So much for sneaking out. I move back toward the stairs and call up to her. “Sorry about the racket, Ma.” She’s not my mother but when she took me in, her full name—Matron Marphel—somehow got shortened toMain my head. “Go back to sleep.”
“You’re going to market?”
“I told you I would. Since you weren’t feeling well last night, I had hoped you’d sleep in this morning. I’ll be back soon.”
“Very well.” She sounds so weak, I hesitate, suddenly worried about leaving her.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to make you some tea before I go?” I turn too quickly and knock a bundle of drydolaleaves to the floor. I hang the fallen bundle back up beside the others. We harvested thedolalast week, and they fill the cottage with their rich herbal scent, a cross between sage and oregano.
“No, child. I’m sure I’ll be up in no time. I can make my own tea.”
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t forget your cloak.”
“I won’t.” Going over to the rack, I stick my tongue out at my heavy cloak and grab it off the hook. It was too much to hope Ma would forget, and I could leave it behind. The morning air is cool and still, but once the suns rise, it will be hot, and I’ll be stuck sweating with my hood up.
“Remember, if you see any Alphas—”
“If I see any Alphas, I’ll keep my head down. I won’t look them in the eye. I won't talk to them,” I promise. Alphas never buy anything from our booth anyway.
“And did you take your medicine?”
“Of course,” I say before remembering that I forgot this morning. Oh well. I took it yesterday. And I'll take it before I get back. Taking a dose a few hours late won’t hurt.
“Good.” Ma’s weak voice sounds relieved. Guilt stabs me. She’s pathological about the weird potion she makes me drink every day. And about avoiding Alphas. “Remember, don't speak to the soldiers,” she repeats. “Stay away from them.”
Well, I was planning on slapping one on the ass, but now that you’ve reminded me twice, I won’t.I bite back my sarcasm. Ma is the closest thing I have to family on this alien planet and I stuff my New York City girl rudeness down for her.
Besides, people here don’t get sarcasm. Which is just fantastic. Sarcasm is my superpower.
On a whim, before heading back to the door, I grab a large, sheathed kitchen knife and fasten it to my belt. If Ma is so worried about Alphas, maybe I should be armed. Too bad she doesn’t have some alien form of Mace.
With a basket handle slung over each shoulder, I head off down the little pathway which will take me to the main road to the market, Ma’s warnings still ringing in my ears.
The suns are rising in the sky—yes, suns, plural—and it’s shaping up to be a hot day. A breeze darts and tugs at my skirts. It feels good, but as I get closer to the village, I pull my hood up over my braids.
At this rate, by the time I’m done at the market, I’ll be tempted to strip everything off and dunk myself in the nearby river. I’ve done it before, but only at night. Ma frowns on my skinny-dipping ventures. “It’s not safe,” she scolds. “There might be Alpha patrols nearby.”
She’s pathological about Alphas. But Ma knows best.
A few months ago, I woke up on a riverbank with absolutely no clue where I was—or even reallywhoI was. I know my name, my age, and occasionally I’ll have flashes of random memories, but otherwise, zilch. Even my memories don't feel like mine. Sometimes, when looking at my reflection in the river or water basin, I’ll flash back to looking in a mirror while a makeup artist painted eyeshadow in brilliant peacock shades onto my face for a fashion show. I’ll recall strutting down the catwalk wearing outrageous designs, but the impressions are faded. Like clips of a stranger’s home movie, glimpses of another life.
Ma was out gathering herbs when she found me. I was dressed in a flimsy nightshirt, dazed, scared out of my mind, and thirstier than I ever remember being. When I first saw her—a ridiculously tall, older-looking woman with papery mauve skin covered in royal blue markings, and dressed in a cloak—I thought I was hallucinating. But she was so kind. She gave me something cool and sweet to drink, wrapped me in her cloak, and took me back to her hut.
And that’s how I learned I was in the kingdom of Medela, on the planet Ulfaria. A different freakingplanet! We don’t know how I got here, or why. According to Ma, I’m lucky she found me, and not a troop of Alphas.
She’s never told me why she’s so paranoid about Alphas and my being near them. Most of the Alphas around these parts are soldier types on patrol, and I haven’t felt threatened by them. Sure, they’re huge, and they tend to grunt more than they talk, but other than that…
Society here on Ulfaria is basically divided into three main groups—Alphas, Betas, and Omegas. Alphas are bigger, stronger, and fertile as fuck, according to Ma (although she put it differently). They’re almost always male, and dominant, and used to getting what they want. All the kings of this planet are Alphas, and so are all of the soldiers and warriors. Betas make up the majority of the population, although I’m not sure if things always were that way, or if that’s just the case now because Omegas are rare to non-existent. In any case, Betas can do pretty much anything—aside from become king—but they can’t provide Alphas with offspring. Only Omegas can do that. Ma says Omegas are fertile as fuck, too—although again, she uses different language.
And then there’s me. A human. A stranger in a strange land.
Ahead on the path, a group of soldiers is standing guard. I have to walk past them to get into the village. I can tell they’re Alphas because they’re a head taller than everyone else—which is already a foot taller than I am.
I pull my hood tighter to hide my face, and fix my eyes on the ground. It’s time to get to work. The sooner I sell our goods, the sooner I can get back home to Ma.
TWO
