by Ruby Dixon
My gut feels as if a stone has lodged there.
“Then you were born, and the tension between them seemed to vanish. Mother was content for the first time, I think, since leaving the cave. She loved you. Her tiny Maarukh. I remember her saying it over and over again. It’s one of my last memories of her.” His gaze swings away, back to her necklace. “Sa-kohtsk are difficult to bring down with six hunters. Imagine trying to bring it down with one man, his mate, and a young boy.” He shakes his head and rubs his jaw with one hand. “Mother was determined to help, because she knew if we did not get you a khui, you would die. They felled it, but Mother died in the hunt and I was mauled.” His hand touches his face, the deep scarring below the broken horn. “I don’t remember much after that. Just Father taking me back to the tribe for healing and leaving me there. I never understood why he did not stay with me.” His gaze slides to me. “Now I know. He told me you were dead, but it was a lie. He just didn’t want to bring you back to the tribe. With me, he had no choice.”
I do not know what to say. There is much anger in Raahosh’s voice. I think for a minute, in silence. It is very quiet at father’s rocky bedside. “He carried much hate for them. Always.”
Raahosh nods slowly. “And yet he left me with them and protected you. I do not know why this angers me, but it does. You are not to blame.”
I am angry too, and puzzled as to why. I loved my father. I missed him terribly, but after hearing this, I am filled with confusion and resentment for him. He never told me about Raahosh. He never told me that he had to force my mother to stay with him. I no longer know what to think.
“When did he die?” Raahosh’s voice is quiet. “I went looking for him many seasons later, but there was nothing left in his old cave.”
I am silent for a long moment, trying to picture which cave Raahosh visited. My father had several he passed through from season to season, and I did the same. It’s how I avoided the bad ones for so long while on my own. Yet I find his admission that he came hunting for his father…satisfying. I like the thought of this man never giving up on his father. It is what I would have done. “I was young. Maybe…” I try to think. “Seven seasons. There was a hunt and he was hurt by a snow-cat. The wound did not heal cleanly and he died of fever.”
Raahosh’s face twists angrily. “Another thing that a healer could have prevented. Did he want to die?”
I have no answer. Now that I know there is a healer, I wonder this myself.
After a time, he speaks again. “You…were alone out here?”
I grunt agreement. Alone for a very, very long time. The thought leaves me aching with more vague resentment, and worry when I think about my mate. I would die if she were to leave me. “When I found Har-loh, I had forgotten many things. She has taught me words again. How to work leather. How to do many things.”
He nods slowly. “The humans are clever. They are soft and fragile, but their minds…” he taps the side of his head, on a scar. “They are like knives. My Leezh can cut with her tongue.” But he grins, as if pleased by the thought.
Har-loh has told me the story of how her people got here. I don’t know if I believe all of it. It sounds too incredible to be true, but judging by this man’s reaction, the humans are new and different to the bad ones, too.
Raahosh stares at our father’s rocky grave for a moment longer, then glances over at me. “It is…good to have family again.”
Are we family? To me, he is still a stranger. Har-loh is the only one I care for. But Raahosh’s oddly familiar presence makes me feel…less alone. So that is something.
Chapter Eight
HARLOW
I feel like crying as we leave our beach cave behind. I’ve been so happy there for the last year, and it feels like home—more so than the tribal caves we’re journeying back to. I feel responsible that we’re having to make this decision, like my body’s betrayal is somehow a choice I made.
If I’m totally honest with myself, a small, worried little part of me wonders if my brain tumor is back. If my khui can’t take the stress of holding it at bay and it’s returning, and that’s why I’ve been so sick. I don’t tell Rukh this, or Liz and Raahosh. It might be nothing, and Rukh would just worry endlessly. My exhaustion and weakness might just be baby related.
But I still worry.
The travel is difficult. Rukh won’t let me carry my pack, insisting that it weighs nothing to him. He simply shoulders it and adds it to his own substantial gear. Me? I can barely lift my feet to put on my snowshoes. The thought of walking for three days seems an impossible trial, made even more difficult by Liz’s boundless energy. She’s been pregnant for longer than me, but she keeps up with the men and even paces ahead at times to investigate tracks (something that makes Raahosh crazy and overprotective). Rukh grips my hand, and with him at my side, I feel less overwhelmed.
Still, it isn’t long before my back is sending shooting pains through me, my belly aches, and I can’t walk any longer. Judging from the placement of the twin suns in the milky sky, it’s not even noon yet.
I’ve got to do three days of this. Tears of frustration start to course down my cheeks and I want to plant my feet on the ground and tell them to go on without me. The trail ahead is uneven and hilly, and it’ll only get worse because we’re going into the mountains instead of leaving them behind.
My steps falter in the snow, and Rukh is immediately there, cupping my elbows. “Are you well?”
“Just tired,” I admit. “Can we take a break?”
Liz and Raahosh are ahead of us, and I don’t miss the looks they exchange. I don’t care. I can’t move another step without taking a break. My back feels like one big mass of sore muscles.
“I have better idea,” Rukh says. He tosses our packs off his shoulders and onto the ground. Then, he swings me into his arms and cradles me against his chest. The pressure on my back immediately eases as he snuggles me down against him.
“You – you can’t carry me the entire way,” I protest. He’s strong, but I’m a solid girl and I’m carrying a baby. There’s no way.
“Can I not? You are my mate,” he says in a low voice. “I would do anything for you.”
Raahosh moves to Rukh’s side and swings our packs onto his back. Rukh adjusts me in his arms, and then we continue. I wrap my arms around Rukh’s neck, worried he might lose focus and drop me. But as he steps resolutely through the snow, I relax.
And then I fade into a nap, too tired to stay awake.
• • •
The next few days are a blur. My back and stomach feel like raw agony, and I’m so tired and miserable that I don’t want to eat. It seems like every time I turn around, someone is forcing another bit of dried meat into my mouth, until I’m gagging on the taste. I can tell Liz and Rukh both are worried about me, but I’m doing the best I can.
Rukh carries me the rest of the first day, and then all of the second day. By the third, I’m sure his arms must be cramping as he carries me in front of him, but he cradles me as gently as ever against his chest. I doze, feeling feverish. The pain in my side is a constant ache, and the baby kicks and pushes against my organs as if trying to rearrange them. One of us is full of energy, at least.
At some point, I fall asleep again, and when I wake up, the world is quiet. So quiet. Soft, warm fingers caress my brow, and another hand is holding mine tightly. It’s dark, and I blink because there’s no wind on my face. Where are we?
“Be calm,” says a woman’s soft voice. “I am going to speak to your khui.”
Dazed, I realize we’ve somehow made it back to the tribal caves. It is Maylak the healer speaking, her fingers tracing my brow. How long have I been unconscious? I look around and Rukh is there beside me, his hand gripping mine tightly.
Good, he’s here. He hasn’t left me. I give him a small smile to let him know I’m just fine. “I must have fallen asleep again. Have I been out long?”
“A day,” he says, and his hand flexes on mine. There’s a tigh
tness in his voice that tells me of his worry. A full day?
I want to tell him that I’m just fine, but I don’t feel fine. I’m so exhausted and worn out. My head throbs and my throat hurts. Actually, all of me hurts. The baby kicks again and a little bit of tension I’ve been holding inside me releases – whatever happens, the baby is fine. Our baby.
I squeeze Rukh’s hand. This can’t be easy for him. “I love you.”
“You are my heart,” he says thickly.
I know I am. I smile at him again, but then Maylak’s gentle song begins and I feel a weird…excitement in my chest. Not like resonance. It’s something else. My body floods with what feels like endorphins and I feel…good. Just good. Relaxed. Happy.
“Rest,” Maylak says in her gentle voice. Her fingertips smooth over my eyelids, ensuring I close them and obey her. “I will speak to your khui and heal you. But for now? You must rest.”
Rest sounds good, despite the fact that I seem to be doing a lot of sleeping lately. “Is it the baby?” I murmur. I have to know before I can relax.
“Your khui will tell me.”
“While you’re in there checking everything out,” I say sleepily. “Can you make sure everything’s okay…up here?” I touch my forehead. “Just in case? Nothing weird going on?”
Her laughter is like a gentle rainfall, which sounds like such a cliché. But…it fits. Just hearing it makes me feel soothed and at peace. “I will check everything, I promise.”
I nod and squeeze Rukh’s hand again, relaxing. “I’ll be fine, baby. You’ll see.”
And then I fall asleep, sinking back into darkness. In my dreams, I’m holding my child. It has Rukh’s horns and tail, and my reddish hair and freckles. Poor kid. I can’t stop smiling at the thought, though, because the baby is happy and healthy and when he laughs, he looks just like his daddy…
RUKH
The healer hums softly as her fingertips brush over Har-loh’s pale skin. She looks calm, happy, and so at ease that some of my tension melts away. I don’t let go of my mate’s hand, though. As long as I touch her, some of my fear remains at bay. As Har-loh sleeps, I gently rub her knuckles. I want to touch her face but I don’t want to get in the way of the healer as she works.
“Your khui is not familiar to me.”
I look up, surprised to hear her speak. Even as her hands glide over Har-loh, doing seemingly nothing at all, there are small changes. Some of the hollows are easing from Har-loh’s face, the tension on her brow relaxing.
The healer gives me a gentle smile and puts her hands on Har-loh’s belly. “I know the khuis of each and every tribemate, but you do not sing in a familiar pattern to me.”
“I am not of your tribe.”
She looks surprised to hear that, her hands smoothing over the hard, rounded belly of my mate. “No? But you look like Raahosh.”
“We shared a father.”
“But you do not claim the tribe?” Her voice is soft and motherly, for all that she could be the same age as me.
“You have nothing I want.” My voice is a near snarl.
She ignores the anger in my response, unruffled. “Yet you are here, asking us to heal your mate.” Her gaze flicks to me. “I do not judge your choice. I am just stating it.”
I return to silence. If she expects a reply from me, she doesn’t seem disappointed.
“I am Maylak,” she says after a moment.
I do not give her my name. Not yet. When she leans forward to touch the far side of Har-loh’s belly, I notice that the healer is pregnant, too.
“You are with kit?” Is everyone in this tribe pregnant? Leezh is, this one is, and Raahosh tells me that the tribe’s leader’s mate is also pregnant.
“I am, though I am the only one that will be giving birth to a full-blooded sa-khui. All the others will be half-human and half one of our people.” She sighs and pats her belly. “I envy the humans their speediness, though. They will not be pregnant nearly as long as I am. Your Harlow does not have much longer.”
I rub her knuckles again. “No?”
“The kit is small inside her, but seems to be fully formed.” She touches Har-loh’s belly gently. “It will be different, of course. The humans are very different from our people.”
That worries me. How different? In the wild, animals cull the ‘different’ from the herd. But this woman is a healer, and she would know if my kit is going to be too ‘different’ to survive. My chest feels tight, and it takes everything I have not to crush Har-loh’s hand in mine. “Is that bad? That the kit is…different?”
She shakes her head, and the pressure in my chest eases a little. “The humans have different strengths than we do. I’m grateful they’re here. Without them, we only had four females. I do not know how much longer we could have lasted as a tribe. They have given us new life and new hope.”
I don’t care about the tribe’s hopes. All I want to know is if my mate and my kit will be well.
Her hands flutter over Har-loh’s stomach, and then her chest, and her mouth thins in a firm line.
“What?” I growl, noticing her expression change.
Maylak pulls her hands back and clasps them in front of her rounded belly. “Her khui is very tired. It is having to work very hard to keep her healthy.”
It is not doing a good job, then, because my mate is more fragile now than ever. I hold her hand tightly and press it to my chest, as if her khui can take strength in mine. “Because of the kit?”
She shakes her head slowly. “There is something else it is fighting. Both at once are nearly overwhelming it. She will need to stay here, and stay close to me so my khui can bolster hers.” Her hand smooths over Har-loh’s cheek. My mate sleeps on, undisturbed. “Otherwise, you risk both your kit and your mate.”
I knew this, and yet hearing the words spoken aloud fill me with dread.
To save my mate, we must remain here with the bad ones. My entire body tenses and I fight the feeling of anger and helplessness that I feel.
I will do what it takes to keep Har-loh safe. What I need does not matter.
I will not make the choice that my father did and doom my mate by hiding her away from the world. Even if I cannot stay here, Har-loh must.
My heart is heavy as I press my mouth to Har-loh’s small knuckles.
The healer goes back to work on my mate, her eyes closing. Her mind goes inward and she is lost in her healing, gently pressing on different spots on Har-loh’s body and humming in her throat. After a time, I realize it is not Maylak that is humming but her khui itself – a different song than resonance, but just as powerful. A healing song. I watch at my mate’s side, unwilling to leave her, even to get up for food. I can eat later. For now, I will watch over Har-loh.
“You.” The voice is low, male. Unfamiliar.
I turn my head and see a large male standing in the mouth of Maylak’s cave. His horns are enormous and curling, his hair dark and hanging in a long tail. He wears a vest and leggings, and crosses his arms at the sight of me.
“We need to talk.”
I eye him but don’t move. I don’t want to leave my mate’s side. “Who are you?”
“I am the chief of these people.” He nods at Har-loh. “Including her.”
Maylak breaks from her singing and casts a frustrated look in our direction. “I must concentrate to heal her.”
The chief points into the main cavern, waiting for me to join him.
I look back at Har-loh.
“She will not wake for some time,” Maylak says gently. “She is safe with me.”
Oddly enough, I trust this female, even if she does have the poor choice of living with the bad ones. After a few moments, I release my mate’s hand and rise to my feet. I look at the healer, who has been good to my mate. “My name is Rukh,” I give her.
“Welcome home, Rukh.”
I do not correct her. I am not home. I turn and leave the healer’s cave, unhurried as I stalk past the stranger waiting for me. I am not one of his peo
ple and he cannot order me about. She pulls the curtain on her cave shut behind her, closing us out.
As I step forward into the main cavern, the sheer…busy-ness threatens to overwhelm me. There are people everywhere. This is nothing like our quiet cave by the salt lake. Humans and sa-khui sit in small groups. Some are eating, some are working on leathers. A few lounge by a sunken pool in the center of the cavern. They look at us as we approach and my skin prickles with tension. It’s noisy and crowded and awful.
“Come,” the chief says. “We will have more privacy in my cave. We will talk there.” He strides forward and scoops up a kit that runs past, then hands him off to a nearby man. He doesn’t stop to see if I am following as he makes his way through the busy cavern and then disappears into a smaller cave.
I can join him…or I can stay out here with all of these people. There is no choice, of course. I can feel the prick of a dozen eyes on me and I clench my fists, hating how open I feel. How exposed. I duck into the cave after the chief and look around.
The entrance is small but the cave itself opens up to a cozy interior. A few candles flicker on ledges, providing light, and a human woman sits on a bone stool, frowning at a bit of leatherwork in her hands.
“Georgie,” the chief says. “I need to speak to Maarukh alone. Can you give us a few moments, my mate?”
She looks up at us and blows an exasperated breath out of her mouth. “Vektal, I’ve sewn this stupid sleeve on three times and I can’t get my seams straight!” She throws aside the tiny garment and then her lower lip wobbles. Her face crumples and she begins to cry, her face buried in her hands.
The chief – Vektal – shoots me a look and then moves forward to kneel at his mate’s feet. He soothes away her tears with murmurs, and caresses her cheek lovingly. I try not to stare at her. She looks similar to my Har-loh: same flat face, same pale skin, but this one has no freckles and her hair is an uninteresting brown to Har-loh’s fiery orange.
