Chapter Ten

Darq

 

“It looks like we’ll be going to the meeting place,” I said.

“Yay!” Sunny clapped her hands.

To my dismay, Moctad dawned bright and cloudless. The snow I’d scented had failed to appear, and having promised a trip to the meeting place, I couldn’t refuse. I couldn’t fault her desire to contact her kin. If I’d left Torg and my clan to travel across the galaxy, I’d suffer from homesickness, too. The past few days, my mate had seemed distracted. Perhaps speaking to her sister and nephew would relax her.

Maybe then our relationship would flourish. Her behavior confused me. She’d gaze at me with desire in her eyes, but when she became aware of my scrutiny, she would look away and busy herself with some task. I had hoped we could mesh mouths some more, but when we retired to our kels, she bade me a good night and rolled away from me.

She had requested time. Time for what? If she desired me, and I desired her, what was the problem?

Communicating with her family required contact with Andrea. I risked discovery by going to the meeting place, but I didn’t see a way around it.

“Wait here,” I said. “I’ll get us a skimmer.”

“Okay! I’ll get ready.”

I tromped to the shed where we kept the vehicles. I didn’t understand why a skimmer meant to travel through the snow needed to be kept out of the snow when it wasn’t in use, but the Terrans said it did. However, when I got to the shed, both machines had already been borrowed.

I sprinted to the cave. Sunny was bundled up in her kel and boots. Torg and Starr had risen and were eating breakfast. “There aren’t any skimmers available.” I tried to sound disappointed. We won’t be able to go today, after all. I’m sorry.”

Torg snorted. “You are growing soft! The meeting place is two tripta away. Walk.”

Even Starr made a face. “Yeah, that’s about five kilometers.”

Sunny said, “Heck, I walked farther than that through a leech-infested swamp.”

“There are no leeches, but there is snow on the ground. And we will have to hike back as well.”

“You don’t want to take me?” She looked at me.

“No, no,” I lied. I felt terrible. I allowed guilt and fear to supersede caring for my mate. “If you can handle the walk, we’ll go. Do you have your mittens?”

“Right here.” She pulled them from her pocket.

“Let me get a few things, and we’ll be off.” I ducked into the storeroom. Torg and I had made some knives and carved some animal totems. I shoved them into a pack and then entered the main room. “Let’s go,” I said.

“See you later!” Sunny waved and bounded outside.

Smoke wafted from huts. Skimmer tracks exited the camp, but not toward the meeting place. Three insects followed us into the woods, zipping along the tree line. Our footsteps crunched over old knee-deep snow, and our breath fogged the frigid air. “Are you warm enough?”

“Toasty,” she replied. She’d wrapped a cloth around her face, leaving her eyes visible beneath the hood of her kel. “Thank you for taking me.”

“You’re welcome.”

A clump of snow fell from the treetops to land on my head. I shook it off. Sunny’s giggle lightened my mood. My actions had set a challenging course, but I desired to please her, to bring her happiness. Her sacrifice of her home world and family did not go unappreciated. Anything I could do for her, I would do. “Do you recognize any of this?” I asked.

She shook her head. “We’re going the same way, then?”

“Yes. Two paths lead to the meeting place. One is easy; the other is hard. I assumed you’d prefer the easy one.”

“We’re on a path?” She looked around.

“Of course. It’s just buried.” I chuckled. “After you’ve hiked this way a few times, you’ll recognize the signs.” I pointed to a tree trunk split into three forks. “There. That is the one of the markers.

“It is easy to become disoriented and get lost so you must always stay on the trail,” I cautioned. “The ground can be unstable. Many underground caverns are located around our camp. Snow hides the openings, and if you stray off the path, you could fall in. No one would be able to find you.” My heart clenched. Another tribe had lost a kit. His bones were not found until two thaws later.

“I’ll take the path. You can count on it,” she said.

“You shouldn’t travel alone in any case. I can’t foresee a circumstance when I wouldn’t come with you, but if I was away for some reason, you must travel with another person. Our land and climate is harsh; numbers provide safety.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Do you have wild animals?”

“All our animals are wild, except for the harebits, which can be domesticated. Sometimes kits will make pets of them.”

“What’s a harebit?”

“It’s an animal with big hind feet, a long tail, long ears, and whiskers.”

“Sounds like a cross between a cat and a rabbit,” she said.

“I don’t know what those are.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “What I meant was, are there any dangerous wild animals? Like saber-toothed tigers or bears? Predators.” She scowled as an insect flew close to her face.

In the bright sunlight, its body gleamed unnaturally. It had to have come from Terra. Other than the ones following us, I’d never seen such creatures before.

“Some larger birds will attack smaller ones and harebits, but you are too big for them to bother with. Kel are not predators, but if you approach, they’ll charge, and they can gore you with their horns,” I explained. The asteroid had devastated our ecosystem, wiping out many species and most of the larger ones, which included the predators. If not for the survival of the kel, which provided us with food and clothing, we would have perished, too.

“So, I don’t need to worry about getting eaten, only about falling into a pit.”

“And getting caught in a sudden blizzard and getting lost and dying of exposure.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re welcome.”

A smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re laughing at me,” I said.

“I wouldn’t do that.” She slipped her arm through mine. Heat surged despite the layers of our kels. Since the mouth-meshing, she had avoided physical contact.

She hugged my arm and released me, stepping away, while I tried not to show how much her spontaneous gesture affected me. “I hope you won’t mind, but if it’s okay with you, I’ll drop you off at the lodge,” I said, casually. “While you’re talking to your family, I can take care of some business.” Andrea would be at the lodge; I had to avoid her seeing me in case it jogged her memory.

“Oh no, I don’t mind at all!” she said with surprising alacrity. “What kind of business do you have?”

I shrugged the pack on my shoulders. “I brought a few items for barter at the trading post.” There wasn’t anything I needed, other than an excuse to dodge Andrea. “I’ll also notate our mating in the record book.”

She bit her lip. “You need to do that, huh?”

“The declaration is what sanctions us as a mated pair,” I explained. Until the final step, our mating wasn’t official. I had to get our names in that book—but avoid being high on the list where they would stand out. By now, many couples would have already recorded their mating, so it should be safe.

“What happens if a couple gets a divorce or an annulment?”

“I don’t understand those words.”

“Do couples ever break up?”

We had so few females, that if a male had the good fortune to get one, he did everything in his power to please her and keep her. “I can’t recall that ever happening—well, except for Icha and her mates.”

“Icha—is that the woman who poisoned Starr?”

“That’s her. She has had several mates and is known to share her favors with men she is not mated to.”

“Ah! She’s the tribe good-time girl.”

“I don’t think she’s having a good time. Men need her for what she provides, but I suspect most of them don’t like her.” If they had options, they wouldn’t pick Icha.

“Have you utilized her services?” Sunny’s sharp tone sliced through the quiet of the wood.

“She never offered herself to me. She was more interested in Torg.”

“Would you have, if you’d had the opportunity?”

“Proba—” I glanced at Sunny whose eyes had narrowed and reconsidered my answer. “No.”

“It has nothing to do with me, anyway.” A harebit ran across the path and dove into the brush. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked.

“If you think it’s a harebit, it is.”

“I guessed right! It does look like a cross between a cat and a rabbit. Mostly rabbit.”

“I should have brought traps. We could have had harebit for dinner.” I could have set them up on the way to the meeting place and checked them on the way home.

“Aw…” Sunny wrinkled her nose. “I know where food comes from—and clothing.” She plucked at the sleeve of her kel. “But, I would have trouble hunting and trapping. Killing. Do Dakonian women hunt?”

“Some do—but they don’t have to, because their mates are more than willing to take care of them.”

“Does Icha hunt?”

“Yes.”

“Given she isn’t permanently mated, and Torg is, if I wasn’t here, is she someone you would be interested in?”

“How can I answer that? You are here.” I shrugged. Another harebit darted across the path.

“Hypothetically—if I wasn’t.”

“No.”

“You sound emphatic.”

An insect hovered so close to my face I could see the red bead of its single eye. As I marched forward, it flew backward, keeping pace. My palm itched to grab it, but I’d promised, and instead, Sunny swatted at it. “Get out of here! Leave him alone!”

My mate was fierce. How could I ever consider another, even hypothetically?

Once, I might have considered Icha out of convenience. But now? No. “After having met you, there could never be another,” I told her. If something were to happen to Sunny, Icha would be cold consolation. I pitied her, but lie with her? No. Not now.

“We haven’t, um, consummated our relationship yet,” Sunny said.

“We will—when the time is right,” I spoke confidently, but my body ached with desire. I hoped the right time would happen soon.

A flock of squawking, soaring phea shadowed the ground. Two harebits, the birds. I’d spotted kel tracks, too. I inhaled the chill air. “A storm is on the way.” Fortunately, we’d almost reached the meeting place.

“How do you know?”

“I smell it in the air. Plus, the animals are active and have come out to feed.”

She sniffed. “I smell trees—and kel hide.” Her hood fell off as she tilted her head. “There’s not a cloud in the sky.”

“The climate favors snow. Clouds form and move swiftly. I don’t want to rush you, but let’s not tarry.”

We smelled the smoke from the lodge before it came into view, but then we rounded the bend and the meeting place sprawled out: a big stone lodge separated from a half ring of smaller stone huts by a large field.

“I had expected to see people, but nobody’s here.” She glanced around.

“There usually isn’t,” I explained. “Each tribe is self-sufficient and autonomous. Unless the tribal council is meeting, it’s rare for a large crowd to convene. But it looks like Andrea has arrived.”

A single skimmer was parked outside the lodge.

“I’m going to those two huts.” I pointed out the trading post, the hall of records. “If you finish early”—I doubted she would—“look for me there. Otherwise, I’ll meet you in the tavern.” I motioned to another hut.

The insects circled over our heads.

“Sounds like a plan,” she agreed. “Thank you, for this.” She stood on tiptoes, pressed her lips to my cheek, and then ran for the lodge. Two insects flew after her, but she got to the lodge first, pushed through the flaps, and shut them out. They whirled outside the door, almost angrily. Odd.

I hiked to the hall of records with the third one following me.

Until the Terrans had arrived, few matings had occurred, and there’d been even fewer births. Now there were several pages of names. Soon, Torg and Starr would add their baby to the list of births, and, one day, I hoped to enter our child’s name. I flipped to the matings and ran my finger down the list. Sixty-two new entries. Perfect. Others would add their names after ours, and we would be in the middle—official, but not obvious.

I dipped a phea quill into a pot of ink made from kel fat and ash, and scribed our names and the date. I inhaled a deep breath of satisfaction.

The insect swooped in and hovered over the tome.

I tapped a finger beside our entry, taking care not to smear it since the ink hadn’t dried. “Sunny and I are officially mated,” I said to the insect. It bobbed up and down as if encouraging me to continue. As silly as I felt for speaking to it, the import of the ritual needed words. Sunny should have been here with me. “Nothing can separate us now. We were meant to be together.” I blew on the ink then closed the book.

I peered into the trading post but didn’t see anything I wanted, so I left the items I’d brought and went to the tavern to wait. I poured an ale and parked at one of the tables.

The insect looked at me with its red eye. I saluted it with my glass then took a sip of ale. Already, I’d grown accustomed to having my mate at my side, and though she was only across the field—I could walk there and be with her—loneliness pressed in on me. I missed her. “This is what my life would be like without Sunny,” I said. “We have not known each other very long, but she means everything to me.”

The insect bobbed, and I found myself pouring out my heart.