Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Pacy makes a high-pitched baby shriek, his little tail flicking back and forth on the furs he’s seated on. Pashov looks back, a grin lighting his face. “He is full of energy.”
“He is,” I agree, a smile coming to my face. Even if he doesn’t remember Pacy, it’s clear that he has affection for him. “That’s all sa-khui. His human half would have run out of energy hours ago.” Even now I’m feeling drained and sleepy.
“Are you tired? Do you wish to rest?” Pashov puts aside the awl and leather thong he’s double-stitching the privacy screen with. “I can watch the kit if you need to sleep.”
“I’m all right,” I tell him. I probably wouldn’t be able to sleep anyhow. I’d just lie in the furs and stew about how things got so wrong between us.
He watches me for a moment longer, then turns back to the screen and begins to stitch again. I watch his muscles move as he works, and my heart aches with fierce longing. Even if he doesn’t remember our relationship, he is a good man.
Maybe…maybe I can fix this.
Pacy digs in the basket, making a frustrated noise. I reach over and absently pull out the bone he’s tugging on, which is too big for him to pull out. It’s a pelvic bone, flat and wide, and reminds me a bit of a plate. I lost all of my cooking gear in the big cave-in, and I miss it. If I had it here, maybe I’d cook something for Pashov, to jog his memory…
I pause, then dig another bone out of the basket. This one’s a femur of some kind, but it looks a bit like a ladle. It’s like the universe is giving me a sign.
Maybe I should cook for my mate. What’s stopping me? I have time, now that we’re stopping in the cave for the next few days. And I love to cook. Some people sew to soothe their nerves, or whittle, or even work on hides. I cook. I started cooking for the tribe when we first landed, because I couldn’t stomach all the raw meat that was being passed around. Some of the other girls were too terrified to protest that they didn’t enjoy the sa-khui food, so I took it upon myself to figure out how to fix things that were more palatable to humans. The sa-khui are happy to have a diet mostly of meat, but we humans get sick of that easily. We’ve found some plants that are edible, and one plant in particular that is almost like a potato. I’ve used that dang not-potato for a ton of dishes, and while they’re not quite what we had on earth, everyone loves to try them out. I’ve gotten really good at potato cakes, stews, and I’ve even made a chalky sort of cake out of the not-potato and a variety of seeds. It’s been kind of a fun adventure to test out my skills and see what I could make with what the wintry planet provides, and it makes me happy to cook for others and see their faces light up when they get a little taste of home.
I haven’t cooked for anyone since the cave-in. I move my fingers over the smooth surface of the pelvic bone, thinking. I could make myself a few dishes with these bones. They wouldn’t be perfect, but nothing ever is. And I can dig through the supplies of dried food we have and see what I can make without being wasteful. I could make some food for Pashov. My mate has always been a hungry one, and he’s the only sa-khui that eats most of my dishes with enthusiasm. Everyone else takes a polite bite or two, but Pashov eats anything and everything.
Well, everything except the hraku cake. It’s made from the toffee-like seeds of the hraku plant and mixed with not-potato and more or less fried in the skillet and frosted. It’s more like a donut than a cake, and very sweet. The sa-khui don’t like sweet, and the one time I got Pashov to eat it, he made such a face…
I smile to myself at the thought. I could make it again if there’s hraku stored somewhere. See if he makes the same face now as he did when he was himself.
Maybe the memory of it will jog his brain. Maybe if I cook for him, that will help him remember.
For the first time in days, I’m excited and filled with hope.
PASHOV
Stay-see seems…happy.
My insides are filled with warmth as I watch her by the fire, picking through the basket of bones and humming a little song to herself. Pacy bangs two leg bones together, and she smiles at him. Her smile fills my chest with such aching and longing. Did she smile like that for me? Did she look at me like she does our kit—full of love and gentleness? I want her to look at me like that.