by Ruby Dixon
“Well, actually I suggested a lot of different things. The only idea he actually liked was the treasure hunt.”
I hold up the disc. “So this is part of that?”
She shrugs. “I honestly don’t know. I told him the concept - that there are clues and arrows left to point to the treasure - and didn’t hear anything else about it.”
Oh, my goodness. Is this a clue? Is the painted, sad looking squiggle supposed to be an arrow? I study the object again. Instead of seeing a crudely made object with drunken lettering, I see it for what it really is - an item lovingly made by my mate, probably while I was asleep. He made it without a lot of time to work on it, and the squiggle that should be an arrow probably looks like that because the sa-khui have no need for arrows or symbols except as decoration.
I sniff. Hard. And then I start to cry. “This is the sweetest thing ever.”
“I know,” Georgie says. She waves a finger in front of Talie’s face and smiles when the baby reaches for it. “He’s thoughtful, that man of yours.”
“He’s the best.” I mean it, too. I’m already thinking of ways I can show him that I appreciate his thoughtfulness. I’m going to have to have his favorite meal ready for when he comes home, and blend some of his favorite tea-leaves. Maybe I’ll make a new pouch for his spearheads. His favorite hood is worn through, and I can make him a new one, and…oh, there are so many things. It suddenly feels like not enough time to do everything.
“Well?” Georgie asks when I’m lost in thought.
“Well…what?” The baby kicks hard and I put a hand to my belly, momentarily confused.
She laughs. “What about the treasure hunt?”
“Oh!” I gaze down at the disc I’m clutching tight in my hand. It kind of feels like the prize all on its own. But Cashol’s put so much thought into making me happy, and I want to see what he’s done. I’ll probably weep like a crazy person over each new thing, but that’s all right, too.
It’s funny - knowing that he set this up makes me feel less alone. Like he’s here at my side even when he’s not. I feel a smile tugging at my mouth, and it feels like the first genuine one I’ve had all day. I picture Cashol bent over this ugly disc, working hard on it and anticipating setting me off on this little mini-adventure while he’s out on a real one.
“I guess I’d better start looking.” I hold up the disc-on-a-thong. “Any ideas on what this is supposed to lead me to?”
“Girl, no clue at all.”
I eye Farli, who’s sitting nearby quietly. “Do I need to search your paint pots?”
She giggles. “He borrowed them but already gave them all back.” She shakes her head. “No necklaces.”
“Oh, is this a necklace?” I study it again. Bless my mate’s heart, but it’s kind of hideous. “I thought it was like, a teacup saucer or something.”
Georgie gives me a strange look. “With a hole in the center?”
“What else could it be?”
“That’s the question of the day.” I study it again as Josie comes and thumps down next to us, a dejected look on her face. “It reminds me of donuts, actually.”
“Reminds me of a pizza cutter,” Josie chimes in, her chin resting on her hands. “Why do you have a pizza cutter?”
A pizza cutter? I touch the edge and it’s blunted, but it could easily be made sharp. Interesting. “My mate left me a treasure hunt,” I tell her. And because she looks so darn sad, I ask, “Want to help me look for the next clue?”
“Sure.”
The sa-khui are a people that don’t like to waste anything. Horns, hooves, furs, dried bladders, you name it - all of a kill can be put to use. And because even the bones are used, there’s a lot of storage. In fact, there’s an entire cave dedicated to storing items, and that’s where Josie and I find ourselves - sifting through basket after basket of cleaned, stored bones, just waiting to be carved into something useful. It’s kind of macabre, but after two years of living with the sa-khui? I’ve gotten over a lot of my squeamishness.
I’m picking through a handful of what look like dvisti ribs when Josie sighs. “What is it?” I ask.
“I miss Haeden,” she says, flinging aside a vertebrae into another basket. “It seems like he just got back and now he’s gone again.”
She’s not wrong - Haeden was gone for weeks on a trek to recover the new human women, and I feel a pang of guilt. Cashol’s been at my side the entire time. I…guess it’s been selfish of me to demand that he stay here when everyone else has to sacrifice. “You could go with him,” I suggest. “Liz goes hunting with Raahosh.”
“I suggested it.” Josie’s glum tone tells me how that conversation went. “He wants me to stay safe with the baby on the way.”
“Mmm. Well, it’s not the worst idea. Not that I think you’ll hurt yourself.” I run my hand over a long, smooth rib, debating taking it back to the cave with me. I need a new ladle and with a bit of carving, this could work well. “But give it a few months and you’ll run out of energy and you’ll be glad you’re here with the rest of us. Besides, he can probably get more done without distractions.”
“He is easily distracted,” she says dreamily.
This is getting close to TMI territory so I renew my digging into a fresh basket. I’m wearing my ugly little disc around my neck now, so I don’t lose it, and I’m growing fonder of it by the moment. I touch it often, just so I can remind myself that Cashol’s thinking of me. It helps.
“So how come Cashol finally decided to go out on a longer hunt? I thought you guys had some sort of agreement with Vektal or something.”
Did she not know that Haeden said something? Or maybe it was just a rumor. Either way, it doesn’t matter. “It was time. He needed to go out. The hunting’s gonna be hot and heavy until the winter gets here. Sorry, not winter. Brutal season. Whatever.”
“That’s what everyone keeps saying.” She pulls her basket closer and tucks it between her legs, then digs deep. “But you hate that he’s gone out, don’t you? I can tell.”
“It’s…hard.”
“Why?”
Josie’s innocent question doesn’t surprise me. She loves to talk. In fact, that’s one reason why I like her company so much - she’ll talk endlessly if given a subject, and it’s good to hear someone else fill the empty space. If it gets too quiet, I’ll start to miss Cashol even more. “For the same reason that Haeden makes you stay near the cave instead of going hunting with him, I suppose.” My basket’s turning out to be a big dud, so I brush my hands off and put it aside. “I worry.”
“That he’s going to get hurt? Haeden says Cashol’s good at hunting. A good tracker. Doesn’t have the sixth sense like Rokan does, but he can read a trail really well. But I kind of think Haeden’s one of the best hunters, so I might be biased. It’s easy to be biased when you’re mated to such a great guy.”
My lips twitch as Josie gives another dreamy sigh. Hard to believe she was cussing Haeden’s name a few short months ago. Resonance changes everything, though. Before, Cashol was just kind of…there. In the scenery. A nice guy in a sea of nice guys that wanted a mate. He’d never put the moves on me, never hit on me, but if I needed a hand with something, he was always one of the first to volunteer. That’s just how he is. He’s friendly and generous and so clever.
Great, now I’m missing him. I ignore the lonely pang that shoots through me and hoist another basket as near my protruding belly as I can. The baby’s unusually active today, constantly thumping and moving around. I give my belly a little pat and then reach into the basket. “I just worry, you know? I worry that…well, it’s like how we got here. Everything was fine and normal, and then I woke up and my world changed. Kidnapped by aliens and everything that was familiar torn away from me.” I swallow hard. “I…guess I’m worried about that happening again. About getting too comfortable, too happy, and then everything goes to hell once more.”
Because now? I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I’ve got the most wonderful mate, and
a baby on the way, and most days I’m so happy I don’t even mind that there’s no chocolate or toilet paper or shampoo on the ice planet. I can do without those as long as I have Cashol and my baby.
If I lose them…
I shake my head to clear the dark thoughts. “Any luck on matching discs?”
“Nada, amigo.”
“Keep looking. There’s a few more baskets over in the corner.”
“I’m on it,” she says, and gets to her feet. “As for the worry? It’s funny, but I don’t worry anymore.”
I pick through my basket idly. “No?”
“Nope. I figure that I’ve been kidnapped by aliens and dropped halfway across the galaxy to find the one person that’s perfect for me, so there’s got to be a master plan at work.” She begins to hum a little tune and then pauses. “We’ve got to trust that the worst is over, you know? All the storm clouds are behind us and there’s nothing but blue skies ahead.”
I smile to hear her say that. Maybe she’s right. Maybe there are nothing but good things from this point on. Except…I don’t point out that the skies here are rarely blue and are most often covered with a gray, wintry fog.
Let her have enough optimism for the both of us.
4
CASHOL
The dvisti herd peacefully grazing in the valley is completely unaware of my presence. I’m downwind of them and Haeden’s nearby, up on a ledge. He has the onerous task this day of rubbing his skin with dung to disguise his smell, and they have yet to notice him. It will be my turn for the next herd.
We had originally planned to go our separate ways to hunt but Haeden does not want to be away from his new mate. I do not wish to be away from Meh-gan’s side as well, and so we devise a plan to attack a herd and bring back much dvisti meat without spending handfuls of days away.
So we have spent several days digging pits. Many, many pits. Long pits. Deep pits with spear-heads attached to stakes. It snows endlessly, and we spend half the day re-digging out our trenches. The weather is bad and only growing worse, and if this does not work, we will be spending even more days afield.
It is a risk, but we are willing to try it.
The call of a scythe-beak cuts through the air and I look over at Haeden. He makes the strange, cutting sound again, a hand to his mouth. I nod and respond with the same. It is time.
The dvisti graze on, unaware of our presence.
Then, Haeden gives a blood-curdling yell, jumping down from his perch. He waves his spear, screaming as he rushes toward the startled herd. They panic and surge in the opposite direction, toward me.
I jump as well, bellowing, and chase after them as they switch directions once more. Now the herd has nowhere to go but towards our pit traps. They charge toward the pits, invisible against the snowy drifts, and one bellows as it goes down into the hole. Another sinks after it, and there is a snap of bone. Three more dvisti bray and skirt wide, but several more of the herd end up in the traps, and Haeden and I jog toward them, pleased.
“How many did we get?” I ask as we meet up, spears in hand. The day’s work is just beginning - we will need to kill any trapped dvisti that did not snap their necks. We will need to pull the carcass from the pit, cut the throat to bleed it, and then dress it. Our sleds wait against a nearby cliff, and from there, we will ferry our kills to a cache.
Then, we will clean ourselves off and do it all over again.
Haeden grunts, staring ahead. “Six, maybe seven. Not enough.”
“There is more time,” I tell him. “And more herds.” I am pleased, though. This is a good deal of meat, and the tribe needs more.
“And more pits to be dug,” he says, and then reaches over and smears his dung-covered arm against mine. “You get to be upwind next time.”
I jog away from him, chuckling. “That is fine. My Meh-gan is not here to smell my stink. I can be as filthy as I want for the next handful of days.”
Haeden is silent. That is not unusual, though, and we both set to work. After a short time, the dvisti are slain and dragged out of the pit, and we begin to dress the seven carcasses. One is puny and will not provide much food, but the others are fat and healthy. I think of my Meh-gan. Has she found the little presents I have been busy hiding for her? Humans place great emphasis on gifts, and so I have tried to think about what would please her—
“What is it like?”
Eh? I look up from the dvisti belly that I am currently arm-deep in, removing the offal. “What is what like?”
Haeden doesn’t look at me. He is equally busy, but I wonder if it is something more. “Your mate,” he says after a long moment. “The kit. Have things changed now that her belly grows?”
Ah. He is curious. Newly mated, I have no doubt that he worries things with Jo-see will adjust and he will not like the results. “We do not mate as often,” I tell him.
“No?” He looks up, brows drawn together.
“Only three times a day,” I say solemnly. “Maybe twice if my cock is tired.”
Something splats on my arm. It’s intestine. Filled. Disgusting. I look up and Haeden’s snarling at me.
I burst into laughter. “You are too serious, my friend.”
“And you joke too much.” He gives me another disgusted look and returns to butchering his kill. “I just…things are good right now. I do not wish for that to change.”
“It changes,” I tell him carefully, this time being truthful. “Everything always changes. It is unavoidable. Some of the intensity of resonance gets lost, but it is replaced by new things. Better things.” I sit back, wiping my hands clean of blood as I take a brief pause. Thoughts of Meh-gan fill my mind and I smile to myself. “I love to hear my mate’s laugh. I love to take care of her. I do not mind when she is tired, because then I will pull her against me and hold her all night. I live to please her, and when you feel your son kick in her belly…” I spread my hands, helpless to describe the joy of it. “Everything in the world is perfect.”
His jaw clenches and he gives a jerky nod after a moment. “Jo-see wants many kits. I…I just want her. Is it wrong that I do not care about the kits?”
“You will,” I assure him. “When you feel it move in her belly, you will know joy.”
He grunts. “I already know joy.”
“More joy,” I amend. “You will not feel jealous of the kit, if that is your worry. There will be room in your mate’s heart for both. Know this.” I pick up my blade again and glance up at the sky. It grows darker by the moment, and I can feel the air growing chilled. “It is her belly we should worry about at the moment.”
Haeden looks up and nods. “We must work faster.”
We have the last dressed, skinned carcass buried in the cache moments before the weather changes for the worse. One moment, it is snowing heavily. The next, the wind makes my hair icy, wet whips that flay at my skin and I can no longer see my hand in front of my face.
“To the cave,” Haeden bellows. I can barely hear him over the roar of the wind. I claw my hand into his backpack to keep hold of him - for his safety as well as my own - and head in the direction of the hunter cave. There is one not far, but it might be impossible to find in the storm.
The wind grows bitterly cold and I wrap my fur cape around my shoulders and neck. I picture Meh-gan back in the cave, her fragile human body pinkish-blue with chills. I am not there to bundle her in thicker furs, or to get her hot tea when she is cold and too distracted to take care of herself. I feel a pang of worry; someone will think of my mate and take care of her if the cold gets to be too much, surely. The fires must be kept warm and the humans protected, especially the sweet human that carries my son.
I am lost in thought and concern for my mate, blindly following Haeden forward through the knee-deep snow when the wind abruptly dies. I look up, pushing my thick furs away from my frozen mane to realize we are in the hunter cave. I have been so distracted that I did not realize.
Haeden shrugs my hand off and moves toward the back of the dark
cave. “Start the fire. I will see what supplies we have.”
My fingers find the frozen thong at my neck. Meh-gan’s fire starter is there. I can make a fire without it, but I want to use it and be close to her. I pull Meh-gan’s necklace from my throat and find my firestarter kit in my pack. Within moments, I have a fire going and begin to feed it dried dung and fluff to coax it higher.
Haeden emerges from the recesses of the cave with a bone plate. He mutters something about the dark and scoops up a coal on the plate, blowing gently on it to make it flare hotter. Then he disappears back into the recess of the cave. I stoke the fire and then set up my tripod to melt some snow to drink. The wind is ripping through the cave, and I find the hide screen that can be used to block the worst of the snow. It’s coming off one side, the leather worn, and I spend a few moments re-stringing it around the heavy bone framework before pushing it in place against the cave entrance. It settles in and then beats like a drum against the wind, flapping in place. I ignore the noise and return to the fire.
This storm will likely last until morning. After that, we will be able to go out and continue hunting, provided the clouds clear. I remember Rokan’s warnings about the storms, and worry anew about my mate.
Haeden returns to the front of the cave a moment later, his coal gone. In its place, he has a bundle of supplies - cured hides, a bundle of dried wood, and a pouch of what is likely kah, the granular meat mix most hunters live off of when away from the cave. He dumps it all near the fire and gives me a sour look. “It seems we will be spending the night together.”
I do not mind the company. It helps keep my mind off my mate. “Keep your cold feet on your side of the bed tonight.”
He gives me a scathing look. “The only person I want crawling into my furs is Jo-see. Stay on your side of the cave.”
I chuckle. He is far too easy to tease. “Let us hope your Jo-see and my Meh-gan are safe and warm back at the caves.”
“If they are not, I will wring the neck of every hunter who was there and did not take care of them.” He scowls at the fire. “And a few female necks, too.”
