by Aimee Moore
“It was pleasurable.” Dal began running large, wet hands over me, washing away any residual dirt that I may have missed the day before.
“Dal?”
“Sera.”
“Did I... please you?” I searched his face for traces of laughter or worse, indifference.
“Probably more so than I did you,” he said softly.
I smiled, pulling my hair over my shoulder and turning to let him continue rinsing me, sighing with contentment.
Dal continued running water over my back and following with the rough pads of his hands. He took special care on my injuries from Patroma's questioning. “My people share a bath after mating. It is a sign of respect,” Dal's low voice tumbled past me.
I looked over my shoulder at him. “My people don't call it mating.”
“You make emotions.”
I turned to Dal. “It's called making love.”
“Love is an emotion.”
“Well, mating just sounds like it belongs in a barn. Do you think we were no different than barn animals?”
“Hm. Perhaps the purpose was the same, but the motive was different.”
I leaned into Dal, delighting in the thrill his naked body sent to my belly. “What was your motive, Dal?” I whispered. Dal was looking into my eyes as if he were reading my book again.
“To feel you.”
I searched his piercing gaze, wondering at the mysteries it held. Worlds. Lifetimes. Things beyond my reckoning.
I let a soft sigh out of my nose and looked down at Dal's chest, the many intricate tattoos swirling and dancing over dusky skin. As often as I’d looked at him and wondered at the softness of his skin, I never thought I’d be here touching him as I wished. He was better than I imagined, smooth warmth layered over solid strength. The tattoos, elegant lines and symbols that I could spend forever tracing.
“What do they mean, Dal?”
“Many things. Some are declarations. Some are spells. Some are memories.”
“Spells?” I looked up at Dal.
Dal nodded without offering more.
I looked back down at the intricate, flowing line over Dal's heart. It was a large artistic whorl, leaving an empty space within. Just big enough for my hand. “What does this one mean?”
Dal glanced down, then met my eyes. “It is the ability to touch all without touch.”
“That doesn't make any sense.”
Dal began spooning water through my hair, cleaning me as he spoke. “When Kraw are young, they are sent to live with scholars. Some are turned away, proclaimed warriors. Some are kept for further learning. And some are sent back into the world with other purposes. The scholars learn the young Kraw with patient wisdom, and our fates are made part of our skin for all to see. My scholar, having a small gift of foresight, seemed to find humor in my fate.”
I traced the line again, giving the moment pause as I thought. “When I was a little girl, a band of nomads came to Lambston.” I raised my lashes to Dal to see his brow knit in confusion. “Traveling craftsmen and performers who don't follow cultural rules. They are said to have a little magic of their own.” I looked back down at Dal's tattoo after a look of recognition crossed his face.
“There was a young man among their troupe who charged for fortunes, and I watched as the older girls all gathered around the handsome man to have him look into their eyes and tell them of their futures.
“He used cards that no one understood but him, but for a fee he would sell those, too, with the fortune he saw. Long after he left, when the older girls had turned into young women, I would spy them pulling the fortune card out for a peek. They seemed to march toward the fate on the card as if it was the only path for them, some even striving to make the silly fortune true.” I laughed to myself at the memory.
Dal's large hand swallowed my own. “Do not attribute human ways to Kraw culture. Kraw are not so foolish to fall prey to charlatans and fortune peddlers.”
“'The ability to touch all without touch.' What kind of people could you possibly reach out to that don't have touch of their own? That's silly. And why would you touch them?”
“See more, Sera,” Dal whispered between us.
I furrowed my brow up at him, trying to connect the words to what I knew of Dal. There was so little I knew.
“My clan was killed because of my choice. I touched their lives without laying a hand upon them.”
I searched Dal's gaze for a moment. “What was your wife... your mate like?” I regretted the words the moment they flew from my lips. There was no use trying to cage them again, so I watched them fly. To my surprise, frost did not wilt the warm spring of Dal's eyes.
“My mate.” A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Stubborn. Strong. Arrogant.”
I furrowed my brow, not expecting such a factual description of the woman Dal had shared his life with.
“Do Kraw love?” I asked.
Dal smiled at me. “As much as humans do, perhaps more. But you wish to know if I loved her and ache for her loss. Our mating was one of political convenience, to bring clans together and serve the greater purpose. I appreciated the woman at my side, but I loved the son she gave me.”
I watched as sadness seeped into Dal's eyes. “I'm so sorry, Dal.”
“It is the Kraw way.” And at that, the sadness vanished, already removed from the moment.
“But—"
“No more questions. Or I will silence you.” Dal's large hands at my back pressed me to him on a growl.
I frowned up at Dal. “Is threatening the woman you made love to also the Kraw way?”
“Yes.” And before I could point out that he had allowed me to call it “making love,” Dal lowered his lips to mine.
I let a soft moan fill the space between us as Dal's kiss sent a wild passion fluttering within me. His hands traveled my body, grabbing my rear and pulling me into him, making me throb with anticipation. I wrapped my arms around Dal's neck and pulled, letting a frustrated sound of need hiss between our lips. But Dal only gave a soft laugh following the brush of his tongue.
“You are too injured for more,” Dal said.
I pulled away. “How do you know?”
“Kraw smell injury as surely as they smell arousal.”
I raised one brow. “You know when I want you?”
Dal bit at my lip. “I have known a long time, Seraphine. Perhaps before you did. Come, the human stirs, and he must not know of our deeds.” Dal helped me shrug into my sack shirt, cold and wet now, and touched my cheek before striding toward the cave.
He called Mindrik “the human;” what did that make me?
I followed, noticing the burnt patch of skin on Dal's back, healing a soft tan color. “I'm sorry I burnt you, Dal.”
He kept walking. “Do not show sorrow for deeds done in battle, for the logic that orchestrates our song is out of tune when danger has passed.” Dal stepped into his pants and kept walking.
I furrowed by brow as I splashed along behind him. Just as we got to the entrance of the cave, Mindrik was stumbling out, puffy eyed and stiff.
“What in the seven hells are you two doing in this ice water so early?”
Dal and I glanced at each other.
“Bathing,” Dal said, turning back toward the shore.
“Together?” Mindrik pressed, raising an eyebrow at us.
“Kraw value cleanliness. It is a shame that humans do not,” Dal said without turning around.
Mindrik scowled. “I smell just fine, I'll have you two know. I can bathe when I want without dunking myself in pond water rife with fowl droppings. And why is she so bruised?”
“I fell,” I said. “Lake muck is slippery.”
Mindrik's skeptical gaze on me was a little too cutting. My stomach growled loud enough to startle a bear, taking my attention away from the electric monolith of a man striding ahead of me.
“I seem to have worked up an appetite,” I said, trying not to smile at my private joke.
Dal's voic
e held the slightest hint of humor. “I shall hunt. Go and dry.” And with that, Dal lumbered off to grab his spear before perching on his fishing rock again.
Mindrik escorted me to our fire pile on the hill overlooking the lake. “Worked up an appetite bathing? Or slipping in the lake?” He asked in a bored drawl.
I could feel my face heat, so I turned away, pretending to admire the scenery. “I was asleep a long time, you know.”
“M-hmm.”
I gave Mindrik an exasperated sigh. “Look at him, Mindrik. Look at me. Do you really think that would work?”
I forced my face to remain still as Mindrik looked across the lake at the hulking Kraw, and then at me, still thin from my stint in captivity.
“You're right, he'd snap you like a twig,” Mindrik said, marching forward.
I bit my tongue so hard it hurt as I followed. And still a smile stole over my face as I tried desperately to steer my thoughts away from hysterical laughter.
We settled at the charred, damp circle of our fire from last night, making another large fire to cook the fish with. In the orange morning light, the landscape was much less creepy. The skeletal pines shrugging into their coats of smoke and fog almost seemed welcoming. All the forest needed was birdsong and it would be peaceful. But there were no birds.
I pulled my legs up and rested my head on my knees, letting my imagination travel back to last night. A stab of shame lanced through me at the memory of Lonnie. I was betrothed to him and I lay with another. But I knew now that Lonnie was not meant to be my lover. A friend, yes, a kind young man who would have always been gentle. But, I had a hard time imagining Lonnie drawing the sounds and feelings out of me as Dal did, playing me like a sensuous instrument.
I glanced across the lake at Dal, still as stone, three fish already laying limp on the spear. My heart beat faster just looking at him. Was I falling in love with a Kraw?
“Seraphine, are you alright?”
I lifted my head and looked at Mindrik. “Hmm?”
“You haven't stopped smiling for the past five minutes. You're all... flushed.” Mindrik was looking at me as if I were sick.
“Oh.” I tossed some pine needles into the fire, reminding myself to be less obvious about my world being turned over. “It has been long since I was free and fed. I thought I would die in that hut.” I glanced at Mindrik.
Mindrik frowned, tossing leaves into the fire. “Yes, I thought that as well.”
“What do you plan to do once we get to the capital, Mindrik?”
“Well, the elder council members had summoned me long before the Kraw invaded the academy, so I suppose I shall see what it is that they want.”
“Why did you not go when you were summoned?”
Mindrik regarded me for a moment. “When the elder council summons a member of the academy, it is considered rude to show up soon after.”
“Then why do they bother to summon anyone if answering the summons is rude?”
“Imagine some country bumpkin like yourself receives a summons. You eagerly pack your meager belongings and rush to the capital, wagging your tail at the slightest sniff of attention. This comes across as desperate, selfish, lacking confidence and self-worth. Now when I was summoned, I planned to show up in the highest style.” Mindrik straightened and raised his chin. “I would arrive within a few years simply because I happened to be at the capital for other, more important business. I would look down my nose at them and bestow them with my time only because I was feeling generous.”
My mouth dropped. “That's ghastly. Why would anyone want to display such rudeness?”
Mindrik gave a sigh. “My dear Seraphine, that is how matters of the elder council are played. They expect greatness and superiority. They accept this behavior because it simply goes without saying that they are eminence not to be trifled with. My rudeness would be a show of equal distinction, highest status if you will, without challenging their rule.”
I frowned, resting my head back on my knees. “I fail to see how anything gets done with so much time being wasted on such strutting and preening.”
“And that is precisely why humans are so easily conquered,” Dal said, setting a large stick of fish over the fire. I hadn't even heard him approach.
Mindrik bristled. “It is not preening, it's confidence and a display of superiority. Hard to imagine for a race of beasts who would rather live in decaying hovels, I can understand.”
“Enjoy your meal, human, you never know when it may be your last,” Dal said to Mindrik with the ghost of a smile playing at his lips.
I bit my lip as I glanced at Mindrik, who scowled.
Clearing my throat, I said, “Did you sleep alright, Mindrik?”
Mindrik waved a dismissive hand. “A few choppy lake splashes and beasts thrashing in the pine needles aren't enough to keep me up. If you will recall, life at the university has made me a champion sleeper.”
I cut Dal a quick glance, and his eyes met mine in a shared secret. I ducked my head, letting my hair curtain around my face as I poked a stick into the coals.
“Is there a history of flame red in your family?” Mindrik asked.
I shook my head. “No, I’m the only one. I was made fun of as a child.”
“Whatever for?”
“Well, I suppose I stood out. Children can be cruel, you know. They stopped when I was older.”
“I would imagine so...” Mindrik said.
I became lost in my own memories. “Lonnie, my betrothed, was the banker's son. His family handled negotiations for the wool that came and went from our town, along with other goods. They were wealthy; I suppose I was fortunate to have this strange coloring that landed his attention. Everything was so simple then.” All of that was ashes to me now, pale and weightless, burnt in the wake of my new reality.
“Did you have many suitors?” Mindrik asked.
“No. My sister was married before me; she had more suitors because she was shapelier. The second daughter isn't as coveted.” I smiled into the fire as my memory came to life.
“I remember on her wedding day how I was helping her with her hair, alone in the chapel's quarters while everyone talked outside. She was terrified of being married, because...” I glanced up at the two men, who were both watching me. “Well, what goes on behind closed doors is kept a mystery to young women. It's a little scary.” I cleared my throat, keenly aware of my own soreness at the moment.
“I remember setting her hair with flowers and ribbon. And even though fear of the unknown was there with us, there was also the concrete knowledge that tomorrow would come, and we’d be there with each other. No matter what we went through, we’d always have each other and life would always go on. Spring festivals, sneaking into the woods to share secrets, thrilling at traveling merchants, gossiping over fresh bread, and sneaking out at night to swim in the moonlight.”
Silence stretched for a time.
“Everyone I've ever known is dead, and I might die tomorrow,” I whispered.
Mindrik’s voice was firm. “That life was shattered because of his race,” he gestured to Dal, “you know that.”
I met Dal's gaze openly, my heart in my eyes. “I know,” I whispered.
“And yet you name him your guardian.”
“I am alive and unharmed this day thanks to him,” I said with a frown, rising to check the fish. Still soft. “Did you have many suitors?” I asked Mindrik.
Mindrik preened. “My dear woman I had to rebuff affections at every turn, and it was a hassle.”
I frowned at Mindrik and noticed Dal shifting his weight and shaking his head out of the corner of my eye.
“Well, don’t think me callous, I was always kind to them, but you must understand that the most gifted at the university are by no means a secret. We were somewhat of a sensation. And hopeful suitors flocked to us.” Mindrik frowned into the fire, a sadness in his eyes I had not seen before.
“I was not Mindrik to them, I was prized livestock, set to provide all of
the capital's fineries when I finished my education. There were times when I wished to be lesser, so that I could be seen for who I was and not what I was,” he said slowly.
“You know, if you go back to the capital, no one will know who you are until you announce it. You can be whoever you want to be, Mindrik. You still have that chance,” I said.
Mindrik raised his gaze from the fire and met mine. “You are no fool, Seraphine. But you are naïve when it comes to your own species.”
“I'm so glad we could work that out,” I said in a dry tone, reaching back to spend a moment braiding my hair.
Mindrik turned to Dal. “What of you, Kraw? What actions of yours put a traitor’s label on you?”
Dal contemplated Mindrik for a moment. “I stopped the killing of innocent humans.”
Mindrik furrowed his brow at Dal, assessing him. “So you are a traitor because you have compassion for the race your species wars against?”
“I had hoped that my actions would ripple understanding into the Kraw. They swallowed me up instead.”
“If Kraw are so intelligent then one would think they’d understand your intent. Why react with barbarism?” Mindrik asked.
Dal sighed. “Kraw warriors are trained to fill one purpose. Anything that threatens that purpose is eliminated. As chief, it was my job only to obey Patroma and the Warlord. My theories about Gifted being the true threat were an insolent deviation from my orders. Though, I have little doubt that they know the truth of my words now.”
“Then it sounds as if you should be promoted, not chastised.”
But Dal was no longer looking at Mindrik. He was gazing off into the distance from where we had originally come, and all of us fell into silence, looking as well. After a minute I turned to Dal, watching his eyes penetrate the distance, his nostrils take in scents I couldn't.
He stood then, drawing his sword. “Run.” Hazel eyes burned into mine. “Patroma comes.”
Chapter 10
Almost Us
Dal grabbed my arm and began to haul me away.
“The food, Dal! We may not find any more!” I pulled and scraped at Dal's hands, trying to grab the stick of fish.
