by Ruby Dixon
“He is…wonderful,” I tell her, and my voice catches in my throat. “He is a mixture of both you and me.”
She holds her arms out, and I kneel down to gently hand her my son. Our son. Our child. My heart overflows with emotion. Never have I felt so content…and so utterly terrified that it will all be ripped from me.
Har-loh’s eyes widen at the sight of him, and then she begins to cry. “He’s so beautiful.”
I chuckle. “No, he’s not. He is wrinkly.”
She bats my arm but doesn’t look up from the kit. “Shut up. I thought he’d have red hair. Can you imagine a blue baby with red hair? Horrible. But he’s perfect.” Her hand smooths over the small head, the tiny horn nubs, his nose, his cheek. In response to her touch, the baby turns his face toward her breast. She fits him there against her, and more tears fall down her cheeks as the baby begins to suck. The tiny mouth fits against her nipple and the baby quiets.
I could watch them forever.
“Take this,” Maylak says, and hands me the bundle of the birthing furs. “Go and bury this as far from the cave as you can.”
I nod and look at my mate. Har-loh’s gaze as she watches me is worried.
“What is it?”
“Will you…will you come back?” Fresh tears spill from her eyes. “To us?”
The hurt in her voice is like a knife in my gut. Why does she doubt me? How can she think I would abandon her and my child – my son – at this moment?
But then I remember Vektal waiting outside in the main cave. And I remember that my Har-loh must stay here if she is to be healthy. And my happiness is crushed. If I stay here with them, I will be going against everything my father taught me. And yet, how can I abandon them? They are my heart, more than the khui that vibrates in my chest whenever she is near.
I nod slowly. “I will return.” I want to say more, but there’s so much worry and emotion in Har-loh’s big eyes that I can’t speak. I clutch the bundle of bloodied furs against my chest and leave the cave. We will talk more when I can think clearly.
Vektal is waiting the moment I exit the cave. I stalk past him, not wanting to talk, but he walks alongside me as I exit the cave.
“Well?” He says when I remain silent and head out into the snow. “Is it healthy?”
I nod. For some reason, I’m glad his first question is asking about the child’s health.
He exhales in relief and claps my shoulder as if we are friends. I stiffen, but say nothing. Har-loh must remain with these people no matter what, so I cannot snarl at him.
“And Harlow? Is she well?”
“She is tired, but well.”
“The child – a female or male?”
“Male.”
He grunts. “Does it look as the humans do?”
I think of the kit. I held him in my arms for seconds only, and already I want to race back in there and hold him again. I want to stare and count his fingers and toes and check him over once more to ensure yes, he is whole. “It looks like both myself and Har-loh.” I pause and then remember the size of the child, no bigger than my hand. “It is very small. Very small.”
And his eyes are dark.
Vektal makes a worried sound. “We will need to get a khui inside him soon. Right now he is fragile without it to protect him.”
I swallow hard and nod. I haven’t even thought that far ahead, but he’s right. The baby will need a khui or he will weaken and die within days. Terror clutches at me. My mother died on a khui hunt right after I was born. What if I can’t bring down a sa-kohtsk by myself?
I need the tribe to help. I cannot do it on my own. Har-loh is incredibly weak and I cannot ask her to help me hunt one. She needs rest, not a hunt.
Not for the first time, I’m filled with helpless anger toward my dead father. How could he ask such a thing of my mother, fresh from giving birth to me? Was his pride so great that he did not want anything to do with the tribe and so he risked her life? Are they that awful? Am I yet being deceived by their helpfulness?
Vektal claps a hand on my back again. “I will send out the fastest hunters to track one of the sa-kohtsk.”
The lumbering giants could be anywhere. I pause and look over at the chief. “And my mate and kit? How will they get there? Har-loh is too weak to walk.”
He nods as if expecting this. “Raahosh has a sled he uses during his hunts with Leezh. We will use that to carry Har-loh and the child with us.”
What would I do without the tribe’s help? Even if I don’t like Vektal, he is putting his people’s lives on the line to help me and Har-loh.
I do not know what to think anymore. All I know is that I must bury my bundle quickly and return to my mate’s side.
HARLOW
I sleep for a few hours, my dreams fitful and strange. I wake up to the sound of a baby crying, and it takes a moment of disorientation – and the leakage of my breasts – to remind me that it’s my child. Oh. I sit up and reach into the basket next to my bed, pulling my baby into my arms. The leather wrap around his bottom is wet, so I change that, wishing fervently for disposable diapers. I’ll just have to become a real expert at wiping down leather, I suppose. I pull the baby into my arms and tuck him against my breast.
The little rosebud mouth immediately seeks my nipple and he latches on.
God, he’s so beautiful. I watch him nurse, amazed and overwhelmed. He looks like Rukh, but there’re enough of my features there, too. The mixture of Rukh’s alien appearance with my human one should create an ugly mixture, but the baby is beautiful and I feel like he’s going to be even better looking than any child I’ve ever seen. Of course, that might be the proud mama in me talking.
The only thing that worries me is his size. He’s not a plump baby. He’s long, but his legs are skinny and his belly should be more rounded. He stops eating too soon, and dozes back to sleep, and I want to wake him up and make him drink more. I worry he’s not getting enough.
The leather curtain over the cave entrance parts, and Rukh enters, looking tall and handsome and so wonderful that my entire body aches with love. He’s got a small bowl of Liz’s stew with him, and a water skin. I’m hungry, but I’m not ready to let go of the baby yet. I trail my fingers over his tiny head. There’s a faint down but it’s too pale to see what color it will be. I hope he has Rukh’s gorgeous, thick black hair instead of my limp red hair. Actually, if he looked a hundred percent like his daddy, I’d be in heaven.
“You are crying,” Rukh states after a moment. “Are you hurting?”
I ache all over and certain parts of me don’t feel great post-birth but I haven’t given it a second thought. There’s a sweet little baby taking up every bit of my attention. “Am I?” I brush the back of my hand over my cheeks and sure enough, I’m crying. “It’s just emotion, I think. I…never thought I would have all this.” I look over at him, and realize it’s true. I never thought I would have a gorgeous mate that loves me and a baby. A family. Anything. Before the aliens grabbed me for their spaceship? My days were numbered.
“Because of the problem with your head?”
I still at his words. “My head?”
He nods slowly, his gaze fixed on me. “The healer said that your khui works hard because of a past issue in your head. That it is one reason why you struggled with carrying the kit. Your khui was tired.”
Oh. I nod slowly and stroke my fingers down the baby’s sleeping cheek. I keep my voice low and modulated so he can sleep. “There was something growing against my brain that should not have been there. It was going to kill me within a few months. I was terminal. I had no hope.”
“You never told me.”
“When I talked with the ancestor’s ship, it said I was healed. I didn’t think it would continue to be a problem.” I keep stroking my baby’s soft cheek. Of course, I also didn’t think I’d become a mommy.
“This means you must stay here, Har-loh.” His voice is soft and agonized. “I cannot take you away, not when you must be close to the heal
er. What if your khui grows tired again?”
“Oh.” I think of our seaside cave and I’m a little sad. I liked it there, but our current cave is cozy and there are so many people around to help out. “But I thought you didn’t like it here, Rukh.”
He’s silent.
The horrible worry gnaws in my belly and I remember what Georgie said. “You’re not planning on staying, are you?” I whisper.
The look Rukh gives me is agonized. “The thought of leaving you and our son tears me apart.”
“But you’re still considering it.” The words that come out of me are bitter, hurt.
“If I know the two of you are safe…maybe I can bear it then. All I know is that if I take you away with me again, I am destroying you.”
“The thought of you leaving destroys me too, Rukh. Are these people so very bad?”
“They are not my people.”
“They’re not mine either!” I gesture at my pale, freckled skin and red hair. “Do you think I chose to show up here? I didn’t! But these people are good, caring people. We could have a good life here! Together!”
He hangs his head. “The only memories I have left of my father are of him and his words of caution. Telling me to stay away from the bad ones. That they will destroy me.”
“But he’s dead and I’m here now.” I hold our son out to him. “Our baby is here now. How can you leave us?”
“I don’t want to.” He moves forward and takes the baby into his arms, and I see the love on his rugged face. It breaks my heart anew. Our family is so perfect – why doesn’t he see it? “But if I stay, does it mean that my father died for nothing?”
I know he’s attached to his father. I know his memories of him are the only memories he has of anyone at all. Of course he’s incredibly emotional about them. But what about me? Our child? I want to scream a protest. It’s clear that Rukh’s warring with his own internal demons. He moves closer to me and curls up next to me in the furs, and we cuddle, watching our baby sleep.
“Everything in me, everything that I am,” Rukh murmurs. “It tells me that I should be here, with you. Taking care of you and my child. But when I close my eyes, I see my father’s angry face. And I wonder how long it will be before someone pulls us apart like my father and my mother. To live here and not have you? That will destroy me more than leaving.”
I nestle my head against his shoulder, my heart hurting. He doesn’t trust these people not to hurt him, not to destroy his fragile happiness. I get it.
But at some point, he’s going to have to trust, because I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him.
Chapter Eleven
HARLOW
The next day, one of the hunters returns with the news that he’s found a small herd of sa-kohtsk, seven in total. One of them is a kit. It is this that will provide the khui for my tiny child. I worry every time he drifts to sleep, because he’s not thriving. Not yet. I think of the poison in the air, and I am frantic to get a khui inside him. I want to hear him crying out with strength, not with a weak, feeble wail.
I worry that he won’t have many more days left.
Because I’m still recovering from the birth, they load a sled – normally used for hauling meat – with furs and cushions, and the baby and I are settled onto it as the hunting party readies. Liz is at my side, practically bouncing with anticipation as the men go through last minute weapon checks. She flexes her hands. “Can I hold him? Please?”
Even though every inch of me wants to clutch the baby and shove my breast into his mouth again in the hopes he’ll feed a bit more, I reluctantly part with my bundle. She takes him in her arms and her expression softens with delight. “Oh my God, he’s the cutest.”
I feel a warm flush of motherly pride at that. “He is.”
“Look at those teensy horns! And the teeny weeny brow ridges!” Her voice turns into a coo. “You are just the most precious, aren’t you?”
The baby cries, weak and dispirited.
I hold my arms out, my breasts automatically starting to leak, and open my wrap to feed him. “He’s not as strong as he should be,” I tell Liz when she hands him back. “I’m so worried.”
“The cootie’ll fix that right up,” she assures me, patting the bow slung over her shoulder. “Did you guys decide on a name?”
I nod, pleased when the baby latches onto my breast and begins to feed hungrily. Every meal feels like a success. “We took the first parts of both of our names and came up with Rukhar.”
“Oh, I like it!”
“Me too.” It seems like a big, fierce name for such a tiny, scrawny baby, but he’ll grow into it.
“I wonder what mine will look like.” Liz pats her stomach dreamily.
“Bigger, I imagine,” I say, and try not to be envious of the thought. It’s not Rukhar’s fault he’s early and tiny. My body just couldn’t handle nourishing him for much longer. I feel like a bit of a failure at that.
But then Rukh comes to my side and touches my cheek, and it doesn’t matter. We’re going to get our baby a khui, and it will fix him.
Like it fixed me.
• • •
We travel for most of a day. Rukh pulls my sled and the other hunters keep pace with us, though I know they could go much faster. Liz walks beside me, chatting my ear off and holding the baby whenever I let her. I hand him off more often as the day goes on, because even just riding in the sled is exhausting, and ‘Auntie’ Liz is eager to get in her share of baby time. I doze fitfully, and my dreams are terrible ones full of worry and fear.
The slow thud and subsequent shake of the ground is what wakes me up. I sit up on my sled as another thud rocks the world, and realize we’ve stopped. It’s twilight, the suns fading into the purplish skies.
“Found ‘em,” Liz whispers.
In the distance, at the tree line, I see a few of the enormous heads of the sa-kohtsk. One grazes on the feathery tips of one of the pink trees. Another slowly rambles past, the thudding of its feet shaking the earth. They’re enormous, each as big as an airplane, and I worry all over again. I’ve seen them before, but I’ve forgotten how big they are. They’re grazers, but their sheer size and strength makes them dangerous.
Raahosh turns to the hunters, and his gaze flicks to Liz. “We’ll circle, look for the small one. If we can wound it, we can separate it from the herd. If not, we can try and run it down, corner it.” He nods at Rukh. “Are you ready?”
Rukh lets go of the sled pull and glances down at me. I want to protest that he doesn’t need to go, but he has to. This is for our baby.
Liz hands me Rukhar and I clutch him close. “You don’t want Rukh to stay with his mate?” Liz asks.
“Rukh is strong and fast. We need him,” Raahosh says. His gaze fixes on Liz. “You will stay with her.”
“You’re sidelining the vaginas?” Liz bellows. “The fuck, babe?”
“You cannot run, my mate.” He moves forward to her and pats her stomach, even though she tries to swat his hand away. “You are an excellent shot, but you do not need to race with the hunters to use your bow.” He kisses her brow. “Guard her.”
Liz grumbles, but doesn’t say anything else. I look over at Rukh and he touches my cheek, then joins the others. I love you, I think quietly. Stay safe.
It’s impossible not to think about the hunt that killed his mother and maimed his brother. Judging from the tense expressions on both Rukh and Raahosh, I’m not the only one thinking about it.
The men melt into the trees a few moments later, and then it’s just me and Liz sitting in the snow. Rukhar lets out a tiny wail and I automatically tuck him under my poncho-style tunic and offer him my breast.
“Well,” Liz says, and grabs the lead on my sled. “Let’s see if we can get a seat on the sidelines, I guess, and hope for a good show.”
I don’t care if the show is good. I just want to save my baby and have my mate come back to me in one piece.
RUKH
Raahosh has done this before,
the others tell me. When Maylak’s little Esha was born, when the women received their khui, and earlier, when Farli was born many, many seasons back. But each hunt is equally dangerous, and some of the hunters were out on the game trails and we could not wait for them to return. Every day is another that puts Rukhar at risk, so it must be now, and it must be this herd.
We approach. There are six strong men. I do not know all their names, and for some reason, that shames me. They all risk their lives for my son to have a chance at his. This realization goes through my mind over and over again. My own brother leads the pack, his spear at hand, a ‘bow’ like the one Leezh carries strapped over one shoulder.
The sa-kohtsk herd is fearsome up close. The creatures have enormous mouths that gape open as their heads swing back and forth, sifting the air. There are several adults, each one so large that one foot can crush a grown man. In the center of the herd, the kit stands near its mother. It is only half the size of the others, and it is our target.
Raahosh stops, and as the hunters gather, he gestures at the kit. “I have a clear shot of it from here. We can wound it, then stampede the herd. It will be left behind.” He motions for the men to pair off. “Chase the adults. Make noise, but be cautious you do not risk your life.”
The men nod.
“Make sure they do not turn. The women are behind us, and we do not want the sa-kohtsk running in their direction.”
A trickle of fear traces down my spine at the thought. Har-loh is weak, and Rukhar small and helpless…and both are far too close nearby for my liking. But they must remain close so Rukhar can receive his khui. My gut churns uneasily at the thought. The dangers are many.
The hunters ready their weapons. There are spears, slings, and several men carry wickedly sharp bone knives like my own. One of the sa-kohtsk lumbers past, ignoring us as small and insignificant, and I think of my father and the hunt to get my khui. Did he feel the same heart-pounding terror as I do? Did his gut clench when he realized he was putting his older son and his mate in danger? Or was he too reckless to care?
