Authors: Marla Therron
It was easier to look at him now, her reflexive desire to punch his perfectly square jaw somewhat diminished.
“These are your rituals. Not mine. The most important ritual where I’m from is that you
ask
to get into the bath with me. You only come in if I allow you.”
His face hardened. “A prime does not ask. He wins. You are mine by victory.”
The good feelings evaporated and she stood from the pool, water running from her sleeves. The mud had been scraped from her blouse, dark colors disguising the stains. She would need a change of clothes eventually, and wasn’t looking forward to wearing wet clothes the rest of the day.
Garr followed her from the pool. His outfit rippled into that liquid form, shedding the water until it all dripped clear. After the otoya solidified again, his clothes were bone dry. He seemed to wait for hers to do the same.
Her teeth chattered.
It dawned on him that her outfit didn’t shed water that way. “You will wear mine.” He disrobed his jacket, offering it.
“I damn well won’t.” She pushed past him and strode away, water squelching from her wet shoes.
Chapter Five
The sun dried everything but Rae’s shoes and socks. Those she was stuck with for the rest of the day.
Vaya behaved skittishly, always looking off into the canopy or down the trails, perhaps alert because Lyr was alert. Rae hoped the arboreal squid-beast was finished with them—getting a dozen knives embedded in its body should ward off most predators, right?
Around midday, they were close to Kaython’s border but had to cross the “geyser jungle.” The terrain was a swampy territory filled with dingy trees bleached of all low-lying foliage, the squama bark made from dense, foreboding armor plates.
The ground was wet, with an orange lichen that seemed to thrive off the humid atmosphere, and all around them a thick mist reduced visibility. Periodically, jets of steam would explode from pores in the soft earth, filling the air with boiling water and hot vapor.
“How do we cross?” Rae could see no pathway that didn’t occasionally erupt. “For the record, humans are burned by steam. Not sure what it does to Ythirians.”
“About the same,” Vaya murmured.
“Lyr wants us to cross here,” Garr said. “She’ll provide a sign.”
They waited, until Vaya pointed out a swarm of insects that hovered in the distance. Their reflective azure shells twinkled through the jungle’s fog, as though beckoning them.
“You’re sure about this?” Rae did not want to argue about Lyr’s responsiveness, but the domé had certainly sent
her
some mixed signals before.
“Yes.” Garr confidently strode directly at the glinting swarm. Vaya prodded Rae forward, but when geysers burst into the air close by, she interposed herself. Soon, the giantess and Garr both walked together in front, where most of the eruptions occurred.
They arrived at one insect swarm and saw another floating off in the fog. They stepping-stoned through the geyser jungle that way, using the swarms as guide posts.
Partway through one of their hops, Rae first noticed Vaya and Garr had started walking side by side. There was no more rearguard, and their focus was on the geysers, the swarms, or one another. From their silent glances, they were communicating with each other and entirely distracted from what Rae was up to.
Desperate, she scanned her surroundings, utterly turned around in the swamp. Once she hit Kaython’s ground, though, she was sunk. If Lyr would send her home, she needed to do it now.
“Show me a way,” she mouthed silently behind Garr’s back. “Please let me go home.”
Off in the distance, Rae spotted a new swarm of insects, this one green. The lights twinkled from their constant, shifting movement.
Well,
Rae thought, summoning her courage.
Green does mean “go.”
***
Traversing the geyser jungle, Garr brooded on his human’s words regarding “love.” An aberrant concept, to suggest males might belong to females—or, worse, a prime might belong to anything other than his domé.
Did she not understand her arrogance? In implying Garr belonged to anyone but Kaython alone?
Something troubles you,
Vaya messaged through their microbial connection. They had not used it since Earth.
You seek to exclude my mate from this conversation?
It could be considered improper to hide a conversation with a subordinate from one’s mate—doubly so a female subordinate.
Don’t mean it that way, boss.
Of course she didn’t. Vaya was his trusted lieutenant. Perhaps the human’s words on “love” had him overly focused on propriety.
Speak.
I’ve got your back no matter what. But have you thought about how this will go over with the tribe?
They will follow their prime.
Sure. But you turned down Kaython’s last choice for your taliyar—Yahlalla was a 98 percent genetic amplifier. No prime’s been so strongly suited for a mate in twenty cycles. Turning down such a prestigious member of our tribe for an alien? One who we’re not even sure you can reproduce with? This will upset people; people like Yahlalla’s enormous brothers, for instance.
True, but Yahlalla had not suited him. She’d been beautiful in that typical Ythirian way—slender, elegant. But her attitude had been too fawning. She was a pliant creature, and eager to please, which made most males happy. Not so Garr.
There was more to a taliyar than genetic compatibility. He needed one who would teach his son or daughter by word and action, and not just through the gifts of blood.
The fire in Rae mattered more to him than any genetic amplifier. The only problem would be taming her and banking those flames to serve his own ends. Her strength made it difficult for her to see the superiority of Ythirian culture.
What are you thinking, Boss?
Do you trust me, Vaya?
As much as Kaython, sir.
He grinned at her blasphemy. If Kaython minded, she had not signaled any displeasure. Another reason his domé pleased him: she liked her people as fiery as Garr did. Probably why she’d nudged him toward Dr. Rae Ashburn.
I am not without my concerns,
he confessed.
She is confused about the role of a mating-class female—behaves more like a castoff—
Vaya winced. He regretted the slip. That word was a powerful slur, and he forgot at times that it technically fit Vaya’s situation. After all, had she not foresworn mating to take up arms and hunting?
Garr frowned, not wishing to soften the word with his subordinate. Softness would have come off as disrespectful—as him treating her differently from a male warrior.
He needed to, instead, demonstrate he respected her regardless of the slur.
Tell me your thoughts. Human “love.” Can it be reconciled to our ways?
Steam jetted from the ground in front of them, causing them both to pause. The task of avoiding geysers had become routine, their trust in Lyr increasing.
You cannot belong to her,
Vaya said.
This would be a great sin for any male, but the greatest of sins for the prime.
Of course I can’t belong to her,
Garr shot back.
Then there is no reconciliation. I’ve witnessed her human culture during my scouting trip to Earth. I don’t think a human female from her tribe would want to be a Ythirian’s mate.
Vaya glanced at Garr.
In truth, sir, it’s similar to why I chose to become a castoff.
That floored him. He knew she’d chosen it—had, in fact,
fought
for it. The word “castoff” implied a shame Vaya had never felt for her decisions. But she’d never actually told him the reason for those decisions.
He’d assumed she simply had no carnal desires—and ridiculous though that was, it had been a uniquely
Vaya
sort of ridiculousness.
You wish to possess a male?
He’d have laughed if it were at all funny.
Sort of? Not as a male possesses a female,
she insisted.
But to be possessed and to possess in turn, as the humans do? Maybe if the idea had occurred to me as a youngling, I’d not have sworn off mating so quickly. To be “claimed” in a challenge felt degrading; especially for one like me, who is not so easily beaten. It felt dishonest to submit when I was stronger than all my would-be suitors.
How is it more honest for a male to submit to a female?
Garr demanded.
I think to humans, it’s a type of play. Like wearing masks, which later they remove so that they can be equals again.
Blasphemy.
It is. But one of you will reconcile to the other, or neither will. There is no compromise between these two paths. It is either human love or Ythirian submission.
This observation took the wind from Garr’s lungs. He had no desire to crush Dr. Rae Ashburn’s desires, but nor did he plan on introducing to his people this outrageous, human taboo of mutual submission to one another.
Sir?
I’m thinking.
Sir! Your mate. She’s gone!
Garr wheeled and glanced behind them, where he’d sensed Rae moments ago. She had vanished.
***
Rae charged through the swamp with geysers erupting to her left and right. A jet burst from the ground directly in her path, spattering her in scalding droplets and filling her vision with vapor, hiding the insect swarm she’d been chasing. She felt brief terror, wondering if she’d misread Lyr’s signals.
The steam cleared before she reached it, though, and ahead was that same twinkling. She reached them and let out a whoop.
Then Vaya broke through a spraying geyser at her flank. She skidded to a stop and snatched Rae’s shoulder in one hand. “Got you, you slippery runt!”
“Let me
go
!”
“Where are you even going?” The giantess wheeled, searching for Garr. They must have split up.
“Home.”
Vaya narrowed her eyes. “You have a way back, don’t you?”
Rae firmed her jaw. She had no desire to answer.
But Vaya was always quick on the uptake. “You’ve got a side deal going with Lyr.” Under her breath: “Can’t believe we trusted her.” Shaking her head, she appraised Rae more carefully.
“Please just let me go,” Rae whimpered. “You know I’m not right for this world.”
Vaya nibbled her lower lip, glancing back through the fog for Garr. “Not mine to decide. It’s my prime’s.” She released Rae’s arm.
“But don’t you dare even think about running again. Your legs are short, you’re slow, and this place might just kill you for the effort.”
Rubbing her freed arm, Rae brooded quietly.
Just then, a geyser just six feet away exploded, jettisoning so much steam and scalding water that Rae couldn’t see a thing. However, it had been closer to Vaya than her, and she heard the giantess curse in Ythirian.
With the air so foggy, Rae realized it was an invitation from Lyr to flee. She took off again, spotting another reflective swarm ahead.
They proved to be the edge of the geyser jungle, and before long there were green plants on all sides of her.
She’d have cheered, except that the forest abruptly opened into a clearing—one wreathed entirely in those razor vines, so that she was penned in. More vines descended behind her, and Rae began to wonder precisely
what
Lyr was planning. Rae was effectively imprisoned in that circular patch of open terrain.
Then she heard it—the crunching from the canopy above her.
It was that
thing,
the tentacle beast from the treetops back for her again. It had followed them.
And that had been her role for Lyr all along, Rae realized. She was bait.
Chapter Six
Garr tore through the jungle, headed straight for Vaya’s shouts. She struggled through a vapor cloud, shielding her eyes and gesticulating with two hands toward the edge of the jungle. “That way! I—I think.”
Geysers cut him off. He snarled and wrapped his limbs in otoya, leaping through the steam and ignoring the searing pain that still assaulted his skin underneath.
The fabric absorbed the brunt of the heat, fibers converting thermal energy and storing it, so that he burst out the other side crackling with spare electrical discharge. It made his fine hairs go on end.
Vaya had sent him out of the forest only slightly off course, but he could scent his mate and the terror coming from her pores. He made for the dense canopy, prepared to use an otoya blade to slice down the razor vines that blocked his path.
***
That treetop monster dropped from the canopy and into the clearing. It hit the ground with an almost wet thud. Rae still had no sense for its shape, since it was the same color and texture as the squama plates and foliage of the Skorvag.
However, as it rose over her, its flesh turned inky and smooth; most of the creature was powerful tentacles the width of tree trunks at their roots, but at the epicenter of those horrific, wriggling appendages was a center mass that was mostly teeth. It split nearly in half with the width of its jaws, and it had a half dozen more tentacles wriggling inside its pink mouth.
Most disturbing, those tongues were each tipped in a separate and torturous instrument—corkscrews, pincers, rippers, and tiny clawed fingers.
The beast slicked forward on pseudopods made of muscular fibers, its precise shape still hard to make out because every part of it was in constant motion. It made a clicking, squealing sound like a dolphin.
Rae backed from the horror, heart pounding in the back of her throat.
It lunged, two of its tentacles lancing for her like straight, inky slashes—each tentacle spiked in a wicked talon intent on skewering her.
Just before they landed, something seized her, carrying her abruptly through the air.
***
His mate under attack, Garr swept in and picked her up in both arms. Her slow human nervous system wasn’t fast enough to react to the beast, and so he released her at the clearing’s edge, spinning to face the monster.
Another tentacle speared for him: the creature used the same method of attack as the underwater decabeast, except faster.
Yet Garr was faster still. He twisted just far enough to the side that the tentacle shot past him, leaving only a thin, searing cut to his ribs instead of running him through. He brought his blade around, and before the creature could retract its limb, he hacked it off.
Violet ribbons of blood filled the air and the scent of it drove him wild.
His heart a burning coal, his blood liquid fire, Garr charged, slicing off a second tentacle before it even reached him.
The beast cracked a third appendage through the air like a whip, taking him by surprise—decabeasts never tried those attacks, since they were too slow underwater. But in the air? It came on lightning quick, and was so unexpected it smashed him in the ribs and tossed him like a rag doll.
***
Rae could barely keep track of Garr; he moved like a wild beast. His roar was blood curdling, the swipe of his metallic weapons too swift to fathom. He left a trail of blood and severed viscera in his wake.
The creature’s retaliatory swipe tossed him onto the ground, but he rolled with it.
He never stopped moving. The beast, by comparison, was ungainly—its main form of locomotion on the ground was to slam a tentacle’s spike into the earth and drag itself along in a swift, zig-zagging pattern. But Garr worked through those tendrils and flicked them off the creature one at a time.
Its animal screams went up an octave, wailing like a siren as Garr ripped it to shreds in front of her.
It managed to grip his sword in one of its tongue pincers, but Garr brutally seized the tongue and ripped it from the creature’s mouth, rending its flesh with strength Rae hadn’t thought possible.
Then he drove its center mass through with two otoya swords, lifting it bodily into the air. The animal strength in his back and shoulders was on display as he ripped it cleanly in two, sending a torrent of violet blood through the clearing.
And through the bestial display, he roared in triumph.
It fell dead and he hacked at it anyway, seeming to fight not until it was dead, but until he was satisfied.
***
The beast had attacked his mate—a prime’s mate—and Garr did not stop hacking at it until no single piece resembled the original creature it had been.
To threaten a prime’s mate was the most grievous of sins, and if he’d have suspected Lyr were at all involved, he might have started striking out at her as well.
Instead, glancing to Rae, he confirmed she was still unharmed.
Unharmed, but there was something in her eyes. A wide-eyed terror that he recognized as the fear prey had for its natural predator. She wasn’t looking at the monster, either, but rather him.
Unsure what to do, Garr approached her. “You are safe now,” he said, realizing he literally dripped with the blood of the thing he’d just killed.
Aghast, she only managed a weak and petrified nod. She didn’t believe she was safe at all. In watching him move, in watching him not just hunt but rage against this sacrilegious, woman-attacking beast, he had filled her with dread.
In that moment, Garr did not feel like he should have—he did not feel like her protector.