Chapter 26
Haley
I can feel the sudden tension in Draggar almost like it’s sitting right beside me. His strong jaw is clenched so tightly I fear he’ll break a fang. I want to wrap my arms around him and tell him that everything will be okay, but I settle for placing my hand on his arm to let him know that I’m right beside him. From everything he said, he was expecting this.
I remember him telling me during one of our “talks” on the journey here that the chief of his tribe had not given him permission to spy on the other tribes, but that he had felt it was important to do so for the safety of his tribe.
And I agree with him. I’ve never dealt with territory disputes and rumors of attack, but I have experienced the headache that is office politics. And it’s always better to be as informed as possible before making any decisions.
“I went to check on the Xeniiv and Tussoll. . .” Draggar begins to speak, his voice strong and his head held high with confidence. “To see if the rumors Jaran has been telling are true. If they are preparing for an attack.”
His father waits patiently for Draggar to continue. “The Xeniiv have a new chief. You remember Sevvern, yes?”
“The young male who preferred slaughtering defenseless dicro newlings because they were easier to hunt?” The chief asks, disbelief in his voice.
Jeez, killing baby animals? This Sevvern guy really does not sound like a very nice person.
Draggar nods. “He is their new leader after Chief Aarixon died – under suspicious circumstances, if you ask me.” The chief’s gaze narrows with speculation as he listens to Draggar tell him about this Sevvern guy being made the medic for his tribe and confining the old chief to his hut until he died.
“Sevvern has had their food – except what is not fit to ingest – stored in his hut under lock and key. Their game has been driven from their lands. Where once their territory was plentiful with food, their plains and the jungle that covers a portion of their land now lie empty of dicro or scrof or any of the other animals we depend upon for food. Their fruiting trees and plants have been poisoned.”
Draggar pauses before adding, “The Xeniiv are starving. They have lost many males already.” I can feel the shock that greets those words and Draggar’s sadness at the thought of anyone going hungry.
“I met a young Xeniiv hunter named Sevix. He was returning from our hunting grounds with a dicro. He said Chief Sevvern has told them that we are the ones who have stolen their game and poisoned their land.” There is a thread of disbelief in Draggar’s voice. He takes a deep breath and finishes, “And you were leading the warriors who did so.”
A loud bang rings out as Chief Daggir slaps his hand against the thick wooden surface of the table and rises to his feet. His face is flushed a dark mottled steel color, and it’s obvious the other tribe’s accusation has greatly upset him.
“Impossible!” He roars. “The Anuriix are an honorable tribe.”
The two older aliens who were busy cleaning and chatting stopped immediately to stare when they heard their chief’s loud pronouncement. After a moment of stunned silence, they return to their duties, but their startled gazes continually return to us.
“That is what I told him, and I think he finally believed me. After I told him that we would not want to see another tribe hungry when we can help. I gave him permission to hunt on our lands. I should have consulted you first, but. . .”
Chief Daggir interrupts him with a wave of his hand, as he settles back down onto his seat. “You did the right thing. That is what I have tried to teach you. You are a good son.” I glance over at Draggar and I can sense the pleased glow from his father’s words, and my heart warms for him.
I’ve tried to be as quiet as possible and to not interrupt – because what do I know about alien disputes? - but curiosity gets the better of me.
“So, what do you think has happened to the animals and plants on the Xeniiv’s territory?” I ask.
“Ah, I was just coming to that. Thank you, my amoris, for reminding me.” Draggar’s eyes send me a warm look of appreciation and he raises my hand to his lips for a quick kiss against my knuckles. “After our encounter with the tiniio, I left you in a safe cave while you slept, and I went to see if anything looked out of place in the Tussoll village. I noticed their lands are teeming with animals, almost as if Xeniiv’s game have been herded to the Tussoll’s territory. The Tussoll were chanting victory songs and they seemed to be preparing for a feast.”
His voice turns harsh and his eyes narrow. “I witnessed a Tussoll male returning from a successful hunt and he was accompanied by two Pugj.” Heavy silence meets Draggar’s last words, and a tremor of apprehension runs through me.
“I don’t get it. . . What is a Pugj?” I ask.
Chief D’raggir explains, “The Pugj are hairy beings who live on top of the highest mountains of our planet. We do not know where they came from, but they appeared one day when my father was chief of this tribe. He and the other tribal chiefs joined together to welcome the Pugj. There is more than enough land here for all of us to live in harmony, or at least that was the thought back then. But the Pugj would not have it, and they made it clear they wanted the planet to themselves.”
Draggar takes over the story. “The tribes would gather for games and celebrations throughout the year, but the Pugj began attacking each time we did so. We lost many males during the attacks either by dying in battle or from abduction by the Pugj. Warriors who escaped told of other captives being slowly tortured to death with the Pugj gathered around cheering on their deaths as if they consider it a sport.” His voice deepens with emotion. ”They returned with tales of the Pugj eating their victims once they were finished torturing them. It is said they enjoy the fear that sweetens their captives” flesh.” Fuck. My face blanches at his words.
“Finally, the tribal chiefs held a meeting and decided to eliminate the large gatherings completely as it was no longer safe. But the attacks have continued.”
“So, basically, you’re saying the Pugj are your enemies.” At their nods, I ask, “So, why was your enemy invited to a feast hosted by a Laediriian tribe?”
Silence meets my question until Draggar breaks it. “Unless they have joined forces with the Pugj.” I can tell he’s hesitant to even suggest that any Laediriian would ally themselves with their enemy as it is so unthinkable to him. “But why would they do that?” He cocks his head to the side.
That’s the million-dollar question, I guess, and it doesn’t look like there’s a ready answer.
“When you return from your journey to the ship, I will call a meeting of the tribal council and we will discuss the information you have obtained. We have many changes to make to meet this new threat.” Chief Daggir sits back in his seat.
Draggar and his father discuss a few other matters, but I only listen with half an ear, too caught up in thoughts about my friends.
My attention snaps back to the conversation as the chief stands and says, with a smile on his face, “No matter what happens with the other tribes and the Pugj, we have received good news tonight. The future of our tribe – of the Laediriian species as a whole – looks brighter. There are once more females on our planet and the amoris bond has returned to us. That is splendid news, indeed. Our future does not have to include extinction.”
Shit.I wonder if I should tell them, now. It’s obvious the amoris bond returning means a lot to them, and that they’re referring to the possibility of children. Do I tell them now that I have endo – that the Zyfeliks considered me damaged goodsbecause I can’t have children?
But I don’t have a chance. Chief Daggir bids us good night and before I know it, Draggar guides me away from the dining area with a warm hand against the small of my back.
I gaze at the small village around us as we walk through it. I was too nervous earlier to notice much of anything, but now, I look around in amazement. Draggar notes my interest and offers to give me a tour.
We spend the next hour touring the village, and my amazement only grows. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, not even in a movie.
The village is made up of an odd mix of rustic dwellings that look like they belong in the Middle Ages along with really advanced technology that is light years beyond Earth’s capabilities. I even spot an alien carrying around a device that I swear looks like an iPad.
Draggar mentions that their ancestors brought a lot of technology with them when they settled on the new planet and thanks to tribe members like his cousin, they’ve managed to keep it in working order. I’m honestly impressed at their ingenuity, and it quickly occurs to me that they might have managed to keep their ancestors’ spaceship operational.
“What about the ship your ancestors traveled here on? Does it still work?”
Draggar glances at me, the expression on his face unreadable. “No. It ran out of the fuel needed for flight and there is none available on the planet.”
Well, that sucks. Not that I or any of my friends would have even known how to fly a spaceship to take us back to Earth.
Along with the space age technology, there are also more rustic elements in the settlement that would be at home in historical reenactment. There’s even a blacksmith, a gargantuan man with arms as big around as small tree trunks. He barely says a word while we’re there, but when he does, his voice is so soft and gentle that he reminds me of a giant teal teddy bear.
Next, we visit a small building that serves as a clinic and it’s staffed by the tribe’s medic, the afore-mentioned Warrix. He’s not quite as bulky as some of the other men in the tribe, but his intelligent gaze lets me know he’s assessing me as Draggar translates for me.
While we’re there Draggar insists that the medic should run a scan on me to make sure I don’t have any lingering injuries from the crash. Warrix gets out a small hand-held scanner that emits a blue light that looks kind of like the scanner on the ship. He slowly runs the device over me from head to toe until it emits a shrill beep and displays information on a nearby screen that looks like a blur of squiggles.
Even though he doesn’t have a translator, yet, and can’t understand me, Warrix still looks at me when he says, “Your vitamin and mineral levels appear to be low, but I do not know if the levels are abnormal for your species. But I suspect they are. Unfortunately, our database does not have any information about humans. I noticed your flat teeth, which I assume indicates your species normally ingests a wide variety of plant material. I would suggest a few days of full meals with plenty of meat and plants should resolve any low vitamin and mineral levels. I also noticed the healing injury to your ankle and the blisters on your feet.” He gestures towards my feet and asks, “May I?”
Warrix quickly removes the wrappings around my feet and examines them before declaring that my sprained ankle and the blisters are healing nicely and that I should be completely better in another day or two with the proper treatment. The medic applies a thick layer of green paste that smells similar to the goo but with a much stronger scent. He says the paste will not only help my injuries heal faster, but it will also provide protection by sealing the wounds and making my ankle more stable.
I marvel as the green paste quickly dries into a thin plaster on my feet, leaving behind a cool, tingling sensation.
Before we leave, I insist that Draggar should be checked over as well and he reluctantly agrees. After using his scanner thing, Warrix gasps as soon as he reads the information on the screen. “There are traces of bane nectar in your body. You were poisoned?”
I can sense the hesitation inside Draggar, but after a brief pause, he nods his head. “The Tussoll shot me with a poisoned arrow.” He clears his throat. “If not for my amoris, I do not know if I would have recovered.” He exhanges glances with me and I can feel the warmth in his gaze as it sweeps over me.
After the medic asks a couple of more pointed questions, he declares that Draggar is well on his way to a full recovery.
As we continue on our ramble through the village, two young boys begin to trail alongside us. I recognize one of them as the boy who screamed when he saw me earlier. At first, they’re shy and they watch me with wary, but curious expressions. As the minutes pass, Draggar’s teasing puts them at ease and they flock around us. They clamber around and watch him with something that looks a lot like hero worship, and I feel a rush of pride swell my chest. He really is something special.
The boys are adorable with full cheeks and bright smiles, but I notice they lack the thick ridges I’ve seen on the older Laediriians. When I ask, Draggar explains that children slowly develop the thick protective ridges throughout childhood and they’re not completely formed until adulthood. They also don’t have full-camouflage abilities until they’re grown. I’m not sure of the boys’ ages, but one looks to be about the same age as Zoe with the other one being a little older, and my heart gives a pang at the thought of the little girl.
Draggar bends down and allows the smaller boy to clamber onto his back for a piggyback ride, and I cannot stop smiling as he eventually ends up giving the other boy a ride on his shoulders as we walk through the village.
We end our tour back close to the center of the village at a building that I didn’t notice before. It’s larger and more ornate than the others and it’s made entirely of black stone with intricate engravings. The bioluminescent vines hang from the eaves like Christmas lights, and a heavy wooden door with molded details shields the entrance.
The boys come to a stop a few feet away from the door and watch us with eyes bright with curiosity. The excited stream of chatter they’ve kept up falls silent and expectant, and I realize that this building must be a really special place to the tribe.
Maybe it’s like a temple or holy place or something. Their species probably has those.
Draggar opens the thick door and escorts me through it with a large hand against my back and I shiver in the quiet stillness of the room.
The large, airy room has windows along two walls that let in a steady stream of light from the the moons and the glowing vines that chases away any shadows that might be lurking. The wooden floor and even the walls shine in the light and an herbal scent lets me know that the room has been recently cleaned. Wooden benches are placed strategically around the room.
Finally, my gaze lands on the objects in the center of the room and I gasp in amazement. It’s not a shrine or anything else like I expected, but I really should have. After all, Draggar told me about them.
In the middle of the room are two clear tubes that sit on metal bases. Each tube is filled with blue liquid that gives off a bright luminous glow. One of the tubes contains what looks like a small creature.
These are the artificial wombs the tribe uses to reproduce.
I carefully cross to them, my breath held in reverent silence, and I study the fetus inside the tube. It looks nearly fully formed with fingers and toes and even little pointy ears. Its skin is translucent allowing me to see the dark lines of blood vessels running through it, and I suddenly realize that for all the enormity of the Laediriians I’ve seen, this fetus looks smaller than even a human baby. As I stare, it twitches and I would almost swear it tilts its head towards me.
I turn to Draggar and notice he’s come to a halt beside me with his gaze squarely fixed on the artificial womb in front of us.
“It is my brother’s.” He grimaces and I can feel the grief that descends over him. “Was my brother’s.”
“Your brother?” I move closer to him and link hands with him. His entire concentration is focused on the tube and its contents, and for a moment, I’m not sure if he heard me or if he even remembers that I am here.
Finally, he nods and squeezes my hand. “Danir. He died not long after depositing his seed in the womb.”
I want to ask how his brother died, but it’s clear that Draggar misses his brother very much and he is still dealing with his loss. So, I wait, letting him take as much time as he needs. We stand there in silence until finally a shudder goes through him and he begins to tell me about his brother.
“Danir enjoyed hiking up the mountain. He said he liked the view of the land and feeling closer to the sky.” He smiles sadly. “He was always climbing things when we were kitlings. Trees, huts. When he was a small kitling, our father found him sitting on the roof of our hut one day. He declared he was planning to live up there. He even tried to move his bed to the roof.” He huffs out a laugh before quickly growing somber again.
“We found him at the base of the mountain. I don’t know if he had an accident or what, but his body was. . . it was crushed. He was almost unrecognizable.” Draggar looks down at the floor for a silent moment, the muscle in his jaw clenching. When he raises his gaze to meet mine, my chest clenches with the agony clouding his eyes. “He was my younger brother. I should have been with him. I could have saved him.” Pain clogs his throat as silent tears trickle down his cheeks. Seeing this big, strong warrior wearing his emotions on his sleeve makes me crumble, and I pull him into a hug.
He goes into my arms easily and buries his face against my neck, hot tears spilling on my skin. I run my hands up and down his back and murmur soothing words, trying in any way I can to ease the hurt and sadness he feels. I wish I could take it all away and make everything better, but I can’t. Only time will lessen the grief he feels.
We stand like that for a long time, until finally a hard shudder wracks his frame and he pulls back to gaze at me. Wet tracks streak down his sculpted face, but his eyes are molten gold. I’ve learned over the last few days that whenever he feels strong emotions, his eyes change and the gold flecks expand until they drown out the silver.
He presses a long, gentle kiss to my lips that is so different from the hot, passionate ones we’ve exchanged so far, but somehow, it’s the best kiss, yet. It sounds completely cheesy, but it’s almost like our spirits are embracing, too, while we kiss. This spirit mate stuff is really intense.
When we pull back from each other, I’m breathless and dizzy with a warmth centered in my chest. It slowly spreads out to my limbs and leaves me feeling like I’m glowing. It’s a sensation that is quickly becoming familiar and I’m hooked on it.
But I have more important things to do right now. Draggar is hurting and feels guilt for his brother’s death, and it’s not in my nature to let anyone I care about hurt.
I cup his face with my hands and tell him, “You couldn’t have known your brother would die that day. No one could. Accidents are just that. . . they’re accidents and it’s no one’s fault. You brother sounds like he enjoyed life to the fullest and he was doing what he loved. He wouldn’t want you bear the brunt of guilt for his death. He would want you to live life to the fullest, just like he did. He would want you to be happy.”
I take a deep breath and plunge ahead. “When I was a kid, my mother died from cancer. It was just me and my dad after that. He tried his hardest to both my mom and my dad. He was my rock. Then, just after I graduated college, my dad was on his way to help me move into my first apartment. He was in a car accident. He died.” I don’t know if all of my words are translating correctly to Draggar, but he seems to be following along with my story.
I frown as my thoughts drift back to those days. “I blamed myself for both of their deaths. If only I had been a better kid, not acted out, gotten better grades. Maybe my mom would have had time to go to the doctor more and maybe the cancer would have been caught sooner. If only I had been with my dad in the car, maybe I would have been able to stop the accident from happening. Or maybe if I just hadn’t asked for his help. But maybes are nothing more than a figment of our imagination. We can’t go back and change the past. All we can do is keep moving forward and cherish all of the good memories we had with them. And if we do that, they’ll always stay alive in our hearts and minds.”
I don’t know if my words have made a difference, but he nods and I swear I can see some of the heavy guilt visibly leave him and a glimmer of hope begins to grow inside me.
Draggar takes a long look at the artificial womb before turning back to me, his gaze thoughtful. “When my brother’s kitling emerges, I would like to raise him as my own.” Optimism shines from his eyes. “But only if my mate is agreeable.”
I open my mouth and start to reply, but he makes a noise in his throat and rubs his thumb over my lips. “I would like for you to take your time before you decide. I want you to be completely sure before you give me your answer. It is a big decision.”
My thoughts race as I nod at him. He’s right. It is a big decision. Not only would I have a mate, but a child, too. A child that I’ve only recently admitted to myself that I want.
An alien mate and an alien child.
If someone had told me a year ago – hell, a month ago – that I’d be faced with a decision like this, I would have asked them what drugs they were on.