by Avery Kloss
“Why can’t she do something with the poor child?”
“They often cry for no reason.” Kia froze then, drawing in a sharp intake of breath. “Don’t move.”
Her tone sent terror through me, knowing we were in danger. “What?”
“Ara, don’t move. Stay where you are.”
“Why on earth—” Her mouth fell open, as she gasped sharply.
Two big cats had sauntered into camp, the animals the most dangerous I had ever seen. These four-legged beasts sported brown fur, their paws the size of two of my fists combined. A memory stirred, of a time before I came to know Kia and Ara—a time where I once walked a dry, open plain … the grass as brown as these animals.
I watched, as the creatures ventured through the camp, proudly sniffing here and there, the bigger of the two having an enormously bushy head, his snout black, while wide eyes glowed amber. A rumble came from him, the sound threatening.
“We should run,” I whispered, shivering.
“Don’t be stupid. They’ll pounce on you.” Our fire burned brightly, and Kia threw in the remaining wood, creating an even bigger one. “Gather near, but walk slowly.”
I could barely think straight, resisting the urge to run, which seemed like the only sensible thing to do. Staying would surely mean our deaths. Ara and I approached carefully, standing beside Kia with the heat of the blaze before us.
“They don’t like fire.”
“What about the woman over—” And then I heard her scream, the sound shattering. “No,” I cried, tears filling my eyes.
“There’s nothing we can do.” Kia gripped the stick, although it would not protect us from these fierce predators. “They’ve found their meal. They’ll leave now.”
A high, sharp-pitched scream filled the air, a low growl following this. I stared in the direction of that camp, seeing one of the animals with the baby in its mouth, darting into the forest with it. I grabbed onto Ara, clinging to her, praying she might provide safety. Kia stood with her feet apart, her sturdy legs like small tree trunks, her expression resigned.
“The danger hasn’t passed yet.”
Another animal encircled the cooking fire, which smoked, the sound of the woman crying out again, although it wasn’t as loud. “What’s happening?”
“They’re feasting.”
“On … on … her?”
“Yes.”
“Will they come and eat us too?”
“No.”
“How do you know? Maybe there are more?” It felt like an eternity before she answered me, her expression concerned. “Mamma?”
“Help comes,” she said tonelessly.
My eyes darted back and forth, seeing movement in the trees, men appearing. Breathing a sigh of relief, I slumped to the ground, one hand clutching at Ara’s leg. The woman’s screams carried far enough to alert those nearest of the danger, but … they would be too late to rescue mother and child. A horrible sense of guilt left me feeling low, the thought that we could have done something to save them drifting through my mind.
The men held antlers tapered to form spear-throwers, while others affixed sharpened stone to wood, holding the weapons before them. One of the animals darted into the forest, a chunk of human flesh in its mouth, while the other growled viciously, the sound terrifying to hear.
Ara bravely stood, while I had fallen to the ground, although I got to my feet now, as the men cornered the animal, a few throwing spears, while others waited, preparing to throw. Ronan and Enwan stood among them, although further back. Seeing the smoke of our large fire, Ronan spied us, suddenly darting in our direction. I ran towards him before he had even crossed halfway through the camp, flinging myself at him.
“Are you and your mother and sister well, Peta?” He caught me, lifting me into his arms, where I wrapped mine around his neck. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” I sniffed, entirely relieved by his presence. “We heard them. We saw them too, but they went after the baby.” He smelled musky, his body slick with perspiration. Grime clung to his naked torso, the muscles there rippling, sinew lacing his arms and neck. “We didn’t do anything to help them.”
“There was nothing you could do, little one.” Reaching our fire, he held me still, eyeing my mother and sister. “How fare you?”
“Well enough,” murmured Kia. “I kept my girls safe.”
He nodded. “Good. You could have easily been killed.”
“They don’t like fire.”
His eyes drifted over my face, a smile appearing. “No. You were wise to make a big one. I’m glad you’re well. When I heard the scream, my first thought was of you or your family. It gladdens me to see you all alive.”
“But that poor woman. That child … ”
“It’s unfortunate.” He bent to place me on the ground, but I held on tightly, not wishing to let go. “I need to wash.”
“Then take me too.”
“You hate baths, Peta.” Kia eyed us. “Or did you forget?”
“I … could use a wash.”
Ronan laughed, “It’s fine. I’ll take her with me. I can feel her trembling. She’s scared to the bone.”
“She’s weak,” murmured Kia. “She could never survive on her own.”
“Then you’ll have to teach her all you know.” The humor vanished from his tone.
My mother failed to reply, crossing her arms over her chest. She glanced at Ara. “Go wash too, girl. You’ve a need.”
“Yes, Mamma.” She followed us.
Ronan dropped the spear on the pelt near his fire, while Enwan labored to cut the meat they found. Once at the river, the water rushed so quickly, churning up the silt from beneath. We waded in together, my arms secure around Ronan’s corded neck. Ara stayed close to the rocky bank, while we entered fully, the current surging around us.
Finding it exhilarating, I laughed, tossing my head back, while sunlight fell to my face. Having escaped death not that long ago, I relished the feel of the cold water against my skin, not hating it as before. Ronan dunked his head under, while an arm remained around my back, the feeling secure. Rinsing his hair, he gargled with water, spraying it in a fine line. I floated, kicking my feet, and then realizing he no longer held me. Stunned, I drifted away, screaming. Fingers closed about my wrist.
“Where are you going?” he chuckled.
“You can’t let me go.” Snaking my arms around his neck, I shivered.
“You’re cold.”
“I don’t like this water. I like warm water.”
“I see.”
“We used to have it in the cave every so often, but never here.”
“Perhaps one day you’ll find warm water again. It boils in the ground near some mountains.”
“I’d like that.”
“A swim in boiling water?” An eyebrow shot up, mirth shining in his eyes.
“No, silly. Warm water. Boiling would kill me.”
He waded to the rocky embankment, lowering me to the ground. “I need to clean off better than this. You’re amusing, but I’ll never get anything done with you around. Wait here.”
I sat, watching Ara, who scrubbed her hair, water sluicing from dark shoulders, her torso bare. They returned a moment later, naked and wet, although I marveled at the differences in their physiques, Ara short and stout, while Ronan appeared long and lean, his skin substantially lighter in color, even bronzed from the sun. I finally understood that they were not the same sort of people, like the creatures earlier in camp could never be compared to one of our stray dogs. They were a different species altogether. I pondered this, as Ronan approached with dripping wet hair.
“I’m starved,” he said, reaching for me.
As natural as drawing in air to breathe, I clung to him, shivering with wetness, yet utterly content. Ara followed, her expression dour. She stopped walking at our camp, while I continued, settling comfortably on Ronan’s pelt, while Enwan cooked meat, the smell delicious.
Chapter Eight
Only
a few men left to hunt the next day, the rest staying behind. A somber mood prevailed, funeral preparations under way for the woman and her child, the husband and son grieving. One by one, each family visited with them to pay their respects, and I did so for my family, knowing they would reject Kia and Ara. I wanted to avoid an unpleasant scene.
We sat together making an offering, a beaded necklace of wood dunked in dye derived from plant material. Purple stained my hands. I had gotten some on my arms too. Ara hummed to herself, clumsily working a strip of leather through the tiny hole in the bead. At this rate, it would take her all day to complete the task. I waited patiently until she became utterly frustrated, tossing the necklace my way.
“I’ve done what I can,” she muttered, a disappointed look on her face. Gazing into the distance, a frown appeared.
“I’ll finish it.” I adored this particular task, fingering each wooden bead, admiring how round they were. We had carved them many moons ago, never having the time to make anything until now.
Ronan strode towards us barefoot. A thin sheath of leather hung over his manhood, secured by a knotted strip of leather. “I thought you might be hungry.” A smile crinkled the edges of his eyes, as he squatted next to me. “That looks pretty, Peta.”
“Thank you. My sister did most of it.”
He glanced at Ara. “You’ve done a fine job.”
The praise caught her off-guard, her scowl vanishing. “Thank you.”
Holding up the partially finished necklace, I admired how lovely it was, the beads round and purple. “I wish I could wear this. It’s a shame it’s being given to a dead woman.”
“Peta!” admonished Ara. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”
“I know.” I shrugged, fingering the small beads. “So pretty.”
“Enwan’s cooking meat. He’ll bring over a portion to share.” Ronan stared at me, as I continued to admire Ara’s work. “Do you have the stone I gave you, Peta?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Why don’t you give it to me.”
“But I love it! Please don’t take it away.” Why would he do such a thing? It had been a gift.
“I’m not taking it away, girl.” He glanced at Ara. “Give me your stone too. I can make you both a necklace.”
My concern vanished. “A necklace?”
“Yes. Go get your stones.”
I found mine in a small leather pouch, giving it to him, while Ara handed hers over. I eyed him expectantly, wondering what he planned.
“This won’t take long.” He stood, striding back to his fire, where Enwan grilled something that smelled delicious.
“You spend a great deal of time with him,” murmured Ara.
I worked the necklace, affixing another bead. “He’s nice to me.” I eyed her. “He’s nice to you too.”
She nodded absently, staring towards their fire, smoke billowing. “Yes, but they’d never let me sleep with them. He’s never taken me into his arms. He wouldn’t touch me.”
“You could ask him to,” I giggled.
This did not amuse her, her look pensive. “I won’t ever find a mate with this tribe.”
Being as young as we were, speaking of such things perplexed me. “Why would you need one? We’re managing on our own.”
“Not at all. Don’t you remember how harsh life was on the open plain?”
I searched my memory, feelings of cold and hunger returning. “I … believe so.”
“I’m older than you by a few seasons. I remember.”
Kia, who had disappeared into the forest, returned. Out of curiosity, I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Lascox emerging on the other side. I knew intuitively they had been together in the woods—mating. Once at our fire, she sat next to me, her feet covered in mud.
“We’ll wash up before the burial. They’re almost ready. How’s the offering coming along?”
I threaded a few more beads. “Almost done.”
“It looks good. It’s not as fancy as shells, but it’s all we have to give.” She pursed her lips, gazing towards the leader’s fire, where he stood with his wife and children, a few dogs at their feet. As if knowing they were being watched, his wife, Ola, looked our way, a look of displeasure hardening her features.
“You should make a fire,” I said. “Ronan’s bringing the meat.”
“That’s kind of him. He’s a good man. I can trust you with him.”
“He’s making something special for Ara and me, Mamma. I can’t wait to see it.”
“I’ll get a few pieces of wood. We’re running low. We should’ve foraged today, especially since we didn’t go yesterday.”
“I can do it.”
“No, Peta.” She frowned. “It’s not safe.”
“What do you mean?”
“Those creatures that ate the baby might return. They obtained an easy meal here. They won’t soon forget it.”
Something tightened in my chest, the feeling awful. “Are we in danger?”
“He said he’d keep men at camp—a few—for the protection of those staying behind.”
She spoke of a private discussion with Lascox. “That’s a sound idea.”
“But we must remain vigilant. Something as small as you would appeal to them. They could carry you away easily enough.”
I shivered at the thought, threading another bead. “I don’t want to go foraging anymore.”
“We have little choice in the matter, but we won’t go alone.” She took the necklace from me, holding it up. “This is finished enough. It’s stupid to make such a fine thing for a dead person. My people would never be bothered with this.”
“I still have to tie it off.”
She shook her head. “What a waste of beads.”
I always wondered about her past. “What would your people have done?”
“Dug a hole and buried the corpse. We would’ve honored the person by remembering them warmly in our hearts, if the person was good.”
I pondered that. “What if the person was bad?”
“They’d be left to rot in the open.”
That sounded harsh. “I see.” Ronan drew near, carrying something in both hands. “Here he comes!” I tossed the necklace to Ara. “Tie that off.” Excited to see what he had done with my stone, I waited eagerly for him, a smile on my face. “What did you make?”
“Here is some meat.” He handed the basket to Kia. “It’s not much, but it’ll keep your belly happy.”
She nodded, accepting the offering. “Thank you, Ronan.”
He knelt before me, the leather skirt at his waist falling between muscled thighs. “This is for you.” He held out a length of leather, with the stone securely fastened to it, the top portion having been wrapped tightly. “Might I put it on?”
Excited by the prospect, I lifted the tangled mass of my hair, offering my neck to him. He leaned in, tying the leather. The purple stone hung to my chest. I fingered the pendant, never having seen anything so beautiful in my life.
“Oh, Ronan!” I flung myself into his arms, hugging him. “It’s wonderful!”
He chuckled, “I’m glad you like it.”
“I shall cherish it always. I’ll never take it off.” I wouldn’t let go of his neck, clinging to him. His skin smelled slightly musky, laced with a hint of evergreen from the forest. “I do love you so very much.” I kissed his cheek, feeling scratchy, coarse hair. “So much.”
“All right,” he laughed. “That’s enough.” He pried my arms free from around his neck, a grin etched into the swarthy planes of his face. “I’ve a gift for your sister too. You mustn’t be greedy, Peta.”
But you’re mine …
An inexplicable burst of envy rippled through me, the emotion unexpected. I had never felt this before, not liking it in the least, but liking his present to Ara even less. He gave her a similar pendant, her stone greyish in color, with a thin, green stripe down the center. Because of the oval shapes, they made ideal adornments. He affixed hers, leaning in close to do so,
not repulsed to touch her, so unlike the others of the clan.
“There you are.” He sat back on his heels, eyeing us with a grin. “It looks very pretty.”
Stunned by the gesture, Ara fingered the stone, her mouth slightly open. She examined it carefully, her eyes glinting with pleasure, watering oddly. Swallowing with effort, she nodded, not saying a word. Ronan had rendered her speechless.
“I can tell you like it. You’re welcome.”
Kia tossed a few pieces of meat onto a flattened rock, producing smoke and sizzle, the smell wafting into the air. “You’re spoiling my daughters.”
“It was nothing. I had leather left over from some other project.” His gaze settled on me. “That color suits you, Peta.”
I fingered the stone, the length smooth and cool, the color my favorite. “I shall treasure it all my life.”
He ruffled my hair. “Perhaps one day you’ll have a husband who brings you ivory and shells.”
My eyes widened at the prospect. “And a pelt made of the softest fur.”
“I don’t see why not. It’s a cheerful thought, isn’t it? On a sad day such as this, it’s good to have something nice to distract us.”
I frowned remembering the burial. “Yes.”
“I’ll leave you to your food then.” He got to his feet. “It won’t be long until the ceremony. They’ll wish to start before the sun goes down.”
“Thank you for your kindness, Ronan,” said mamma. “You’ve been more than generous.” She stood with her back to the cooking fire, her expression stern, yet appreciation and respect shone in her eyes. “You’re a good man.”
He nodded. “You’ve done well with your girls. I wish you the best of luck for the future, Kia.”
“I never think more than a few days ahead. Any more than that is a waste of time.”
Chapter Nine
As luck would have it, a few moments before the burial ceremony, a stiff wind blew in ominous-looking clouds, dark and grey, threatening moisture. Having gathered with our clan before a pit in the earth, we gazed upon a woman, her eyes closed, her body hidden beneath decorated leather, beads and feathers. She wore dozens of necklaces, her wrists encased in wooden bracelets. Fragrant flowers filled the air with a sweet, pleasing scent, the body surrounded by the colorful offerings. Her baby had never been found, the animals carrying it away—disappearing into the woods.
