“I don’t know, Mom, maybe I’m just screwed up! Maybe I’m not perfect!” I shouted.
“This is about your father, isn’t it?” she asked. She was quiet and calm, and that only infuriated me more. I wanted her to shout back, to give me a reason to lash out other than myself. “You miss him.”
“Maybe I do miss him!” I yelled, throwing my coat to the ground and kicking it into the darkness. “Maybe I wish it was you who died instead of him!”
And with that horrible, crushing statement, I fled from the room with sand falling from my hair.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Venan
Though I had only been gone a few hours, it struck me as odd that the palace was exactly as I had left it. Evidently, my guards had taken my orders seriously when I had commanded them to stay at their posts and leave me be. Either that, or they were happy to leave me be because they harbored the same ill will toward me and my appointment as Elder as the rest of Dhal’at. In any case, I was left to myself once more from the moment I returned, and I retreated back up to my bedroom.
The events of the day had been more than a little confusing and certainly unexpected. To learn the Novai needed an answer as quickly as possible about their potential residency here on Albaterra was overwhelming in and of itself, but I was equally as baffled by the lack of confrontation from the Council members aside from Ma’ris regarding my hair. After Captain Hett had told us the purpose for his visit, Vi’den had dismissed him from our presence and addressed the Council. He declared this too big a decision to be made in a single Forum and thought it best we schedule to reconvene in two weeks after each Elder had had considerable time to think over the Novai proposition and examine the benefits and drawbacks to the citizens of their respective kingdoms.
I retired to bed without giving the Novai any more thought. Physically, I felt fine, but my mind was exhausted from endless worrying and the weight of the Council’s newest concern. The moment my head hit the pillow, I was asleep and blissfully blind to the world.
When I awoke the following morning, my first thought was not of the Elders or the Novai or Dhal’at; it was of Octavia. I had not seen her in days, and I realized with a hollow pang I missed her. It was a strange realization, as we were little more than friendly acquaintances by most standards, but we had opened up to one another in a way I never had before with someone and felt a connection to her for it. I laid in bed without sitting up and mulled over the possibility of venturing into the colony today to see her.
A knock at the door wrangled my attention. It seemed my warriors had not abandoned me after all. Slipping out from beneath the blankets, I slid into my jodhpurs and went to the door.
“Good morning, Wise One,” Katil greeted the moment he was within view. He lowered his chin, but, as always, I was unable to decipher if the gesture was one of obligation or genuine respect.
“Good morning,” I replied rather stiffly. He had not yet seen the drastic change I had made to my appearance, nor had any of the others under my command, but his eyes were still on his boots, and he had not yet made the discovery.
“I hope I did not wake you.” Finally, he raised his head, and his orbs widened to exceptional proportion. His lower lip separated from his upper in a circular gape, which would have been comical normally given how stoic Katil tended to be.
With a shake of my head and a noticeable lack of hair flowing around my shoulders, I told him, “You did not. However, I am curious what has brought you to my room at this early hour.”
His mouth opened and closed silently for several long seconds before he obtained a measure of composure. “I was—there—” His tongue was visibly stumbling over his words like a clumsy child learning to speak for the first time. With a steadying jerk, he began again. “Grivil reported an uninvited visitor yesterday. We would have informed you when it happened, but you had already left, and we did not wish to disturb you after your return last night.”
“Oh?” I was finding it difficult to hold back a chuckle as I watched Katil attempt to look anywhere but my head. “Did he encounter trouble?”
“No, she was compliant,” he replied awkwardly.
The word she stole a spark of interest from me, and I straightened up slightly. “Do you happen to know the identity of this mysterious visitor?” I asked, trying not to betray the hope I felt in my voice.
“She did not offer her name, but she was human. Dark-haired, average height. Zuran happened to be leaving the palace while she was here, and he knew her.”
If there was a seedling of doubt as to who she was in my mind, it was buried beneath the excitement that flooded me. By all accounts, the description was Octavia, and to learn she had come to see me was perhaps the best thing that had happened to me since she agreed to join me for dinner. I was surprised she had dared to do so without an escort, but the fact that she had only endeared me to her more.
“Is that all?” I inquired.
Katil shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. “Yes, Wise One,” he responded. Then, tentatively, he added, “Although, may I ask you something?”
“You wish to know about my hair, yes?”
“Yes.” His sapphire cheeks charred with subtle embarrassment.
“There is really very little to be explained about it,” I said. “I decided to make a change and start fresh, both as an A’li-uud and as an Elder.”
He did not nod or speak. He merely stared at me unblinkingly, failing to comprehend why I would have done such a thing for such a reason.
“Have you any other questions?” I pressed.
“No,” he answered quickly, stepping back from the doorframe. “Thank you, Wise One.”
I inclined my head and closed the door, listening to his footsteps retreating down the corridor to the staircase. So, Octavia had come to visit. I was unaware why she had done so, but it was irrelevant to me. I decided I would find out later, that I would indeed go into the Ka-lik’et human colony and seek her out. After everything else, seeing her would be a gift.
For several hours, however, I remained holed up in my bedroom while the sun began its daily journey across the sky. It was too early to go to Octavia, and I did feel a responsibility to give Captain Hett’s request some thought.
Regarding the Novai, my gut instinct was to turn them away. Sharing Albaterra with the humans was pleasant enough, but the humans were docile and, thus far, at least, respectful of everything from the ground beneath their feet to any A’li-uud they encountered. In my experience, they were simply trying to learn where they fit in our world, and that was exactly the type of colonist who would both benefit and be beneficial in coexistence with us. The Novai had been quite the opposite. While it would have been unfair to say all of them had been troublesome, there were at least a good percentage who had demonstrated aggression, defiance, or outright hostility. Then, of course, there was the matter of the sun-sickness. It had been that very ailment that had led to the death of Elder Kharid, and thereby led to the state of political affairs I found myself in now. From our understanding, the sun-sickness was not preventable by any of the Novai and certainly not their fault, but it was another item to tack up on the list of reasons they were unsuitable cohabiters.
I was growing tired of musing over the Novai by the time mid-morning arrived. Just as I imagined it was an appropriate hour to go to the colony and find Octavia, I heard loud voices outside my window. I crossed the room and looked through the glass.
There below, engaged in a heated argument with Grivil, was Octavia.
She looked stunning. Her hair was preened into smooth tresses and spilled over her shoulders like liquid midnight. The curviness of her figure was accentuated by her sky-colored top and form-fitting pants. Glinting gold earrings dangled from her lobes and swung wildly each time she moved her head, and even from a distance, I could see she had painted her eyes in delicate yet flattering makeup.
One of her arms was lifted toward the palace, her forefinger extended and
pointing with insistent jabs. I was unable to make out her words, but I could hear her tone, and she sounded furious. Grivil responded to her, and, though his mannerisms were hardly as forceful as hers, his gravelly voice was much louder and more contentious than I thought appropriate.
I ducked out of the bedroom and raced down the stairs two at a time. Winding my way through the palace, I came to the front double doors and threw them open without waiting for a warrior to do so for me. Both Grivil and Octavia turned to look at me the second I appeared into their sight, and both immediately donned expressions of great relief.
“What is the trouble?” I asked sternly, directing my question to Grivil.
“She is demanding to be granted entrance into the palace,” he grumbled. As he explained, he thrust his staff toward her menacingly. My hand snapped forward and seized it at once, freezing it in place. Grivil looked at me with widening eyes. “Wise One?”
“This human is allowed in my palace whenever she chooses,” I told him through tight lips. “And she does not require an escort.”
He shook his head, perplexed. “But—”
“And, in the future,” I interrupted, raising my voice to speak over him, “I would advise you to speak to a female of any race with considerably greater respect than you have displayed here today.”
He started to open his mouth in protest, but I narrowed my eyes warningly, and he lowered his gaze to the ground. “Yes, Wise One.” He flicked his eyes briefly to Octavia. “My apologies.”
“Thank you,” I said. Then, I reached for Octavia’s hand and pulled her away from the palace and Grivil into the Ka-lik’et streets. The hubbub of market shoppers was a din of chatter, footsteps, clatters, and rustlings. It was loud enough to drown out anything we might say to each other at normal volume, but I lowered my voice anyway. “What do you mean by arguing with my guard?”
Octavia bristled, her dark brows furrowing over her obsidian eyes. “What?”
“I mean to say it is a waste of your time to do so,” I clarified. “He has his orders, and it is his duty to stick to them no matter how pretty a face begs him otherwise.”
She stared at me for a long second, and I thought she was angry, but then her cheeks relaxed, and she smiled. “Good to know for next time,” she quipped.
I offered her a smile of my own and reminded her, “There will be no next time. You have just been granted exclusive access to the palace, day or night.”
“Ooh.” She fluttered her lashes teasingly, and then reached up and ran her hand over my shorn head. “Your hair really looks great this way.”
“Thank you,” I replied with a slight downward tilt of my chin. “I heard you came by yesterday.”
She nodded. “I did. I hadn’t seen you since the haircut, and I was a little worried about how you were doing. You just seemed so down and depressed and…I don’t know…kind of angry, I guess.” She squinted a bit to study my features. “You don’t seem that way now, though. Which I’m glad to see, although it steps on the toes of what I have planned a little bit.”
It was my turn to express myself with my brows, and I lifted them curiously. “You have a plan?”
“I do,” she said, nodding again. “Are you free right now?”
“Yes. Do with me what you will.”
She grinned widely and clasped her hands around my forearm. “Fabulous! Then, come with me, and don’t ask any questions!”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Octavia
For some reason, I was nervous. Really nervous. My stomach was fluttering like it had become infested with a nest of butterflies on speed, and my palms were clammy with anticipation. I wasn’t afraid Venan would be mad that I found out about the oasis or that I talked to Zuran about him, but I was afraid he would feel judged by me, and that was the last thing I wanted.
He was quiet as I led him until about ten minutes had passed. As we delved deeper into the desert and Ka-lik’et disappeared completely behind us, he started glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. Finally, he said lightly, “I do not know whether you are aware of this or not, but Elders have the ability to travel on the wind.”
“Oh, really?” I asked absently. I was scanning the horizon, looking for the telltale landmarks Zuran had instructed me to watch out for, the ones I remembered from my journey here yesterday. “What’s that like?”
“It can be frightening at first, but it becomes exhilarating after one grows accustomed to it,” he answered. In a pointed tone, he added, “And it is a very fast method of transport.”
I laughed aloud, my chortle carrying on the breeze to the far-off reaches of the Dhal’atian landscape. “I’m sure it is, but you’re not tricking me that way,” I chided, wagging a playfully scolding finger at him. “This is supposed to be a surprise.”
Venan shrugged his shoulders a bit and remarked idly, “I would have been foolish not to try.”
The aura between us was so comfortable, so normal, that I felt like we could have just as easily been walking through a mall together as we were across an arid, never-ending expanse of sand. An image of Venan strolling into Old Navy with me and trying on Bermuda shorts cracked a grin across my face, but I tried to turn away before he could see it and inquire.
A behemoth of a dune rose from the horizon before us a few short steps later, and my chest tightened immediately upon seeing it. We were close now, very close, and I would either be dealing with a reluctant but grateful alien or an extremely displeased one. I peered at him next to me through my peripheral vision, trying to determine what he was feeling and if he recognized the area. His mouth wasn’t stiff, his eyes weren’t narrowed, and his gait was loping and casual. He seemed at ease. If he did recognize the area, he didn’t think anything of it. So far, I was in the clear.
When we reached the top of the dune, and the oasis came into view, I halted. Venan halted at my side and looked at me quizzically. “Well? Is this what you wished to show me?”
“Sort of,” I said tentatively.
“I regret telling you this, but I have known of this place for quite a long time,” he told me ruefully. “Since I was a young A’li-uud, in fact.”
“Yeah, I know.” I wanted to avoid making eye contact with him, but I didn’t want to give him the impression I was up to something horrible, so I met his gaze. I watched it harden slightly at the edges. Quickly, I explained, “Zuran told me you used to come here when you were little. He said children swim here and jump from the rocks.”
Venan’s lips pursed marginally. “Did he? When was this conversation had?” he probed. I couldn’t tell if he was mad or not.
“Yesterday, while you were away,” I replied hastily. “He was leaving the palace when I was trying to go in.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, Katil did mention that.”
“Yeah, so we got to talking, and he told me about this oasis and how you two used to come here together when you were young.” I was speaking so fast my words were starting to blend together into clumsy contractions, but I couldn’t stop my tongue once it started clickety-clacking. “I thought we should come here, you know, you and me because Zuran mentioned your parents always told you not to jump from the rocks but he did it anyway and you never—”
“Octavia.” He said my name so firmly it jarred me into silence, and my mouth snapped shut with a pop. “Why have you brought me here?”
He didn’t ask the question like he was angry; he just sounded matter-of-fact. If his intention was to calm me down from my frenzy, it worked. I took in a deep breath and answered much more slowly, “I want you to jump.”
His face didn’t change in the slightest, not even a flinch. It was like he hadn’t even heard me. I stared at him, waiting for any response at all, but he gave me nothing.
“Did you, um, hear me?” I asked uncertainly.
“I heard you,” he said, “but I do not believe you.”
Now, it was my turn to gaze blankly back at him. “What do you mean, you don’t believe me?”
“You brought me here to jump from the rocks because my brother told you about my coming here as a youth?” He shook his head. “Surely, you cannot expect me to believe that. You must have something very sneaky planned to tell such a tale as that.”
“Venan, I’m not joking,” I insisted. My fear of his response was starting to melt away in light of his doubt. “Zuran told me you never would jump even though he and all the rest of the kids did because your parents told you it was dangerous. He also told me you’ve lived your entire life by the book, which you’ve also alluded to. Cutting your hair was a great step in discovering what you really want for yourself without the expectations of the world around you muddling it up. But it was a big step with a lot of potential to upset a lot of people, and someone in your position probably shouldn’t be taking such a big step without taking little steps first.” I gestured toward the circle of cliffs. “This is a little step.”
There was no longer any disbelief behind his eyes, nor was there any humor either. He turned his head away from me to scan the scene at the bottom of the dune. The rocks were unoccupied by A’li-uud children, the pool of water absent of any bathers or swimmers. We were very much alone.
“Did he tell you why Mother and Father warned us not to jump from the rocks?” he asked, completely serious now. “Did he happen to mention a child died that way?”
“Yeah, he did,” I said a little sadly. “It’s terrible. And, believe me, I get why your parents would want to protect you from that risk. But it sounds to me like that time in your life was the start of…well, this. Doing what you were told to avoid any trouble and never pushing the envelope to find out what you really wanted.”
Venan: A Paranormal Sci-Fi Alien Romance: Albaterra Mates Book 7 (The End) Page 14
