Stolen By An Alien

by Amanda Milo

  “Yeah. Got that. Right with you.”

  And then he grasped the girl under her arms and pulled her right over the fence again. The other auctionees were going wild, some trying to climb her body to come along. But they didn’t make it.

  An alarm blared, and a pole high above us lit up and turned red.

  We didn’t wait around.

  I’ve never run so hard in my life. Previously - you know, before being abducted by aliens and all – I wasn’t into jogging. I did a little Pilates. But I also ate a lot of ice cream. If I ever got back home, I was giving up the frozen cartons of delight and taking up a real exercise regimen.

  Scratch that. When I got home, I was going to freak the fuck out, binge on ice cream as a therapy tool, and then take up exercise for real. And sign up for self defense classes. Begin carrying cattle prods with enough voltage to take down a T-rex.

  Early on in our race, my guy was almost taken down by a pair of really mean looking dudes. The rescued girl latched onto me and shouted encouragement for him. Heck yes, I did too. And what a show! Our guy? Kick. Ass. He continued to use that tail as a weapon. Back home, I’d been whacked by a cow’s tail and a cow’s tail can really hurt. So it’s totally worth repeating: my alien could split alien flesh right from bone without even having to get his hands dirty. Ugh. Serious nasty. Very much glad he was on my side. And those horns he had? Not just for show. He used them to stab, knock, and head-butt. Between them, and powerful kicks and punches, he dropped these otherworld critters like flies.

  He was like a ninja + samurai pitted against regular people. When he’d freed himself, we started to cheer for him, but he cut us off with a hand motion and hurried us on. I guess we’d attracted enough attention already.

  We dodged official looking aliens. We hid behind gypsy looking wagons, crowds of creatures, and ran like the blazes when no one was looking. When he thought it was safe, he whipped out his cell phone again. Then we tried to stay in one place. Every time we had to change hiding spots, he sent a brief message on his phone.

  I took that to mean that the cavalry was coming.

  The cavalry came in the form of just one ram-dragon-thing. He could have been my guy’s twin. But bluer. The girl beside me squealed and threw herself on him and he performed a noogie on her head spikes too. Then he clasped my alien on the shoulder, pulling him in for a bro-hug. I backed up a little to give them space, and looked around me nervously. I didn’t want to get snatched and resold – or just plain stolen. Again. No need for a repeat, no thanks.

  My guy broke away and whirled around to grab my hand. He said something to me, his eyes bright with his happy emotions. Then he turned to the others, motioning to me.

  And the other guy’s shock was something to see. Insta-silence.

  That was, before he folded over much like the girl had; making his horns almost touch the ground.

  Then they exploded in discussion. Lots of gestures.

  The other alien male stepped closer, as if to examine me. A low, threatening growl stopped him cold. This look-alike laughed and backed away.

  Sure, it was possible that my alien was simply guarding his new possession or something, but I still got an odd, reassuring thrill that he was so protective of me, even with his friend.

  I pitched forward when someone bumped into me, to which my alien reacted by clasping me to him with one hand while backhanding the offender with the other.

  I’d have felt bad about that, but the thing that ran into me had way, way too many teeth and almost as many eyes and all of those eyes were roaming over my features.

  At least until my alien snarled.

  His hand was suddenly stroking my cheek. I looked at him, and he smiled, said something, and pulled me to him. Then he began to converse with the group, and all the while he stroked me gently.

  No, I decided. I didn’t think I was a possession. He’d rescued me. Multiple times now. He treated me like he cared. He had been so careful with me last night. And today, all day, even as we ran all over this crazy place… Ugh, what a day. I dropped my head into my hands. This was all so much. Too much. I was exhausted.

  Then my stomach pitched as gravity shifted in that way it does when someone hauls you up into their arms without warning. I yelped.

  My alien raised me to his face. Said some things. Then he adjusted me so that I was cradled against his chest. I pressed a hand to his chestplate. He looked down at me in worry. “I’m okay. Just tired. A lot’s happened, you know?” I smiled weakly.

  He frowned. He turned to the others and rapidly I guess they made plans. Alarmingly, there was also some pointing at my ears. Why? They knew I could hear them. When the other male approached again, my nails pressed into my rescuer’s forearm scales a little. He patted my fingers and shook his head at Twin. I reached up and stroked his cheek this time.

  Dimly, I registered the female making a gasping squeal that sounded positively delighted.

  He stared at me. But not in a bad way. In a way that, I thought, meant he liked that I was using his own comforting gestures back on him. I hoped so anyway. I appreciated his sensitivity to what probably appeared to be my skittish nature. Mine wasn’t. Skittish, that is. At least not until I was dropped onto an alien planet and yadda yadda, you get the idea.

  Then the female came up. She clasped my guy’s bicep and smiled happily at him, purple tears trailing down her cheeks. I tried hard not to stare. Then she focused on me and gave me a reassuring pat. I think my guy started sharing the details of my ordeal because she fiddled with the hem of my blanket and gave me a sympathetic head tilt.

  My guy clasped her in a side-hug, Twin came up to sandwich her between us, and they began walking in that formation. We traveled awhile, still dodging and hiding when needed. But the further away we got, the more relaxed the guys became. I patted my alien’s chest, and when he gave me his attention, I gestured that I could walk, waggling two of my fingers in a stepping motion for emphasis. His lip twitched up on one side, but he shook his head.

  Okay then.

  I settled back for the ride. I hadn’t been carried around like this since I was a toddler. This seemed extravagant. Like the quintessential royal with the grapes and the palm frond fans and the hot guys proudly bearing her weight on some tented throne thing.

  Being held directly against a hot, hard chest though?

  Mine was better.

  Mine was soo much better.

  A girl could get used to this kind of treatment.

  Finally, we came to a section of burnt field. A field full of parked spaceships.

  At this point, I imagined that I should be growing desensitized to anything alien related, but still… spaceships. So many spaceships.

  We threaded around them; big shiny ships, ships with matte finishes, ships encrusted with jewel like facets and colors – and, weirdly, my alien covered my eyes when we passed those - not alarming in the least - and massive black freaky disc shaped ships with lots of portholes.

  We’d gone pretty far when the other big dude began to look maybe a little… guilty. Sheepish even. His eyes flicked to me, then to my alien. He started talking fast.

  My alien stopped dead. He leveled a look at Twin and spit out one word.

  Twin ducked his head and grimaced.

  Definitely guilty.

  He waved an apologetic hand, indicating one of the ships.

  I didn’t get it. The ship looked pretty to me. Anything headed to earth: sign me right up!

  Then my alien stalked forward, and tucked behind - and sort of half-under the impressive shiny one - was a tiny, dented, oblong space pod.

  Apparently, this adorable tic-tac was our ride.

  Unfortunately.

  My guy made a disgusted noise. He set me down so that he could add incredulous gestures to his heated words with Twin. Twin rubbed the back of his neck roughly, appearing extremely apologetic, but his explanations all looked like excuses to me. Then he threw me a worried look. The girl did too.

  O
h shit.

  I was internally about to freak out that I was about to be left behind, but before I could work up a good case of mental screams, my alien – without even sparing me a glance – snagged me and pulled me to him tightly as he continued discussing this problem.

  They came to some sort of a decision. I was calmer, because my alien never let me go during this. He hugged the girl, tapped fingers with Twin, and we watched the two of them squeeze into the pod. It looked like a third being might be able to fit in if no one was averse to snuggling. And that’s when my alien looked down at me.

  I looked back at the space available, located on the other side of the gutted, rusty, gear panel – I’d be squeezed between the pod door and Twin.

  Grabbing my alien’s hand tightly, I tried to gesture along with my words. “Ride in that? And leave you behind? For the bad guys to grab?” I wiggled my fingers like a spider. “And go with these two… where? I can’t even converse with them, and ...uh, what happens when we have to go the bathroom?” I made an “Ugh, that sucks” face as I stared at the pod, making the girl giggle.

  If you can make an alien laugh? I won’t lie. That felt good. I smiled my thanks for her appreciation of my comedic talent. Then I turned back to my alien. “I don’t want to leave you behind!” Did this mean he would go in my place then, and leave me? Should he? It wasn’t fair that he be stuck here and split up from what I was pretty sure was his family.

  Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, please don’t-

  He rumbled words at me, then rubbed the material of my dress between his fingers before tapping his chest.

  Okay. He wanted the blanket back? I pointed to the underside and said, “I had you burn my skirt!” I must have looked just as horrified as I felt, because he rushed to comfort me, and eventually gave up and just enfolded me in his arms.

  Alright, I was confused. Again. No, make that still.

  And then in a move that reminded me of that thing all men seem to do back home, he reached beyond me to knock twice against the top of the pod in goodbye. He said things that made the girl tear up, (I didn’t even try to hide my staring) and he waved to Twin. They closed the hatch – it took two tries, I noted uneasily as it whined and groaned – and then my guy walked us backwards so they could take off. Thankfully, it seemed to fly fine. They accelerated and were out of sight in the time it took to blink.

  We watched the sky for a minute more, then my hand was tugged and I followed as he led me back to the market.

  5

  AROKH

  Panic seized my hearts when someone soon pointed to the Gryfala, and a group began to pursue us. I dodged and weaved through the crowd, at times lifting her right off of her feet in order to keep her with me. When one managed to catch up with us, I grabbed him around the neck and jerked him behind a table of ladies’ decorative headdresses. He was a Torkbal, his neck too thick to break. But his air was easy enough to cut off. I kept him locked until he passed out, then I held him down until his pulse stopped entirely. The shopkeeper watched warily but didn’t intervene. When I caught her eye, she nodded at me and gave me a Rakhii salute. Thank the Creator for the honorable reputation of my people. Whatever action we took, if there was a Gryfala’s safety involved, it was almost always looked upon as pardonable.

  “Nice day, isn’t it?” I said to her in a friendly, conversational tone, as if I didn’t have a dead man locked under my arm.

  She winked as she made a noncommittal sound. “I believe it just got nicer now. All the peddler wagons in this sector have been warned about the dangerous citizen who stole an auction female and is fleeing authorities.” Her eyes cut to my companion, who watched our byplay anxiously. “It might be more difficult to recognize even a great Rakhii if the citizen and his female found less conspicuous garb.” Wise woman.

  She inclined her head to her wagon. “Your lady should be able to find something serviceable in the chest near the door.”

  I nodded my gratitude, released the man’s neck, and used a wrist spike to slice through his purse strings. I tossed the bag of coin to her lap. She cackled. She peeled it open, separated a few coins, then threw it back to me. “Gladiator, I owe a debt to a Rakhii guard for a kind deed done a long time ago.” She looked at the princess, taking in her disheveled mane and arms smeared with dirt and new bruises from all the times she’d been nearly stolen from me today. “I took what the clothing will cost to replace. Now send your lady in to change.”

  I stashed the auctioneer’s corpse under the wagon, intending to move him if we weren’t caught in the time it would take to change outfits. Leading the little female by her elbow, we entered the wagon and I dug through the chest until I found her a suitable sized dress. Careful not to startle her, I began unknotting the scarf that bound the blanket in place. That done, I pressed the dress into her hands and gave her my back so she could change in privacy. I set aside a pair of chaps, and began peeling off the fighting plates that covered my chest. I found breeches with an appropriately sized slit in the back for my tail, and stepped into them, leaving my leg armors on and now mostly hidden with the chaps providing even more cover. “Is it safe to turn?” I called softly.

  “Uhldunn.” Came the reply. It sounded like the same affirmative she’d used this morning after relieving herself. I turned and looked for a shirt that would fit me without being too tight in the shoulders. I needed to be able to move. When I happened to glance her way, I caught the princess locked in place, staring at my bare chest.

  Not with fear, but with pure feminine appreciation.

  “I see I should have had you turn,” I said. She may not have understood my words, but the moment she realized she was gawking, she met my eyes and everything from her throat and up blushed a bright, pretty crimson.

  I hadn’t realized Gryfala changed color like a Rakhii. I wondered what other colors she could change to.

  I gave her a wicked grin. She answered with an embarrassed little smile that charmed my hearts before she desperately began looking all around us, attempting to find relief from (what she likely perceived to be) an awkward moment. As I finished dressing, the tiny Gryfala endeared herself to me further when I saw her carefully tucking the blanket into my satchel as if it were precious to her also. She surprised me by taking on the matter of fitting my discarded chest plates around it.

  She was considerate.

  It was my understanding that this trait was very… rare.

  I was still pondering this when the peddler woman gifted the female with a gaudily quilled headdress and mask. Then she eyed my incredibly recognizable horns. “I have one hat that might work… how do you feel about pink stripes and bells?”

  “I… thank you for trying.”

  She gave me an apologetic smile. “Might draw more attention.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Then Quest Luck to you anyway.” She took out a perfume bottle and began spraying the ground where the fight had taken place. Tucking the Gryfala’s tiny hand into a loop on my breeches, I pulled the dead man out from under the wagon and moved him to the tall brown grasses behind the trash compactor. Eventually someone would smell him, but for now the stench of garbage would cover this and now that our peddler had covered our scent, she would not be pinpointed for aiding in the crime.

  Thankfully, this auction drew a massive crowd and we were mostly swallowed up into a sea of anonymous creatures. When we were spotted, as serendipity would have it there was always a handful of supporters, helping to turn each run-in into a successful escape. It grated on me to have to hide, but it happened that my height was a disadvantage when I towered over so much of the crowd, and without a successful disguise for my horns, everyone knew what I was, so if they were looking for us; they had us. Every time I was spotted was another time I put the Gryfala at risk. So we scrambled under carts, ran at each opportunity that I could avoid a fight, and hid whenever and wherever we had to.

  Like now.

  We’d been doing more running than d
odging, and the Gryfala’s stamina was flagging. She was trying to calm her breathing, and held a hand pressed to her side as if it pained her.

  I looked around, and spotted a place I thought we could find a proper hiding spot. I began to head in that direction when her spine shot straight and she dug her feet in.

  Ah. I leaned down to nuzzle the top of her head. “I know, princess. It’s a sale barn.” Then I pulled back enough that she could see into my eyes. “The last time you were in one… that won’t happen. Trust me?”

  Worried lines forming between her eyes, and chewing her lip apprehensively, she followed me willingly enough when I avoided the stalls entirely and led her into a dark corner where the hay was stored. It was clean, there was a lot of it. But I backed her into the corner, planted myself in front of her, then scooped armfuls of hay towards us, attempting to push it into a wall formation so we were less covered in it and more hidden behind it. It didn’t work exactly as I’d hoped, but. We wouldn’t be seen.

  I itched my arm, watching the scales turn an irritated shade of green. “I didn’t know that I had hay allergies until today,” I whispered conversationally.

  She watched me, and either her skin was irritated too or all my scratching was making her itchy. Her blunt nails ran along her arms, leaving little reddened trails. “Sorry.” I said grimly. “I’m a little too noticable in the daylight,” I pointed to my horns. “We’ll try it again in a few hours, alright?”

  Time passed slowly. She slumbered, head propped against the wall at her back. It didn’t look comfortable. Easing her forward, I pulled her into my lap and positioned her against me so that her chin rested in the crook of my neck. I attempted to ignore how good that felt. Her mask irritated my scales almost as much as the hay did, or that’s what I told myself as I removed it and stored it in my pack. It wasn’t like it was working to hide her anyway – not when she was beside my very recognizable form.

  I hadn’t removed it just so I could revel in her breath heating my neck scales again.

  I grimaced. I wasn’t normally in the habit of lying to myself.