by Lara LaRue
“Unlikely.” My voice was flat with disdain.
Brax looked startled. “How so?”
“It is her desire, as well as the desire of her predecessor, to learn our ways and develop a treaty between our two peoples. This has been the same effort the humans have consistently made with us for years. Whoever is behind the assassination attempt may not be the major power at this base. In fact, this person may be an enemy infiltrator of theirs who is attempting to sabotage the treaty to cause problems for Earth or for both of us. We will not know until the seers can gather enough information on the matter. In either case, there will be no division of loyalty.” I kept my voice calm and matter-of-fact, though I wanted to punch that politicking opportunist through a wall. The others trusted my judgment; only he disrupted council unity.
“Then we once again await the seers’ verdict.” Reela settled back in her chair.
Brax scowled. “I do not believe our war chief has a clear mind on this issue. He should not be allowed to continue his leadership position until his own loyalties are confirmed.”
Oh, not this again. “I suppose you believe you should replace me as war chief until this matter is resolved?”
“You have to admit that panting after this human girl affects your judgment. And of those left, I am clearly the most qualified.” Brax smirked smugly, oblivious to the annoyed muttering around him.
Reining in my temper again, I looked him in the eye. “Well, Brax, if you truly wish to be war chief and acting high chieftain, tell me something.”
His smirk weakened. “What is that?”
“How do you plan to deal with the uneven food distribution among the southern villages?”
Brax’s smug expression crumbled into uncertainty. “Uh . . .”
“The insect raids on food crops must also be addressed. Do you have any proposed solutions?”
Brax’s blank and slightly panicked expression caused a few chuckles from the other chiefs.
I smiled tightly. Brax was an adequate chief for his own village, but never kept abreast of issues outside his own walls. “What about the humans? Do you have any idea what to do if they do attack?”
Torvin, whose fishing village Steamcliffs bordered on the Boiling Sea to the south, scratched his bronze-colored mustache. “Do you, War Chief? I would like as much lead time as possible to prepare my people.”
“Yes, I have a number of contingencies in mind.” I put my hands behind my back. “Remember humans have little acquaintance with this world’s hazards. We can use that. We can shelter in our more remote outposts and force them to face this world’s predators and other dangers.”
“Then we must prepare for evacuation.” Torvin lowered his hand thoughtfully. “And what about striking back?”
“Sabotage and the use of our seers. The humans rely on technology. We now have someone with us who knows human technology and sciences, and from her knowledge, we can devise how to stop them.” I smiled. If anything, I knew after this shock, Grace would be eager to find some way to fix things. She was like me that way: always looking for solutions, even in times of high emotion.
Reela clasped her hands before her. “You plan to get the human to help us against her own people?”
“The seers will confirm she opposes hostilities. And she is my mate.” I held my confident tone, despite a twinge of doubt. Grace’s stunted psychic senses prevented her from feeling the bond between us. But I had sworn to win her heart regardless, even if I had to learn the human modes of courtship from nothing. “I have no doubt she will assist us if it is needed.”
Brax sat back, no longer able to look me in the eye. “We shall see,” he growled petulantly.
The door to the seers’ chamber opened, and a lean figure in a blue cloak stepped out. He folded back his hood, nodding to me briefly.
I called out to him, “Chief Seer Morion, the other chiefs and I are eager to hear your findings.”
He strode over and took the floor from me with a small bow. I went back to my seat for the moment, fully expecting him to verify every word of what I had said about Grace.
Standing in front of the empty throne, the chief seer cleared his throat. “Well, the girl is innocent of intent and knowledge; that is certain. It appears she was used by an unknown number of her superiors back at the moon base she came from.”
I heard faint sighs of relief from those around me and had to echo them, if only in my heart. The accusations of bias against me weren’t far off the mark, although it was not my feelings for Grace that were causing me problems. Instead, it was my suffering that might affect my judgment
My head pounded. My mouth was perpetually dry. A painful craving grew stronger in me with every passing hour: not sexual frustration, not loneliness, but both mixed, and far more. I knew instinctively it was happening because Grace was rejecting our bond.
I could not blame her for doing so now that I understood she could not feel it herself. Among humans, there was no instinctive mating, and a man who claimed to possess a woman was merely being egotistical and cruel. No wonder she had assumed the same of me when I had first announced our bond to my father. Since then, I had restrained myself around her and thus seemed to be winning her trust. But it was starting to cost me.
I held the image of her in my head: small, dark, and smooth-skinned, with those enormous eyes and hair like a thundercloud. Just thinking of her left me forcing down a surge of desire. Grace . . . voluptuous little alien . . . most unlikely and most perfect of mates. I’ll win you yet. I just hope it doesn’t take me too long, or I may go mad.
Morion went on. “The girl sent an image of the high chieftain to her superiors at the base. We don’t yet know if one of them was responsible for the order to assassinate or whether someone on the base intercepted the communication and attempted it individually. Whatever the case, providing that image is the one thing she can be held responsible for. She has already expressed the desire to make amends. She is uninterested in being returned to her base or making any contact with her fellow humans at this point. She is just as shocked as we about the attack, if not more.”
More muttering. Some of the tension left the room. Even Brax looked a bit calmer. Told you so, idiot. But I was too tactful to gloat aloud.
“It is our recommendation that she be taken on the pilgrimage to the Seeress Neyilla, who holds our best hope of healing the high chieftain. Grace’s experience with human technology and medicine should be useful, and we predict her presence will be required. She will act as an assistant to the healer until such time as Dorin recovers or dies.” Morion lifted his chin officiously.
I looked around and saw heads nodding. “Who else is to go on the pilgrimage?”
“Neyilla has specifically asked that you accompany the caravan, War Chief. Our prescients have confirmed the necessity. You must go, sir.”
Wait, what? “What about my duties here?”
“It is suggested you choose a proxy for the interim, as you cannot be expected to maintain your duties from a distance.”
I looked around at the other chiefs and then nodded, standing again to address them. Fine. “Decisions of war and security will be made by general council vote until my return. Chief Morion, I ask you to handle domestic matters in Highfort for now.” I fought the urge to laugh as I saw Brax deflate visibly. “Are there further questions or statements before we adjourn?”
There were none, so I ended the meeting. As the others walked away, Morion walked up and spoke quietly. “You are not well, War Chief.”
I hate mind readers sometimes. “I am well enough to perform my duties.”
“Your performance is not being questioned. But it seems you suffer from being mated to a woman of their kind.” He gazed at me and then spoke quietly again. “Tell Neyilla. If any of us can determine a way to assist you in your affliction, it will be her.”
I nodded distractedly, thanking him for his advice. I did not know why the healer had called for me to accompany the caravan, but at least
it meant Grace and I would not be separated. I suspected if that happened, I would become even sicker.
* * *
In the morning, after breaking our fasts, I led Grace down to the courtyard, doing my best, as usual, to ignore how her jumpsuit clung to her curves. A familiar caravan waited for us at the gate. The sight of it, and the slim woman standing beside the burden-beasts at its head, made me smile through my headache as we approached.
Hello again.
It had been a quarter of a year since I had seen Elorie last, but nothing had changed. She was almost as slight as a human, her clothes the plain leathers of a gatherer, and she still kept her dark-gold hair cut to shoulder length. I remembered gripping that hair by the roots as I pinned her against a wall and her cries of delight—and hoped meeting Grace wouldn’t be too awkward for her.
Grace gasped as she saw the creatures hunkering obediently beside the caravan master. “What are those?”
“Those are Grogs. Did your mentor not tell you about them?”
“Only a little. I expected them to be four-legged, but they’re more like giant apes. Are they intelligent?”
“Somewhat. Our Rilleen are cleverer, but Grogs are more obedient. They will bear the caravan through the jungle for us.
She nodded, staring at them with one arm looped delightfully through mine. She had stuck very close to me since her trial, which made me feel a bit better.
I raised a hand in greeting. “Elorie!”
The caravan master grinned as she saw me. “Well, there you are. I almost left without you,” she teased. “Who’s this?” Her gaze fell on Grace, who nodded distractedly and went back to staring at the Grogs.
What is it with you and animals, little one? I may have to get you a pet. “Elorie, this is Grace, my intended. She is also the human liaison. There’s been—”
Elorie held up a hand. “I’ve been filled in on all the rumors.” She gave Grace a small smile. “Hi. Like the Grogs, huh?”
Grace smiled back. “They’re awesome.”
“Glad you think so. I love the big fuzzies. I’ll introduce you once we get to the Retreat.” Her expression sobered. “I know you’ve never been on a caravan like this before, so let me just go over the rules before we mount up. All right?”
Grace tore her gaze from the beasts and nodded. “Sure. I’m interested to know how you guys travel safely in that homicidal salad you call a forest.”
As the two of them spoke, my gaze slipped past Elorie to rest on the three cargo sedans the Grogs would be carrying. They were enormous, with wooden sides and arch-framed hide roofs. Bench seats for the guards poked out from the front, sides, and back of each. The middle sedan held my father’s makeshift infirmary, where two local healers would tend to him on the journey. The front one would be used as a bunkroom, where we would sleep in shifts as we traveled. The third held cargo and our gear.
I numbered our company at perhaps twenty, most of them members of my warrior caste, with a few gatherers, like Elorie, acting as beast tenders and camp organizers. I was glad she was the one transferring my father to the healer’s forest retreat. She wasn’t just a friend and sometimes lover; she was also the most competent caravan master I knew.
“It’s just a few days to the healing sanctuary. Whatever happens, stay with us. If you get separated from the caravan, chances are we will not be able to help you in time.” Elorie’s tone was grave.
“Is the local forest that dangerous?” Grace looked calm on the outside, but I immediately knew better.
Elorie shrugged. “Compared to some regions? It’s an easy ride. But from what Dr. Stirling told us of your world, yes. Compared to what you’re used to, any forest on Lyra is that dangerous.”
I felt a brief surge of fear that I identified immediately as not my own. It seemed my bond with Grace was deepening, and the empathy had begun. Barely thinking about it, I reached over and laid a hand on her shoulder. She relaxed slightly under my grip, and I felt the foreign fear recede a little. She did feel safe around me. It was progress. But as I stared at her like a starved prisoner might look at a plate of food held just out of reach, I knew it was not enough.
CHAPTER 7 / GRACE
“I think I have something that could help your father,” I said as I sat next to Dekkir on the swaying bench of the second sedan.
He looked over at me. “What are you speaking of? I thought your technology was all confiscated.”
The caravan was nothing like I’d ever experienced. The three giant cargo sedans had no wheels, instead bearing massive handles on their front and back end, which the giant Grogs used to carry them through the forest. Our seats swayed as the creatures clambered over deadfalls and waded through rivers across the trackless landscape, where it was too dangerous to maintain roads.
As we jolted along, I gradually noticed Dekkir looked a little . . . sick. His skin was always pale, especially in contrast with his black-scale armor, but the shadows around his narrow, fierce eyes were new. He had the body of a god and the face of a superhero and radiated self-assuredness even now. The signs of illness stood out even more sharply in contrast.
Guilt gnawed at me as I watched him. I knew somehow that I was responsible for his suffering. Either it was my rejection of him or the stress his father’s poisoning and my trial had caused or some combination. So as soon as I remembered, I spoke up about my possible solution to some of it.
“Everything was except for this.”
I pulled the pendant Dr. Stirling had given me out of my jumpsuit collar. “This contains an emergency pill that was given to me in case I was seriously hurt or got very sick. I don’t know how good it is against poison, but it may be worth a try to give it to Dorin. He needs it more than I do.”
He took it and held it up, peering at the tube-shaped pendant. “I am not certain. That strange bandage you gave me did me good, and this may indeed help my father. But I suggest you show this to Neyilla when we confer with her and let her decide. She is the finest healer on our world. She will know better than I how such a thing may affect a Lyran.”
I nodded . . . then reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
A shudder went through him, and I saw his shining golden eyes hood, like those of a cat I was petting. “I will . . . endure. I mean to ask the healer about our . . . predicament . . . as well.” His throat worked, and I stared at him sadly.
This is my fault. I hadn’t meant it to happen. I didn’t want to see him suffer. It wasn’t even that I didn’t like him or find him attractive. But the urgent hunger he aimed at me, sometimes without even meaning to, completely overwhelmed me. I didn’t feel the same. I couldn’t feel the same, and so his passion came very close to scaring me off entirely.
As I looked at him, I honestly wished there were some way I could match his ardor. But whether it was pheromones, something psychic, or something else the Lyrans had that I didn’t, I couldn’t. My stomach boiled with a mix of shame, apprehension, and frustration.
“If she can help, I’ll cooperate any way I can, okay?” I rubbed his massive arm soothingly around the armor straps, and he shivered again.
Maybe I should just sleep with him, I thought. The idea had some appeal. I haven’t gotten laid in a long time. If I could just get over these weird feelings, it could be nice. But it was more than that. The longer we went on, the more he seemed to . . . pine for my love. He was so tough, so smart and brave, but I saw how this chewed him up from within. He needs me. Maybe I should just make myself.
But the idea of gritting my teeth through a sexual encounter I wasn’t entirely into made me even sicker. In my younger years, men had tried to guilt me into sex or tried to make me feel obligated. Sometimes, it had worked, leaving me dissatisfied and in need of a long shower after. And what if once wasn’t enough to satisfy this . . . imprinting of his?
I brooded on it as we spent our first day on the road. We traveled as constantly as we could; camping was out of the question. But every six hours o
r so, the Grogs had to rest and eat for a while. Each time, they would set down their burdens and then proceed to eat themselves a small clearing out of whatever vegetation was handy. It didn’t matter if it was thorn bushes the size of small buildings, masses of green tentacles that constantly moved on their own, or the ever-present vines. Into the Grogs’ massive jaws it all went, to be chewed up and swallowed with the same enthusiasm every time. Eventually, their vast bellies full, they would settle down for short naps and proceed to snore so loudly it scared birds out of the trees. Elorie explained that sleeping Grogs were so bad-tempered and destructive if forced awake, only the most dangerous or stupid of predators would disturb them.
We stopped again at sunset. Dekkir went off to speak to some of the other warriors, and I took the opportunity to jump down and cautiously stretch my legs around the small artificial clearing. My joints popped as I moved, and I immediately started feeling a little better. I walked carefully, avoiding the edges of the clearing. I was mindful of what Elorie had said and had seen what this forest could do. I was halfway through my first circuit when I saw the caravan master walking up to me.
“Hey,” she said breezily. “I had been hoping to get a chance to talk to you alone.”
I tensed slightly but gave her a smile. “Yeah? What about?”
“You know, Dekkir and I have been lovers off and on.” Her smile got a little tight, and mine died. “Oh, it’s never been anything serious. Lyrans don’t really get into anything serious until we find real mates. Which is kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know whether to be relieved she wasn’t jealous of me or annoyed about her sticking in her nose in general. “So what’s up?”
“I was just wondering why you’re not interested in Dekkir. I guess I don’t understand it.”
“Well, the short of it is humans don’t have the same—mating thing?—that you do. Basically, he’s suddenly crazy for me, and I feel guilty because I don’t feel the same way back. I wish I could. Now that I know him a little better, he’s a great guy. But I don’t have the pheromones or the psychic powers or whatever causes True Mating.”
