Sarazen's Hunt

by Isabel Wroth

  Alec looked at it, like she might do just that, but after a long moment of deadened silence she lifted her cold fingertips and slid her palm into his.

  “Her body?” she whispered. Her voice hoarse and strained from her screams.

  “Will be taken care of with the utmost respect.” His assurance made her nod.

  She didn’t fight. Didn’t argue. Didn’t offer an opinion. She let him urge her forward away from her sister, with no resistance.

  “Do you wish to be alone, or with your people?”

  “Alone,” she answered dully.

  Kalix took her up to his quarters and watched her look around at the space unburdened with anything beyond necessities.

  Alec said nothing, but he could tell she was unsure where to go, what to do. As though she was lost and now had no one to show her the way.

  “These quarters are yours. A warrior will be stationed nearby if you require anything. The cub will ask to be with you, will you permit it?”

  Alec ducked her head, her fingers straying to the pouch on her hip, trembling for a moment before she tucked them into a fist and lowered her hand back to her side.

  “Yes. But not tonight. Today. Whatever it is.”

  *****

  Kalix watched Alec via the monitor in the command center. It was an invasion of her privacy, and he’d had to override several controls to gain access to the security monitors in his quarters. But he didn’t have any other way to care for her without bonding to her.

  For three human days Alec did nothing but lay in his bed and sleep. She didn’t get up to use the facilities, didn’t use the enzyme wash, and didn’t eat or respond at all when the warrior Kalix had assigned to keep watch on her entered the room.

  “The cub wishes to speak to you, Commander.”

  Kalix looked up from his constant vigil and found Dax frowning at him. His second hadn’t stopped frowning since he’d walked onto the command deck three cycles ago.

  Kalix didn’t need to catch the warrior’s scent to know Dax disapproved of his decision to not bond with Alec.

  “Bring him up.”

  Dax inclined his head tightly, leaving his post to go and fetch the cub himself.

  It almost made Kalix smile to see the wide-eyed wonder of the young male when he stepped onto the command deck.

  He was carrying a satchel far too large for him, clutching it like a prized possession to his chest while he looked around curiously.

  Dax herded the cub up the stairs to where he sat waiting, and when the cub saw him, his throat worked loudly as though worried. The boy smelled nervous, sweating a little as he came forward.

  “You wished to speak with me?” Kalix prompted.

  The young one nodded, his arms tightening around the satchel before he reluctantly took it off and held it out to him,

  “I... I know you said Alec doesn’t blame me, but she doesn’t want to see me.

  “The big guy outside her quarters said um, said maybe you might be able to speak to her? If you do, could you give her this? It’s her bag, and it um, it has some stuff in it she might want. Need.”

  Dax crossed his arms behind the cub, looking at Kalix expectantly. Like it was his duty to take the satchel and do as the cub asked.

  Kalix wanted to sigh, to tell the cub he had other responsibilities that needed seeing to, but his beast slashed at his insides insistently. Continuing to do so until Kalix accepted the satchel from the cub and nodded.

  “It is not that she doesn’t wish to see you, cub. She grieves.”

  The young one ducked his head and nodded, reaching up to grab a fistful of his hair, pulling at it like the pain would help him to focus.

  “I know. She’s alone now, without Meg so... so I... well, there’s some of Meg’s stuff in there too. I know Alec wouldn’t want it to get lost. Thanks. For seeing me. I should um, go back to the others.”

  Dax took the cub back, his hand on the young male’s shoulder to guide him, offering later to show he and the other cubs their training room.

  Kalix sat in his chair and returned to watching Alec sleeping.

  FIVE

  Her body felt like lead, her insides as hollowed out as Meg’s had been. Alec didn’t know how long it would be before she felt anything but empty.

  How long it would be before she could think past the fact she was alone now. The person Alec had literally been with since before birth was gone.

  How had the others done it? They hadn’t shared a womb, hadn’t shared a heartbeat or looked at their sibling and seen their own face looking back at them.

  How had they been able to move on after their brothers, their sisters, mothers, fathers, sons or daughters died?

  Alec opened her eyes, not wanting to see Meg’s face as it had been in her last moments, so ravaged and sunken. The lifelessness and total lack of her dopey, hopeful expression.

  Where had hope gotten them? Why Alec had ever let herself feel that treacherous emotion, she didn’t know.

  Alec turned on her side, blinking to see Kalix’s enormous frame right in front of her. He was sitting in a chair not far from the bedside, his elbow on the armrest, fingers splayed over the side of his face while he stared at her.

  The second Alec looked at him, he spoke like he’d been waiting for her to wake up. How long had he been there?

  “Is it your intention to die with your sister?”

  The harshness of his voice was like a solid slap to the cheek. It made her flinch in surprise, in pain.

  It was the first time Alec had felt anything other than emptiness since she had walked out of the med bay.

  “W-what?” Her throat was dry, scratchy and tight, making her question sound like a strangled croak.

  Kalix waved his hand at the room, at her, “You have not left this bed for three of your Earth days. You will not eat. Will not see the cub.

  “The only conclusion I have come to while sitting here watching you sleep is that you wish to die as well.”

  Alec lay there staring, considering what he’d said. Was that what she was doing?

  “If that is your wish, I will say that I am disappointed. I was told humans were more resilient.

  “You cheapen your sister’s sacrifice, disrespect her memory if you choose to leave her cub alone. He thinks you blame him, by the way.”

  Alec knew what he was doing. She’d done it often enough to her people when they’d given up their will to fight. She wondered if her words to them had cut as deeply as Kalix’s did to her.

  She knew she was enraged by his suggestion that she would let her sister, her twin, have died for nothing. Yet Alec barely felt it.

  Like she was split in half, her soul on one side, her body on the other.

  But he was right. Meg would be pissed off, give her the ass chewing of a lifetime if Alec just lay down and let herself waste away without the excuse of being chock full of life-sucking parasites.

  Alec threw the blankets back and pushed herself up, wondering when the last time she’d felt this weak. She supposed going three days without food or water would do that to a girl.

  The enzyme shower felt as good as it had last time. The sweet smelling foam peeled the layers of scuz from inside her mouth.

  Alec wished it had the power to scrub off the layers of blood soaked into her hands, the feeling of pain that hovered just beyond her reach.

  Alec knew it would come back and flood through her eventually. Nothing could be done about it except to fight it off as long as possible, and Kalix had a point. Zhenya would need her now. He had no one else.

  She walked out of the bathroom, feeling like she was dragging lead weights behind her, coming up short to see Kalix setting a tray of food down on the low table beside the one lounge, and her satchel down beside it.

  “The cub asked me to give that to you.”

  A wicked tendril of pain snuck past the barrier separating it from her body, and like the lash of a live wire it left a burning streak behind that throbbed and ached.


  “His name is Zhenya.” Alec grunted.

  The big mook watched her eat, declining when Alec offered to share. Kalix identified the items for her, but she didn’t remember what he’d said.

  It tasted strange, the different items, not bad, just strange after having only the same things for so long. Alec ate her fill, putting off opening her satchel for as long as she could, but it had to be done.

  Meg’s memory pouch was right on top, like it was waiting for her. The tears came, Alec felt the wetness of them on her face, but she didn’t feel anything else.

  The leather was smooth, supple from so much use, the items inside neatly organized and ready to be taken out.

  The old disk Sage had given Meg, needle and thread, the fine-toothed comb, small weights, little pieces of metal Meg had painstakingly made.

  Alec’s throat got tight as she touched each of the items as she took them out and lay them on the lounge beside her. Neatly, in order, and took the coils of Meg’s hair from the pouch on her hip.

  “What is it you’re doing?”

  Alec didn’t look up at Kalix’s question, rubbing the curly hank of hair in her hand, wondering if the enzyme was responsible for making it so soft.

  “It was something Meg used to do. Something Sage taught her.” Alec’s fingers moved to twist and comb the silvery skein, separating the two lengths, finding some strange sort of peace as her hands formed the familiar pattern.

  “Sage was into all kinds of crafting. Things to keep her hands busy. She said it helped her to do something good for the community, while distracting her from missing her daughter.

  “It’s a twelve strand braid. Mostly we used it to make ropes that wouldn’t break. Meg used it to make memories. I thought it was stupid the first time she did it.”

  Alec folded the length of hair in half, sewing the two sides together to make a little loop at the end. Even halved, the strand was over a foot long.

  “Sage gave Meg that pouch,” Alec nodded to where it rested. “It had all kinds of crafty things inside it. Beads, little charms, feathers Sage collected because they were beautiful. The first person I killed after we realized it was the only way to keep the infection from spreading? Her name was Friga.

  “The next day, Meg gave this bracelet made of Friga’s hair to her daughter. It had a few beads dangling from the end, green ones that reminded Meg of Friga’s eyes.

  “I must have been off in the corner puking my guts up when Meg took the lock of her hair. Liliya was fourteen then. She still wears it.”

  Alec wiped at the tears on her face, more out of annoyance and not being able to see, rather than because she felt the emotion.

  She took the length and pulled it through the center of the disk, arranging the bright strands of Meg’s hair in the soft little slots around the edge of the wheel. She hooked one of the weights to the bottom and carefully began the weave.

  “And now you make one for her cub. For Zhenya,” Kalix murmured, compassion deepening his voice.

  Her shoulder lifted while she focused on making the braid snug, tight. The curl of the hair made it more difficult, requiring more focus.

  “And for me.”

  Kalix was silent for a long time. She almost preferred it, able to give her complete focus to the movements of the braiding.

  One up, one down, turn. One up, one down, turn.

  “There are no beads left,” he finally commented.

  Alec nodded, lifting her chin at the dwindling pile of metal bits. “Meg ran out after Kiev. He was the fiftieth I had to kill.

  “Meg started using bits of metal she collected and cut up from some of the pieces we had of the Sestrenka. Used a knife I made her to scratch their initials onto it.”

  More of a little toothpick, really. But it was sharp enough to make an impression on the starship’s metal.

  “How many did you grant mercy?”

  A humorless laugh left her, an unpleasant sound, but it was all Alec had. “There’s no need to make it sound pretty. I killed my people because it was the only way to help them.”

  Kalix didn’t argue the reality of what she’d had to do, but she could practically feel his displeasure from the space between them.

  “How old were you, the first time?”

  One up, one down, turn. One up, one down, turn.

  The rhythm of it, the focus it took to maintain the weave and not allow it to be too loose, or to allow the springy curls to make a bump or twist in the strand, was soothing. Alec didn’t have to think or feel. She could just focus. Keep the pain away.

  “Sixteen.”

  “You honored them,” Kalix rumbled gravely. “Them and the others for whom you shouldered such a heavy burden, and allowed them to live with Meg’s memory of their loved one.

  “Not the memory of having to kill their flesh and blood. If it had been easy for you, it would not have been right.”

  Kalix left after dropping that bomb on her, after making her question the view she’d taken on the illustrious honor it had been to be the Firstborn on Moika.

  Alec shoved it away, not ready to open that can of worms and start sorting through them.

  A while passed. The only way she knew it had been more than a few minutes was the length of the weave now hanging from the center of the disk.

  The sound of the door whisking open made her lift her head, blinking when she saw Zee hesitating in the doorway, looking at her with uncertainty, as though anticipating her anger, or waiting for her to scream at him to go away.

  Alec managed a weak smile, tilting her head to silently invite him in.

  He practically ran to where she sat, chewing on his lip hard when he saw what she was doing. Zee clenched his jaw, sucking in his breath hard, choking back a little sound.

  If he fell apart, so would she, and Alec was not ready to suffer through that again. Not now. Maybe never. So she stopped working the disk and reached inside her bag for the old, tattered copy of The Wizard of Oz.

  “Read to me.”

  Zhenya nodded jerkily and took the book from her with shaking hands, sitting on the ground beside her, his head resting close to her knee while he opened the book Meg had read a thousand times, and started from the beginning.

  “‘Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies with Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer's wife....’”

  *****

  While Kalix worked, he listened to the cub, to Zhenya, reading a tale of fantasy to Alec.

  It was a strange story, of a girl and her pet, transported to another world via a cyclone of air.

  He found it illogical that a human would survive winds strong enough to lift entire dwellings into the air.

  It must have been one of those furry tails Tarek had mentioned Clary would retell to their cubs.

  Zhenya read about a great magician, and the human female’s quest to seek him out in order to return home, meeting creatures along the way to help her, including a cat that was ‘scaredy.’ Kalix tried to picture it, the image of a cowardly Sarazen beast escorting this young female.

  Interesting.

  There was a witch too, a wicked one in possession of winged primates of hideous visage and foul tempers.

  Overall it was enjoyable to listen to, interrupted only briefly when A’tarey brought the midday meal for the two humans in Kalix’s quarters.

  He listened in to see if any further conversation would be had, if Alec would engage the cub. But there was only silence until Zhenya began to read his furry tail again.

  Kalix wondered if the cub would have night terrors after reading about a race of odd, singing beings called Munchkins. They sounded like repulsive creatures.

  Kalix waited until the cub had fallen asleep before returning to his quarters, finding the young male curled on the lounge with his head in Alec’s lap.

  She was staring at him, twisting her fingers around and around in his hair. A glance to the lounge had Kalix’s gaze falling on the two long ropes of braided hair l
ying beside her.

  Kalix took a deep breath, uncertain how she would respond to what he had done, but there was no turning back now.

  The sorrow in her expression had done little to bring the sparkle back to her eyes, but he felt the zing of recognition all the same; the deep, undeniable knowledge this human was his mate.

  Kalix expected his beast to rage at him that the cub of another was so intimately curled against Alec, but the contrary creature was pleased. Relieved even. Identifying the reasons why that was, was not why he’d come.

  Kalix crossed the room to kneel in front of Alec, hoping she would not be upset by what he’d done.

  “I have not yet given an apology for having failed you.”

  She ran her tongue under her lips and inhaled slowly, shielding her eyes from him when she looked back down to the cub. Shaking her head in such a way that Kalix thought perhaps she was rejecting his attempt.

  “When you contacted us, the message you gave... you did not promise you would save anyone. You said you had medical equipment, that you would try, and if you couldn’t do anything you were able to offer a painless death.

  “You kept your word. I know you tried. Shit, literally every man on this ship tried. There wasn’t anything else to be done.”

  Alec humbled him with her words, the truth in the scent she gave, but there was anger there too. Deep, burning anger that could not be soothed with mere words.

  “I have something I would like to give you, if you will accept it.”

  Alec frowned at him uncertainly, looked down at the hand he held out to her for a moment, as though deciding whether or not she would be able to stand touching him.

  Her fingers lifted from the cub’s hair, and slowly she lay her palm in his, swallowing thickly when Kalix gave a gentle squeeze and turned it over, carefully spilling the contents of what he had carried with him into the callused center of her hand.

  Alec’s lips twitched, pressed together, rolled before she licked across the dry swells, the scent of her sorrow intensifying while she looked at what Kalix had given her.

  “What are they?” she rasped, using her thumb to turn each one over, inspecting the four small crystals he had pressed into a bead of ore.