by Ruby Dixon
U'dron looks at me, puzzled. "Because they are outcast clan."
"So?"
He frowns. "So…they are outcast clan."
"I don't know what you mean by that. Did he…do something bad? Is he a criminal?" The word sticks in my throat, and I think about all of my secrets and how I'd get treated if they found out who I really was. "Are they being punished for something?"
"No…they are outcast. They are born without clan markings and therefore they are not real people." He shrugs and pokes at the fire with the butt of his spear, shifting the logs. "Anyone that is outcast is carried out to their village and must live with them instead of the true clans."
I stare at him, aghast. "You don't believe that, do you? That they're not people? Just because they weren't born with big horns?"
U'dron shrugs. "It is what I was raised to believe. I have not given it much thought beyond that."
I look over at Pak and Dad. In some ways, they look just like the other aliens from the island—they change colors with their camouflage. They have similar builds and the same different facial structure, the prominent cheekbones and nose without plating, features large but somehow still delicate. I think of Pak's stubby little tail, and Dad's small horns and puff of hair that sticks up like an anime character. They wear leaves. They know what fire is. They raft. They even speak—just not to me.
Of course they're people.
And they deserve to get warm by the fire, too. Dad kidnapped me—I think. Or maybe he just drugged me so I wouldn't fight him as he got me out of the water-filled cave? I don't know and of course I can't ask him. He wasn't unkind to me, though. He never groped me or made me feel unsafe. We just had…differing opinions. He wanted me to go with them; I did not.
Doesn't mean that they're not people.
"So…people are outcast at birth?" I ask U'dron, trying to keep my voice light. "Because they don't match your clan characteristics?"
He nods, kneeling in the sand and making a cooking tripod out of some of the driftwood. "Each clan is proudly known by the spirit that chooses them at birth. When someone is born without that spirit, they are outcast."
"Like if a kid is born without the big horns, or the fur like you have." I gesture at his forearm. It's the biggest indicator.
"Shadow Cat is born with the spirit of the cat," he tells me, spreading his hand, and I see the claws tipping his fingers. Right. Those and the biggest fangs amongst the group.
"So if I don't have fangs or horns, I'm not in one of your clans, right?"
"You have not been chosen by the spirit of our ancestors, correct."
"You do realize you just described me and every other human on the beach?" I cross my arms over my chest. "Going by your rules—which are gross and wrong, by the way—you can't talk to me, either."
He frowns at me. "That is…different."
"Why, because I'm human?" I shake my head. "You need to talk to Devi about dominant and recessive genes," I tell him, getting to my feet. "It's not Pak's fault he wasn't born with big horns or claws. So what, now he has to eat raw fish for the rest of his life and not talk to me because you feel like he's flawed?"
"It is tradition," U'dron says stiffly. "I did not make the rules."
"But this is our beach and our new land," I tell him. "We can make new rules. People shouldn't have the past held against them." God, maybe I'm so defensive because I'm thinking of myself here. "We can start fresh. The rules that applied in other places—especially wrongheaded, stupid ones—don't have to apply here. We're all people." And I gather the furs tighter around my body and leave the fire.
U'dron jumps to his feet. "R'ven? Where are you going?"
"To invite them to come sit with us. Because they're people and they should be able to get warm, too."
"He stole you," U'dron growls.
"No, he didn't. I think he was helping me. You can ask him about it when he comes and sits with us." I march over to where Dad and Pak are waiting, wary expressions on their faces. Pak's little body isn't shivering, but his skin is prickled with goosebumps, and I suspect he and his dad are terribly cold. It might not kill them, but it still sucks. I take one of the layers off my shoulders and gently drape it around Pak, tucking it around his little body. "Come and sit by the fire," I say in a soft voice, gesturing at the warmth.
They don't move.
I turn around to look at U'dron, and I'm not surprised to see that he's followed me. "Will you please invite them? They can't understand me."
U'dron nods. If he disagrees with me, he doesn't show it. Instead, he gestures at Dad and Pak. "There is room at our fire for both of you. Join us."
Dad hesitates. "We are outcast clan."
"Tell him that shit doesn't matter anymore," I hiss at U'dron.
He nods, once. "We left clans behind on the warm shores," U'dron says. "In this new land, we are all equals. Join us and you can tell us how you survived the death of the Great Smoking Mountain."
6
U'DRON
R'ven carries the little one over to the fire, and when he sits near the warmth, the look on his face is one of dazed pleasure. It strikes me in the heart with guilt. How did I not realize that the kit needs warmth just as much as a fragile human? Shame washes over me, and I gesture for the outcast male to join us, to sit next to his son.
"I have enough food for all of us," I say as they are seated.
R'ven beams at me, as if I am the kindest male she has ever seen. She has such a giving, understanding heart, this female. This male stole her away and all she can think of is that he and his son need caring for. Her reaction just adds to my shame. In her eyes, we are all people. We are not separated by clan. The hyoo-mans do not care about the size of our horns, and they do not protest when they are mated to Strong Arm or Tall Horn. They are glad to have a mate, and glad to have a people. I think of the group back on the beach. There are three clans, all of us very different, and then there are the ones that came from the stars. There are the hyoo-mans and the sa-khui tribe. There is even a golden male who turns into a winged creature called a “dragon.”
There are so many different peoples, and all are welcome. Why not outcasts? We are no longer on the island, as R'ven has pointed out. The rules of our ancestors do not apply.
I think of my proving, and how in the eyes of my tribe, I am not a hunter. It has affected me and bothered me all these turns of the seasons, and for what? So I can hunt as a “true” male? It will not make me catch fish faster, or hunt dvisti any quicker than I already do. Game will not flock to my traps simply because they know I am a true hunter.
It is just another rule, one that should have no meaning in this new world we find ourselves in.
I pull out the pouch of rations and take out several strips of dried meat, offering them to R'ven first and then the kit. I can hear the father's stomach growl as the scent of the food nears him, but he settles the boy in his lap and makes sure that his child eats before taking a portion for himself. I save the food for them, keeping none for myself. "I do not have shrimp for the tea," I tell them. "But I do have leaves."
"Any tea would be wonderful," R'ven says, voice sweet.
I add my tea leaves to the pouch heating over the fire, stirring with a finger. Not quite hot yet. I glance over at the kit, who is devouring strips of dried fish with happy smacks of his lips. "He is a fine son," I say to the stranger. "What is he called?"
The father touches the boy's mane, stroking it back from his face, a thoughtful expression on his features. "He is Pak. I am called Juth."
I hide my wince.
"Those are great names," R'ven gushes in her hyoo-man tongue. "Tell them they're welcome to stay by the fire with us as long as they don't put it out." She smiles at them both. "Pak and Juth."
The male flashes an uneasy look at me. No doubt he has picked up something from R'ven's cheery tone and does not understand. Their names are not honored ones. If they were, they would be J'th or J'uth, P'akh or P'kh. Their names have no honorable
cadence, and it is just another way that they are marked as different.
R'ven does not see this, though, and so I try not to, also. I dip the carved cup I use for traveling into the tea, and then offer it to R'ven, who takes it and sips the hot liquid, then offers it to the kit. The boy drinks with both hands on the cup and wrinkles his small nose, as if he has never had a warm drink before and does not know what to make of it. He offers it to his father, who shakes his head.
When R'ven takes the cup again and gives me an impatient look, I speak. "R'ven says you have good names. Where is your mate?"
The male called Juth points at R'ven.
R'ven coughs and sputters, even as I jump to my feet, hot jealousy surging through me. "You resonated?"
"What?" R'ven chokes, shaking her head. "No!"
"She is mine," Juth states with a stubborn look on his face. "The law of the beach states that I can claim whatever washes up."
I stop myself from snarling. Barely. "She is not yours to claim."
"That's right," R'ven says. "You tell him." She gives Juth an indignant look. "To think I stuck up for you."
"I found the female in a cave," Juth continues.
R'ven gasps. "You snuck up behind me and put leaves over my mouth and made me pass out! That's a little different!"
"Mine," Juth says plainly.
"Bitch, I will cut your heart out of your chest if you even try it," R'ven snarls, her voice losing the sweetness. Both Juth and I look at her in surprise. Her face flushes, and she gestures at me. "Tell him that he can't just claim a girl."
"She is not yours to claim," I repeat. "No one can claim a hyoo-man female. They must be resonated to or choose to go to a male's furs."
"And fuck you if you think I'm going anywhere with you," R'ven adds hotly. "Jesus. This is what I get for being nice." She dips the cup in the tea again and hands it to Pak, glaring at his father. "Tell this kid his dad sucks."
I bite back a smile. R'ven's indignant response makes my jealousy ease, and I relax a little. I am surprised that the outcast made me so very angry with his words. I have not felt jealousy over a female before. It is a new sensation, and I am not certain I like it. There have been many pretty, interesting females on the beach since we arrived, but I told myself they were not for me. Even so, I grew attached to R'ven and began to imagine her as my own.
Of course she has not resonated to Juth. He already has a child. He would have a mate, as well, though perhaps she did not survive the Great Smoking Mountain's second death.
Juth gives me a sly look. "She should be outcast, should she not? The female has no horns, she has no strong arms, and she has no claws or tail. That makes her one of my people, not yours."
"We're all the same people." R'ven presses her fingertips to her temples. "This man's logic is giving me a headache."
"Why does she babble strange words?" Pak asks, chewing on another mouthful of food. "Is something wrong with her head?"
"She is a hyoo-man," I explain to them. "They are a different people, and they speak a different tongue. And because she is hyoo-man, the law of the beach no longer holds here." I ignore Juth's scowl, confident in my words. "We are no longer on the islands. Just as you are no longer outcast, that law does not hold. You can join our new clan on the beach, but you cannot claim a female."
"Tell him there are other women on the beach," R'ven says. "He can't have me."
"You would give him another, then?" I turn to her, amused at how readily she offers up her friends.
She scoffs. "No. But he can hang around them and see if he resonates. At the very least, get a pair of pants." She flicks her fingers at him.
"He will not resonate. He has a son already."
"You speak of us?" Juth asks, gaze flicking back and forth between R'ven and myself. "Pak is not my son by resonance. He is my son because we are the only ones left in outcast clan."
"Aw," Raven says, her expression softening. "Well now I almost feel bad. Almost." She leans over toward Pak and Juth. "You can come home with us." She staggers her words, her volume increasing as if that will somehow make them understand her, and I bite back a smile of amusement. "You're safe now. SAFE."
Juth just blinks at her in that blank way of his. He turns back to me. "Is she your female, then?"
R'ven makes a frustrated sound in her throat, but I only smile. My female? I wish she was. "She does not belong to anyone."
A wily look crosses the outcast's face. "That is where you are wrong. I found her on the beach. She is mine. It is the law."
R'ven gives me a cross scowl. "Really starting to dislike this guy."
"It is mere stubbornness," I tell her, unwilling to get riled up at Juth's words. He is not taking R'ven, no matter what he thinks. I will put a stop to that. "He wishes to barter, that is all."
"That better be all." She hugs the furs closer to her chest and glares at Juth.
Juth watches us both as we talk, his eyes narrowed. "Why is it that she babbles nonsense but you can understand her? And she can understand you?"
"The hyoo-mans have different words than we do," I explain to him. "One of the males from the stars put a pebble in my head and gave it magic, and that is how I can understand her."
"A pebble in your head?" Juth is openly skeptical. "In your ear?"
A snort distracts me. I look over at R'ven, who has a hand pressed to her mouth, her shoulders shaking. At first, I worry she is weeping, but a snicker escapes her and I realize she is laughing at us. I mock-kick sand on her feet, because we are friends. "What is so funny?"
"A pebble?" She giggles. "Did you really think Mardok put rocks in your head?" Her eyes shine with tears of laughter.
I do not know if I am pleased that she is comfortable enough to laugh, or I am wounded that she is laughing at me. "What was it, then?"
"A chip! A translation chip!"
I frown. I do not understand her laughter. "What is a chip if not a pebble that comes off a rock?"
"It's not a rock! Why would a rock make you understand languages?"
"Because it is magic?"
R'ven giggles again, shaking her head. "It's technology. The chip is a tiny computer that is programmed to take in what you're hearing and translate it for you."
I do not understand most of the words she is saying. I still think it is magic, but I do not push it further. I do not want her laughing at me again just because I am not smart. I turn to Juth. "You say she is yours. What do you want in exchange for her?"
"You wish to trade for her? To keep her for yourself?"
R'ven's chuckles of laughter stop and she looks over at me, wide-eyed. "What—"
"Yes," I say flatly. I will not keep her for myself, no matter how badly I might want R'ven as my mate. I am not a “true” hunter so I cannot take a mate. But Juth does not need to know such things. "Speak and tell me what you want in exchange for her."
The look on his face becomes canny, like that of a scavenger used to living off the fringes. "A mate is a priceless thing. If I give her to you, then there is no mate for me."
"Perhaps there are other things that are more important to you and your son," I say, gesturing at the small boy. "Food. Warm furs to wrap yourselves in. Shelter." This time, I give him my most calculating look. "Rocks to spark a fire."
"Only the elders are allowed to spark fire," he says warily, but I see that I have his attention.
"The elders of your clan are gone," I point out. "Does this not make you the elder?"
Juth rubs his chin thoughtfully and I can tell he is listening. "If this is true…how do you know I will not just grab rocks and make fire for myself, then?"
I gesture at the beach. "Go on. Take rocks and see if you can figure out how to make fire. I suspect your elders never showed you? Did they teach you what to use as fuel? How to keep it going throughout a long night?" I lean forward, my hands on my knees. "Perhaps you have noticed that this land is not much like our home. It is cold and wet, and fire is essential. How long do you think you and
your boy will last without warmth?"
"We have lasted this long." Juth gives me a proud, defiant look.
"Yes, and you are miserable for it. Your boy enjoys the fire. Look at him." I flick my hand toward Pak, who has the cup of hot tea to his lips, his small body swaddled in fur. "He needs more than you can give him. I can help with that."
The outcast looks furious at me. I know I have hurt his pride by suggesting that he cannot care for his son, but right now, he needs to realize that R'ven is coming with me one way or another. He can help himself, or he can let her go, but she is not staying with him.
R'ven gets up and moves to my side, clutching the furs close to her body. She sits next to me and leans in as if we are sharing a secret. "Tell him he can come back to the camp with us."
"What? Why?" I frown.
"Because there's plenty of food and places to sleep," R'ven says, her expression earnest. "He's got a kid with him."
"He stole you and even now bargains to keep you, and you would bring him back to the camp? Put him around the others?" I am utterly astonished at the thought. "What if he steals you again? What if he steals all of our food?"
She glances over at the kit and his father, and then back at me. There's a remoteness to her expression that startles me. "So because he did something bad when he was desperate, he deserves to be thrown out of all society forever?"
"If people do not follow the rules, how can we trust them?"
"You can't." Her tone turns sweet, and she gives me a smile that somehow does not reach her expressive eyes. "Forget I said anything at all."
R'ven moves away from me, and even though she is all smiles, I suspect that I have somehow wronged her. That I have made a mistake I cannot recover from…but what?
7
RAVEN
U'dron and the outcast Juth discuss bargaining over me. I tune out, watching Pak happily drink hot tea, eat his father's portions of the rations, and snuggle up in the blanket around his shoulders. He's a hardy little guy, but it's clear he'd do better with warm clothes and a full belly. That's not what bothers me, though. It's not even the bargaining at this point that bothers me.
