Текст книги "Surviving Skarr"

Автор книги: Ruby Dixon

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Chapter Twelve

VIVI

There’s a lot going on with the newcomers arriving at camp. Flor seems a little worried about what they talk about, and it’s decided that we’ll all head out in the morning. Some of the women are packing stuff up, the men have caught fresh meat for us to cook, and I’rec and his mate seem to be busy, so I take it upon myself to tend to the fire. If I sit near it and keep it going, it’s an important task, and it lets me hover near the others without calling attention to myself.

I remain there even as people come and go. Jason gathers fuel from around the canyon and empties his bag of dung chips near me, which is handy. I use a long, sharpened bone to prod at the coals, and listen to Gabriella explaining the plot of Blade Runner to someone for what feels like the eleventh time that day.

A shadow falls over me and I automatically glance up, only to cringe when I see it’s Skarr. Oh no. What does he want?

He holds something out to me.

I don’t know why, but I hold my hand out, palm up. My khui is humming wildly inside my chest at his nearness, and I know his is, too. The shivers of its song moving through my body send prickles of arousal through me, which are deeply annoying, and I try to ignore them. He plops the object into my hand and I stare at it.

It’s a scale. It’s about the size of my thumbnail, and hard like a poker chip. It’s deep green, like the scales on his brow and back are. “Um…why did you give me this?”

“So you can think of me, of course.” He grins encouragingly at me, and I hate that his grin is attractive. Sure, it’s all fangs and green mouth, but for some reason, I like his smile.

I toss the scale into the fire.

Someone snickers nearby.

This doesn’t deter Skarr. He crouches near the fire and warms his hands, and I go back to ignoring him, stabbing at the coals. They’re burning just fine, but I need something to do, so I pick up a frozen cake of dung and wedge it into the ash at the bottom so it’ll burn slowly.

“You are good with that,” he tells me.

I glance over, not certain if he’s speaking to me. “I’m sorry?”

He nods at the dung on the fire. “That. You are good with it.”

“It’s literally a piece of shit.”

“Yes, you are excellent with shit.”

Again, someone snickers nearby. I can hear Dawn mutter under her breath. “Dear god, this is painful to watch.”

“Your hands are big and strong for a puny female,” he continues. “You should be pleased.”

“At my man-hands?” I eye him. “Can you just stop? Please?”

“I am complimenting you. I am giving you game.” His smile is encouraging. “And I would love to pleasure you.”

Dawn snort-giggles, and again, I find myself wishing for a sinkhole. “Please be quiet, Skarr.”

“I am merely pointing out how capable you are,” he says. “What is wrong with that? You are my female. Is it so wrong to point out all the ways you excel?”

If he is, he sure has a funny way of doing it. I get to my feet, putting my stick down. That’s enough fire tending for me today. Skarr gets to his feet, too. “You want to play a game? With me?”

His eyes gleam. “I would love nothing more.”

“It’s called ‘keep away,’” I tell him. “You see how long you can stay away from me, and I with you. Whoever holds out the longest, wins.”

And I turn and walk away. I pray that it works, because if he keeps following me around and complimenting me on handling shit with my man-hands, I might have to murder someone.

Chapter Thirteen

SKARR

I am not a fan of this “keep away” game. It goes on for far too long.

We “keep away” from each other for the rest of the night. We “keep away” in the morning as camp is broken and we set out for the beach village. I went there with I’rec upon the drakoni’s back, and I know how far it is—not very. But the large group is not moving very fast. There is much to carry and the females take their time, wading through the snows. The wind is cold and biting this day, and ice pellets hit my exposed skin, making it a miserable experience. I wait for someone else to point out that this weather is terrible, that we should not go anywhere.

They do not. They walk on toward the village, and I have no choice but to go with them. Bah.

As the day stretches past, I grow impatient with the “keep away” game. I do not like to lose at anything, but I also do not like keeping away from my female. Vivi walks at the back of the rambling, spread-out group, talking to no one. I am at the front, because of course I am. They can admire my form as I saunter past, and I hide from no one. But it occurs to me that Vivi again is wiser.

She is at the back because she watches everyone else to learn their weaknesses. Clever. Very clever.

The winds grow colder and my fingers stiffen up, along with my exposed tail. It grows more difficult to keep my form loose and easy, especially when the frigid air rips at my leathers. I do not wish to show the others that I am suffering, though, so I make a great show of looking for my mate and drop to the back with her.

“I have decided I cannot lose this game if I do not play,” I announce.

“What game?” She doesn’t look at me, her tone defeated.

“This ‘keep away.’ It is a foolish game.”

“Mmm.”

When I continue to walk at her side, Vivi tries to ignore me. I keep watching her, because I notice everything about her, and today she seems…less herself. There is no spark in her gaze, no defiance in her shoulders. Her posture is slumped. I do not like this. “Something troubles you.”

Her mouth quivers. “Please, can you just leave me alone today, Skarr? I’m not having a good day.”

That is easily fixed. I grin at her, and it is so cold it makes my teeth hurt when my lips pull back. “Then your mate is here to make it better.”

Vivi says nothing. Her expression turns to one of despair and she swipes at her eyes. It takes a moment for me to realize they are dripping water.

“Vivi, you are leaking. What happened? What broke?” I stop her and grab her by the shoulders, peering into her face. “Are your eyes melting?”

She pushes away from me, her distressed sounds changing to ones of laughter. “My eyes aren’t melting! I’m crying!”

Someone glances back at us, and at my scowl, quickly turns away again. I focus on my mate, reaching for her face again only to be swatted away by her hands. I have seen the other females crying, of course. They sob and wail and make disgusting wet noises with their misery at being on this planet, but I did not realize that their eyes watered and leaked. It is all the more distressing that Vivi—strong, canny Vivi—is now falling prey to weeping. “You should stop. I don’t like it.”

Another incredulous laugh escapes her and she swipes at her eyes again. “Heaven forbid I do something you don’t like.”

“It distresses me,” I admit. “Are you in pain?”

Vivi shakes her head. “What, you don’t cry when you’re upset?”

“Bah, of course not. I am a gladiator. I do not get upset. I get revenge.”

She makes a face at my words. “Tears have nothing to do with being a gladiator. They’re because I’m feeling emotional.”

“And are you emotional because of me?”

Her mouth twists and she wipes at her eyes again. “For once, no.” She gazes off at nothing. “I dreamed of my father again last night.”

“Your father,” I echo. It is not the thing I expected.

Her expression grows defensive, her mouth pursing as she gives me a defiant look. “I know what you’re going to say. That I’m a clone. That he wasn’t truly my father…but the dreams feel so clear. So real. They felt like my memories.”

Truly, does she think so poorly of me? “I was not going to chastise you. I am envious of such things. My memories have no father, no family.”

“Oh.”

We walk in silence, and I tug the fur wraps closer to me as the wind seems to grow more aggressive with each step. My fingers ache, cold and exposed to the open air, but I cannot wear mittens, not when the other males are carrying spears to protect the females. I cannot hunt in mittens.

But Vivi seems less angry at me this day. Sad, yes, but not nearly as challenging. Perhaps she is seeing my worth after all. I continue to walk at her side, thinking she has picked a poor day if she wishes me to showcase my talents to impress her. My tail is half-frozen and my steps stiff. Hopefully no one else has noticed this. I glance over at her and she is still lost in thought. “What does your father do in your memories?”

“Hm?” She turns to me, as if surprised I am at her side.

“Your father. You say you dream of him. Doing what?”

“Oh.” Her cheeks are bright spots of color, but it is from the wind, I suspect. Even so, it makes her eyes sparkle and I much prefer that than the crying. “I dream about us going camping. Of us being in the outdoors together. And we argue, but it’s fun arguing, you know? Like we’re giving each other shit because that’s our way of showing affection.”

“You give each other shit?”

“Not like that.” She chuckles, and the sound is so lovely and unexpected that it staggers me with the beauty of it. She is oblivious to my awe, though, and continues. “When I say we give each other shit, we’re teasing. Giving each other a hard time.”

“Like how you give me shit,” I agree, pleased. I knew she was not immune to my appeal.

Vivi looks horrified at the thought. “What? No, that’s different.”

I nod sagely. “Even now, you give me shit. I approve.”

“No. I just—you know what? Never mind.” She shakes her head and grips the straps of her pack tighter. “It’s not worth the argument. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You said you have no family memories, but you seem more…with it than I am. You’re not freaking out about being a clone. You’re taking it all in stride. Why is that?”

I shrug. “Because I have memories of being a clone. I have always known I am one.”

“Is that what your memories are? Of being a clone? What does that entail?”

“Battle. Battle rules.” I pause. “Preparing for battle. Resting after battle. Training for battle.”

She makes a face at me. “Really? That’s all you have memories of?”

I do not know why she seems so displeased. I think they are perfectly good memories. Very useful for any upcoming sorts of competitions. “What else is there?”

“People? Do you remember anyone?”

“I remember ripping the head off of a particularly fierce opponent.” Ah, that was a good moment. How the crowd roared as his blood sprayed over my skin. It is my favorite memory, I think.

But Vivi makes a sound of distress. “I meant like a friend, Skarr.”

“Oh, do not be so concerned. He was very much not a friend. It was a good thing to rip his head off, trust me.”

The look in her eyes is soft and confused, as if she does not know what to make of me. “Have you ever had friends?”

“Like a partner in battle? I am a solo fighter.”

“No, like friends. Companions. People you enjoy being around. People you have good times with.”

“Bah. I do not need such things.”

“Everyone needs friends.”

Do they? I smile at her, because all the things she described are things I expect in my mate. A person I wish to be around? A person I wish to spend time with? It is Vivi. She is the answer. “I have you.”

She flinches at my response, though, as if she does not like it. “Oh boy, lucky me.”

“And lucky me,” I agree, adjusting my cloak over my hands again because they feel like ice. I nearly stumble but manage to catch myself before she notices. My foolish, poor knees are locking up in the cold and making it harder and harder to move. “But it is not luck as much as it is skill and our khuis acknowledging that we are the best specimens on this planet, and so we must make strong offspring together.”

She looks over at me. “You okay?”

“I am incredible. I am strong. Powerful. The best gladiator.”

“Mmmhmm.” She pulls a layer of fur off from around the inside of her cloak, one she had wrapped around her neck to keep it warmer. It is a thick, fuzzy square that looks quite inviting. “Here. Put this over your hands to keep them warm.”

Does she sense my weakness? I will not show it. Not to anyone on this planet. I eye the other males further up in the line so they do not notice me being handed furs. “Keep it. I do not need it. This weather does not trouble me.”

“Maybe you can just carry it for me, then.” She folds it in half and then drapes it over my hands.

The thick fur immediately blots out the bitter wind and my fingers immediately feel better. I watch suspiciously, waiting for her to call attention to my weakness, for her to point out that I have a flaw, so another will battle me and I will be forced to show my strength in front of her. After all, Vivi is the best of females, and she deserves the best of males, even if I must prove it time and time again.

But she says nothing. She has provided it simply for my comfort. A strange warmth spreads through my breast. She…she thought of me. She did something nice for me. Just because she wished to be nice. She does not mock me for my weakness and shares with me instead.

Vivi is my partner, as I’rec said. The realization humbles me. I did not imagine that a human female could be a partner to a gladiator, because our strengths are not equal. But this is not about strength.

This is about so much more.

I decide in this moment that if anyone else makes her eyes melt or makes her cry, I will destroy them. A protective feeling surges inside me so strong and fierce that my khui sings loudly in response, and my cocks nearly extrude from the sheath at my groin.

I beam at her, and I don’t even mind when she doesn’t smile back. She has already shown her loyalty. I do not need demonstrations. All I need now is patience, and she will fall into my arms.

I contemplate, instead, what other gifts I can give her to wear down her defenses.

Chapter Fourteen

VIVI

Skarr walks beside me for most of the day. I expect to hate it, because…Skarr. But it’s actually rather nice. He doesn’t try to talk to me constantly and is content to be at my side. And if anyone else tries to come up and talk to me, he drives them off. That suits me just fine, as I’m not in a chatty mood.

Dreams of my father—of someone’s father—are plaguing me. It’s making me crazy, because I keep dreaming about a man I’ve never met, and it’s making my head even messier. So I keep to myself and ignore the looks of pity that the others are shooting in my direction. Skarr and resonance are turning out to be part of a much bigger problem—how can I commit myself to anyone or anything when I don’t know who I am?

This thought bounces around in my head over and over.

If anyone else is having a mental crisis like this, they’re hiding it well. They gather near the fire—tended by someone else—and make camp, all the while talking. Some of the women are struggling with the cold and the activity, but most seem to be settling in well. Daisy chats with Sabrina and Dawn, making a stew from fresh meat, while others set up tents in the snow. We’ve picked a spot between a few bluffs to keep out the worst of the wind, and we’re told that tomorrow night we’ll be at Icehome Beach.

Our new home.

I don’t participate in any of this. I hover just near enough to the fire that it feels like I’m “there” and far enough that no one will talk to me. I listen to the others without really paying attention, and no one offers me soup and I don’t demand any for myself. Funny how I can stand up to Skarr and his preening all day long, but the moment I need to point out that no one passed the soup bowl all the way in the back to me and my mouth locks up tight.

As for Skarr, he is enjoying himself near the fire. He talks with Valmir about battles in the past, gesturing with an animal bone about stabbing something in the gut. Valmir looks as if he wants to roll his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face. O’jek listens nearby, shaking his head and butchering another kill.

“You just have not seen it for yourself,” Skarr says suddenly. “I know this. I have been near her ever since we resonated. She is stealthy but wise. Only a true fool would show all their strength at once. That is why she is quiet. She hides in plain sight.” The look on his face is nothing short of utter pride, and when he scans the group, I know he’s looking for me.

Oh no, not again. Not this weird crowing about how I’m the best just because his khui happened to pick mine. It’s downright embarrassing, and all the more so because it’s not true. I hunch my shoulders and try to look busy, fiddling with the straps on the pack I’ve carried all day (and now sits across my lap). Maybe if I shrink down enough, he won’t notice me behind Gabriela, because she’s tall.

“Vivi! Come forward!” Skarr says, a note of delight in his voice. “Let me show you off to Valmir! He does not believe me when I say you are strong and lovely!”

Oh god. The man is a walking, talking pile of cringe. I get up and quickly leave the group by the fire.

“Vivi,” Skarr calls again. “Vivi!”

I ignore him, hurrying a bit faster. I can’t go far—only an idiot would wander into the endless snows at night—but I want to get away, if only for a little bit. I head in the direction that we’re supposed to be using to go to the bathroom, pointing at a designated bushy area when I pass by the moden, who is on perimeter guard. If I pretend I’m hiding in the bathroom (so to speak) for a few hours, no one will come after me, right?

But once I get to the designated potty bush, I keep on going. I follow the side of the cliff, heading deeper into the night. I tell myself just a little farther and then I’ll sit and collect my thoughts. Every time I consider stopping, though, I hear the laughter from the group, or someone shouting something, and it makes me keep walking.

Then, the clouds clear overhead and the moons come out, and the tight, narrow canyons of rock open up. The stars unfurl overhead, bright and endless, and I stop, awed by the sheer beauty.

I don’t know which one is the North Star, or if it’s even visible from where I’m at. But looking at the stars eases some of the anxiety racing through me.

“Vivi!” Skarr’s voice. He’s followed me.

The anxiety returns.

I hurry on. The snowy path slopes and I follow along, my footsteps crunching in the snow. There’s an icy layer on top since there was no fresh snow today, and I pause when I see tracks illuminated in the moonlight. New tracks, heading toward camp.

Crouching, I study them, determined to make out what sort of creature it is. In my memories, there’s a bit of knowledge about tracks, about the angle of the feet and how they strike on the snow. I’ve tracked before, and the knowledge fills me with a giddy warmth.

These are strange, though, because one side of the tracks are crisp footprints, and the other side is a smear. Are there animals here that have only one set of feet on one side? Or is it injured and coping? I get to my feet, dusting off my pants and looking around for a likely culprit. I take a step to the side—

 —and immediately flail.

In the moonlight and shadows, I misjudge a solid-looking pile of snow, only to have it collapse under my feet. I sink into a crevasse, my hand smacking hard on the ground and the bones crunching as I try to stop my fall. I let out a gasp as white-hot pain lances up my arm and it buckles.

“Vivi!” Skarr races to my side, and he hauls me out of the crevasse.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” I try to push off his hands as he holds onto me. “Really. It wasn’t that deep of a crevasse.”

“Are you hurt?” His eyes glow in the darkness, scanning over me as if looking for weaknesses.

“No,” I lie, ignoring the pain throbbing in my hand. The last thing I want is to show weakness to this guy, who makes everything a competition. I’m worried he’s going to think an injured Vivi means I can be easily “conquered.” “I said I was fine.”

He frowns in my direction and gestures at my arm. “You say you are fine, but I am reasonably certain that human fingers do not bend in that direction.”

I glance down at my hand…and want to throw up. My pinky is sticking out at a weird, broken angle about halfway down, just past the first knuckle. I must have landed on it trying to break my fall.

Before I can contemplate what I’m doing, I reach out and straighten it.

Bones crack and grind against one another. Hot pain sheets through me and I stagger, whimpering, even as the world gets dark around me. Somewhere nearby, Skarr grunts and puts a supporting arm around my waist.

“Blink it away,” he says in a solid, reassuring voice. “The pain can make you vomit, or pass out, and neither are good for a warrior. Blink it away. Focus on something else. Shall I tell you of the time I bit another gladiator’s fingers off and one got lodged in my throat? I nearly choked on the sands and died. It was quite embarrassing.”

That’s a horrifying story, made all the worse by the casual way he speaks of it. The man’s insane. “Please…please don’t tell me more stories like that.”

“Alas, those are all I have. If it makes you feel better, he punched me in the gut with his good hand and dislodged his fingers from my throat, and I went on to win the battle.”

Why…would that make me feel better?

“Here,” he says, grabbing the edge of his tunic. He rips off a long strip and holds it out to me. “Bind your wounded finger to the one next to it. It will help it heal straight.”

I take the strip from him, but when I touch my hand, pain flares through me again. I shake my head, holding the makeshift bandage back out to him. “You do it for me. I don’t think I can.”

“You can,” he reassures me. “And you will do it yourself, because you are strong and capable…and because if I do it wrong, you will blame me.”

Despite the pain, a laugh huffs out of me. He’s not wrong. I eye my trembling hand and hold the strip over it. “Distract me, then.”

“I once fought a full-blooded ssethri male,” he says immediately. “And I never want to do so again.”

“Why?” I ask even as I take deep, steadying breaths, preparing myself to wrap my fingers.

“He was a good fighter,” Skarr muses. “That was not the problem. I grabbed him by his tail, because it seemed like a smart way to use leverage, and it fell off. Did you know that ssethri can discard their tails? I did not, and I found out the hard way. So there I am, holding a useless tail while he scrambles across the sands to get to the weapons laid out for us.”

“But…you…won?” I begin to wrap my hand, whimpering through the pain. I want to stop, but I know I can’t. The pain is awful, but I also know there’s no other choice. I can’t have a bad hand in this landscape. I need to be able to use all of my limbs. I need my finger to heal properly.

Skarr makes a scolding noise in his throat, his gaze on my hand. “Do not ruin the story for yourself. Let me continue. Good, keep wrapping.”

Through a haze of pain, I wrap my pinky to my good ring finger, and all the while Skarr continues with some story about fighting a gladiator with a snout and razor-sharp teeth and a tough hide. How they were neck and neck, trading blows and breaking weapons.

When I’ve completely wrapped my fingers, I tuck the end in and then sag, all of the adrenaline in my body vanishing in a heartbeat. Skarr catches me, letting me lean against him. “Very good. And do you know what my opponent did next? After he broke his staff upon my arm?”

“No, what?”

“He spat poison in my face. Shocked the kef out of me. Not only does my tail not fall off, but I do not have poison venom. I feel very cheated.”

I laugh despite myself. Not at the poison spit, but at Skarr’s indignant tone.

His hand cups the back of my neck, his fingers cold. “And you have done very well, my Vivi. I knew you were strong.”

He says the words like a caress, and I should probably shake his hand off so he doesn’t get any ideas, but I’m tired and in pain and for some reason, I actually appreciate the reassurance. A broken finger won’t stop me. I can handle everything. I can.

So I push him away, gently. “Why did you follow me, Skarr?”

He tilts his head, and it’s clear he’s puzzled at my question. I can’t help but notice how un-lizard-like his features are compared to the opponent of the story he was telling me. He has no snout full of jagged teeth, for starters. His features are strong and broad like the other aliens, but still vaguely human. The most alien thing about his face is perhaps the color, or the line of ridged scales that goes across his brow and down his nose. Out of the men dropped here—well, other than Jason—he’s truly the most human-looking, especially with his soft, wavy hair.

“Why did I follow you? Because you are my mate, of course. I was worried I had offended you in some way.” Skarr seems frustrated at the thought. “I do not know what I did wrong.”

My hand throbs dully, and I remind myself that he coached me through wrapping it. That he’s here, supporting me instead of crowing about how amazing he is over by the fire. I need to be understanding. “I don’t like it when you keep calling attention to me,” I tell him. “It makes me upset.”

He tilts his head, and for a moment, he looks very reptilian. “Why?”

“Because I’m not any of those things you say!”

He blinks. “Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not. I don’t know where you’re getting all this nonsense. You barely know me.”

That smug smile curves his mouth. “Yes, and in the time I have gotten to know you, I have seen you keep calm when others wept. I have seen you work to collect fuel and ensure the fire was warm and blazing for the others. You have pushed me away despite resonance because I have not yet impressed you enough. And just now you have broken a finger and set it again. I see all these things and they tell me you are strong and capable and clever. Where is the lie?”

My mouth falls open. A wordless protest escapes me. He sees all that and thinks it’s strength? To me, it’s just panic. Sheer, undiluted panic. “I don’t know who I am, Skarr—”

“You are Vivi,” he says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“But I’m not. That’s just a name that was given to me because I don’t really know who I am. I don’t have enough memories.”

“Then I will help you figure out who you are.” He grins again, showing sharp canines. “It is my duty as your mate. I will help you discover the truth of who you are and point out all your merits so you see them.”

Oh boy. “Can we tone it down on the whole merits thing? I really find it embarrassing.”

“There is no shame in being strong and competent.”

He really doesn’t get it. I try a different tactic. “Okay, but if you tell them all of my strengths, then I have no secret skills to go into battle with. Remember how you were surprised by the poison spitter? It makes sense to keep some secrets hidden, so we have an advantage.”

It’s the right thing to say. Skarr’s eyes light up with delight. “You are so wise.”

“Thanks. I try.” I wiggle my hand a little and bite my lip at the surge of pain. “Fuck, this sucks ass.”

He blinks, eyes going wide, and regards my hand. “It…what?”

Oh. Oh, he won’t understand the human phrasing of that, will he? My face gets instantly hot. “I mean that this is unfortunate.”

“Sucking ass is unfortunate? Such a thing is not welcomed?”

Oh my god, he’s not going to let this go. “I mean…it’s just a saying. My hand getting hurt is unfortunate. It doesn’t have anything to do with actual ass-sucking.”

“So you would still enjoy an ass-suck?” He looks deadly earnest.

“I-I don’t think I’m going to answer that.”

A smug, knowing look crosses his face. “That is all I need to know.”

Something tells me that he’s assuming that my lack of response means that I do, actually, want an ass-eating. To be honest, I don’t know if I do or don’t, but I do know I’m not giving him any more ammo. With my luck he’d bring it up at dinner tomorrow around the fire and launch into how perfectly he’s going to eat my ass. Just thinking about that scenario makes me whimper.

Skarr touches my shoulder again. “As for your hand, it is indeed unfortunate, but we will hide it from the others. We will not tell them of your accident.” He thinks for a moment and then pulls off his outer layer of furs, offering it to me. “Carry this over your hands to mask them, like you did for me.”

I take it, surprised that he’d offer his wraps so quickly, because he needs them to protect himself from the cold. “Why would we not tell anyone I hurt myself?”

“Because we are partners. I will hide your weaknesses, just as you hide mine. Wounds are a liability, and I will not allow anyone to see you as anything other than strong and capable.”

I’m strangely touched at the support, no matter how odd it might seem. “I…thank you, Skarr.”

He nods once. “Of course.”

Maybe Flor is right and he’s developing a bit of a personality after all. Maybe I’ve been too hard on him. We’re not friends. I don’t want to pounce on him and have sex.

But it’s a start.