Chapter 16
Halley
Iwatch as Eot helps Rin onto the back of a bimor, one of those camel-lizard animals.
She’s dwarfed by her mount, for all that she’s as tall as me.
Which goes to show how huge the bimors really are up close.
Aside from carrying Keelo, Eot and Rin, each of the three mounts has saddlebags filled with supplies—food, water, bedrolls.
The farmer is talking with Keelo, although I can’t hear what they’re saying from my position at the top of the spaceship’s ramp.
What I didn’t realize last night, but which has become alarmingly obvious in the light of this new day, is how unwell the farmer is.
He’s got one arm in a sling, and one thigh wrapped in bandages.
There are deep hollows under his eyes, and gouges across his neck and shoulders, which appear to have needed stitches.
To make matters worse, he’s limping, keeping the majority of his weight off one leg.
If those injuries are the work of our neighborhood trikon, I can see why the farmer is outsourcing the hunt to professionals.
Equipped with axes and the ability to body meld into a giant, Keelo and Eot are infinitely more suited to the hunt.
That being said, a hunt is clearly no place for a child. Which is why I offered to watch Rin—so that she could stay behind where it’s relatively safe—but neither Eot nor Keelo listened to my suggestion. Evidently they trust me with their ship more than they trust me with their kid.
Not that I could steal their spaceship even if I knew how to fly it.
They’ve locked most of the internal doors, including the door to the cockpit.
The only one that automatically slides open for me now is the door to the mess hall, which means I’ve got access to the central corridor and to food and water, but that’s it.
Honestly, I’m grateful they’re not locking me out entirely. Keelo and Eot are under no obligation to feed or shelter me. But I suppose even Keelo’s threats of not letting me stay don’t extend to them abandoning me in the middle of a desert when there’s only a single homestead in sight.
It’s when they return in three days’ time that I’m liable to be dropped back at the market or at some other nearby settlement. Which, if I’m being honest, was the other reason I suggested they leave Rin with me for three days—so I could prove to them I’m more helpful on board than back at Xile’s.
I scrub my face with a shaky hand.
Eot hands Rin her mount’s reins, putting the left-hand side into her right hand and the right-hand side into her left, creating an X shape.
From what I can see at this distance, the bridle doesn’t go in the animal’s mouth.
Rather, there’s a padded rope looped under the bimor’s jaw to which the reins attach.
Eot demonstrates how to steer, and when the bimor takes a few lumbering steps forward, Rin gasps, drops the reins and grabs onto the front of the saddle.
I wince. It’s clear she’s scared of falling, which is understandable considering how high off the ground she’s sitting. A fall could really hurt her.
“Are there no hard hats on Lyd?” I demand, striding down the ramp to Eot’s side. This close, the bimor looks even bigger. The top of my head isn’t level with the lowest point of its back. Which makes sense when you consider that two of them have to carry Keelo and Eot, and they’re not small men.
“Akh…” Eot wrinkles his nose. “Those words don’t translate.”
“Protective headgear. A helmet. Something to stop her skull from cracking open when she falls.” I whisper that last part, not wanting Rin to hear.
Eot looks up at Rin, seems to judge the distance between her head and the ground, and lifts her gently back down. “A helmet,” he agrees.
“I want one too.”
“You...are coming?” He glances over his shoulder at Keelo, still in conversation with the farmer.
“Yes. Rin and I can fit in the same saddle. She’ll be safer with me holding on to her.” I pat the bimor’s side, gently stroking her scales. They feel a little creepy, like I’m petting a massive goanna, but I keep my expression friendly, pretending I’m enjoying myself.
The last thing I want is to spend three days traveling through the desert.
And do I actually want to win this argument? Yes and no. Crossing a desert under the scorching heat of two summer suns sounds like an absolute nightmare. Made all the worse by the added risk of us being turned into one of those mummified animals pegged to the fence.
However, it does make more sense for me to insist on coming. Three days in the desert are three days during which time I can prove how useful I am.
And I honestly am a little worried that without me something might happen to Rin. Not from a lack of effort on the guys’ behalf. But it’s becoming painfully obvious that they barely know what they’re doing.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think I’m better at caring for a child because I’m a woman. I think I’m better at it because I’m not simultaneously also planning a hunt.
“I’m not sure…” Eot casts Keelo another glance.
“Please,” I wheedle, using my best you can trust me voice.
“The two of you are going to be much too busy. I can care for Rin. I’ll even promise to jump in front of her and use myself as a human shield if need be.
” An experience, however terrifying, which still sounds preferable to returning to Xile’s.
“Do you know how to ride?”
No. “Yes, I’m great on horseback. I mean, bimorback. The best rider in my family.” Which is possibly true. As far as I know, Mom’s never ridden before. And my dad…well, he could be dead for all the effort he put into contacting me, and the dead can’t ride.
“Fine,” Eot says. “A helmet for you, too.”
“Yay.” But when I move to follow him and Rin back into the ship, Keelo steps in front of me.
“You’re not coming,” he growls, and he crosses thick arms over his broad chest, shoulders wide enough that I can barely see around him to the ship behind.
Physically, Eot and Keelo are startlingly similar. Personality wise, they’re complete opposites.
“Why not?” I don’t understand what Keelo’s problem is with me. Other than the fact I used Rin to wheedle my way aboard his ship, and surely a person should be forgiven for a little selfishness in such extenuating circumstances?
Perhaps if he’s got to explain himself, he’ll notice how unreasonable he’s being and withdraw his objections.
“I don’t trust you.”
“Perfect.” I brighten. “Three days’ travel is exactly what we need to get to know each other.”
He gives me a long look.
“I’ll prove myself trustworthy.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
“It never is. I relish a challenge. You’ll see. In three days’ time we’ll be great friends.”
“No.”
It takes a lot of self-control not to roll my eyes. Now he’s being stubborn for stubbornness’ sake. It’s like arguing with a brick wall.
“Think about what I’m offering. Free babysitting. That usually costs twenty bucks an hour.”
“No.”
“Then imagine how much time you’ll have to tell me, in great detail, about how you don’t trust me. You’ll enjoy yourself.” It’s a low blow—against myself—but I’m running out of ideas. “It’ll be fun.”
His “no” isn’t so much as spoken out loud as a dark look in his eyes.
Whatever. “I am coming. Eot agreed.” I sidestep Keelo, but for such a big guy he’s surprisingly fast, and he blocks me again.
“Eot isn’t in charge.”
“Are you?” I demand.
There’s a pause, and I actually see the moment when he clenches his teeth, the already-sharp line of his jaw tightening.
“That’s what I thought.” I took a risk, guessing that Eot calling Keelo his other half last night meant that neither one of them is the boss of the other.
And risks, I’m starting to learn, sometimes pay off.
I got away from Xile’s. I might even have a way to leave Lyd for good.
For the first time this month, my life is actually going to plan.
“It’s okay,” I tell Keelo, patting one massive bicep and trying hard not to notice how much like patting a stone statue it feels. “You can survive my company for three days. For Rin’s sake. That’s all I want—to keep her safe.”