by Rinelle Grey
Nerris nodded. “There are, yes. All up, we have a total of eleven children under ten years old. With a total of around forty adults of childbearing age, all actively trying to achieve a pregnancy, that number is frighteningly small. The next generation will barely have a choice of partners who aren’t related to them in some way. Can you blame us for looking to expand those numbers?”
Tyris was silent. Not having any children himself, and never having spent much time around them, he hadn’t really noticed their absence. But Nerris was right, the numbers were alarmingly low.
How could he judge them? What right did he have?
Chapter 14
Marlee sat bolt upright in bed, jolting Tyris from a sound sleep.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.
Even before she answered, he heard it—the sound of panicked animals. Chickens squawked loudly, sheep and goats bleated. Any trace of sleepiness fled.
“The animals! Something’s wrong.” Marlee jumped out of the bed and pulled on her coat as she spoke, reaching for her boots.
It took long, agonising moments to get ready just to step out the door. But leaving the house without putting on warmer clothes was suicidal. The sound of the animal’s distress pushed them faster. Tyris raced out into the snow after Marlee, pulling on his boots as he went. Other villagers poured out of their houses, but Tyris and Marlee were the first to reach the barn. Even before he yanked open the heavy door, Tyris could see the red glow from the windows.
“The barn’s on fire!”
Marlee’s breath hitched. “Oh no.”
Now that he could see inside, it wasn’t as bad as Tyris had first feared. The back corner of the barn blazed, but the chickens that usually lived there could fly. They squawked around the barn, stirring up the other animals even more, but they didn’t seem hurt.
One of the oil lamps that tricked the chickens into laying in winter, lay on its side in the straw. The fire must have started there. But it was spreading quickly.
Chickens squawked and flapped out the door around him. “Get the goats out,” Tyris shouted to Marlee as he headed towards the blaze, where the sheep bleated in terror and ran circles around their pen.
Smoke filled the barn. Tyris pulled his coat across his mouth, coughing. He opened the gate, but the sheep continued to run in circles, either too scared or too stupid to figure out they could escape.
Tyris never thought he’d risk his life for an animal, but he knew how important they were to the villagers and his survival. He glanced at the fire, took a deep breath, and ran into the pen. Yelling and waving his arms, he chased the sheep out of the gate, down the path to the main doors, and out into the snow next to Marlee.
The villagers had not been idle while he’d been chasing the animals. The adults formed a line and passed buckets of water hand to hand, throwing them onto the fire. Children ran the empty buckets back to the well. Another group had broken a window and shovelled snow through it onto the fire.
Though their efforts slowed the fire’s spread, they were making no real progress in extinguishing it. It seemed hopeless.
Perhaps they could put it out before it reached the hay if they had a fire hose, but with buckets and shovels? Tyris’s heart wrenched to think that the animals he’d saved from the blaze would probably starve to death. If they didn’t freeze first.
The fire began to creep up the walls of the chicken enclosure. Desperation fluttered in Tyris’s chest as flames licked up to the roof. The thatch caught, and burned rapidly, and a lump of snow fell through, smothering a patch of flames.
A large enough amount of snow would put out the fire almost as quickly as water. Even as the idea came to him, Tyris raced to the corner of the barn where stacks of firewood reached the roof. He glanced around frantically. Sure enough, buried deep in the chopping block was an axe. He pulled it free, and ran back towards the flames.
He hesitated for a moment. His plan was crazy and would destroy a quarter of the barn. But the strange build, in four separate sections, meant he just might be able to save the rest of it. He watched the flames lick closer to the poles that divided the barn into sections. Once they went, it would be too late. He had to act now. He lifted the axe and stepped towards the flames.
“Tyris, no!” Marlee’s scream rose above the sound of the crackling flames, but he didn’t stop. The other villagers must have realised his plan because as he came dangerously close to the flames near the central pillar that held up the roof in the chicken pen, he felt buckets of water being thrown at his feet.
He swung the axe as hard as he could, but even so it took several agonizing moments for him to cut through the thick trunk. When it only stayed upright by a splinter, he dropped the axe. Using all his strength, he pushed the pole, hoping to shift its weight away from himself.
The pole creaked and groaned. Tyris jumped back and turned to run.
He barely managed to take a step before snow smashed into his back, throwing him to the ground. The fall knocked all the air out of his lungs, and even once the world stopped spinning, he struggled to breathe with the pressure on his chest. Luckily a pile of thatch had fallen across his face, creating a pocket of air around his mouth and nose. Dimly he heard the villagers shouting, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying through the snow.
He only hoped that the fire was out.
*****
Marlee felt time slow down as Tyris ran into the middle of the fire with the axe. As he chopped at the central pole, her breath caught in her throat. When the roof collapsed and he fell forward and disappeared beneath the snow and thatch, she couldn’t stifle the unconscious scream.
She ran towards where she had last seen him, stumbling over her skirts. She dropped to her knees. Ignoring the numbness of her fingers, she clawed at the snow. Where was he? She had to get him out.
Other hands joined her. Progress was agonisingly slow. They found his arm first, and Marlee jumped when it moved. He was alive. Tears froze half way in their journey down her cheeks. She held onto his hand tightly, sending him strength and hope with all her energy. With the other hand, she continued to dig.
It took a few more terrifying minutes before the back of Tyris’s head appeared. The first thing he said was, “Is the fire out?”
Only then did Marlee look around. The roof had fallen in completely in the corner of the barn, covering the fire in a foot of snow. Embers glowed in places around the perimeter and up the walls, but they were swiftly being extinguished by buckets of water and shovels of snow. The other three sections of the barn still stood, unharmed.
“Yes, the fire’s out,” she assured him.
Tyris relaxed at her words and closed his eyes, alarming her for a few minutes until she realised his back, which was rapidly being uncovered, still rose and fell. She squeezed his hand, relieved to get a squeeze in return even though he didn’t open his eyes.
A few moments later the villagers scraped the last of the snow from his legs. “Can you move?” Karla asked.
“I think so,” Tyris said as he carefully rolled over and sat up.
Marlee held her breath as Karla felt all down his body, paying particular attention to his back. “You seem to be in one piece,” she said finally. “You’d better get home and into some dry clothes. That snow is melting fast, and we don’t want you getting frostbite.”
Marlee needed no further urging. She helped Tyris to his feet, and after being sure he wasn’t going to fall, she pulled his arm around her shoulders and led him back to the house.
“Get those wet clothes off quickly,” she said, as soon as they were inside.
Marlee lit a lamp as Tyris pulled off the coat and sat down to pull off his boots then his trousers. Between the villagers throwing water at his feet, and the melting snow, moisture had soaked through the lanolised wool, making him damp and cold all over. Shivers shook him, whether from shock or cold Marlee wasn’t sure. She ran and pulled the quilt off the bed, wrapping it around him then stoked the
fire and added more wood.
Kneeling down before him, she reached through the blanket to take both his hands in hers. They were icy to touch, and she rubbed them gently with her fingers. “Are you all right?”
“C-cold,” Tyris stuttered. “Pins and needles in my fingers,” he added.
“Good, they’re warming up.” She tucked his hands under the quilt, close to his body, then bent and felt his feet. They were even colder. She pulled over a stool and sat in front of him, tucking his feet under her skirt against her thighs.
Tyris muttered a brief objection, but Marlee ignored him. She examined his face, not certain now if the redness in his cheeks and nose were caused by the cold or embarrassment. Karla wouldn’t have sent him home with just her if she didn’t think the risk of frostbite was small, would she? She reached out to touch his cheeks, concerned that they were still cold under her fingers. She cradled his face in both hands, trying to impart her own warmth to him.
The flickering firelight illuminated his face. He looked down at her, his eyes dark, and a half smile touched his lips. She returned his look just as intensely, and deep down somewhere she admitted that when the roof collapsed, a fear that he might die, that he might not be a part of her life anymore, twisted her heart.
Tyris untangled a hand from the blankets and reached out to touch her face gently. His hand still felt cold against her skin, and instinctively one of her hands left his face and pressed his hand against her warm cheek.
“You’re beautiful,” Tyris mumbled, so quietly she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. He must be delirious. Surely he wasn’t really saying that to her? His head dropped towards hers, and his thumb stroked her cheek. Warmth tingled through her body, despite the fact that his hand was still cold.
Fear replaced the warmth. Fear that he wasn’t warming up fast enough. Fear of being alone again—now, or in another eighteen months. Marlee pulled back and stood up, ignoring the confusion in Tyris’s eyes. The room was still cold, the air only just starting to warm from the fire, but she knew that bringing him too close to the blaze was dangerous. She didn’t think he was at any real chance of frostbite, not with Karla releasing him to her care, but she didn’t want to take any risks.
“Wait here,” she said, tucking his hand back under the quilt. As she pulled the pallet out from under the bed, she could feel his eyes on her. She brought it over next to the fire, laying a blanket on it and began to pull off her outer layer of clothing, leaving only her light cotton nightgown.
“Marlee I’m not sure...” Tyris stopped then swallowed. “What are you doing?” he asked.
Marlee blushed. Surely he didn’t think...
“You need to warm up.” The words tumbled out of her mouth. “And the most effective way to do that is to use body heat.”
“I... um... I’m starting to feel pretty warm,” Tyris said.
Maybe she’d made a mistake. She’d thought only to warm him up, but she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, especially after the way he had looked at her a few moments ago. “Don’t worry, I’m not taking anything more off,” she said quickly. “This is just about getting you warm.”
Still Tyris hesitated. Marlee wished she could take it all back. He was warming up. He said so. He’d be fine. He didn’t need her help. And she needed to keep her distance.
Then the expression on his face shifted subtly, and he stood up carefully, and crossed the room to lay down beside her. For some reason, his trust in her intentions put her fears to rest. She was helping him as a friend, nothing more. She pulled the quilt tightly around both of them, and a shiver shook his body. He wasn’t any warmer. She tucked his hands up against her stomach and arranged her feet around his.
Then she drew his head down to her shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. He resisted, his body tense and uncomfortable, and she slowly stroked his back. After a few wordless moments, he relaxed, and she relaxed as well.
The heat from the fire seeped into the quilt, and the heat from her body seeped into Tyris. His head felt heavy on her shoulder and his breathing deepened. Slowly, exhaustion from the night’s exertion overtook her too, and she slept.
*****
Tyris woke the next morning with Marlee’s arms still around him and his head resting on her shoulder. He hurt in a couple of different places. Hopefully he hadn’t done any serious damage. He was, however, completely warm again, a state that had seemed unlikely last night.
And for that he had Marlee to thank. He looked at her face, just inches from his. She hadn’t been put off, even when he’d hesitated. She’d known what needed to be done and simply did it, overcoming his reluctance with her matter of fact nature.
Her face was peaceful and serene. Her hair escaped from the sensible plait she wore to bed and curled around the edges of her face. Long eyelashes rested on her cheeks, and her full lips were parted ever so slightly. What would it be like to kiss them? He’d been tempted last night, when her face had been so close to his, her hands cupping his cheeks.
Maybe she could overcome her reluctance to be involved with him. It was tempting for a moment, her body curled around his and the knowledge that he would never go home was still fresh in his mind. Perhaps he could forget all that for a moment and just be with her. He could easily come to care for her if he let himself.
But she’d pulled back, and he respected her choice. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to risk being hurt again, and given his contraceptive implant, it was impossible for him to give her what she wanted. His stomach clenched at the thought, pain and humiliation at the restriction mingling with a genuine sadness that things between them couldn’t be.
He shouldn’t even be thinking like this. Had he forgotten Milandra so quickly? She was the reason he’d come all this way. Wasn’t she?
Why did she suddenly seem so far away and unimportant?
He tried to remember her face, but the details were fuzzy. He’d only been gone a little over a month—was his memory of her really so flimsy? There was a photo of her somewhere on the Hylista, but he hadn’t thought to bring it with him. And now he couldn’t find it for another six months. Would he have totally forgotten what she looked like by then?
It didn’t matter anyway, he’d never see her again. It was too unsettling to think about, and despite a wish not to disturb Marlee, Tyris needed to move. He eased carefully away from her, but she stirred and woke. Her eyes widened when she saw him then softened. She smiled. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” he returned. Something of what he was thinking must have come through in his voice. She blushed a little and looked down.
Her eyes went straight to his chest, bare after the previous night’s rush to get warm, and her expression changed. “What’s this?” she asked. Her finger traced the tiny dolphin that hung around his neck.
Tyris shivered at her touch. He reached down to the smooth jade carving and used the memories it evoked to distract him from the present. “My brother, Kerit, gave it to me. He swore it brought him good luck.”
Marlee’s nose wrinkled. “How can it bring him luck?” She was so close he could feel her breath on his face when she spoke.
He swallowed and forced himself to answer her question. “Kerit’s a surfer.” He paused. She probably had no idea what that meant. “He takes his surfboard out in the ocean, and rides the waves back in.”
Marlee nodded. Did she know what he meant, or was she just agreeing? Her hand still played with the dolphin on his chest, rubbing the smooth surface as he talked, making it hard to focus on the story. “One day he was out on his own, a long way from shore, and a shark circled around him. Um, sharks are big animals that eat pretty much anything, even people.” He’d never stopped to consider how much of his knowledge was specific to Urslat before.
Marlee’s eyes widened. “What did he do?”
“Well, he couldn’t put his hands or feet in the water to paddle back, and the tide was slowly carrying him further from the shore.” The corners of his
mouth turned up. “That’s when the dolphin appeared, sticking its nose out of the water and clicking at him. The shark kept its distance then, as though it was afraid. Feeling reassured, Kerit paddled back into shore. The dolphin saved his life.
“Wow.” Marlee’s eyes shone. “But what does this little creature have to do with it? Is it a dolphin?”
Tyris nodded. “It is. After the shark, he avoided going back into the water for a while, half convinced the shark was out there waiting for him. He thought he couldn’t get that lucky twice. That’s when he bought this.”
Marlee frowned. “But it’s not a real dolphin. How was it going to protect him?”
How could he explain that one? “Well, it couldn’t, of course. Not really. But it made Kerit feel better about going back out into the water.”
“Did he ever meet another shark?” Marlee asked.
“He hadn’t when I left home,” Tyris said. For a moment, fear clutched at his chest. Was Kerit still okay? Something awful could have happened to his brother, and he’d never know.
“You must miss him,” Marlee said softly.
Tyris looked down at her and nodded. “I do.”
She reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing the air next to his cheek, then pulled back. He held his breath, not moving, afraid he’d startle her. Her hand crept forward again, and she rested her palm against his cheek, as she had last night. Tyris caught his breath. A voice in the back of his mind said they shouldn’t be doing this.
He ignored it.
Marlee bit her lip and pulled her hand back. She took a deep breath then asked. “So it worked then?”
“Huh?” His brain just couldn’t make sense of her comment, no matter how hard he tried.
“If he didn’t see another shark, then the dolphin must have protected him,” Marlee elaborated.
“Right. Yeah, I guess it must have.” It was as good an explanation as any.
“So how did you end up with it?” Marlee asked.
