Chapter 15

15

- Alba -

“We have a guest,” Anter’az’s voice booms from deep inside the cave.

A guest? I quickly check that I’m decent, then get to my feet, not feeling too happy about a visit. Unless it’s one of the girls, but that seems unlikely.

Grabbing the spear the Krast man tried to kill me with, I stand in the shadow next to the wall and stare into the cave.

Anter’az comes walking slowly with a smaller shape behind him.

I squint. Is it a girl?

“Woman Alba, you may remember Tren’ax,” Anter’az says loudly. “He was waiting for us outside the cave.”

It’s a boy, and I vaguely recognize him as the one I thought Anter’az was killing that first time.

“Oh,” I manage, because while he’s probably harmless, he will disturb this idyllic existence I was hoping could continue. “Greetings, Tren’ax.”

“Greetings. Woman Alba,” the boy says reverently, his hand slapping the handle of the knife in his belt, a gesture that means something like ‘at your service’.

“Tren’ax brings news from our village,” Anter’az says, his voice and face so neutral that I understand the news can’t be good. “What is it, Tren’ax?”

“It’s not news,” the boy says, scratching his leg and looking out at the hollow. “It’s just something that happens. Everyone’s going crazy, I think. There was a lot of fighting, and the men from Borok and Tretter had to leave the village. The chiefs were angry, and there was a lot of yelling. Some tribesmen have left the village and gone to live next to the Borok and Tretter camp. Many are injured in the fighting, but you’re not there, so nobody’s healing them. Nobody’s going hunting for food. Someone set fire to the totem pole, and nobody’s taking care of the Lifegivers…” Tren’ax chokes.

Anter’az puts a hand on his shoulder. “I see. Thank you for telling us, Tren’ax. Now, let’s get you some food.”

He sits the boy down and gives him some of the fruit we gathered yesterday. The kid looks dirty and disheveled. I spot the scar where I saw Anter’az biting into him that day. It’s an angry red, but healing well. Still, it must be tough for a boy to walk this far in the jungle. The state of his home village must be really bad.

“How did you find the cave?” I ask.

“Tribesman Tarat'ex was here to visit you,” Tren’ax says. “He said where it was, and I just followed his tracks.”

“Soon every Krast man will come,” Anter’az says calmly. “Vral’s Cave isn’t as well hidden as it was.”

“They say every woman should be killed,” Tren’ax says between voracious bites of the fruits. “But others say they should not. They say we should go to war with the Borok again and take their women for ourselves. But some say we should not.”

“Everyone’s indeed going crazy,” Anter’az frets. “War with the other tribes? When we’re badly weakened after the skarp ruined most of our village? After the Borok and Tretter tribes came to help us with no expectation of a reward? These are strange things.”

“Maybe you can go there,” the boy suggests with wide eyes. “And just… fix it!”

Anter’az gives him a tight smile. “Perhaps I can. I certainly don’t like the thought of my tribesmen being injured with no healer to help. On the other hand, I don’t feel like men who fight their own tribesmen should have those injuries healed at all.”

“They trust you,” Tren’ax says. “Many want you as the next chief. I wish you would be! You could lead the tribe better than anyone.”

I can’t help but agree. Anter’az is a natural leader, and he has to be the most capable man in the tribe. I saw the trust they have for him to heal them. And yet, I don’t think I can live in his woman-fearing tribe. Even with him as chief.

There’s suddenly a barb in my heart. If he chooses his tribe, it will be really hard for us to stay together. “You probably could,” I say out loud. “You’re the only man in the tribe.”

“You said that before,” Anter’az says and takes my hand, squeezing it. “But now I wonder if I want to be a part of the Krast tribe at all, if this is how they behave the moment I leave. Who wants to be a father to a whole village of grown men, as if they were small boys?”

I squeeze his hand right back. “You’re too good for them.”

He smiles mischievously. “I sometimes think something similar. Well, I’m not going to decide now. Tomorrow we will decide. Or maybe the day after. There’s no rush, Tren’ax. It might be dangerous for me to go there now. We shall wait for the full moon when the Elders select the new chief. Now, when you’ve finished eating, you and I shall go back out and erase any clue that Tarat'ex or you have left that might lead to Vral’s Cave. We shall lead the trackers right off a cliff.”

The boy smiles cautiously. “Yes, Anter’az.”

The pot on the fire has been furiously boiling for a while, and Anter’az takes it off the heat.

“Did you see the vral outside?” I ask.

The boy just stares. “The vral? I’ve never seen a vral.”

“This place is called Vral’s Cave,” I tell him, “because there is one right outside.”

I swear the boy goes pale. “Outside here?”

Anter’az chuckles. “You were walking out of the jungle right under its web, and you didn’t see it.”

The boy reflexively pulls his feet closer to him. “There’s a web?”

“Not in here,” I tell him. “The vral not want to come inside. We think it guards the cave from those who are bad.”

“Oh,” the kid says and picks up another fruit. “Vrals are really dangerous. The bad men better stay away.”

“They better,” Anter’az agrees. “Oh, but we were busy, Alba.” He hands me several walnut-sized chunks of sap, set and stiff. “Let’s finish our hats. But first, I’ll fill the bathtub. Tren’ax, you’re not allowed to go into the deeper parts of the cave. Stay up here.”

Tren’ax turns his head and stares into the darkness of the cave where the ground slopes down. “Yes, Anter’az.”

The caveman I’ve come to think of as mine lifts the boiling pot with the help of a thick piece of wood, then carries it into the cave.

“What are the Borok and Tretter men doing?” I ask. “Just stay in their camp?”

“Yes,” Tren’ax says. “It became dangerous for them to be in the village. But they finished three water pumps and they will build more, they say. But maybe not this time.”

Damn. What the hell is wrong with that tribe? “Did they really set fire to the totem pole?”

“Yes! Someone carved you into it,” Tren’ax breathlessly explains, “and then someone said that there should be no women in the village at all, not even on the totem pole, and then there was a fight and it caught on fire! And they threw water on it and it only burned a little.”

I frown. “They carved me into the pole?”

“Yes! At the top! It looked just like you, Woman Alba. Many in our tribe liked it! And they like women and they said it’s shameful how Anter’az had to leave to preserve the honor of the tribe.”

Hmm. Maybe it’s just a few bad apples that are crazy. Maybe Anter’az can actually fix it, the way this boy seems to think he can. We can’t be the only two who see that he is clearly that best man the tribe has. “All right. When we’re in private like now, you can just call me Alba.”

“Yes, Woman Alba. Alba.” The boy gives me a shy smile.

Anter’az returns and puts the pot back on the fire, now refilled with water. “Don’t worry, Tren’ax. It would take more than some fights to damage the honor of the Krast tribe. These are very strange times.” He fishes a glowing piece of wood out of the fire and drops it into a small pot. “Put the sap in here, Alba. The heat will make it soft.”

I do as he says, and after a minute the sap pieces have become an amber, runny liquid. Grabbing the pot, I pour it out on the top of the finished hat, distributing it as evenly as I can in a spiral that goes down the sides of its rough cone. “And now?”

“May I”? Anter’az takes the hat and then turns it upside-down as he holds it over the fire, so close to the flames that they singe the sap and turn it dark brown. “It’s something I’ve noticed whenever there’s a fire in the jungle. The sap stops being soft.” He blows on the still smoking hat and then taps on the outside of it with one fingernail. It gives off a hard sound that’s nothing like wood or metal.

I take the hat and try it myself. The sap covering is still hot, but it’s hard to the touch and shows no signs of melting again. “I think you’ve invented plastic!”

Anter’az and Tren’ax exchange glances.

“Yes,” Anter’az deadpans. “Many years ago, I said to myself: Anter’az, you must invent plasik . And I tried, again and again. I walked to the end of the jungle to search for the answer. Then I walked to the other end and consulted the fabled hermit who lives there. But he also didn’t know how to invent plasik . In despair, I thought, maybe there will never be plasik on Xren! Then I met Woman Alba and she had many alien secrets. I thought, maybe she knows about plasik! But I could never ask her directly. The secret of plasik is too important, she will never give it to me! Until now. I invented plasik, and Alba said that it was perfect.” He takes the asian-style hat, puts it on, gives the edge a casual little flick, and looks at us, arching one eyebrow.

Tren’ax giggles.

I chuckle, too. “Sorry. Plastic is something we have on Earth. Like this.” I touch the yellow hair clip I’ve carefully attached to my dress. But this is perfect. Smells good, too.”

“ Plasik must smell good,” Anter’az says as he takes the hat off. “It’s the law of the jungle. Now you know how to make plasik , you can do the next one yourself.”

I melt more sap and coat the other hat in it, too, then singe it just enough to make it hard. “We must make one for Tren’ax, too.”

Tren’ax frowns. “It will be hard to look for irox when wearing that.”

“It will,” Anter’az agrees and takes the hat off. “We can only wear it sometimes.”

“Wait,” I tell them as I get an idea for a new design. “The next one will be different.”

After a while, the two of them leave to disguise and change the tracks, so it will be harder to find the Vral’s Cave.

While they’re gone, I finish the new hat and wander down to the bathtub, which is absolutely steaming hot. When Anter’az gets back, we’ll have to add a lot of cold water to make it even bearable to take a bath there. “Maybe we can make a real sauna down here,” I fantasize aloud. “Build some wooden walls with a fireplace inside.” It’s not a thought that would have occurred to me anywhere else I’ve been on Xren, but there is cool water in here, perfect for jumping into after getting a good sweat on. “Might be hard to turn this into a spa, but it would be really nice...”

No, I have to stop making plans for this place. It’s going to be hard enough to leave it as it is.

I wander aimlessly down the cave, past the cold, clucking stream. The torch throws its flickering light on the irregular walls. I'm not sure, but this could be under the ground outside the cave. It may well be the reason why the ground booms when Anter'az jumps on it.

Soon I spot the end of the cave. It gets really narrow and becomes a crevice that I don't want to get into.

As I turn to go back out, I spot a shadow on the wall. It's a leather bag, the one Anter'az brought out of his secret cave back in the village and then carried all the way here. It hangs on a thin pole that has been jammed into a crack.

The crazy part of me itches to see what's inside. What does he keep in that secret cave, and why is it so important that he brings it here?

Knowing him, it's something venomous. And I don't want a repeat of the cage-opening experience I had.

I frown. Did the bag just move?

Trying to hold the spluttering torch steady, I back away from the bag. It's difficult to see if the bag is moving or if it's because the torch's flame moves.

“Shit!” I jerk and almost drop the torch as the bag suddenly twitches. There's definitely something that moves in that bag. Something that's alive.

I back up and walk fast back through the cave, only stopping when I get to the tub. I'm not sure what I expected — of course the venom collector is going to bring some kind of terrible monster to his safe and peaceful vacation home.

At least he put it as far away from me as possible, where there's little chance of me accidentally setting it loose like with the cages. I will choose to take that as a sign that he knows what he's doing with these things.

It's sunset when Anter'az and Tren'ax finally return, bringing a lot of berries and more herbs that Anter'az wants to use.

I sit down with my various leaves and nuts and herbs. Of the various concoctions I've made, only two of them worked reasonably well, and that's the soap-like gel that was nothing like soap and the nut oil with added crushed flowers for scent. All the other ones are mostly sticky messes, one of them probably useful as a dark red coloring. I will show it to Bronwen if she wants to use it for her wall paintings.

“We changed the tracks,” Anter’az reports when they're both drinking their fill of clean water from the hollow. “Anyone following the trail will now be led past a nest of rekh.”

“Two nests,” Tren'ax adds. “There was a small one, too!”

“Two nests,” Anter'az agrees. “After that point, the tracker will have other and more urgent things to think about than finding the Vral's Cave.”

After a meal of grilled meat and boiled roots and vegetables during which Tren'ax is struggling to stay awake, Anter'az tells him to lie down by the fire while he and I go down to the hot tub.

Despite the hours that have gone by, the water still hasn't cooled down enough by itself, so we add a good amount of cool water. I sprinkle the last handful of crushed flowers into it, and then we shed our clothes and jump in. The splashing sounds echo off the walls of our underground hot tub, lit by flickering torches.

I sigh as the warm water soothes my injury.

“The jungle is quiet,” Anter'az says as he slides his hand down my back, avoiding the wound. “As if something is about to happen.”

I let my fingers brush against his cock under the water. “Maybe something is.”

He arches one eyebrow. “I'm hoping some things will happen.”

“You don’t mean a monster like the skarp?” I ask, gently scrubbing his shoulder.

His hands slide down my hips. “The skarp only comes along very rarely, and it was just here. I don’t know what I mean, my love. There are no tribesmen anywhere near here, or Tren’ax and I would have heard them. He has unusually good hearing, that boy. The only tracks we found were his and Tarat'ex’s. So I think we’re safe here.”

I look into the depths of the cave. “I went to the end of the cave today.”

He follows my gaze. “Ah. All the way to the end?”

“All the way,” I confirm. “I saw a bag there.”

He gently scrubs my upper back. “Did you see it move?”

“I think so.”

“But you didn’t open it?”

“Of course not.” I shudder. “I remember the cages.”

“The sack that hangs there is like a cage, too. For a creature that I didn’t want to leave behind in the village for days.”

“You’re worried it would be dangerous for the tribe?”

He chuckles. “I was worried the tribe would be dangerous for the creature. I think it’s in a vulnerable stage right now. I want to see what happens with it, so I brought it. I don’t know it that well.”

“So we are safe here, even with that creature in the sack?”

There’s a glint in Anter’az’s eyes. “I’ve learned not to put you anywhere near living things that could bite you.”

I gently slap his chest. “Hey, I can’t help it if they want to bite me.”

“You could try to be less delicious-looking.”

“I don’t know how,” I tell him coyly. “Some people just look delicious.”

“But it’s so dangerous! Everyone wants to bite you. Like me, for instance.” He leans in, tilts his head, and gapes over the side of my neck. His fangs touch the skin, like the warm tips of four daggers.

A shiver of both fear and pleasure goes down my back despite the hot water. “Oh…”

Instead of biting down, which would kill me on the spot, he licks his textured tongue along my neck, ending up at my throat, kissing it while keeping his fangs in contact with the sensitive skin there. Another shiver goes through me. He has this way of reminding me how dangerous he really is.

And it makes me want to get out of this bath and up to the hollow. But Tren’ax is there, so we won’t be able to enjoy the wonderful acoustics of the hollow.

Anter’az leans back. “When we get out of the water, we can stay down here for a while. And see if we might find something to do.”

There’s a heap of furs and rolls of leather on the rock beside us. “You’re prepared well, tribesman.”

He shrugs his massive shoulders. “The jungle rewards the prepared. Perhaps the woman also does that.”

I lean in and kiss him, grabbing his hard cock under the water. “Let’s find out.”