Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I hesitate, not understanding their reactions. Why does Mardok get angry to hear we lived in caves? Is that bad? The caves were nice and cozy, and it was easy to get outside. The gorge is quiet and sheltered from the worst of the weather, but taking Chahm-pee out on a regular basis is difficult, and the hunters must do a great deal of hauling to bring things down into the village. The humans love it, though. I am puzzled by their reactions, but I continue slowly. “We moved to the gorge when a great earth-shake destroyed our home.”
Mardok shoots Trakan an angry look, and Trakan just slides lower in his seat. “Your home is fine, Farli,” Mardok tells me. “You and your people are incredibly resilient to be able to make a life here on this planet.”
Resilient? It is my home. It is the only place I know.
“Well, someone want to tell me how I’m supposed to pilot the Lady down into that gorge? Because it’s not happening.”
“We’ll get out and walk,” Cap-tan says. “Set the ship down as close to the lip as possible. Everyone suit up and let us be on our way.”
A short time later, the others are wearing thick suits that cover every inch of their skin, their bodies made bulky. Each one clips a device to their noses and wraps garments around their heads and horns to keep them warm.
I stand there in my leather tunic, a little amused at how much work it takes for them to bundle up. Not even the humans are this bad. Chahm-pee nudges my hand, eager to go outside. I do not blame him—he is hungry and did not care for the food on the ship. I did not, either. He has eaten all the roots in my bag, but I do have more back at the village. If nothing else, I can pry a few from Stay-see, who keeps a well-stocked hut full of extra foods for her strange cooking projects. “Soon,” I tell him. “Be patient.”
He bleats at me.
I look over at Mardok, still handsome despite his strange cold-weather leathers. He finishes buckling on his gloves and glances up at me. Our eyes meet, and my khui begins to sing, and his ears darken with a hint of embarrassment, his focus suddenly going back to his buckles. I find it charming. He is so like—and yet so different—from the males in my tribe. He looks up at me again, and the heated look he sends my way makes my pulse flutter.
Not so different from any other male in resonance, after all. Wait until you get a khui, I think. Then you will know. This? This is nothing.
They are finally ready, and the wall of the ship opens up, letting in a blast of refreshing, crisp air. I suck in a deep breath, pleased. It feels as if I have been trapped in the steamy, heated fruit cave for far too long, and the chill feels bracing. I nudge Chahm-pee to follow me and head down the ramp. The others trail behind me, and I scan the horizon.
The herds that wander near the upper valley are nowhere to be found, of course. The roar of the ship will have chased them far away. It is utterly still, and after being on the ship, it seems almost too quiet.
“What the kef is that?” Mardok snarls, and I look around, pulling out my bone knife. The others will be slow moving in their strange leathers, so I must protect them like any good hunter.
But I see nothing—no scythe-beak, no snow-cat, no sky-claw, no metlak. I turn back to him, a question in my voice. It dies when I realize he is not looking around him, but staring hard at Trakan and Cap-tan.
“Look,” Trakan says, patting something belted at his hip. “Just a little precaution, that’s all. We don’t know that they’re friendlies.”
“They are mesakkah, just like us.”
“And wars have been fought by mesakkah against other mesakkah. Just having blue skin doesn’t make you a pal. You should know that.”
Curious, I watch as Mardok’s face grows cold. His expression is so awful and bleak that my heart hurts for him. What has happened? But he speaks again. “You’re not shooting anyone. This is a friendly visit.”
“And it’s wise to be prepared,” Cap-tan says, and gestures at me. “Even she is armed.”
Mardok looks over at me again, his gaze on my knife. His eyes are slits, and I cannot tell what he is thinking, but it is clear to me that he is not happy. He glares at the others in his party and then moves to my side, protectively. “Lead on, Farli.”
“Is all well?” I whisper to him.
“All is well,” he tells me, and there’s grim determination in his voice. “No one will ever harm you while I am breathing.”