Chapter 19 #2
Lacey shuddered. “That’s a big no from me. I prefer to keep my feet on something solid.” She tilted her head as she regarded the dens. “Didn’t Ivy say she stayed in one of those with Ketahn?”
“She did,” Telok said. “Ketahn kept such a den for years.”
“I couldn’t imagine being carried in and out of one of those things.”
He placed his hand on her back. “I would not let you fall.”
She chuckled. “That’s not the point.”
“Wait,” Cole said, turning to face Tas, “we’re not staying in one of those, right?”
Tas hummed, lifting a hand to tap his chin. “If you are split into smaller groups…”
Cole turned on his heel. “Well, was nice meeting you all. I’m going home.”
“I will den here,” Garahk said, thumping his foreleg on the platform.
Chittering, Tas waved his hands placatingly. “No, no. I speak in jest. We have plenty of space on the platforms for all of you to rest comfortably. Sophia also keeps her den on one of the platforms.”
“Oh, thank God,” Lacey breathed.
Tas beckoned them with an upper hand and strode to the bridge leading to the centermost platform. “Come. Let us meet with the council so we may move swiftly to more pleasant matters.”
They followed him across. Telok stayed close behind Lacey, tension coursing through him as the bridge bounced under the weight of their group. Though she was more surefooted after her time in Kaldarak, she kept a tight grip on the sides.
The quiet that had greeted their arrival faded as chatter arose amongst the onlooking winddancers, who were beginning to gather in small crowds.
The group reached the central platform. Tas led them around the trunk, past several buildings, including the one that held the looms. A pair of weavers stared at the passing hunters, their work forgotten.
More winddancers were inside and around the other buildings, where they’d been carving wood, shaping blackrock, and molding clay.
No matter what their tasks had been, they all watched Telok and his companions.
He read the same emotions in their eyes that he’d seen in Tas’s back at camp—curiosity, excitement, and caution.
And much like Garahk had when the shadowstalkers first entered Kaldarak, Wen’Xal Tas reassured his kind with warm words, telling them that these were new friends of their Nedrayas. That after the meeting with the council, proper introductions would be made.
Telok found himself just as guarded and on edge as he’d been during that initial journey into the thornskulls’ home, though his reasons were different.
Entering Kaldarak had been striding into the den of his old enemies, facing vrix who he’d fought years before, whose friends and family had been slain by him and his kind.
He’d expected hostility, had expected violence.
He feared neither from the winddancers, who had no such bloody history with thornskulls or shadowstalkers. No, his tension was entirely due to the conversation ahead. He knew Garahk would not refuse the winddancers’ request…and Telok would not abandon his companions.
As he saw more of Tovuunshai, it became apparent that this place was far smaller than Kaldarak, and the winddancers numbered far fewer than the thornskulls.
How many of their kind had been lost to the kurghests? How many more hunters and foragers could a village this size lose before they would begin struggling to gather adequate food, before they would be left defenseless from outside threats?
On the far side of the platform, they came to another rope bridge, this one leading up.
Telok followed it with his gaze to the next tree.
Its trunk split into several huge branches that spread outward, leaving a large space atop which had been built another platform bearing a big, round building with a high, steep roof.
As he crossed the bridge, Telok glanced back to find many winddancers clustered on the platform behind him, talking excitedly to each other, but none of them followed.
Tas paused at the entrance of the structure to lean his spear against the wall before stepping inside.
Garahk did the same, and the rest of their group again followed his example, Telok with far less reluctance than before.
All his companions but Cole and Lacey had to duck to fit through the wide but low entrance.
The woven grass shutters on the structure’s windows were propped open, allowing golden evening light to pour into the spacious interior.
Long, thin strips of silk adorned the ceiling, creating a colorful pattern.
Wood supports ran from the walls and up along the ceiling to converge at the high point in the center, through which a glimmer of daylight could be seen.
The floor was covered by furs, mats, and large cushions, loosely arranged in curved rows.
Directly across from the entrance was a dais with three more cushions atop it.
Stopping in front of the dais, Tas turned toward the others and waved at the furnishings. “Please sit, my friends, and take ease. The council will arrive soon.”
The thornskulls spread out, finding comfortable places to ease down.
Ayali stared at one of the cushions, which looked tiny beneath her.
She extended a foreleg, reaching for another cushion, but Ess and Zesh scrambled into action before she could grab it, shoving several cushions together and waving for her to sit.
“Thank you,” she said with a chitter before settling down and folding her legs at her sides.
After exchanging a glare with one another, Ess and Zesh seated themselves on either side of Ayali.
Lacey chuckled quietly.
With a shake of her head, Ohn strode past Ayali and the males to take a spot nearer to the dais.
“Damn.” Cole turned in place with his face tilted toward the ceiling, studying the structure. “That’s some good craftsmanship.”
Lacey smiled as she took off her pack. “Getting ideas to upgrade the lounge?”
“Oh, I’m thinking a lot bigger than that. But it’s not like I need another project to add to my list.”
“You are a shaper?” Tas asked.
“Yup. Mostly woodworking, some carpentry. That kind of stuff. Really impressed with what you guys have here.” Cole walked to the wall and reached up, running his fingers over a spot where one of the beams met it.
“There were so many fancy tools and materials back on Earth, but half the stuff we made with them was shit compared to what vrix have built here.”
Garahk stretched his forelegs out in front of him and braced his lower palms upon them. “Cole has helped to shape Kaldarak into something new. Mine have learned much from him.”
Lacey selected a cushion, set her bag on the floor, and sat, crossing her legs.
Telok lowered himself on the one beside hers, staring at the gap between them. After a moment’s consideration, he decided that he did not care for that empty space, so he grabbed Lacey’s cushion and dragged her closer. She gasped, hands and legs flailing as she wobbled.
Telok banded his arm around her waist to steady her. “I said I would not let you fall.”
Tipping her head back, she looked up at him with a pinched brow. “A little warning would have been nice.”
“Ah. So you want me to say”—he dipped his head toward her, voice falling into a low rumble—“I am going to take you.”
Pink bloomed on her cheeks as her eyes rounded. She quickly looked away, but not before Telok glimpsed the smile she was trying to hide from him.
“And after all that time you kept pushing me away…” she muttered.
Trying to keep distance between them had been a foolish waste of moon cycles.
His efforts had been for nothing; his failure had been fated from the beginning.
Their threads had always been tangled together, had always been meant to be bound.
And he was closer than ever to succumbing to his instincts and taking what he wanted.
Yet he clenched his jaw regardless, fighting back the consuming fire flaring in his pelvis and the heat crackling beneath his hide, trying to ignore the warmth of Lacey’s body against his and her enticing scent filling the air.
Losing battle or not, this was neither the time nor the place to give in.
Telok curled his fingers around her, drawing her snugly against him. He inhaled in more of her fragrance, flooding his senses with sunshine, sweetness, and the maddening scent that belonged wholly to her.
“Nyleea,” Tas said with a trill.
Thankful for the distraction, Telok shook off the red haze creeping into his vision and glanced over his shoulder.
Nes’Kahn Shir had arrived, accompanied by two male winddancers. One of the males had a black hide and fur with eyes as a red as the markings on his hindquarters, and the other had a pale gray hide with graying black fur, his blue and green markings faded with age.
Shir nodded to her mate as she and her companions strode across the room to the dais. Stepping up with Shir at their center, they faced the others.
She dipped her head low and spread her arms, palms turned up. “As you welcomed us into your camp, we welcome you to Tovuunshai with peace and hope for a lasting friendship.”
“Be welcome,” the other two said in unison, mimicking Shir’s gesture.
“I am Nes’Kahn Shir. I stand with Kohl’Kar Sahn”—she gestured to the elder vrix, and then to the red-eyed male—“and Kin’Jahl Jehk. We serve as council, and thus, speak with the voice of our Nedrayas.”
“I am called Garahk ki’Tuun, Slayer of the Golden Walker.
” Garahk thumped his chest. He introduced his companions one by one, including Telok, Lacey, and Cole, before continuing.
“I do not lead Kaldarak, but our daiya is my mate. In her absence, I speak for Kaldarak. Mine offer peace and share your hope for friendship, Nes’Kahn Shir. ”
“It is true under sun and sky,” Elharat said solemnly.
The council eased down onto their cushions. Sahn moved a bit slower than the other two, a slight trembling visible in his legs.