by S. A. Ravel
Audrey mumbled an apology as she grabbed a fistful of Haj'erel's fur and used it to climb onto his back. The pain was nothing compared to the relief he felt. His aijan hadn't run screaming from him. She hadn't sought a weapon or decided the human raiders were her allies against him instead of her enemies.
He knew not what tale she told herself to reconcile what she had seen. All he knew was she had not turned away from him and she had come when he asked. That was enough.
Haj galloped to the far edge of the lot. Audrey squeezed her thighs tightly against his sides. Her desperate fingers tangled in his fur and clung as if her very life depended on maintaining her grip.
If only she knew he meant his earlier words. He would die before he let any harm come to her. But he would prefer not to put his resolution to the test. The humans inside the steel predator were no doubt armed. With one eye and an aijan to protect, Haj'erel couldn't hope to best them. Their only choice was to run, no matter how bad a taste it left in his mouth.
Haj circled back toward the front of the lot and ran again. This time, as he approached the center he took to the air.
Audrey squealed with mingled fear and delight. She flung her body forward, wrapping her arms around Haj’erel’s thick neck and holding on as if her life depended on it. For an instant her floral scent filled his scenes, obliterating thoughts of anything but her from his mind. In the next second, a rush of bitter wind rushed through his nostrils. To his regret, as it warmed on the path to his lungs, her scent faded.
But the flight was a temporary solution. His aijan had a slight frame even by human standards, but Tarandian warriors rarely carried comrades on their backs in quadrupedal form. The effort to balance her extra weight, combined with the strain of listening for her sounds to ensure she was all right, pushed Haj’erel’s depleted energy reserves to their limits.
Only until sunrise, he told himself. Then I will land and we will separate as we should have before.
By all logic, he should have left her behind. Those that followed were predators, but they were also Audrey’s people. Her life and death were human matters. They were of no concern to him. But faced with the choice of leaving her behind, hiding with her, or telling her the truth, Haj’erel would make the same choice every time. The secret wasn’t worth her life.
Who would she tell? Her herd was gone. The one based in Jericho Town would assume too many moons in solitude had spoiled her mind.
Humans had a strange way of ignoring whatever they did not wish to see. Even his aijan was guilty.
I still cannot keep her. The thought made Haj’erel’s stomachs clench in pain. No matter how much he grew to care for Audrey, no matter how much he loved her spirit, the goddess had frowned on their union.
Haj’erel searched for a place to land. He found it in an area of massive, rolling hills. Between them ran a small stream dotted on either side by leafless trees. Haj’erel landed in the densest section of trees, kneeling as his paws touched the snow.
Audrey slid from his back. He was pleased she did not scramble away in fear the way she had in her den. Rather she turned to look at him slowly. With small, hesitant steps she walked toward him.
“I knew I wasn’t imagining things….” She reached out with trembling fingers toward Haj’erel’s fur but stopped centimeters short. “Change back.”
He dipped his head to signal he’d heard her and called forth his disguise. Muscle and bone snapped back into place easily. When his mouth resembled a human male’s again, he climbed to his feet and smiled. Though they had escaped the predators, a powerful sense of dread filled him. Her eyes blazed with an emotion wholly unlike the desire he’d seen in the depot.
“We may have escaped those predators but there may be others. To delay is unwise.”
Audrey lowered her chin, glaring at him with flaming eyes. “Nice try. Start talking.”
“The more I tell you, the more danger you will be in,” he said.
“Fine, then take me home.” She shrugged her shoulders and folded her arms across her chest. “If you can’t be honest with me, then I’m not going anywhere else with you.”
Goddess save me. “No.”
Her eyes widened in surprise then narrowed in suspicion. “What the hell do you mean ‘no’?”
“Your vehicle is disabled. By now the predators have taken it apart.” Haj’erel walked toward her. He made his voice fierce and his words dire, but he could see by the lack of change in her expression that Audrey was not swayed. “You have no way to secure supplies to sustain yourself,” he pressed. “No friend or tribe to call for aid when the longest darkness of winter comes. Audrey, sweet Audrey, you cannot go back to that.”
She tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brow. “Don’t you patronize me! I was doing just fine before you killed my battery. My...battery! Damn it, I forgot to grab one!”
Audrey’s shoulders slumped. She raised a hand to cover her eyes and lowered her head, releasing a heavy sigh. Silence descended around them, punctuated by the gentle rippling of the stream beside them. Then Audrey sniffled gently.
“The whole trip was a waste,” Audrey said, her voice thick with emotion.
“If you let me take you to the colony, it will have been worthwhile.” Unable to stop himself. “I beg you, do not ask me to take you back to your death.”
The plea fell from Haj’erel’s lips before he could stop it. Audrey seemed stunned. Her expression shifted quickly from shock to horror to pain, finally settling on quiet anger. He felt each shift in her emotions as if they were happening to him.
"I'm not asking you to do anything except tell me the truth," she snapped. "Except to tell me the truth for once. What are you? Why...why am I not afraid of you?”
The confusion in Audrey’s voice called to Haj’erel. It begged him to soothe it away. He stepped toward her slowly, knowing at any instant the fear she searched for might overtake her and he would lose her forever.
When his fingers brushed her cheek, Audrey did not move. Her teary gaze fixed on his remaining eye, searching for the reassurance she so desperately needed. Haj’erel would have given all his meager possessions on Tarandus and signed away all the years of his life in servitude if it would tell him how to give her what she wanted.
All she wants is the truth.
“My home is far from here. The planet is unknown to your people, or was last I knew. My people call it Tarandus. My proper name is Haj’erel of Hidren Thule.”
“And you aren’t human?” Audrey swallowed. Dread crept into her eyes as she searched his eye.
His aijan already knew the answer. A female clever enough to survive on her own for years would not ignore the evidence in front of her face. But she wanted to hear the words from his lips.
He opened his mouth to answer her. A twig snapped in the distance, well inside the range of Haj’erel’s hearing. It was too heavy to be an animal. He raised his nose and inhaled. Fermented grain, oil, and the stench of human fear followed the wind. Haj’erel knew those scents...and they struck a chord of fear in him unlike any he’d ever known.
Training and fear warred for control of Haj’erel’s mind. He had to shift and fly again, but his muscles would not obey him.
“Do not move,” Haj’erel whispered.
Time slowed around Haj’erel. A weapon clicked to life in the distance. He reached for Audrey. The weapon fired. Audey’s shoulder erupted in a mass of flesh and blood. Her beautiful face, full of desperation one second, contorted in pain the next.
Haj’s hands snapped out and caught Audrey as her knees buckled. He crouched low to the ground, positioning his body between the human predators and her. A shot from the unseen weapon flew over them. If he had reacted any slower, the bullets would have torn through his head instead of empty air.
“You can’t hide forever, you freak!” a human male shouted. The soft crunch of snow and scent of disturbed earth wafted on the wind. Leaves and twigs crunched, trampled in the predator’s rush to get closer to their
prey. Closer to his wounded aijan.
Goddess wept! They’d flown too close to the ground on a clear night. He hadn’t flown far enough before landing. Humans were curious by nature but they feared the unknown. And what they feared, they raged against. Violently.
Fresh warrior recruits knew better. But neither they nor Haj’erel had trained to carry their frightened human mate on their back.
Protect her! With two healthy eyes, the predators would have been no match for Haj’erel. His people carried the speed and strength of the goddess as gifts. And if they bested him, well then he would have finally earned a death befitting a Tarandian warrior.
But the smell of Audrey’s blood in his nostrils overrode Haj’erel’s will to fight. If he fell, she would be left to their mercy.
He could not fight and survive. He could not leave them to decide Audrey’s fate. His only choice was to run. Farther this time.
“Climb on my back,” Haj’erel whispered. “Quickly!” Reluctantly, he released her, moving to his hands and knees.
Audrey scrambled onto his expanding back, groaning in pain. Her fingers sank into Haj’erel’s emerging fur and gripped weakly.
“I don’t want to die,” she whispered, a silent prayer to the universe or whatever deities she believed in.
You will not. Haj’erel lurched to his feet, bracing his hooves against the frozen earth. He ran toward the stream at a gallop, taking to the air for a brief moment to leap across the bank in a single bound.
When his hooves touched the earth on the other side, Haj’erel ran. He zoomed between trees. His legs pumped as fast as he could make them. Whether the predators crossed the river on foot or retreated to their vehicle, it would take them time to traverse the bank. Haj’erel meant to use every moment to his advantage.
Audrey’s hot blood trickled over Haj’erel’s suit. He pressed on. Her moans of pain grew more frantic. And he pressed on. He ran until his muscles burned and the bones of his spine ached. Then he took to the air.
He had only one destination. There was only one place on the planet he could take his mate if they were under attack. He turned his path north, bearing toward the abandoned Hidren Thule base.
The second his hooves touched down beside the base, Haj’erel released his quadrupedal form. Audrey slid from his back, landing in the snow with a soft whimper. Haj’erel pulled her into his lap, cradling her against his body. He brushed the wisps of stray brown hair away from her sweat-drenched face.
The color had drained from her face on the journey. Whether because of the cold, the thin air, or the blood loss, he could not say. He was not a healer. Where once her pink cheeks had dominated her face, now there was barely any color at all. Her eyelids fluttered, opening in tiny slits that revealed the whites of her eyes.
For the second time, fear gripped Haj’erel at the entrance to the base. But this time, it was not fear for himself. The human female in his arms grew weaker by the moment. She had survived so many things on this cursed planet. Now, they had all risen against her at once, leaving her broken.
Audrey needed the Joyful Mother’s mercy. Her people’s goddesses had none to spare.
I cannot keep her, but I will not watch her die. It was too late for the colony. Far too late to take her back to her den.
“Aijan, can you hear me?” He caressed her cool cheek with his fingers, gently coaxing her awake. Let her hear me.
Audrey’s eyelids stilled. They cracked open a few more centimeters, but remained heavy as her hazy gaze settled on his face.
“So cold….”
He pulled her closer, draping his body over hers. “I need you to think of your happiest memory.”
“My...what?” Her head lolled to the side, landing against his chest. Her breath moved over his skin in weak bursts.
“I can make you warm, Audrey, but only if you think about your happiest memory.” There was so much she didn’t understand about Haj’erel. So many parts of himself he’d kept hidden. It seemed like a necessity. He’d thought the lie would protect both of them. What a fool he’d been! “Have you found it?”
Audrey nodded. Haj’erel turned her face toward his. Even with the blue overtaking the pink, she was beautiful to him. The weight of her body in his arms brought him comfort. The first peace he’d felt since he woke.
No, longer than that.
He leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against hers. Gently, he coaxed her lips open with his tongue until her lips parted with a sweet sigh. Within seconds, her chir began to flow. A wave of pleasure crested through Haj’erel as it spilled over his tongue. Audrey moaned softly into the kiss, parting her lips for him.
The nectar had a richness to it, a sign of old and treasured memories. Yet it carried the same bitter notes as before. He understood better now why the taste was there.
Her sour chir was wrong. The chill on her skin was wrong. All of it only made him more desperate to see his plan through.
Balancing Audrey in his arms, Haj’erel climbed to his feet and stepped through the open door. The entrance had remained exposed to the elements since Haj’erel’s departure. A pile of dead leaves had gathered in the corners, adding the stench of rotting biomaterial to the stale air.
Haj’erel carried her to the portal room, setting her gently on the floor beside it. He allowed himself a second to watch her sleeping face, only enough time to make sure she still breathed. Then he tore himself away and ran to the generator, gathering Audrey’s chir in his hand as he went.
Joyful chir was the most potent. Its warm golden hue hinted at its value. The chir he took from Audrey was pale gold, streaked with deep blue. If he could have stayed with her for a lifetime, Haj’erel would have gladly devoted his days to enriching the color of Audrey’s chir.
The generator sputtered to life. Without the donated energy, Haj’erel’s body sagged, his muscles overtaxed from the demands of the day. But he wasn’t done yet. Haj’erel stumbled back from the generator and ran back to Audrey. The console blinked, ready for input. He pressed his hand against it. The portal roared to life in a rush of glimmering gold. It bathed Audrey in warm light, giving the illusion that the color had returned to her face.
Haj’erel released his human disguise, letting the velvety fur cover his skin once more. He scooped Audrey into his arms, pressing a kiss to her lips.
He didn’t know when he would be allowed to touch her again. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through.
Time slowed around him. His body stretched. White light blinded him. Dull, burning pain crawled over his skin as he was transported across the fabric of the universe.
Then the light and pain disappeared. Haj’erel fell to his knees, still cradling Audrey to his chest. Hulking, black-furred Tarandian warriors in brown armor. They brandished weapons at him, each primed to blast him with a concentrated dose of black chir if he moved against them.
The concentrated anguish of black chir would bring the strongest Tarandian warrior to their knees. Haj’erel did them the favor of sinking to his knees on his own. They couldn’t hold him upright anymore. What he had left of the chir Audrey had given him didn’t cover what he’d spent.
“Where did you come from?” one warrior demanded. “Name your Hidren.”
“I am Haj’erel of Hidren Thule.” He fell forward, using his body to shield Audrey from them.
“That warrior was lost a harvest ago,” the other warrior said. Kneeling beside them, he grabbed Haj’erel’s shoulder and rolled him away from Audrey. “Either you are a dead man come back to life…or a liar.”
Haj’erel didn’t look at him. What did he care if they thought him dead? As long as Audrey lived. The darkness was going and he had not the strength to fight it anymore.
He focused his gaze on her face. If these were his final moments, he wanted that face to be the last he saw.
“Do whatever you want with me,” he said, feeling the language of his people fully on his tongue. “Just save my mate.”
9
Audrey
After Haj kissed her, Audrey lost all sense of time. There was something about the feel of his lips against her she couldn’t get enough of. And when he pulled away, Audrey almost begged him to come back. But then he picked her up and pain unlike any she had ever known exploded through her arm.
She couldn’t speak. The pain came in waves, and every time Audrey fought her way to the surface, another slammed into her head. She lay there waiting for…whatever was waiting on the other side.
The other side never came. Things changed around Audrey in ways she couldn’t understand beneath the waves. She couldn’t understand their guttural honking, but the anger came through loud and clear. Haj’s voice answered them, but she couldn’t understand him either.
Not until he leaned near her uninjured shoulder and pressed a gentle kiss to her ear.
“You will survive this, Audrey,” he whispered. “You are safe.”
She so badly wanted to believe that. But living on Earth in the after had taught her better. There was no such thing as safe anymore. Not really. There were only the hard hours and the desperate empty ones in between. Audrey would only know which trapped her now if she opened her eyes, but that meant fighting back to the surface through the hammering waves of pain. No, thank you.
The room changed around Audrey again. Fresh dirt and grass wafted under her nose. Wet warmth surrounded her, as if they had placed her in a deep soaking tub. Whoever they were. Someone slipped a mask over her nose just before her face slipped beneath the water. The gooey liquid was nothing like the jagged waves of pain. It surrounded Audrey, covering her in a calming aura that soothed the sharp pain in her shoulder to a dull ache.
It was the best bath she’d ever had. It was almost as good as being in Haj’s arms. No, nothing she’d felt in years had been as good as that. Until a pack of raiders ruined the whole thing.
It was only a matter of time. At least I had a good run. And I wasn’t alone.
Little by little, the ache in Audrey’s shoulder disappeared. Her muscles, tense from holding the limb in the least painful position possible, relaxed. She slept.
