“We understand only too well. But we can’t go home.
At least not for a long time. And we have each other.
Dorie has only herself now. At least that’s how she feels, even if you and I are right here.
Open wide… yes! Well done. Here comes the irox flying into the gape of the fearsome Aker’iz, the loudest Big in the jungle… ”
When we’re done, Aker’iz yawns and I put her into her pack the way she likes. Stirring up the fire, I start cooking a stew from roots and the last of the usable skarn meat. What’s left we’ll have to throw away, since we turned the drying hut into a playpen for Aker’iz.
I tense up when Dorie comes back out. Her eyes are rimmed with red and she sniffles softly as she walks to the edge of the clearing and stares toward the sound of the ocean.
“Dinner will soon be ready,” I tell her. “Our little chief has already had hers, so that she could get some important business done.”
Dorie sighs, straightens her back, and turns around. “I see she doing chief work.”
I stir the stew and add some salt. “She does her best work asleep. If only all chiefs were like that.”
She picks up some rocks and places them in the playpen, around the edges of the skin sheet, keeping it in place. “What do most chiefs do?”
“Oh, they make decisions. They decide who’s right when there is a quarrel between two tribesmen.
They have their faces carved into the totem pole and have the first use of the Lifegivers.
They set fire to the pyres of dead tribesmen and decide which of the boys are to have which sword.
They give names to the new boys and decide if they are to be allowed to stay or must be set out to die. At least our chiefs were like that.”
“Do they hunt in the jungle?” she asks, adjusting the woven wall of the playpen.
“The chiefs? No. I’ve never known a chief to go outside the village walls except for some special reason.”
“If a chief did that, and was married to a woman, and was chief of two tribes, and both tribes were the most powerful on Xren or almost—would you like that chief?”
I add some salt. “Is this the Borok chief you speak of? He sounds like a mighty man.”
“I never met him. But they say he is mighty.”
I taste the stirring stick. The salt makes the whole thing delicious. “And he hunts with his tribesmen? Truly a worthy chief for his men.”
She must hear the tone of my voice. “But not for you?”
I fish a root out of the stew and bite into it. Still too hard. “I think we’re done with tribes. Aker’iz is all the chief we need.”
“She is a great chief,” Dorie agrees. “Perhaps one day she be chief of a big tribe. Such as the Borok tribe.”
I’m starting to have had enough of that tribe. “You really want us to go there.”
“It not about what I want,” she says. “But what happen when the ship works and I leave? Your safe place gone.”
“Then we will find another safe place,” I snap. “Or maybe we’ll stay. Maybe we’ll try to find that damn Borok tribe of yours. Maybe we’ll have no choice. And maybe you won’t leave. Maybe you can’t fix that cursed Plood thing.”
The clearing is silent except for the hiss from the beach.
I should not have spoken like that to her.
She’s clearly pinned a lot of hope on the ship.
But whenever I think of her leaving, it makes me afraid that she will.
Because what is this place compared to her own planet?
I don’t want her to leave. I want us three to live here.
Together, in safety. Already this clearing is halfway to becoming a small village.
“Maybe I can’t fix it,” Dorie says quietly. “Maybe I can’t leave. But I have to try. Is not just me. Is also the others. The other women. Only I am here and maybe can fix it. Callie is gone.” She looks down and her shoulders sag.
I lift Aker’iz and rock her gently as I make my way over to Dorie. I have this urge to hold her, too. To rock her and tell her that things will be good. But if I try, she might push me away.
Well, then she can just push me. It won’t kill me.
I gently put one hand on her narrow shoulder. “You feel the duty,” I state, matching her tone. “The duty to your tribeswomen. Any warrior would understand.”
She nods, not looking up.
Aker’iz reaches out too and strokes her fingers along Dorie’s forearm. “Breglgg.”
Dorie smiles and gives the baby her fingertip. “Really?”
Aker’iz grabs hold of it. “Blubrud.”
Dorie strokes a hair out of the baby’s face. “I see.”
“Googlurb!”
She gives me a glance with a little glint in it. “I think you’re right, Aker’iz. He does his best.”
“Hm,” I growl in mock anger. “It sounds like you girls are talking about me behind my… well, my front, I suppose.”
“Maybe we are,” Dorie quips. “We’re talking behind your front. But it’s all nice things.” She puts her hand on top of mine.
“We’ll be here as long as you stay,” I tell her while my heart goes warm. “When you leave, perhaps we’ll leave too. Until then, we’re all safe here.”
“Thank you,” she says softly.
I let out a slow breath. I’m still holding Aker’iz with one arm and Dorie with the other, and for a moment the three of us breathe together while the ocean hisses.
Then Dorie’s breath wavers. Just a tremble, but enough. She presses her lips together and looks away, blinking too fast.
“You’re tired,” I murmur. “And the day has been long.”
She shakes her head. “I just… I don’t know how much more I can do with the ship. Every day I try. And every day I feel farther away.”
I shift Aker’iz against my shoulder and step a little closer. “That ship is stubborn like a wild rekh. You’ll tame it when the time is right.”
She gives a small, dry laugh. “Is it possible to tame rekh?”
“Nobody’s ever done it,” I admit. “But one must be the first. And I notice you have tamed a griket.”
She doesn’t pull her hand away from mine. She squeezes it instead.
Aker’iz lets out a soft chirp and nuzzles against my neck, half-asleep.
Dorie wipes her face. “We must put her inside while you cook. It getting cold.”
“Yes,” I agree, though the fire is warm and I’d carry both of them forever if I could. “She should sleep where she’s safe.”
We walk together toward the saucer. Dorie opens the door with a tired movement of her wrist. When I carry Aker’iz inside, the light changes from sharp to soft and there’s a gentle hum coming from the walls.
I place the baby in her pack and put her in the best place, surrounded by soft leather sheets and small furs.
“Kenz’ox,” she says quietly, “I’m sorry. I won’t talk more about the Borok tribe. I not even know if they are good.”
“We’re here,” I say. “We’re not going anywhere.”
I expect her to pull back. She doesn’t. She rests her forehead lightly against my chest. A small, tired sound escapes her, a sigh that speaks of many things that are hard to say.
Carefully, I put my arms around her.
She melts into me like a spront seeking fire.
For a long moment we just stand there, outside the ship, breathing each other in. Her fingers clutch lightly at my side.
“Kenz’ox,” she whispers. I sense the need in her, and it matches my own.
I brush my hand up her back, slow enough for her to stop me if she wants. She doesn’t. She leans into it. Her cheek turns into my chest; her lips graze my skin through the fur.
“I’m here,” I murmur again, my voice rough with everything I’m trying to hold back.
She tilts her face up toward mine.
I don’t move.
She does.
She lifts on her toes and kisses me. Just a soft press. Almost nothing. But it hits like lightning. My hands tighten around her waist; she gasps against my lips. The sound sends heat rushing through me.
I pull back a fraction. “Dorie…” I warn, because I’m losing the strength to be gentle.
She shakes her head and pulls me down again, kissing me harder. Her fingers slide up the back of my neck. “Don’t,” she breathes. “Don’t stop.”
I close the hatch to the ship almost all the way, leaving just a thin line of yellow light around the edge. My hands find Dorie’s hips.
Her hand strokes along the front of my loincloth.
She trembles with want. Or maybe I do—it’s hard to tell.
I lift her easily.
She wraps her legs around me.