Chapter 13
- Crat'ax -
I wake as the village comes alive. Men talk, boys laugh, doors open and close, feet walk on planks, pots clang. Pale morning light slips between the planks of the hut. For a long moment, I don’t move.
Callie sleeps on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, hair spilled across the furs in a dark, tangled fan. Her mouth is slightly open, breath soft and even.
Mated.
The word settles into me with a strange, steady weight. Nobody in the tribe has done that. Nobody in the tribe thought it was something that could happen.
Chosen. I shift carefully, feeling the ache in my shoulders and back.
It is a good ache. And it’s very earned.
I watch the slow rise and fall of her chest, and marvel that the night did not break her. That fear did not hollow her out. That she is here, warm, real, and breathing.
I resist the urge to touch her again, to trace the curve of her shoulder or the fragile strength of her neck.
Instead, I sit up. The smell of smoke and cooked seaweed drifts in from the central fire.
The world did not end in the night. That feels like a miracle.
I step outside the hut and deliberately leave the door ajar behind me.
Two men are already waiting, standing stiffly in the way of those who bring news they do not like to carry. Their eyes flick past me despite themselves, drawn to the sleeping shape inside. I do not block the view. Let them see. Let them understand.
“She sleeps,” I say quietly.
One of them nods. “We will keep this platform clear.”
“Good.”
They shift, uncertain. I never liked shouting men into motion when the chief is better suited for it. Instead, I ask the question that has been grinding at me since the sun rose.
“The dead Adropo. Has he been taken to shore?”
“Before sunrise,” Pret’ax says. “He was placed at the east back of the river, where his tribesmen may retrieve him. The chief says the Adropo will now not be allowed to take part in the day of trade.”
“That’s tough,” I ponder. “It was not the whole Adropo tribe that tried to abduct Callie, only those sent to trade with us. We should state that we will not allow any of them to trade, but we will accept other men from their tribe. We don’t want to make enemies of a whole tribe. And they have good rope, the Adropo.”
“Some have said the same. Perhaps the chief will change his decision,” Pret’ax says, trying to look through the door at Callie.
“The Lifegivers,” I say, getting an idea. “Have they been checked?”
“Yes,” old Gren’ix answers. “Yesterday at noon, as usual. Two boys checked, reporting everything in order.”
“I will go and check now. Only the Deep knows what the Adropo men might want to do in revenge for last night.”
They exchange looks. “The chief may want to—”
“I will speak to him,” I say quickly. “The Adropo were on our turf. I will make certain they did not harm what keeps our tribe alive. It is fair that I should go. I brought Callie to our village, and so I am responsible. Somewhat, anyway.”
That earns another nod.
Behind me, Callie shifts in her sleep, murmuring something I do not understand. Both men glance past me again, their expressions softer now.
“She is… small,” Pret’ax says, as if still trying to place her in the world.
I laugh softly. “Only on the outside. Within, she has whole worlds. Tribesmen, women, are remarkable. But you will see it in time.”
By the time I move through the village, the air has changed. Word travels faster than fire on dry leaves. One Adropo canoe has been found, dragged half onto the mud at the far shore. Sprub’ex is gone.
Anger simmers. I detect some shame, too. I feel it brush against me as I walk, like static before a storm. No one speaks loudly. No one laughs.
The chief meets my gaze once across the platforms, and inclines his head. There will be a reckoning later. Not now.
Inside the hut, Callie is awake, blinking at the ceiling as if trying to remember where she is.
“What is wrong,” she says. “Your eyes. They…” She shows me by frowning hard.
“You were taken in the night,” I answer. “I am allowed to frown. Indeed, in my fury, I am allowed to go to the Adropo tribe, and use my spear on them all.”
She considers that. “But you will not. Yes?”
“Yes, I will not,” I concede. “I may not need to, either. If they’re banned from trading for our splix, their tribe may not last long. Anyway. Callie.”
She raises her little eyebrows. “Yes?”
“I am going to the shore again, to check on the Lifegivers. I know you like to be asked, so I will now ask: Would you like to come with me? There will probably not be a rekh this time. But there may be.”
She stretches luxuriously and gives me a smile. “I like when you ask. Yes, I will come.”
We don’t linger. I pack quickly and methodically, forcing my eyes not to drift too often toward the doorway. I do not want men to gather. I don’t want Callie studied.
“I think you want only me to be not stared at,” she says as she closes her strange garment at her neck.
I hide a smile at her interesting way of speaking. “I do want that,” I agree. “For you to be not stared at. Or rather, I want to be the only man who stares at you.”
“Can I stare at you?” she asks, gathering her hair behind her head.
“No, that’s strictly forbidden,” I tell her with mock seriousness. “You may only stare at my spear.”
She glances at my loincloth, where there is again some hardening going on. “Which spear?”
I unwrap my real spear and put the blunt end on the floor. “Which one do you want to stare at?”
She taps her lips as if in deep thought. “Can I choose later?”
“Oh, all right. Wait here. I’ll get some food we can eat on the way.”
The paddle cuts through the water in steady strokes. Morning light turns the bay pale silver, the jungle steaming softly where the sun touches it. I scan the banks, the trees, the shallow places where raptors like to drink, and the sky, where an irox could come diving at any moment.
Nothing moves. No waves betray a krai lurking.
“It’s not coming,” Callie says, following my gaze to the surface.
“It may never return,” I reply. “It remembers my spear.”
“And I remember the other spear,” Callie says easily.
The memory of the Mating sets off the old pressure again.
We beach the canoe near the stream and move inland together, toward the pond. The Lifegivers grow on their small island, big leaves glossy and untouched.
I walk over to a cluster of bushes planted here for this purpose and lift the canoe from its hiding place among them. “We use this to get to them.” I put it on the surface of the pond. “It’s more suited for boys than for us, but it will carry us.”
Callie wrinkles her little nose at the canoe. “You are sure? It is very small.”
I step into the vessel. It’s so unsteady I almost fall right out again. I gingerly sit on the bottom while the canoe wiggles wildly this way and that. I get the feeling the thin-hulled vessel shakes in tune with my heartbeat. “It’s perfectly safe. Look, it’s completely steady. Come on.”
Callie looks down into the depths. “Are there monster?”
“No, no. There are no krai here.” I reach one hand out. “But there are in the jungle. You should come here before… oh no, is that a rekh?” I look past her.
She squeals and takes my hand, stepping quickly into the canoe without looking behind her. The canoe wobbles as she sits down and turns her head. “Where is rekh?”
I start paddling with the small oar. “I must have seen wrong.”
She snorts. “You not even looking. You know is no rekh. You trick poor small woman, get her in silly boat.”
“Yes,” I admit. “To my credit, it worked. Now, I should tell you about the lake monster.”
She pulls her feet close in alarm. “What?! You said no monster in lake!”
“I said no krai,” I point out as I slowly paddle us towards the island. “Which is true. But many would call the lake monster worse.”
“Worse than a krai? Can we go back now, please? I forgot my… stick.”
“The lake monster is… well, it’s not as big as the krai.
Some say it comes from far away. And it looks very nice, so many don’t understand how dangerous it is.
It will talk to you, and make you like it.
It seems completely harmless. Then it will get you naked and do nice things with you.
And then it falls asleep. Very terrible monster. ”
Callie frowns, then lightly slaps my shoulder. “That is me! No, it is you who is terrible monster. Kidnap small woman from beach, and force her to eat splix.”
I grin and open the pack I brought. “I thought you liked splix.”
“Well, yes,” she sniffs. “I like it very. But what if not? What you do? Only monster force woman.”
I hand her a juice pot, smoked splix wrapped in seaweed, and half a finat fruit. “Perhaps we’re both monsters. But monsters need to eat, too.”
She accepts the food and digs in right away.
My heart swells at the sight, but I’m not sure why. She must be at least part monster, giving her this power over me.
The canoe bumps against the island, and I carefully stand up in the wildly unstable vessel, then pull it halfway onto shore with Callie still in it. “Now we monsters can get ashore.”
She takes my hand and steps out. “They are Lifegivers?”
The boys are grown in four Lifegivers here, one resting and three in various stages of the growth process.
“That’s how our boys are born,” I tell her as we walk up to one.
“I was grown in that one.” I point to the resting pod.
“Another boy was taken out of it a few moons ago, but it will soon be ready for a new one. This one has about one moon left.” I gently lift the outer leaf so the boy inside can be seen.
Callie’s mouth hangs open. “That is a baby!” She kneels to get a better look, giving me a great view of her rear.
Oh, mighty Deep… “Yes… baby…” I pull myself together. “If you want, you can watch when he’s taken out.”
Callie stands back up. “Mmm. It is a strange thing.”
I let the covering leaf fall back into place. “It’s how we keep the tribe going. And it doesn’t look like the Adropo have been here. I was worried they might have wanted to avenge their dead tribesman by attacking our Lifegivers. But that would mean war.”
Callie goes to the bank and looks down into the water. It’s clear all the way to the sandy bottom. “Is there a monster or not?”
I get my spear out of the canoe. “There’s no monster except for us two.”
She looks around at the jungle separated from us by the pond. “Will men from the tribe come?”
“Usually some boys come here at noon, and sometimes old Gren’ix comes with them. Today Gren’ix knows I’m here and will probably not send any boys.”
She walks around the edge of the island, checking for monsters all around it. “Is the water clean?”
I kneel down and scoop a handful of water into my mouth. “Tastes clean. If you’re thirsty, we have more juice.”
“Not thirsty,” she says and stares across the pond to the place we came from. “But I feel dirty.” She reaches to her neck and loosens her garment.
It takes me a moment to understand what she means. She’s the least dirty thing I’ve ever seen. Then I get it: she wants to take a bath.
“The boys often swim here,” I tell her. “I did it myself, many years ago. It’s safe from all the krais and other dangers that the Deep sends us to keep us alert.”
“Nobody will come?” she asks, hand still at her neck. “No monsters?”
“The Bigs can’t reach you in the water. If men come, they will see me and I will chase them away.” I lift my spear.
“Then I swim. You too?” She glances at my loincloth.
“Me too,” I confirm with a dry mouth. I think she’s about to get undressed, and my cock twitches in anticipation.
She turns her back and her garment drops off her like last night.
The sight of her bare back and behind in the sunlight makes the breath stick in my throat. It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, and I have seen some remarkable things these past couple of days.
Callie quickly steps down into the water and pushes herself off the shore, swimming a few strokes while her hair streams behind her. Then she turns onto her back. “It is really w-w-warm! C-c-come on and j-j-jump in!”
I’ve never heard more persuasive words, so I discard my loincloth and free my manhood, insistently pointing to the sky.
I dive in without hesitation and swim over to Callie, pushing my hair out of my face and scanning the edge of the jungle for men and the sky for irox. But there’s nothing threatening us.
“You said it was warm,” I accuse. “But this is the opposite of warm.”
She gives me a wicked little grin. “Oh, big w-w-warrior not like w-w-water? While small woman s-s-swims and does not c-c-complain?”
“I like the water,” I counter. “Just not that it’s c-c-cold.”
“This is not cold,” Callie informs me. “But maybe this?” She splashes my face with a small drop or two.
I wipe the water out of my face. “Still cold. How about this?” I splash her back, using much more water than she did.
“It is nice,” she splutters. “Warm water, very pleasant. How about this?” She splashes me again, much more vigorously than the first time.
I pretend that the water pushes me back, coughing and gargling. “That’s the coldest water yet. Now how is this?” I wind up and send a massive wave her way. It washes over her and pushes her under.
She emerges spluttering. “So warm! Wonderful. I will stay here now.”
Cold water drips from her hair as she turns around and swims to the bank and finds the bottom with her feet. I wade after her.
When she turns, her eyes are bright and her skin is flushed from play, chill, and something else that excites me. I can feel it in my chest, in the tight awareness of her body near mine, in the way the air itself seems to hold still.
She stops an arm’s length away, close enough that I can smell her: clean water, sun-warmed skin, a faint trace of smoke that still clings to us both. Her gaze drops, then lifts again, slow and deliberate, as if she is deciding something important.
She puts one hand on my waist and the other on the grass of the island. “Can you lift me up?”