Odin: Alien Adoption Agency #5

by Tasha Black

“How many sheep are missing?” the officer asked, whipping a tablet out of his vest pocket.

  “Three,” Liberty answered.

  “That could be a predator,” he told her. “We have lots of big cats in these parts.”

  “We have a tree-hound,” Liberty said. “And we saw no signs that a predator was involved. Have there been other livestock reported missing?”

  “Not that I know of,” the marshal said, rubbing his chin. “What type of sheep are these?”

  “Rainbow sheep,” Liberty answered.

  The marshal looked up and studied her face as if putting something together.

  “Valuable,” he said after a moment.

  “So I’m told,” Liberty said. “Not so valuable when they’re missing.”

  Odin barely suppressed a chuckle.

  “We’ll keep an eye out, madam,” the marshal said. “Give me your thumbprint, location and transmit digits.”

  She took the tablet and entered their information.

  “Thank you,” she told him, handing it back.

  “Stay safe out there,” he told her. “And a word of friendly advice - Lachesis is a frontier moon. It’s no place to be flaunting your wealth.”

  A wave of rage swept over Odin and he took a step forward.

  Liberty placed a hand on his arm.

  “We’re not as wealthy as we may seem,” she told the marshal. “The sheep are the birthright of this little adopted boy. They are all he has, and we are meant to raise and educate him with the proceeds from their wool. But we appreciate the advice.”

  “I see,” the marshal said, his expression softening. “I’ll do all I can to help.”

  “That means so much to us,” Liberty said. “Thank you.”

  She gave a slight bow and the marshal’s expression turned to gratified.

  Odin was so busy watching her performance that he had to scramble to follow when she turned and marched out.

  “How did you do that?” he demanded as soon as they were safely outside.

  “Do what?” she asked.

  “Make him like you?” he said. “Without batting your eyelashes at him.”

  “Should I have batted my eyelashes?” she asked in a teasing voice.

  “Absolutely not,” he growled before he could stop himself.

  “First of all, I told him the truth,” she said. “And he didn’t like me, he liked the idea of helping Colton. And who wouldn’t?”

  It sounded so reasonable when she put it like that. But Odin still couldn’t comprehend how she had done it.

  “He insulted you,” he said. “And you were nice to him.”

  “You have to give people the benefit of the doubt,” she said. “He wasn’t trying to offend me. He was trying to warn us. And when I took his warning at face value and told him what was going on, he decided to help us, right?”

  “Hm,” he said, thinking about it.

  “Anyway, let’s go to the feed place,” she said. “Maybe someone there will have info on any other missing livestock.”

  He looked across the street at Gynther’s Feed & Supply. There were a couple of customers inside. Maybe they would have some luck asking around.

  “Sure, sounds good,” he told her.

  “Maybe let me do the talking?” she suggested with a wink.

  He rolled his eyes and enjoyed the sound of her laughter.

  23

  Liberty

  Liberty waited in line at the feed supply store, with Odin behind her. The store was bustling, but everyone seemed focused on their business.

  “Good looking wee one,” an older gentleman with a bag of grain on his hip stopped to say. “Haven’t seen you folks around. I reckon I would’ve remembered.”

  “We’re new here,” Liberty said. “I’m Liberty, that’s Odin, and this is Colton.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” the man said. “Name’s Kaldy. Live down in the valley.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Liberty said. “We’re up on the mountainside, and we’re missing a few sheep. You haven’t heard anything about missing livestock, have you?”

  “Can’t say as I have,” Kaldy replied thoughtfully. “Got plenty a’ big cats up where you’re at though.”

  “Thanks anyway,” Liberty said.

  “Who’s next?” the proprietor called out from behind the counter.

  “Off you go, missy,” Kaldy said, giving her a friendly whack on the shoulder.

  She felt Odin go stiff beside her, so she grabbed his hand and headed up to the counter.

  They were going to have a hard time getting by in a small town if he was always this protective. She made a mental note to have a talk with him when they got home.

  “It’s nice to see some new faces,” the owner said with a big smile. He had a neatly trimmed white beard and dancing gray eyes. “I’m Bylbart, but you can call my Byl. Thank you for honoring my shop. How can I help you today?”

  “Hello, Byl,” Liberty said politely. “You have a lovely shop. I’m sure we’ll be here often.”

  Byl nodded in humble assent.

  “But today we came on horseback in a hurry, so we can’t pick up supplies,” she continued. “We raise sheep, up on the mountainside, but a few have gone missing. We’re asking around to see if anyone else is missing livestock.”

  “I’m real sorry to hear that,” Byl said with a sympathetic frown. “I haven’t heard about any missing livestock, but I’ll be sure to keep an ear to the ground. Do you want to leave me your transmission digits? I’ll send along a welcome packet too.”

  “Thank you,” she said, taking the tablet by the counter and entering their info.

  “Bring luck on Lachesis,” Byl said as they took their leave.

  Colton began to wiggle in the sling.

  “Hang on,” Liberty told Odin, pulling the baby out to cuddle him.

  “Hello, little one,” Odin said gently.

  The baby yawned and then banged his head on Liberty’s chest.

  “Oh, he’s hungry,” Odin said. “We have less than a minute before he starts screaming.”

  Liberty scanned the shop and saw a little table by the window. “Maybe we can sit for a moment and feed him.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Odin said. “We can decide what to do next.”

  They sat, and she pulled a cell of milk out of the auto-warmer in her bag. Colton latched right on and fed frantically.

  “Always sleeping or eating,” Odin said fondly. “It’s a good life.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Liberty said, gazing down at the sweet little face. “But soon he’ll get a little older and have a longer list of hobbies.”

  The cell was nearly empty already. He really was a good eater.

  A burst of pride warmed her heart, even though she knew it was ridiculous to be proud of her baby for eating quickly. It seemed like she was proud of everything he did.

  Another customer was at the counter now, chatting with Byl.

  She’d been too busy with Colton to notice anything about the transaction, but Odin was laser-focused on their conversation for some reason.

  “We have to go,” he murmured to Liberty as she tucked the empty cell into her bag and rubbed Colton’s back to get him to burp.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “That man just upped his feed order,” Odin said darkly.

  “Is that bad?” Liberty asked, trying to follow and get Colton back into his sling at the same time.

  “The feed he ordered is the same thing the rainbow sheep eat to supplement their grazing,” Odin said. “We’ve got a huge sack of it back at the barn.”

  “Probably a lot of animals eat that,” Liberty suggested.

  “Not that formula,” Odin said. “It’s got byzantine oil in it as a moisturizer for animals with chameleon color fur. That’s a very expensive additive.”

  “So no one would buy that unless they had rainbow sheep,” Liberty said.

  “Or another animal with color changing fur,” Odin said. “But I can�
��t think of another that lives on Lachesis.”

  “So we should ask if he’s missing any animals?” Liberty asked.

  “No,” Odin said quickly. “He’s obviously not missing any. He just upped his feed order.”

  Liberty’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what he was saying.

  Her eyes went to the man at the counter.

  He looked much like any of the other Terran farmers in the shop - older, wearing a worn but clean coverall, short gray beard and a cap with the name of a popular tool supply company.

  “Don’t look at him,” Odin whispered. “We don’t want to draw any attention. We’re going to let him walk out of here, and then we’re going to follow him.”

  24

  Odin

  Odin tied the stag-mare to a tree on the edge of the stranger’s farm, cursing himself inwardly as he did.

  What kind of idiot followed someone all the way to the top of Witch’s Peak on an espionage mission with his mate and child?

  But Liberty’s words to the marshal had stayed with him. The sheep were Colton’s birthright. Their wool was intended to raise and educate him. This man had no right to take that away.

  “No one steals from my son,” he muttered to himself.

  “What?” Liberty whispered.

  “Nothing,” he mouthed. “Wait here.”

  She shook her head emphatically and swung her leg over the mare’s back to dismount.

  “You can’t sneak onto a thief’s farm with a baby,” Odin whispered to her reasonably.

  “Well, I’m not sitting alone with a baby right outside of it,” she whispered back. “Besides, I’m responsible for Colton’s farm. This is something I can’t learn from a book.”

  He observed her.

  She stood her ground, feet shoulder-width apart, determination in her dark eyes.

  “Fine,” he sighed. “Stay close and don’t make a sound.”

  “We’ll do our best,” she said, her arm curving around Colton’s sling.

  “Gods,” Odin muttered darkly.

  But she paid him no mind and followed close at his heels as he slipped through the trees toward the farm.

  Neat rows of leafy green vegetables covered a field to their right, and a well-worn path on the left led between two rows of trees with puffy flowers.

  Odin went left and Liberty followed.

  After the two lines of trees ended, they reached a wooden paddock fence.

  “Stay by the trees,” Odin warned Liberty.

  He crept toward the paddock fence, checking in every direction for a camera or a farmhand.

  But the farm appeared to be low tech to the point of being old-fashioned, similar to their own.

  Odin gracefully hopped the fence and lowered himself slowly to the ground.

  The rails were a little far apart for sheep, but not impossibly far. He searched the wooden posts for the tufts of stray wool that were a sure sign it was a sheep paddock.

  Oddly, there were none.

  He continued along the fence line, wondering how many paddocks the farmer had.

  “Odin,” Liberty’s scream came from the trees.

  He spun around to see a massive nar-bull charging him, its single, cruel horn aimed for his chest.

  There was no time.

  The only thing he could do was shift. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t, but if this thing did him in, there would be no one to protect Liberty and Colton. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

  Odin called on the dragon and let down his guard fully for the first time in years.

  The dragon roared to the surface, sending lightning bolts of energy through Odin’s limbs.

  The paddock was losing color as his sense of smell increased a thousandfold.

  “Honna,” someone shouted.

  The nar-bull stopped in its tracks, turned, and trotted toward the fence.

  With a herculean effort, Odin was able to stop the shift.

  As the dragon howled out its agony in his head, he turned to see the farmer offering the odious bull an apple.

  “Son, I recommend that you get out of the paddock pronto,” the farmer said casually. “Honna likes an apple as much as the next nar-bull, but if you’re still there when he’s finished, he’s gonna pick up where he left off.”

  Odin took that excellent advice and swung himself over the paddock fence and onto the grass.

  “That’s better,” the farmer said. “Now what in tarnation are you doing here?”

  “We’re so sorry,” Liberty said, jogging up before Odin could speak.

  “Oh, howdy there, little lady,” the farmer said pleasantly. “Wait, didn’t I see you feeding your wee one at the feed store?”

  “You did,” she said, looking ashamed. “We should have spoken to you there, but we’ve been so worried…”

  “What’s wrong?” the man asked kindly.

  “This little boy, I just adopted him,” Liberty confided. “Odin and I are supposed to raise and protect him.”

  “Isn’t that lovely?” the farmer said contentedly.

  “We were given a farm and the most beautiful sheep,” she went on.

  “Rainbow sheep,” Odin put in.

  “Yes, rainbow sheep,” she said. “They belong to the baby. We’re supposed to use the funds from their wool to pay for his living and his education. But three have gone missing. The marshals don’t know anything. But we overheard at the feed store that you had just upped your order, and, well, I guess we jumped to conclusions.”

  “You wouldn’t know anything about our missing sheep, would you?” Odin asked.

  Liberty elbowed him mercilessly behind her back where the farmer couldn’t see it.

  “Of course he doesn’t,” Liberty scolded Odin. “Would a thief save a trespasser from a bull? Of course not. He would assume you were a thief too.”

  Odin opened his mouth and closed it again. It was actually sound logic.

  “Thank you, young lady,” the farmer said. “I’m Old Alney.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Old Alney,” Liberty replied. “I’m Liberty, that’s Odin and this sleepy boy is Colton.”

  “Good to make your acquaintance,” Old Alney declared. “Now, it seems to me that you two are missing a crucial piece of information.”

  “What’s that?” Liberty asked.

  “All the rainbow sheep on Lachesis are chipped,” he said wisely. “Let’s go get my scanner and I’ll show you.”

  He led the way down the path a little further and they came to a beautiful blue barn.

  “Here we are,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  They watched him amble to the barn and come back with a little device in his hands.

  “Take that,” he said, handing it to Odin. “Run a scan, like this.”

  He showed Odin how to run his finger along the line and tap the wide scan button.

  Odin held it out and slowly spun around.

  The device lit up as soon as he was pointing it west.

  “There you go,” Old Alney said. “Take us to them.”

  Sure enough, the next pasture was filled with rainbow sheep.

  “They’re so beautiful,” Liberty said.

  “That they are,” Old Alney agreed. “Now if you come up closer, you can scan each sheep. Make sure they’re mine, not yours.”

  Odin hopped the fence and got to work.

  Every single sheep scanned resulted in the little device popping up with the code ALNEYFARM and then a number.

  “The numbers are the identifiers for each individual sheep,” Old Alney told them. “Want to see why I needed to up my order?”

  Odin looked where he was pointing.

  Three of the sheep were clearly expecting.

  “The little ones grow fast,” Old Alney explained. “By the time he can up my special order, I’ll need it and badly.”

  “Congratulations,” Liberty told him with a smile. “That’s a wonderful reason to need more feed. We should talk with you about you
r breeding program.”

  “Of course,” Old Alney said proudly. “But first you need to find the rest of your flock. Why don’t you two keep the scanner for now? See if you can find your missing sheep.”

  “Thank you,” Odin told him sincerely. “We are in your debt.”

  “Nonsense, boy,” Old Alney scoffed. “But, say, my family will never forgive me if I tell them new neighbors were here and I didn’t introduce them, especially since you have the baby along. Can I prevail upon you to stop by the house before you go?”

  “We would be glad to,” Liberty said before Odin could make up an excuse.

  As they followed Old Alney toward his house, she reached out and squeezed Odin’s hand.

  Suddenly the wild events of the day didn’t seem so bad.

  The dragon snuffed contentedly in his chest, forgiving him for not shifting after all.

  Soon we will claim our mate…

  25

  Liberty

  Liberty followed Old Alney down the path with Odin’s hand wrapped around hers.

  When they came around the next bend, a picturesque scene was revealed to them.

  The Alney family sat at an enormous picnic table under the canopy of a beautiful old tree. Though they wore modest clothing, they could not have looked more fortunate.

  An older lady with her sliver hair in a bun, who must have been Mrs. Alney, laughed with her head tilted back as another woman spoke to her with twinkling eyes. The others were chatting and passing around large wooden bowls, laden with beautiful vegetables, stews, and a platter of puffy rolls that smelled like heaven.

  “I brought the neighbors,” Old Alney called out.

  “Welcome,” his wife cried. “Pull up a chair.”

  “Oh, we won’t interrupt you,” Liberty said.

  “Nonsense,” she said. “There’s plenty of food, and plenty of space for two more.”

  “Three more,” the woman beside her pointed out.

  “Oh, a little one,” Mrs. Alney said rapturously, getting up immediately to have a look.

  As if on cue, Colton stirred in the sling.

  “Let me get him out so you can see him,” Liberty offered.