Calm: Ice Planet Barbarians: A Slice of Life Short Story

by Ruby Dixon

  Calm

  A Slice of Life Short Story

  Ruby Dixon

  Ruby Dixon

  Contents

  CALM

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Author’s Note

  MOVING DAY

  The People of Ice Planet Barbarians

  Ice Planet Barbarians Reading List

  Afterword

  Copyright

  CALM

  One morning, gentle Maylak wakes up and feels a sense of oncoming dread. As the tribe's healer, it is her job to ensure that everyone is safe, happy, and healthy...and they are.

  So what can be threatening her people?

  This is a short story set in the ICE PLANET BARBARIANS series and does not stand alone. It should be read after BARBARIAN'S TOUCH and is a little bit of sweetness and family life for those waiting for the next release.

  1

  MAYLAK

  Unease wakes me from my sleep. I turn over in the furs, unable to get comfortable. The feeling does not go away, and I open my eyes, gazing at the ceiling of my cave.

  Something is wrong. It is not the shivering distress that my khui sends through me when another is dying. It is something softer, something about to happen. This is the prick of unease that comes with a slower, creeping worry, like starvation or sickness.

  My hand goes to my belly and I search deep inside, letting the healing of my khui flow. It touches the little one nestled inside my body, and finds him well. My belly is low and my bones ache, which tells me that soon, my kit will arrive. After many seasons of waiting, I am both relieved and excited to hold my little son in my arms, but he is not what wakes me this morning, then. I look over at Esha’s bed, directly across from ours. My little daughter sucks her thumb in her sleep, her eyes closed. She is peaceful and her color is good. It is not Esha, then. I relax a little.

  At my side, my mate nuzzles my neck. “Maylak?”

  I brush my fingers over Kashrem’s dear face. “I cannot sleep.”

  “Is it the kit? Will it be here soon?” His hand caresses my belly. “Shall I ready a basket for him?”

  “Not yet,” I tell my mate, and caress his horn absently. “It is something else.”

  He props up in his furs, looking down at me with worry in his eyes. “Something else?”

  I nod and begin to get up from our furs. Kashrem jumps to his feet and helps pull me to mine, as I am ungainly with kit, and my body feels like a stranger’s. He holds me for a little longer than necessary, worry in his gentle face.

  I stroke his jaw. “I must check on the tribe, my mate,” I whisper to him.

  Kashrem nods. He, more than anyone else, understands my moods. He knows that I worry over each person in our growing tribe as if they are my own kits. He knows that I will not be able to rest until my khui has sung to each of theirs and determined that they are well. All too vividly, I remember what it was like to watch the khui-sickness race through our people, and my own khui not yet awakened into its healing powers. Then, I was powerless, and we had no healer.

  Now it is different, and I must do what I can.

  My mate helps me into my tunic and kneels to help me into my boots. I cannot bend to the ties, so he does it for me, his hands gentle. He is so good to me, my Kashrem. Always patient, always gentle, and takes care of Esha when I am busy…and with so many new ones in the tribe, it seems I am always busy. It warms my heart to see so many families growing, but it is also exhausting for only one healer.

  As if he can sense my thoughts, Kashrem finishes tying my laces and stands, a stern look on his face. “You will not exhaust yourself?”

  “I will not,” I promise.

  The look he gives me is clearly skeptical. “You are near your time and tired. If you start to feel—”

  “I know, my mate.” I pat his cheek and smile. “Trust the healer to know her own body.”

  “I trust the healer, but I also know my mate,” he says calmly. Esha wakes up and rubs her eyes, and he squats, holding his arms out for her. “I will watch the little one today. She is going to help her father prepare some skins, aren’t you, my little one?”

  My sweet daughter just giggles and flings herself into Kashrem’s arms. She rests her cheek on his shoulder and then smiles at me. “Can I keess you, mama? The humans do it.”

  Oh, with the lips? I hold my hands out for my daughter, and she flings herself into my arms and presses her tiny mouth to my cheek. She slobbers all over my face, and I remain patiently still, though I see my mate smirking with amusement. “Which human did you learn that from, Esha?” I ask when she is done.

  “Jo-see,” Esha proclaims happily. “She is always keessing on Haeden. Why do you and Father not keess?”

  “Because we are not human,” I explain to her, ruffling her mane and then handing her back to Kashrem. I am not entirely sure that I will ever embrace the human custom of tonguing at my mate. It seems…strange. But Esha’s kisses are sweet and fill me with joy, and I give her a quick, dry kiss on her round cheek. “Be good for your father. I will be back soon.”

  Kashrem smiles at me, and my heart squeezes with affection for my mate. On impulse, I reach out and caress his arm, searching. I send my thoughts through his body, searching for his khui. Each one has a slight song to it, even when not in resonance, and I search for that song now, mixed in the pulse of flowing blood and thumping heart. Kashrem’s is there, and it is strong. Normal. I breathe a sigh of relief and pull back into myself. A moment later, I touch Esha’s arm and do the same, just because I must reassure myself that my family is well. When I am satisfied, I drop my hand.

  My mate is watching me with a look of concern on his face. “What is it that troubles you?”

  “I do not know yet. It might be nothing.” But it does not feel like nothing. “I must seek the others. I will return soon enough.”

  He nods and strokes my arm, a reassuring caress. “Let me know if you need me.”

  My sweet mate. I smile. He cannot do much more to help with a healing than hold my hand, yet he would do so if I asked. “Have fun with your skins,” I tease, and pinch Esha’s fat little cheek to make her giggle. It is hard to leave my family’s side, even for a moment, when my senses are calling a warning.

  But is not the entire tribe my family? Are they not mine to care for?

  I caress my kit’s cheek one last time and then emerge from our private cave a moment later. I must bend slightly to exit because the door is low, and when I straighten, my back protests. I close my eyes and speak to my khui, going inside myself for a moment. Warmth blossoms through my muscles, and the pain is gone a moment later.

  “Oh, there you are, Maylak! Just the person I was looking for!”

  I open my eyes and see the round, strange face of the human Jo-see. She beams a smile at me, her hands on her flat stomach. “You were looking for me? Do you feel ill, Jo-see?”

  “No! And that’s the problem! If I’m pregnant, at what point does morning sickness kick in? Liz says she gets it pretty much the moment the sperm meets the egg, but you know Liz. She’s full of crap.” Her big eyes gaze at me with worry. “You don’t think anything is wrong, do you? I should be feeling something if I’m pregnant, right?”

  “Let us see.” I place my hands on her belly, feeling for the small spark of life there. Pregnancy is tricky, because the child in the womb has no khui. But the body around it can tell me much, and Jo-see’s body brims with good health and life. I withdraw back into myself and smile at her. “Everything is fine. You must be patient.”

  She bounces fro
m foot to foot. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not so good with patient. It’s so hard, because I want to experience everything! And Liz has the pukes and I don’t.” She looks mournful. “I just can’t wait, you know?”

  “Your wait is shorter than mine,” I tell her, amused at her impatience. To think that someone is eager to have all of pregnancy’s small sicknesses.

  Her hands go to her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not bitching, I promise. I’m just excited.”

  “I know you are not—”

  “I mean, it must suck really hard to be pregnant for like, three friggin’ years, bloated like a watermelon on the vine and—” Her eyes widen. “I’m making it worse, aren’t I?”

  I do not know if she is. “What is a water-may-lon?”

  She pats my arm quickly. “You know what? Never mind. It’s cool. You due soon?”

  “Not today, I think,” I say, and smile at her. “How is your mate? Is he in the cave?” I should check him, especially. There are certain tribesmates I keep a close eye on, and Haeden is one of them. His khui is not his original khui, but was given to him when he survived the khui-sickness many turns of the seasons ago. He is healthy and strong, but a healer always worries.

  The dreamy expression returns to Jo-see’s face. “Just went out hunting. He promised he’d come home early for—well, never mind.” She waves a hand in the air, flustered. “I’m just gonna be quiet now.”

  I chuckle. Jo-see’s mouth races ahead of her mind, and mating to Haeden has not changed that. I glance around the cave to see who is awake at the early hour. Stay-see is near the main fire, along with Meh-gan, No-rah and Shorshie. They like to gather early in the mornings and drink hot tea and make root cakes. It is a strange, bland meal, but the humans love it. “Shall we join the others near the fire?”

  “Sure.” Jo-see bounds ahead of me, full of energy like my Esha. I am so heavy with kit that just watching her move makes me tired.

  I follow behind a few steps, heading to the fire. The humans look up and smile at me, their strange faces welcoming.

  “Come and sit, Maylak,” Shorshie says, getting up from her seat and offering it to me. “Stacy is making cake.”

  “Legit cake,” Stay-see agrees, and the smell of something sickly sweet rises from the pan she’s holding over the fire. The others lean in with interest.

  “What is lee-git cake?” I ask. I rest my hand on Shorshie’s shoulder to take a seat, and let my khui touch hers. She is healthy…and carrying another kit. She and Vektal must have resonated once more and kept it to themselves. I smile down at her, pleased for my chief and his mate. I will keep their secret.

  Shorshie chuckles. “It’s cake cake. Like dessert.”

  “With frosting,” Stay-see announces. “I’ve been experimenting with hraku and the not-potatoes, and some of the seeds we’ve been gathering. When we get more fruit from the cave that Lila found, it is gonna be on.”

  “You want frost on your cake?” I ask, confused. “They are eaten frozen?”

  No-rah giggles at my other side, moving her kit from her breast to her lap, and switching her other child to her breast. “You guys are making Maylak more confused.”

  I laugh absently, more interested in reaching out and stroking the fine, downy mane of fluff on Ah-nah’s head. The kit rests on No-rah’s lap, and the mother does not seem to mind when I touch her child. Ah-nah is strong and healthy. I casually brush my hand over No-rah, and she is well, too. Hearty. Less tired than when the twins were first born.

  “Is this the frosting?” Jo-see exclaims, picking up a bowl and dipping her finger into a soft brown mush.

  “It’s paint,” Meh-gan calls out just as Jo-see raises her finger to her mouth.

  Jo-see freezes.

  Stay-see and Meh-gan both burst into laughter.

  “You guys are jerks,” Jo-see says, and licks her finger. Her eyes widen. “Ohmigod, that is so good!”

  “Cake’s almost ready,” Stay-see says, using a long, carved tool to tap at the edges of her rounded cake. It is thicker and larger than the normal breakfast cakes, and I am curious as to what the difference is and why they are so excited.

  It is just food, after all.

  They pull it off of the fire with a collective “oooh,” and Stay-see cuts it into tiny wedges and puts them on small bone plates. She takes the frosting from Jo-see and carefully dabs a spoonful on top of each wedge. “It’s going to melt because the cake’s hot, but I figure no one cares, right?”

  “Gimme,” Meh-gan says. “Just, gimme.” They laugh, and the cake is passed around. I am given a plate, and I ponder the sloppy, goo-covered wedge of “cake.” As I watch, Meh-gan picks up her cake, takes a bite, and then closes her eyes. She sets it back down again and carefully licks her fingers. “That is the best thing I have eaten since we landed.”

  Now I am curious. I take a little nibble of the cake—and freeze. The texture is coarse and strange, and the awful sweetness of the flavor reminds me of meat that has gone bad. With great difficulty, I finish chewing my small bite and force myself to swallow. Around me, the others are finishing their cake rapidly and exclaiming to Stay-see about how wonderful it is. I hold my plate, unsure how I can get rid of it without offending Stay-see’s feelings.

  “You are so gonna have to make that again,” Shorshie says with a little sigh. “Maybe for special occasions like a birthday or something.” Her kit begins to cry and Shorshie picks her up out of her basket.

  I set my cake down on the floor of the cave and hold my arms out. “May I?”

  Shorshie hands over Talie, and I cuddle the kit close, holding her high as my belly gets in the way. She is getting big, and every day she looks more and more like Vektal. I am amused that Talie has his strong nose and his coloring. This is what our kit would have looked like if we had resonated. She has some human features, but not many. It does not make me sad; I am happy with my Esha, and my Kashrem is the perfect mate for me. But I am pleased that my once-pleasure-mate now has a family of his own. He is a good male.

  I close my eyes and reach out to Talie’s khui, but the child is strong and healthy. There are no problems, no reason for a healer to worry. I settle her on my knee so she can play.

  Shorshie gives me a curious look. “Is everything all right?” She asks in a low voice as the others begin to chatter about flavors for cake and when they can next make one.

  I nod and give her a rueful smile. “I am…I do not know the human word for it. I feel the need to check on everyone today.” I do not tell her the nagging worry that I woke up with. It might simply be that—a worry.

  “‘Broody’ is probably the word,” Shorshie says, and gently pulls Talie’s hand out of my braids. “Let me know if you need anything, all right? I can speak to my mate.”

  I hand Talie back, now that I am assured she is fine. “I will.”

  The conversation continues around us, and more people come to the fire. The last of the cake is doled out, and others show up with their kits. I laugh and offer to hold children, making it seem as if I have no more need in my life than to hold each kit. The mothers are all too happy to let someone else take their kit for a few moments, and I touch the khui of each one with my mind. All are healthy, and as I hand each child back, I touch the khui of each mother. They are all well.

  The problem is not here, then.

  I look around, thinking. “Are Har-loh and Rukh in the caves? Or are they at the Elders’ Cave?”

  “They’re home,” Jo-see says. “I saw Harlow yesterday, and I doubt they left overnight.”

  “I should go greet them,” I say with a smile and begin the arduous process of moving my ungainly body upright. Har-loh is one with a khui that must work that much harder—there is a tumor inside her head that her khui keeps under control. Her khui is strong, but when she was with kit, her body was severely taxed. Is it possible she is pregnant again? And this time she will not fare as well? I think of Rukh, so wild and untamed yet, and their small son. I must
visit them and make certain they are well.

  “Want company?” Jo-see jumps to her feet.

  “Oh, no, stay with the others. I am fine.” I smile to take the sting out of my decline. “I am going to say hello, and then I must help my husband with his skinning.” I straighten and head out of the clustered circle of women.

  “Wait,” Stay-see calls.

  I turn around.

  She picks up my plate, all smiles. “You forgot your cake.”

  “How silly of me,” I murmur, taking it in hand. “Thank you, Stay-see. You are most thoughtful.” Perhaps Har-loh will like the cake and I will not be forced to eat more of it. I clutch the small plate and wander through the cavern, heading for Har-loh and Rukh’s private cave.

  2

  As I head to the far side of the tribal home, the sound of retching makes my healer senses prick. I turn, heading toward the cave that Leezh shares with Raahosh. The privacy screen is not in front of their cave entrance, but I can hear Raahosh murmuring to his mate from inside. It might be a private moment. I hesitate outside, holding my cake, and avert my gaze to be polite. “May I enter?”

  “Oh good,” I hear Leezh say. “The healer. Now I know I’m dying.”

  I know enough about this human to know that she exaggerates, but her words still send a pang of worry through me. Is Leezh the source of my worry?

  I hear Raahosh snort, and then he appears, beckoning me in. “She has her morning sickness, that is all.”

  From the spot on the floor where she is crouched, Leezh gestures with one finger at her mate, and then hunches over a bowl again, vomiting. “Dick,” she pants between dry heaves.

  He moves back to her side, gently stroking the hair away from her face as she vomits. “You will be all right, my mate,” he murmurs, and rubs her back. “It will pass soon enough.”

  “Take your time,” I tell them, setting the cake plate down near the entrance and then moving to the fur-lined basket near their bedding where Raashel waves her tiny fists. I get down on the floor next to her—no easy task—and offer her my finger to grab. She takes it, and her khui sings out to mine, strong. I smile, because I always worry most about the little ones, especially after the death of Asha’s little girl. I could do nothing to save her because she had no khui, and it haunts me yet.