Chapter 23 - Polly

"So, let me get this straight," I start, twirling my fingers as if that will help all this new information sink in faster. "The Trixikka make offerings of… their…"

"Pots of disco cum," Chastity provides, helpfully.

"Yeah, that . And it gets taken inside this insane-looking thing-" I gesture toward the smooth, white structure in front of us that looks so out of place against the backdrop of rugged mountain and wild jungle. "Where there are female Trixikka inside who-"

"That's what they believe," Serena adds, crossing her arms over her body as she glances at the Trixikka who walked us here, standing a few feet away, keeping guard.

I look at each of the others and it's clear they're all as skeptical of that explanation as I am. Alana helpfully fills in the last of my question by continuing with, "and then this thing spits out a huge-ass egg with a Trixikka child inside who can walk and talk within a few minutes of hatching. This little one really was a surprise for them," she says, bouncing little Nova on her shoulder while she pats her back.

I bet she was. When you're used to a birth giving you an egg with what is effectively a five year old, a squirming, wailing, non-verbal little human baby is going to be a shock. I guess they're lucky it happens the way it does, since none of the males could breast-feed, and the environment is so dangerous. It's just like how prey animals will stand minutes after they've been born because you never know when a predator might show up.

No wonder Aloryk had looked so confused when meeting Nova that first night. The Trixikka get given children , not babies. Is that luck? I ask myself, squinting up at the huge temple in front of me. Or is it design?

And if it's the latter… who is doing the designing?

"Do you think Bea's ok?" Chastity asks a little later while we're being escorted back to the village, leaving the mysteries of the weird temple behind. "I really didn't mean to embarrass her like that. Sometimes my mouth runs away with me." I glance over at the redhead to see her ducking and cringing to herself. I don't think anyone expected Zyntarr to react that way.

"She's fine," Serena answers, pointing as we near the village. "See?"

Looking off to where Serena had gestured, I can see Bea walking with Zyntarr following on behind. She's got what looks like thick red mud coating her arms and legs, all the way up to her elbows and knees. Zyntarr is the same, although he also hefts a long plank of flat wood across one shoulder with huge dollops of heavy clay balanced all along it. Ready for his little Bea to use.

"Ooh! She said she was going to do arts and crafts with the little Trixikka boys between their flying lessons," Dove explains. "Shall we join them?"

It turns out I'm not too bad at pottery. Sure, nothing looked professional or completely smooth like from a potter's wheel, but it had been fun and a creative outlet that I really, really craved since waking up on this strange planet. The little Trixikka boys were cute, too. The older ones; the ones closest to, and going through puberty - assuming that's a thing for the Trixikka - acted a lot like mini versions of the adults. Meaning, they stared… a lot. Bea had helped one of them to make a handle for a jug and the poor kid lit up like firework, his skin-stars giving away his excitement while he opened his wings as wide as he could like he was trying to impress her with their span. The younger ones seem a little less in awe of us human girls and just want to play around with the sticky, squelchy clay. Which was fine by me, right up until the point they started making a game of slapping clay-y hands on each-other's faces.

"Oh, my God, this is chaos!" Bea says, standing in the middle of the ruckus as boys of all ages now join in the game. Zyntarr comes to stand beside her, surveying the surrounding mayhem with the surliest scowl fixed on his face. He opens his mouth as if to bellow out orders for the kids to stop, but Bea puts a hand on his forearm that makes him freeze. "Let them blow off a little steam for a while longer. It's not hurting anyone."

"But-" Zyntarr's words cut off, and the bedlam of boys and clay comes skidding to a halt. Someone had thrown a big glob of the red mud. And it landed square on the chest of Zyntarr. He looks down at the mess. Everyone else does, too. We all watch as that clump of clay slowly slides down his pecks, slumps down his scarred abs and then splats onto the ground at his feet with a soft, wet thudding sound.

It feels like all the little Trixikka boys are holding their breath. Like this huge, one-eyed warrior is about to go ape-shit on whoever dared lob that bit of clay at him.

Instead, Bea giggles.

The sound is light and fills the silence.

The giggle itself must have been as unexpected for Bea as it had been for everyone else, because both her hands come up to cover her mouth and her eyes go wide.

She can't help herself, though. The giggling starts up again, this time muffled behind her palms.

Zyntarr's scowl melts before our eyes and for the very first time, I see his mouth curve into a smile. Everyone remains still while we watch him duck and scoop up the handful of thick clay at his feet. "This amuses you, does it, Bea?" he says in a low voice, straightening but then taking up a stance of attack. Bea nods her head, her eyes still shining with her suppressed laughter as she takes a few blind steps away from him. Zyntarr's tail flicks left, then right. " Run , little female," he growls, the thrill of the chase twinkling in his one uncovered eye.

Bea squeals, her laughter now all consuming as she scrambles away. Zyntarr gives her a full five seconds before he launches himself after her, an act that seemed to signal to all the little Trixikka boys that throwing clay at anyone is now fair game.

Mud starts to fly everywhere, and all around, a cacophony of children's delighted shouts erupts.

"Oh, hell no," Alana says, clutching her baby and moving from the thick of the clay-fight. She hadn't really joined in much when it had all been calm and we'd actually been making things, what with having to hold little baby Nova. But she'd also said the only creativity she possesses comes out to play in the bedroom, and she can't make pots and plates for shit.

She stands to the side watching the battle unfold with a smile on her face, though.

A gaggle of little Trixikka boys descend upon Chastity and Serena, but they manage to duck behind the purple boulders that I've heard Aloryk call ‘sitting rocks'. Some of the boys take to the air and begin to dive-bomb Dove and I, making us scream and squeal. "This way!" Dove grins, reaching back for me so we can make a run for Chastity and Serena's hide-out.

Thinking on my feet, I drop her hand briefly to dash back to the supply of clay, scooping a whole armful up to my chest. "I've got the ammo!"

" Yes !" Chastity smiles like a madwoman when we reach them, lunging forward to get a handful of soft, squidgy clay. "You're going down , birdboys!"

We manage to lob a few handfuls of clay over our shelter, and some of them land, a few just go splatting against the dry ground. Some of the elder Trixikka stand to the side, looking like they want to intervene, but a couple of them actually join in, directing the boys over to the opposing cluster of sitting rocks, telling them to use them to shield themselves from our attacks.

"Hey, no fair!" Chastity shouts as a dozen pre-teen Trixikka launch into the skies and drop clumps of clay on us from above. "You guys can fly!"

A small group of the warrior-type guys - the ones like Aloryk, the Protectors - step up behind us. "You may use my wings for any purpose, female," one of them says to Chastity.

She grins back at him and practically hops into his arms with a glint of competitive glee in her eyes. "Let's level the playing field!" her voice sobers a little when she then instructs, "don't go too high, now, we don't want to hurt ‘em."

The Trixikka doesn't move. He's slack jawed as he stares down at Chastity in his arms like he can't quite believe he gets to hold her - never mind the fact that she's practically covered head-to-toe in sticky red clay. It takes a moment for the redhead to realize he's gone into a bit of a daze, but once she does, she pats him on the chest. "Oh, bless your heart," she says before she starts jerking in his arms like he's a pony she's trying to gee up. "Put your tongue back in, and giddy up, Feathers McGee! C'mon, get t'flappin' now!" Once the male finally launches off, it's with a laughing Chastity in his arms yelling ‘yee haw! '

" What in the name of all the Goddesses are you doing, little female ?"

The low voice appears from nowhere right beside my ear, making me jump and gasp.

" Aloryk !"

He's crouching behind the boulder with me now, looking both amused and confused. "You are covered in clay."

"Maybe I'll let you wash me off after," I tell him, raising one brow suggestively, feeling flirty now that he's back.

Aloryk leans closer, nuzzling below my ear, sending shooting stars of pleasure cascading down my spine. "Well, in that case, we should make you even more dirty." Heat blooms inside me from his words, from the mental images he implants into my mind, and from the feeling of his hot breath coasting over my skin. He hums into my throat, his chest at my back kicking up into a purr. " My female smells like she needs my cock, " he whispers for only me to hear.

"Can you two stop canoodling for just a moment?" Dove says, catching us both off guard by handing me and Aloryk lumps of clay to throw. "Wars are not won by getting all horny in the trenches."

I huff out a laugh. Out of all the girls I've met here, Dove is by far the most new-age, spiritual, hippy, peace-and-love kind of girl. And now she's taking this mud-slinging contest with the kids all too seriously. She turns to Aloryk as her hands mold a glob of gloopy clay into a shape that is roughly spherical. "Where's my man? Is the meeting over now?"

"The meeting was interrupted with good news," he answers, pausing to press a swift peck of a kiss to my shoulder. "The search party are returning with the rescued females." That gets the attention of everyone nearby. Aloryk pauses again to swallow thickly. "The High Spear and the others have gone to meet them in the skies overhead."

There was a slight waver to his voice when he mentioned the others flying to help with the rescued women. But I mentally tuck that away to maybe bring up later when we are alone. I know he doesn't want to talk about the state of his wings and whether or not they will heal, but it clearly affects him. It makes no difference to me, I only care because he clearly does, even when he pretends otherwise.

"They're back?" Dove asks excitedly. She doesn't even wait for Aloryk's confirming nod before she's shouting over to Alana. "They're back!"

As if on cue, we hear the thunderous flapping of giant wings. Squinting, I shield my eyes from the brightness of the double-suns just in time to witness a large group of Trixikka males land gracefully, the hot gusts of wind from their wingbeats stirring up the dry, red earth and making us all forget about the clay battle entirely.

There is a collective eager murmur uttered all around us by the Trixikka.

"Females!"

"New females!"

"Praise the Goddesses for their gifts!"

Alana is the first to break into a run, clutching little Nova to her chest. "Mavyx! Mavyx!" I'd thought that Zyntarr was perhaps the biggest Trixikka of the tribe, but I'd been wrong. Alana's Mavyx is a tank of a man. He scowls as he scans the crowd but that scowl morphs into a huge grin when he spots his girl weaving her way through to meet him. He's got one of the other rescued women in his arms that he must have carried here. He hands her over to another male without hesitation and scoops up Alana and Nova in the biggest bear-hug I've ever seen - truly, all I can see is the folded arms of twinkling muscle as he embraces his mate, with a bit of Alana's black hair peeking out from the center of the hug.

"Hey, now, don't squash the baby," I hear Alana say, and when Mavyx finally releases her to take the child and lift her into the air, I can't help but find them; his heart-stars, glowing big, and bold, and bright.

"Have you been a good daughter for your mother while I have been away, little one?" Mavyx asks, a wide smile on his face before he tucks the tiny baby into the crook of his massive arms.

I'm so enraptured by the scene of affection, I almost don't notice that Aloryk has stood and is tugging me to my feet now that the ‘clay war' is over. "I will go to help the new arrivals where I can," he says, pressing a peck to my cheek. "Do not wash yourself before I return. That will be my honor."

I can't help but blush at the thought of his hands all over me, washing away the sticky mud.

Chastity and her Trixikka steed land right beside me, taking Aloryk's place. They're both absolutely covered in clay now, apparently having survived an air battle with the kids. "I must help with the new females," the male says, swiftly depositing Chastity on her feet and then jogging over to where there are four shiny, new women to meet.

"Those poor girls," Chastity shakes her head as she tries to get a clump of clay out of her hair. "Look at them all swarming like flies to shit."

"Charming." I know what she means, though. The Trixikka seem to be treating this like Christmas morning while the poor, bewildered women had been just like me; blissfully unaware of their abduction until they woke up in their pods. Remembering the fear and confusion sends a pang of anxiety to my gut.

"Give them a moment to fawn over the newbies and then we'll go rescue them," Chastity comments. Though, looking at the state of both of us, I'm not sure some mud-covered women are going to be of any comfort to them. We look like swamp-monsters. I say as much to her and we both share a laugh, watching as even the little Trixikka boys seem intrigued to meet the newcomers.

"Here," I hear a gruff male say as he hands over a female to Aloryk. He looks exhausted and his chest is littered with fresh, bleeding wounds, no doubt from those awful chimp-monsters. "The female's ankle is injured."

The first thing that rises is an odd, prickly sensation at seeing another woman in my man's arms. But I bat that away pretty quickly. He's only helping and even I can see from over here that one of her slender legs ends with a bruised and swollen ankle. It looks nasty and I can't help but wince in sympathy for her.

Chastity gasps beside me. "Is that- Urgh! What's her name? It is, isn't it?"

Her hand is lightly tapping my arm like that would help her remember the name she's so desperately trying to conjure.

My eyes scan everyone in the group, only to come back to the face of the girl Aloryk is holding.

"It is! Oh, my God, what is her name? That sports masseuse or whatever… She married Chad Becker, the Quarterback for the Rooks? And then they were on that reality TV show? You know, Rooks Wives? Shit ," she curses to herself. "My brain ain't workin' today. What is her name?! Did you watch it? That is definitely her. I can't believe we've got a celebrity!"

I stare at Aloryk holding the beautiful, raven-haired woman bridal style. She says something to him about her ankle, raising it and smiling softly when he answers. She looks like she belongs there - nestled in his arms.

"It's Delphi," I say out loud, my voice sounding far away and not like my own. "Her name is Delphi."

And she's my sister.