by Lizzy Ford
With effort, I forced myself to relax once more and lay back on the bed.
Teyan said my rawerah would protect me against anything. I didn’t think the animal could help me fend off my worry and fear though, for those emotions grew stronger in the dark and quiet.
“It’ll be okay,” I whispered to myself. “Hang in there, Mom.”
I drifted asleep to the sound of Tomtom’s deep breathing.
Chapter Twenty
I woke up some time later when the great cat nudged me with its massive head.
I opened my eyes then snapped them closed. Tomtom had turned the light up and sat beside the bed, waiting for me. Waking up to see the beast was almost as jarring as the Caretaker beating on my door.
Tomtom nudged me again. I released the breath I held and reached out to him timidly to pat his head. How long would it take for me to grow accustomed to having him around?
Unable to tell what time of day it was without windows, I sat up and rubbed my face, hoping I hadn’t slept through dinner.
Tomtom left the bedroom and gave a soft yowl a moment later. Teyan’s low voice responded and I hurried to pull on my shoes. I went to the bathroom and hastily washed my face and silently berated myself for not taking a shower before falling asleep. There was no mirror in the bathroom, so I did my best to make my hair presentable and then left, nervously rubbing my palms against my pants.
Teyan stood in the center of the great room, giving Tomtom a rubdown. He glanced up when I entered, and his gaze lingered. He wore a sleeveless, embroidered leather tunic that revealed both his muscular arms and the hundreds, if not thousands, of dots lining both of them. Knowing each one was a life he took left me a little uneasy until I met his gaze. At that point, I could think of nothing outside of him waiting ten years to find me and how his intent, soulful gaze warmed whenever I looked at him. My pulse began to race.
“Sorry. I fell asleep,” I said awkwardly. “I’m not late, am I?”
“Not at all. You were comfortable here?”
I nodded.
He held out his hand.
I went to him and took it, and he led me out of the house into the quiet jungle evening. The night air was balmy but more bearable than the daytime humidity. Tomtom trailed, along with a smaller cat I assumed was Teyan’s.
“The envoys left an hour ago,” Teyan told me. “We will follow in the morning.”
“Do we take the cats?”
“We do,” he said firmly. “The only place the Tili do not take them is when we visit your world, because the housing is normally too small to accommodate them.”
“My new house in the desert is big enough for rawerahs, too,” I said.
“Tomtom will be pleased,” he said with a faint smile.
But he didn’t say anything about bringing his with him. The exclusion bothered me. I suppressed my disappointment and shifted my attention to the world around us. Few people were out in the streets this evening compared to earlier. Bonfires at the center of the city stretched above the low dwellings, and soon, I was able to hear the sounds of people gathered. The closer we got, the louder it became, and the scent of food wafted towards me.
Unaware of how hungry I was until now, I sucked in a deep breath. It smelled like grilled meat and fresh bread, and my stomach rumbled.
When we reached the sprawling courtyard at the center of the city, it was packed with people and rawerahs. Huge spits of meat sat at the center while stone ovens cooking breads and vegetables lined the perimeter of the courtyard. At least two small tents were set up with sweet smelling deserts resembling miniature pies and hard candies.
“We cook our food as a community,” Teyan explained as we moved slowly through the crowds. “We all come together for the evening meal, which is the biggest meal of the day.”
The Tili ate with their hands or off of wooden plates in groups ranging in size from two people to dozens. From the volume of talk and smiles, this was the best part of their day. We drew near the ovens, and I studied them. No one was manning them. Food went in, sat to cook or warm and then came out on vast platters that didn’t burn despite the heat. No conveyor belts, no ropes or pulleys or anything else supported or maneuvered the trays. It was just the steady circling of large platters of vegetables and breads in midair through each oven and around the front, slow enough for people to pick off what they wanted before the trays returned to the heated depths.
“I have to ask,” I said, staring at the oven in front of us. “How on earth do you have magic ovens and lights and portals and telepathic imprinting but no planes or phones or anything else advanced?”
“I am uncertain what a plane or phone is,” Teyan replied. “We are an ancient civilization. Much of this,” he waved to the oven, “comes from previous generations of our civilization. We have kept what works and discarded what does not over the years.”
“Did the Tili ever have flying machines?” I asked.
“For what purpose?” he replied.
“To go places faster, I guess.”
“Our portal system takes us anywhere we want to go. You are never a day away from anywhere in Tili.”
“What about … how do you send messages to the people at battle? A day is too long to wait for important stuff.”
He chuckled. “Portals and telepathically linked messengers. The imprinting works on people, too. This one is for my rawerah.” He held up his hand to display the faint blue ring. “This one is for my chief messenger when I’m on the battlefield.” He held up his other hand, which also had a blue ring.
It baffled me to think another world had developed through the ages so differently than my own but there was no other explanation. Humanity had taken one track and the Tili a completely different one.
“What about windows?” I asked.
“Ah. You do not want to meet the kinds of insects that creep into your house at night in Tili,” he said wisely.
I shuddered at my mental image of dog-sized cockroaches and spiders.
We walked to a line to grab some meat then each picked up a plate of vegetables and bread.
Teyan led me to a quieter area, away from the bonfires and crowds, and we sat down on the ground to eat. Our rawerahs joined us. Teyan tossed chunks of meat to both before he began eating. I was too hungry to care about not making a mess and wolfed down my food and water until my stomach was full.
Leaning back, I sighed in contentment and glanced up towards the sky. The stars were hidden behind the thick jungle canopy far above.
Teyan finished eating after me. Only the rawerahs nudging their ways to check our plates for scraps kept the quiet from becoming awkward again. Anxious to find my mom, I was likewise overwhelmed by the attraction to Teyan that only seemed to be growing stronger the more time we spent together.
My eyes traveled from Tomtom to the village square, visible between two buildings. The fires and laughter were bright, and I smiled. It reminded me of holidays with my mom’s family. As foreign as Tili was, some customs seemed to transcend worlds.
Teyan pushed one of the great cats out of his way so he could sit beside me, also facing the bonfires. His shoulder rested against mine, and my awareness of his slightest movement ratcheted up to the point I didn’t really notice anything else other than his steady breathing and my racing heart. I suppressed the trickle of fear inside me. Teyan would never hurt me and if anyone tried, Tomtom would take care of them.
“Do you have someone on your world?” Teyan asked. “Aside from family?”
I understood his question without the clarification, and warmth trickled through me. “No,” I replied. “Do you?” I was afraid to look at him as I asked and proud of how level my voice was.
“Many friends and family but no.”
Tomtom’s yowl was followed by him nudging Teyan with his head. The cat then pushed between us and flopped onto its side, pawing at Teyan playfully, as if it were experiencing my angst about the Tili warrior. Humiliated by the connection with an animal incapable o
f filtering its reaction, I laughed nervously. We made room for the cat who didn’t appear ready to leave.
“I would have thought you would have a line of women interested in you,” I murmured and rubbed Tomtom’s side. “Tili noble warrior and all.”
“I do,” Teyan admitted. “But none of them are you.”
Did I hear him right or was it wishful thinking? My heart was slamming into my ears, and my ability to focus on anything completely ruined. “We’re from two different worlds,” I whispered.
“I know.”
I sneaked a look at his face. He appeared pensive. I wanted to ask if it were even possible for us to be anything, let alone more than friends, but didn’t have the courage.
“I am not certain what to do,” Teyan spoke quietly. “I have known since we first met that our paths were destined to become one.”
I was on the verge of a panic attack, but not for a bad reason this time. What was it about him that made me want to leave my comfort zone? As terrified as I was about being hurt, I couldn’t really think of anything I wanted more than to take a chance on the one person who left me giddy, scared and exhilarated all at once.
He met my gaze, and I had the sense he’d been waiting ten years for this moment. Neither of us spoke. I was barely able to breathe through the emotions. I wasn’t going to be the girl who broke down and had an anxiety attack when faced with quite possibly the most wonderful person in my life. I wasn’t going to be afraid anymore, and I wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity for a tiny shred of happiness. We were likely meant for a bad ending, a tragedy of epic proportions, but I thought of nothing more than him, the one person who made me want to leave the shell I crawled into the night of the incident, who would go to the end of his world and others to help me.
With some surprise, I realized I also hadn’t caved once to the thought about the incident that changed my life since I’d been reacquainted with Teyan. Normally, it was at the edge of my mind, whispering for me to distrust everyone I met and encouraging me to withdraw despite my longing to belong to my world.
But the moment I saw Teyan, the whisper and doubt and fear had been beaten down by something far stronger.
“We can try,” I said.
“I have lost so many people I care about,” he said quietly. “Are you not afraid of what might happen?”
I nodded. “Very. But I think I’m more afraid of not taking a chance and regretting it.”
The warmth in his eyes was reassurance I was not alone in this. “If I frighten you, Tomtom will eat me,” he said gravely enough that I almost laughed. “I will never hurt you, Gianna.”
I ducked my head. My stomach fluttering, I experienced a mix of euphoria at my future and wired concern for my mom. I was a mess – but this felt as right as the situation about my mom didn’t.
Teyan cleared his throat, as if he, too, were nervous. “What is on your mind this night?”
“I’m worried about my mom,” I said.
“We will find her,” he replied resolutely. “If he took her instead of killing …”
At my gasp, he stopped.
“Forgive me,” Teyan murmured. “It is a good sign she was taken. It means she was wanted for a reason.”
I swallowed hard, needing to believe this to be the case. “How do you handle losing someone you love more than once?” I asked. “My father’s death was hell. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to her.”
“Surviving when someone you love does not is the hardest and worst thing ever to happen to you. We go on because we must. In Tili tradition, we are always destined to meet our loved ones again someday.”
“That’s a nice thought,” I said.
His gaze went to the bonfire. The shadows in his eyes were sorrowful and dark. I understood his pain, still felt it on occasion whenever I thought of my parents. Teyan’s was worse, because he’d lost so many people.
Move, Tomtom, I ordered the rawerah silently.
I was surprised the cat obeyed. Commanding it was easier than I expected. It slinked to the other cat nearby and stretched out on its stomach. I shifted closer to Teyan, until I was able to lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I told him, at a loss as to what else I could say. He had an entire planet depending on him and here he was, spending time with me.
He wrapped an arm around me and drew me against his hard frame.
I waited for alarms to sound inside my head, the way they had every time someone got into my personal space since the incident.
None did. If anything, it was easy to relax when Teyan touched me, as if some part of me knew I’d always be safe with him, as if I already belonged at his side. It had nothing to do with his solemn promise that Tomtom would eat him if I got scared and everything to do with the man himself. I sighed and let myself stay where I was, breathing in his espresso scent as we sought solace in one another’s company.
We sat together long enough for both our cats to decide it was time to hunt. I didn’t want to leave, but when my eyes drifted closed, I suspected our peaceful night was almost over.
“You are tired,” Teyan said. “We have an early morning.” He touched my face gently with one hand and then stood and helped me up.
Together, we walked back through the city to the quiet guest quarters. Teyan faced me when we arrived, and I gazed up at him, floored by the amazing man before me. He seemed equally caught up in the emotion neither of us could express. Neither of us moved for a long minute.
“Thank you,” I said. “For everything. You don’t know how important this is to me.”
“I will always be here for you, Gianna.”
I believed him, and it made me want to cry.
Lifting onto my tiptoes, I kissed his cheek lightly and then hurried into the house and closed the door behind me. A thrill tore through me. I’d never been that forward with anyone. Tiny kiss or otherwise, I acted bravely enough for my entire body to quiver.
When I’d managed to rein in my dazzled thoughts, I walked through the quiet house to the bedroom I’d chosen earlier. This time, I took a shower before climbing into bed. I was tired enough not to hear Tomtom come in.
I slept deeply and dreamt of my mom, Teyan and me having breakfast at our hacienda in Arizona.
Chapter Twenty One
The next day, I didn’t need Teyan to tell me he wasn’t satisfied with the start to our morning. His arms were crossed, his lean form tense.
Accompanied by our rawerahs, five of us waited before a portal while Teyan spoke quietly to a sixth person a short distance away, out of earshot. My eyes went over the Tili noble. He wore layers despite the heat and was armed with varying types of weapons, from an axe to strangely shaped swords and knives. The people with me, including Kay, were also armed. I alone wasn’t, though Kay had helped me put on a small backpack containing water, a change of clothing, one of the tiny sleeping bags and other supplies. In my jeans and t-shirt, I was starting to wish I’d brought another set of clothing with me or at least my sunglasses.
At last, the two were done talking, and Teyan approached. He stopped before me, and his gaze warmed. Heat fluttered inside me.
“The Bikitomani are not convinced my envoys told the truth. They are asking you to address them directly and request safe passage. They will grant it to a Caretaker and her escort but not a Tili war party,” he explained.
I swallowed hard. “Okay. I can go.”
“I will accompany you, and our rawerahs.”
Relieved, I nodded.
“Come.” He took my hand.
Grateful not to embarrass myself in front of him by attempting a portal again, I closed my eyes as he led us to the side of a tree wider than my hacienda. Seconds later, the temperature changed, indicating we were somewhere else.
“Halt!” someone barked.
My eyes flew open, and I clutched Teyan’s hand. No less than ten men in gray space jumpsuits surrounded us, and several pointed the glowing ends
of long spears at us.
Teyan was tense, his face stony. I barely recognized him after how gentle he’d been towards me and recalled with some discomfort he was a warrior with a thousand kills or more in addition to being my newfound boyfriend.
“Caretaker, step forward,” one of the Bikitomani with chiseled features directed us.
I took a step. My heart slammed into my chest hard enough for my ribs to hurt.
Teyan refused to let me go, and I glanced up at him. “I can do this,” I said in a tight voice.
He was tense enough for his jaw to tick. He didn’t take his eyes off the leader of the Bikitomani, but he did loosen his grip on my hand.
I shifted in front of him, accompanied by Tomtom, whose body heat was at my side.
“I’m the Caretaker,” I said and waited.
The weird weapons trained on me shifted to point at Teyan, and the speaker motioned me forward.
“If you are who you say you are, you are safe here,” he said with a glance at the bristling Tili warrior.
“My escort?” I asked.
“Safe as well, assuming he makes no move to attack any of my people.”
I looked back at Teyan, who gave a single nod of his head.
“He’s good with that,” I said and faced the tall man with chiseled features and shoulder length hair.
“Then come. Let us talk,” he directed.
Stay with me Tomtom, I silently begged the great cat, not at all convinced I was remotely safe when Teyan was held at their equivalent of gunpoint.
I followed the Bikitomani. His world appeared to be one of rocks and caves, or at least, that was all I could see. We were surrounded by blue-gray boulders larger than I was and the same color as their jumpsuits. Their sky was purple hued, and a heavy wind smelling of rain tossed loose hair around my face.
The Bikitomani leader walked a narrow trail among the boulders until he reached the opening of a nearby cave that glowed from within. We entered, and my breath caught.
