Ivar's Prize

by Amy Pennza

  Years ago, she’d attended a party where the host had brought out a rare, dusty bottle of champagne. The sweet bubbles had tickled her nose and buzzed down her throat. This was like that, only the bubbles were under her skin. They sparked and slid along her veins, pooling low in her belly. She groaned and sagged backward.

  Soft arms slid around her waist. “Just relax,” Annika said in her ear.

  Firm bodies pressed her front and back, and a hand cupped her breast. A bolt of alarm pierced the dreamy, bubbly fog. She wasn’t sunburned there. The hand slid down her stomach and between her thighs. Nadia jerked and forced her eyes open. Eleni smiled at her. “You’re beautiful.”

  The drowsy feeling fell away. Nadia eased out of Annika’s hold and slipped sideways between them. “I don’t— I-I’m not—”

  “It’s okay,” Eleni said. “We understand.”

  Nadia sloshed a distance away and faced them. “I’m flattered, and you’re gorgeous. You’re both gorgeous, but—”

  “It’s okay,” Annika said. “Really.”

  Nadia glanced between them. They didn’t look mad…or even disappointed. They stared at her, their faces calm and open. “Oh. Well…thanks for your help. With my sunburn.” She closed her eyes. Awkward wasn’t a strong enough word for this.

  Eleni laughed. “You’re adorable.”

  Nadia opened her eyes. Is that what she was? She’d been thinking more along the lines of mortified.

  Annika swam to the steps and climbed out, water sluicing off her sleek body. She grabbed a few towels from a low bench positioned against the cavern wall.

  Eleni watched her with an admiring look, then turned her smile back to Nadia. “Ready?” She found Nadia’s hand under the surface and pulled her over to the steps.

  Reluctant to leave the security of the water, Nadia hung back as Eleni left the pool. “If one of you could just hand me a towel—”

  Annika unfolded one and motioned for her to come out.

  “Let me guess, there’s kaptum in those too?”

  “No, but we might have missed an injury. I’ll take a look.”

  Gritting her teeth, Nadia climbed out. Cool air hit her skin. She snatched the towel from Annika’s hand. The fabric was threadbare, but at least it covered her. She was no prude, but she was done with naked bath parties for the day. She tucked a corner of the towel under her armpit.

  “Ivar said you hurt your leg,” Annika said. She’d snapped another towel open and stood rubbing her hair. Eleni sat on the bench, a towel around her hips, her upper body bare.

  Nadia took a step back. “It’s fine.”

  Eleni pointed. “I see it.”

  “Really, it’s fine.” She wasn’t sure she could handle another tingle session. She wanted to clap her hands and exclaim, “I have an idea, let’s all put our clothes back on!”

  Annika flung her damp hair over her shoulders. “If you’re going to share Ivar’s bed, you should let us take care of it. He’s a”—she glanced at Eleni—“vigorous lover.”

  “I’m not sharing his bed.”

  “Maybe not tonight.”

  “Not ever.” Even as she said it, a little voice in her head asked, Then why did you agree to have dinner with him?

  Eleni patted the bench. “It’ll be quick. You don’t want it to scar, do you?”

  Nadia sighed and walked over. Clearly, there was no winning with these two. She pinched the edges of the towel together as she sat.

  Annika knelt in front of her and grasped her injured leg. “It’s not too bad.” She lifted her leg higher, forcing her foot into the air.

  Nadia snatched it back. “Don’t!”

  Annika sat back on her heels. “Does it hurt?”

  “No. I’m sorry. I just… It startled me.”

  “That’s okay. Just stay very still. This won’t take long.” She put her hand over the cut and closed her eyes. The kaptum band around her right bicep faded, like ink seeping into paper. The warm, buzzing feeling suffused Nadia’s leg. It traveled a sparkling path up her calf to her stomach. Almost as soon as it started, it stopped. Annika lifted her hand and smiled. “All done.”

  Nadia looked at her calf. The skin was smooth, as if the cut had never been. “Wow. Thank you.”

  “Of course.”

  Eleni stood and shucked her towel. She knelt and rummaged under the bench. “I have some clothes.” She stood, a comb in one hand and a small bundle in the other. She handed the bundle to Nadia. “I had to guess your size.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” Nadia said. There was a plain shirt—with sleeves—and a pair of long pants. When she shook them out, a small piece of cloth dropped to the ground. She picked it up. “Underwear!”

  “They’re hard to come by on Tolbos, so be careful with them,” Annika said.

  There was still no bra, but Nadia didn’t care. The clothes were clean, and the top fit like it had been made just for her. She stood placidly while Eleni combed the tangles from her hair and applied a sweet-smelling oil to the heavy mass.

  “It’ll help with the dryness,” Eleni said.

  At last, the women retrieved their clothes and dressed. They took turns with the comb, then spread the still-damp towels over the bench. When they were done, Annika turned to Nadia.

  “Are you ready for Ivar?”

  Was she ever. She had quite a few things to say to him. She smiled. “Lead the way.”

  11

  Nadia watched Annika and Eleni disappear down the spiral stairs outside Ivar’s cave. What to make of that experience?

  She stretched out her arms. They’d certainly delivered on their promise to heal her injuries. The sunburn was gone—along with the pain. She bounced in place a little. Her leg was good too. In fact, she’d never felt better. And whatever Eleni had put in her hair smelled amazing.

  The scent of food drifted from the cave. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d eaten nothing all day besides the handful of protein cubes. She squared her shoulders and stepped through the doorway.

  Ivar was behind his desk, his eyes on a piece of paper in his hand. Flickering torchlight played over his skin. Two covered plates sat at his elbow, thin trails of steam rising from their surface. He looked up and then stood as she crossed the room. “Nadia.” His gaze started at her head and worked a slow path downward. “I trust Annika and Eleni took good care of you?”

  She stopped a few paces away from the desk and folded her arms in a slow, deliberate movement. “It was very revealing.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “I don’t know. Do you consider being asked to join a threesome a bad thing?” She closed her eyes.

  “I—”

  “Don’t answer that.” She opened her eyes and glared at him. “Why would you send me down there if you knew they were going to do that?”

  “I…didn’t.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth. Almost as if he couldn’t help himself, he muttered, “Did you take them up on it?”

  She narrowed her gaze.

  He shook himself. “Of course you didn’t. Listen. Annika and Eleni… They’re sort of free spirits. I promise they didn’t mean any harm by it. I’ll talk to them.”

  “Oh yeah? Maybe you can discuss it the next time they’re in your bed. Annika made sure to mention what a vigorous lover you are.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Careful. That sounds a lot like jealousy to me.”

  “Jealousy? Are you really accusing me of being jealous right now?” She twisted to glance at his bed. “You might remember I turned down your proposition.”

  His smile stayed, and that damn dimple appeared, but his gaze grew heated. “Oh, I remember. That offer still stands, by the way.”

  She dragged in a breath. Anger simmered in her veins, but it was joined by the slow, pumping beat of desire. The shirt Annika had given her was tight across her breasts. The material rubbed against her nipples, which had pebbled to tight peaks.

  His gaze dropped to her arms still cr
ossed over her chest. He looked up.

  He knew. He knew she wanted him. And she wasn’t exactly giving him a reason to doubt it. Hell, she was acting like a jilted girlfriend!

  Her stomach growled, a great rumbling sound so loud she gasped and covered her midriff.

  The dimple flashed. “Sit, Na-dee-ya. Let’s eat first and fight later.”

  “I’m not fighting.” Inwardly, she winced. That had sounded petulant and childish. Dammit, she had every right to be angry! Or at least offended. Because she was not jealous of his relationship—or whatever it was—with Annika and Eleni.

  He gestured to the steaming plates. “This tastes much better hot.”

  On cue, her stomach growled again. She plopped into the chair.

  He removed the covers from the plates. Wooden spoons lay along the sides. “The finest cuisine Tolbos has to offer.”

  She stood and took the plate closest to her. She didn’t care if it was Council rations. She just needed to get food in her stomach before it caused a cave-in. She balanced the plate on her knees. The food looked like the stew she’d eaten yesterday. She scooped one of the potato-looking chunks and ate it. Heaven.

  As he had before, Ivar applied himself to his meal with single-minded intensity, not even glancing up as he devoured the food. She followed his lead.

  For several minutes, the only sounds in the room were chewing and the occasional crackle of the torches. She was halfway finished when a bite crunched in her mouth. It tasted like carrot, but that couldn’t be. She hunted through the food left on her plate. Sure enough, there were a couple orange chunks in there. She tried to smash one with her spoon. It stayed intact.

  “Ivar?”

  He looked up. Still chewing, he raised his eyebrows.

  She tapped her plate with her spoon. “There are carrots in this. Raw carrots.”

  He swallowed. “Yeah?”

  “The Council sends raw vegetables?” If so, the people on Tolbos were luckier than they knew. Even starships had trouble getting fresh food.

  He set his spoon down and leaned back. “The Council doesn’t send them. We grow them. Although, we’ve had trouble with the carrots. They don’t cook properly.”

  She looked at the orange speck on her plate. Never mind the raw carrots. They grew crops? That was impossible. Mentally, she ticked through all the reasons why. Tolbos didn’t get enough rain. The soil was too dry. The surface had almost zero protection from the suns. Yet she’d definitely just eaten a carrot. “That’s…” She lifted her gaze to his. “How?”

  He stood and walked to her chair. He stared down at her for a moment, then took the plate from her lap and set it on the desk. “I’ll show you.”

  “Where?”

  He tilted his head toward the curtained room.

  A ripple of panic shot through her. “You keep a carrot patch in there? I must have missed it before.”

  His smile was soft. “It’s not that high up. Here, I’ll hold your hand.”

  She let him pull her to her feet. “Why don’t you just tell me about your carrots?”

  He put her palms against his chest and curled his hands over hers. “Ah, but this is a sight you don’t want to miss.”

  The teasing light in his eyes made her pulse jump. Did he know how charming that dimple was? How it transformed his entire face? She gave in to the impulse to tease him back. “Another once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? That’s what you said about the garbage pit.”

  “Have you ever seen anything like it in your life?”

  “I’d prefer to never see it again, actually.”

  “I can arrange that.”

  She caught her breath. His proposition again. The playful look was gone—replaced with something intense. Powerful. Lust, she thought. Raw and undiluted. Fire ripped along her veins, streaking to the places her body wanted him to be. “Ivar…”

  He brushed his thumb across her lower lip. “Shhh. I want to show you something. You won’t be disappointed.”

  His touch made her tremble, so her voice shook when she said, “Talking up your cliff again?”

  He leaned close and put his lips to her ear. “Is it working?”

  She opened her mouth, but no words would come. Her fingers curled against his chest.

  He pulled back. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He took her hand and led her to the curtain. Before he stepped through he looked back at her. “Good?”

  She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Yes.”

  Still holding her hand, he tugged her inside.

  He paused on the threshold. Behind them, the curtain dropped into place, snuffing out the light from the main room and plunging them into darkness. Crisp, cold air swirled around her. Goosebumps broke out across her skin. Being in the mountain, she hadn’t noticed the day passing into night. The last time she’d been outside, the suns had filled the sky. Now, the open-air room was washed in night—the missing wall a sheet of black.

  Except it wasn’t really black. As her eyes adjusted, a faint blue light appeared along the edge of the drop. Above it, tiny stars—weak pinpricks—winked in the sky. The blue light pulsed. “What is that?” she whispered.

  Ivar squeezed her hand. “Come see.”

  She felt a tug of apprehension as he guided her forward. Then the light pulsed again, like it was beckoning them. They approached the edge. With each step, the blue light swelled. Was it coming from the ground? It had to be.

  A current of warm air pierced the cold. She stopped. “What’s going on?”

  Ivar gave her hand another squeeze. “It won’t hurt you.” He urged her closer to the ledge.

  Warm air swirled—just enough to be noticeable. Each shuffle forward revealed more of the soft light. She stretched a hand toward it as they neared the drop. Gentle warmth curled around her fingertips, then her hand, and finally her forearm.

  The pit came into view first, then the edges of the crater—all of it touched by soft, glowing blue light. Beyond the crater, the plain was blanketed in the same pulsing, electric blue. That’s where the light originated, she realized. It glowed brightest there.

  Drawn to it, she stepped closer. The bottom of the pit seemed to rush up at her. Her stomach pitched. She yanked her hand from Ivar’s and stumbled back.

  He moved in front of her and raised his hands. “It’s okay—”

  “T-too high.”

  “All right. You don’t have to go closer.” His voice was soft, like he was talking to a child.

  She inhaled, willing her heart to slow its frantic gallop. It helped that he stayed put. With his big body blocking the ledge, there was no chance of her tumbling over it.

  The panic receded, and embarrassment washed in. “I’m sorry.”

  “No need to apologize.” Behind him, the light pulsed. It was like a breath—or a heartbeat.

  She stood on tiptoe and peered over his shoulder. The light pulsed again. Warm air washed over her face. “What’s down there?”

  “Crops. The first of their kind on Tolbos.”

  She pulled back. “Living plants?”

  “Mmhm.” He smiled, and even in the dim light she could see pride in his eyes. “Potatoes mostly, but we’ve managed some carrots too.”

  “And the blue? It’s kaptum?” Excitement built in her mind. If there were plants on Tolbos, her prison had just become a paradise.

  His smile broadened. “I told you it’s in everything.”

  Joy burst inside her. She covered her mouth with her palm so he wouldn’t see her grinning like an idiot.

  “I know crops aren’t necessarily exciting,” he said, “but growing our own food is the first step toward—”

  “Ivar!” She clutched his arm. “This is amazing!”

  “I know. It’s—”

  “No, you don’t understand. I’m a botanist.” Her mind whirled with questions. “Do you realize how huge this is? Where did you get the water? I can help you—” He was looking at her like she’d sprouted another head. “What’s wrong?�
��

  “You said you were part of a field team. You were studying pollution.” His voice sounded strange.

  “That’s right. Pollution on the Martian surface. The Council thinks it’s affecting the food supply.”

  He seized her upper arms. “Did the Council send you?”

  “What?” She tried to jerk away, but he gripped her tighter. “Ow! What the fuck?”

  His fingers dug into her skin. Pain shot to her shoulders. “Answer me!”

  “Let go of me!” What the hell was wrong with him? She pulled harder.

  He swung her around and backed her up to the wall. Her shoulders hit the stone, forcing a grunt from her and rattling her bones. The ledge was less than a foot away. Blue splashed over them.

  Panic clawed a path to her gut. Her stomach dipped, and she thought she might retch. She sucked in a breath. “Ivar—”

  “Answer me!”

  “Wh-what did you ask me?” Her gaze bounced between the drop and his enraged face. Too close. They were too close to the edge!

  He gripped her chin. “Did the Council send you to spy on me?”

  Blood roared in her ears. The only thing that mattered was getting away from the ledge. She writhed in his grip. His fingers bit harder into her chin. She flailed her free arm and struck the side of his head. His eyes flashed. He released her face and slammed her shoulders against the stone.

  Desperate, she kicked at his legs. Her boot struck something hard. He swore. Silver flashed near his shoulder. Kaptum, thick and shivering, raced down his right arm and slid across her collarbone. It felt like a million tiny legs on her skin.

  “Stop!” She kicked again. “Get it off me!” Heat seared her neck, then shot to each wrist. Her arms were flung to the wall on either side of her hips. Her head thunked against the rock. Agony burst across the back of her skull, and nausea made her gut churn. She was pinned. Like the auction. Like the other times.

  No. She wouldn’t think about that.

  She couldn’t turn her head, but she darted a glance at the ledge. Too close. Bile scalded the back of her throat. The roaring in her ears increased. Ivar loomed over her. He shouted something but she couldn’t hear it over the thunder in her head.