“Forgive me, little baby,” I mutter. “I don’t mean to bring down a bad fate on you. But I saw no other option. It is better that they should believe you out of the world.”
The smell of sap and blood still clings to me when I step over the barricade. I see her and Dorie by the fire. Both are alive and whole.
The sight makes the sour feeling of the encounter vanish like a wisp of smoke. And I remember how Dorie’s lips felt when they stroked across mine.
9
–Theodora–
When I wake up, Kenz’ox is gone. Well, he said he was going hunting at dawn, so that makes sense. Aker’iz is still here, sleeping quietly in her bundle of leather. The ambient light is still yellow, and the walls hum quietly. It’s almost as if the saucer reacts to her specifically, not to me or Kenz’ox.
I lie there for a moment, staring at the alien ceiling. I keep having dreams about the saucer’s technology. They’re stressful dreams tinged with fear—what if I can’t make the saucer work? What if Dex never returns? What if I never find Callie? At the same time, the dreams always end with me making a small change in a console and the saucer coming alive around me.
I don’t know how that could happen. The crystal shapes are still alien to me. But at least now, they’re familiar. They change when I touch them—one part may go less transparent, the color of another may change from green to cyan, one shape may shift from square to oval, or there’s a change that I perceive but can’t pinpoint.
I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’m sure there must be a system. Is it like a Rubik’s cube, where I need to get the colors and shapes to align somehow? Or just the colors? Or just the shapes? Or neither? There are literally a billion possibilities for what might work. Of course, it might just be broken, and nothing I do will make any difference. But I don’t want to pursue that thought.
I get up and notice that Kenz’ox has prepared a breakfast of cold cuts along with fruit slices. He’s surprisingly civilized in some ways.
Otis comes trotting in and casually curls his tail around my leg as I sit down to eat.
“Hey,” I greet him. “Where have you been? Trying to avoid that caveman?”
He tightens his tail until it nearly hurts.
“Okay, sorry,” I try to soothe his male ego. “You’re definitely not afraid of him. Didn’t mean to suggest that. You’re very fierce, and I’m sure you could take him in a fight.”
I believe no such thing, of course. Kenz’ox’s sword is quite impressive. And so is the rest of him.
“I don’t know,” I mutter as I reach down to scratch Otis’s head. “That kiss… I should not have done that. It was just too tempting. We’d just survived that attack, and the fear became something else. So freaking intense… I thought the beard would tickle, but… it’s just warm. Yeah, you don’t know what I’m talking about. Never mind.”
Otis gives me a glance and saunters away toward the beach.
“Look out for tentacles,” I call after him. “Stay away from the ocean if you can. I don’t think we’ll be making a raft after all.”
I finish up and check on Aker’iz. She’s busy crawling out of her sheets, whimpering with frustration.
I help her out of her bundle and carry her outside. “We’ll have to wait for your dad before we do much else. At some point, you have to ask him to build you a playpen or something. Because you’re getting a little too good at the crawling thing—oh.”
There’s movement in the woods, and I quickly grab Callie’s spear, the only one left with an iron head.
Kenz’ox steps into the little clearing, carrying a well-filled sack. “Good morning.”
I lower the spear. “Good hunt?”
He dumps the sack on the ground and stretches. “Not the best, not the worst. We will live for another day.”
I get the feeling that’s some kind of caveman saying. “Your baby is crawling.”
He picks Aker’iz up, and she squeals and coos happily. “What? Are you crawling, little baby? Do you think you are aspront?” He lifts the girl above his head on straight arms, making her squeal with glee.
I turn away and busy myself with the skins being cured. This is becoming more of a scene of domestic bliss than I’m comfortable with. I don’t want Kenz’ox to think that we’re a little family now.
The skins are soon ready to be used. And the first thing I’ll make is shoes. I’m done being barefoot in this damn jungle, having my bare toes exposed to the mysterious undergrowth and feelingsomething living stroke my ankles every time I venture into the woods. I’ll make some dinosaur-skin moon boots if it’s the last thing I do.
The mug I made has dried out, so I fire up the little pottery kiln and put it inside. I should have made two, because about half of the pots we fire crack in the process. But I don’t have the clay right now.
Kenz’ox and Aker’iz are going through their routine. He changes the baby’s wrapping, feeds her, and takes her for a guided tour of the clearing.
