I was taking her back to my parents’ house. It was much closer than my own, and my house was also guarded and staffed. I didn’t want anyone knowing I’d brought back a human yet.
When we arrived, I said, “Stop.”
She froze immediately. I stepped in front of her and looked at her. I could tell she wanted to look around, but she kept her eyes firmly on mine. It was a good choice on her part.
“I will enter first. You will not run. If you do, you will die. There are creatures in the plains that will kill you in an instant, and, if they don’t get you, I will. Follow me closely,” I instructed.
She nodded shakily, looking like her voice was stuck in her throat. I turned and opened the door, and I felt her presence within inches behind me.
The moment we stepped inside, my mother and father both looked up. They were near the cooking pot and appeared to be in a deep discussion. Upon seeing the human, however, they both responded at once. Mother sprung back and raced over to my siblings, placing her body firmly between them and Tabitha Bartel. My father had the opposite reaction; he jerked toward me in an attack stance. I coolly held up a hand to stop him.
“There was a crash. I assume it was the ship closest to Albaterra,” I told them, looking at Father as I spoke. “This human was the only one I found, but she thinks there are survivors inside the ruins.”
“You didn’t kill her?” my father hissed. He was staring aggressively at the girl, and I involuntarily stepped in front of her to shield her from him. I didn’t know why I did it, but it was my natural response to the expression on his face.
“To kill her would undermine the authority of the Elder Council,” I said. “That is a Forum decision.”
“Why did you bring her here?” Mother whimpered. She was visibly trembling.
I glanced over my shoulder at Tabitha Bartel and saw she was looking between my parents and me with a mixture of fright and confusion on her face. I realized I had reverted back to A’li-uud dialect speaking to them, but I continued in the language, not feeling she should understand the conversation quite yet.
“I have staff and guards, Mother. I don’t want more people knowing I have her until necessary.”
“Isn’t that undermining the authority of the Elder Council?” Father asked pointedly.
I turned my gaze back to him, and I felt myself standing a little straighter with the power of my Elderhood. He seemed to shrink slightly beneath the weight of my expression.
“You may be my father,” I said quietly, “but I am still your king.”
He looked furious, but he kept silent.
“I need you to dispatch the warriors to the crash site. All survivors are to be extracted and brought to confinement. Any warrior who harms a human in the slightest will be executed; be sure they understand this. Tell nobody of this human.”
Father looked as though he wanted to argue, but he turned to my mother with a small nod and exited the house, sidling past Tabitha Bartel cautiously. When the door closed behind him, I said to Mother, “I will be taking her upstairs to my bedroom to interrogate her. Stay down here with Igno and Risa.”
“Yes, son,” she murmured, clutching my siblings to her.
I motioned for the human to follow me and led her up the staircase to what used to be my bedroom. Once inside, I closed the door behind us and pointed to the bed.
“Sit.”
She obeyed. As she sat, she looked surprised by something, and I realized she was probably unfamiliar with virtually everything she saw, touched, and heard.
“Are you going to kill me?” she asked in a small voice.
For the first time since finding her, I was able to properly take in what I saw. Her hair was dark brown, much like the spots on hicorn. It fell past her shoulders in loose but bouncy curls. It looked as soft as the prairie grass, and I actually found myself wanting to touch it. Her eyes were fixated on me in wide, fearful rounds, but I noticed they were almost the same color blue of the mid-morning sky. She had a figure similar to Pugna’ta, but her human curves were slightly curvier and she didn’t sport Pugna’ta’s muscular ripples. She was beautiful in a way I’d never considered before, beautiful in a way I had never been exposed to.
“No,” I said finally. “Not yet, at least.”
I saw her eyes fill with liquid, and then a droplet leaked from the corner of one and spilled down her cheek. It was an intoxicating sight to behold, almost majestic in a way.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She looked at me in confusion as a second droplet dribbled along her nose-line. “What do you mean?”
“Your eyes,” I said, motioning toward them with one hand. “What is happening?”
“Oh,” she said quickly, brushing her palm over both eyes and sniffling. “I’m crying. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you doing that?”
She looked at me as if I was crazy. “Because I-I’m scared.”
I leaned against the wall opposite her and watched as she wiped away more of the droplets. I found her more fascinating by the second, but I didn’t know why. Even stranger than that was my lack of fear. Nothing about her made me feel threatened. In fact, I felt an urge to reassure her, to let her know there was no reason to be scared, even though I couldn’t be sure that that was true.
“What is the name of your ship?” I asked, diving into questions to avoid any more of the strange emotions I was having.
“The Paragon,” she said with a sniffle.
“What was the Paragon doing in Andromeda?”
“I don’t know, exactly,” she said, looking up at me. No more droplets were skimming her cheeks, but her eyes looked red-rimmed and a little swollen. “I was just the chef.”
“Why were you onboard?”
At this question, her eyes dropped to her lap, and she looked torn between answers. When she responded, her voice was low and monotonous. “I didn’t want to be on Earth anymore.”
“Why?”
“Personal reasons,” she said defensively, looking back up at me with a defiant glint in her gaze.
I took a step forward and grabbed her chin harshly in my hand, jerking it upward. “There is no room for personal reasons here.”
She didn’t reply. Instead, she stared at me with an expression of awe rather than fear or anger. I released her chin.
“Why do you look at me like that?” I asked, my tone slathered in suspicion.
“Your skin,” she said in a voice of breathy amazement. “It’s so…strange.”
I furrowed my brow at her and crossed my arms. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “It’s just so smooth and warm and hard.” She flicked her gaze back up to mine. “What are you?”
“I told you. I am A’li-uud,” I answered stiffly.
“Can—may I touch you?” she asked, extending her fingertips toward me.
I considered her request for a moment. To my knowledge, humans were innately unmagical, and there wasn’t much she could do to me without weapons. Nevertheless, it seemed foolhardy to allow a prisoner, for all intents and purposes, to have direct contact with me. Despite my misgivings, though, I stepped even closer and held out an arm.
She pressed the pads of her fingers to my skin and slowly dragged them up and down the length of my forearm. She looked fascinated and almost excited. Something about her touch made me want to close my eyes and just revel in the sensation, but I kept my eyes fixed firmly on her as she explored. Her fingers drifted down to my hand, and she stroked down to the tips of my own fingers before caressing my palm with hers.
Everything she touched seemed to tingle. Her skin against mine felt cool and slick, and it relaxed me. I stared at her as she traveled up to the bend of my elbow and drank in the sight of her sun-white skin and sky-blue eyes.
“What’s your name?” she whispered, still stroking my arm.
Something in her voice sent a jolt through my gut, and my response sounded huskier than I intended as I said, “Rex.”
/> “It’s nice to meet you, Rex,” she said softly, looking up to me. She looked at my face more intently than she had thus far and asked, “May I see your eyes, please?”
I leaned down until we were level, and we stared at one another.
“Wow,” she murmured, pressing her fingertips to my cheekbone just below my eye as she spoke.
“You have never seen A’li-uud?” I asked, equally as quiet. It was a question I had intended to ask in the interrogation, but it came out now as a personal inquiry.
“No. I didn’t know you even existed.”
Her hand moved up my cheekbone and came to rest at my temple. I raised my own hand slowly until I was close enough to touch her, and I stroked her jaw with just as much intrigue as she had for me. Our eyes locked again, and I leaned forward until I felt her breath on my lips. She looked eager, intent, and slightly frightened, and I wanted to close the tiny gap between us.
But I didn’t.
I pulled back and straightened up, her hand falling limply from my face onto her thigh. She instantly seemed confused and hurt, and the slight fright on her features was now significant fear.
“I have to go,” I said. “You will stay in this room.”
“Where are you going?” she asked timidly.
I eyed her warily. “I am Tribe Elder of this kingdom. I must confer with my warriors about what they have found at your ship’s crash site. I must speak with the other Elders regarding what action we will take.”
“Shouldn’t—Shouldn’t I go with you?”
In any other circumstance, I would have brought her. I couldn’t understand why, but I couldn’t reconcile bringing her with me for fear she would be harmed—or killed—on sight by one or several of the other Elders.
“You are still needed,” I said in a clipped tone. “There are those who would kill you as soon as they saw you. I cannot take that chance.”
Something in her face softened, and she nodded.
“You will stay in this room.”
She looked rather disappointed as she asked, “Can’t I just stay at the house? Do I have to stay in the room?”
I thought about the request. My mother was going to be terrified whether the girl remained in the room or not. My father would likely feel more comfortable with her out of the room so that he could keep an eye on her. She was no threat I could measure.
I nodded. “Fine. You may leave the room, but you must stay here.”
“I will. I promise,” she replied eagerly.
I moved for the door. Before I left, I looked over my shoulder at her and said, “I will be back soon, Tabitha Bartel.”
The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile, and she replied, “Just call me Tabitha.”
6
Tabitha
I sat on the bed for a while after Rex left, reeling from everything that had happened. Fear still gripped my gut, fear of what was to happen to me as well as fear of what would happen to my surviving crewmates—if they survived at all. Greater than the fear, though, was the powerful curiosity and awe I was feeling. Rex, this strange alien creature, was fascinating and intoxicating to me in a way I’d never experienced before. I wanted more of him. I wanted to be around him, to learn about this weird world from him, and to learn about who he was.
Finally, however, my curiosity got the better of me, and I stood. I crept slowly to the door, unsure if the other A’li-uud in the house were prepared to slaughter me the moment I stepped out. I heard sounds from the first floor that sounded like normal household activities, but I still didn’t feel entirely safe to just wander. Nevertheless, I opened the door cautiously and peeked out.
Nobody was around. My gaze fell on the same strange staircase Rex had taken me up to get to this room. It seemed to be made of dirt, but it was solid and appeared to be crafted like any normal wooden or metal staircase. I tiptoed to the top step and began making my way down bit by bit.
When I made it to the bottom, I saw the two adult A’li-uud immediately. The female was hovering over a cooking pot, and the male was pacing around the space with his hands behind his back. Upon seeing me, both straightened up and seemed to freeze. I froze, too. I didn’t know what Rex had told them before he’d left, and I didn’t know if these aliens were trustworthy. Neither moved toward me, though. They both just remained rooted to their places with their eyes on me, though the female’s eyes darted across the room intermittently at the two little children.
“Hello,” I said uncertainly. My voice sounded loud and out of place in the room, and I almost wished I hadn’t spoken.
I received no reply. I considered racing back upstairs and holing up in the bedroom until Rex returned, but I couldn’t help myself.
“I’m Tabitha,” I continued, my words trembling slightly with nerves. “Rex said I could stay here while he was gone.”
“We know,” the male said.
I was taken aback by his voice. It was deep and low, and, while he spoke in English with the same staccato mannerism Rex had, there was something almost foreign about the words. It was as if I could hear the clacking of his native tongue inside each syllable.
I understood him, though, and I nodded. “May I walk around?”
The female was looking at me with wide eyes now, clearly fearful, but the male seemed to be slightly more comfortable now that we were conversing.
“Rex says you are not a threat,” he said. It wasn’t exactly an answer to my question, so I responded to him.
“I’m not,” I said. “I don’t even know what you are or where I am.”
“We are A’li-uud,” the male replied, straightening up even further and puffing out his chest a bit.
It was a little difficult for me not to get snappish. Rex had just said he was A’li-uud, too, when I had asked about what he was. I wanted to say that knowing the name of something didn’t explain what it was, but I was too far out of my element to do anything except nod again.
“Stay on the property,” the male commanded. He sounded very similar to Rex in his dominant command. “You are not safe if you leave.”
“I will,” I promised. The two adults across the room remained frozen in their spots, just watching me, so I decided to move first.
Walking outside, I was able to breathe a little bit easier. It was unnerving to have two sets of eyes boring into me and assessing every little move I made. There was freedom in closing the door between them and myself, and the vast expanse of plains around me only helped to lift that feeling of freedom. I stood on the front path and just looked for a moment.
The landscape was the same as it had been at the site of the crash, but, without the terror pulsating through me, it was even more breathtaking. The fluffy beige grass bent in synchronized dance with the whim of the breeze, making the ground seem to ripple like ocean waves, going on as far as the eye could see. A band of lilac-colored sky wrapped around the land where the horizon met the grasses, and, where there had been turquoise and lavender in the heavens, there was now a blanket of cobalt and swirls of varying eggplant hues. The stars were so bright in the fading light, I couldn’t help but think of them as pieces of the weird white sun. The dusk brought with it blindness, but I could still make out the dark arms of the lifelike trees piercing the otherwise flawless skyline. It was beauty in its purest form.
I turned to look at the house behind me. I’d seen it when Rex had first brought me to it, of course, but I’d been so frightened he was going to kill me, I hadn’t been able to appreciate it. It was rounded in shape but with sharp angles and straight lines at unpredicted places. I extended a hand and pressed my palm to the wall. It felt like clay or mud, dried from the sun, but firmer and hardier. There was no flaking, chipping, or dust from the structure, as I would have expected. The house also had windows made of some kind of extraordinary, nearly invisible glass, and the door was of a wood I wouldn’t have been able to name.
Without really thinking, I walked a few steps down the path and propped myself onto the top rail of a fenc
e, which was made of similar wood to the door. The fence didn’t seem to serve a purpose, as it had no gate to close and only stretched about ten yards, but it was a fitting place for me to have a seat and just relax for the first time since nearly plummeting to my death.
I was so lost in my thoughts about what would happen to me and what had or would happen to my crewmates that I didn’t notice the sky continuing to darken until a noise made me jump. I swung my head in the direction of the source, but I could see nothing, and my heart leaped into my throat with fear. Before I could decide whether to run into the house or wait to see what the sound was, Rex suddenly appeared by my side.
“Oh my God,” I said wheezily, putting a hand on my chest to steady my galloping heart. “Where did you come from?”
“We can move much faster than humans,” Rex said calmly. “What are you doing out here?”
“Just thinking,” I replied.
Through the darkness, I could make out his eyes staring at me intently. “Are you frightened?”
“Well, yeah,” I said. “I didn’t know it was you out there until you just popped up next to me.”
“No. Are you frightened of your fate?”
The question caught me off-guard, and I had to think for a moment. I knew the answer. I was definitely afraid of my fate, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to know that.
“Yes,” I finally answered honestly. “I don’t know what you want with me. And I don’t know what you’ll do when you get whatever it is you want.”
He continued to stare at me, and I desperately hoped he would reassure me somehow. I wanted him to tell me he wasn’t going to kill me, that I would be okay, and he would help me get back to Earth.
He didn’t, though. Silence spread between us for several long beats, and then he said, “Come inside. My mother has made dinner. That is what you call night-meal, yes?”
Welcome To Albaterra: A SciFi Alien Romance (Albaterra Mates 0.5) Page 4
