Chapter 6

Maeve

I step outside and shiver. How in the world am I ever going to survive the cold season? I'm always freezing. Last night, with the fire going and all five of us huddled together was the first time I'd been comfortable. It got cold back in New St. Louis, but most of my days were spent in a hot factory. My walk back to my place was cold, but I didn't live far and in my tiny studio I was able to keep warm with the blankets my mother had made when she'd been alive. It helped that I was right over the boiler room.

"Did you and your tribe sisters enjoy your sleeping celebration?" Alanda asks as we head toward the bizele bushes to harvest some of them.

We didn't get much sleeping done, but I'd had a surprisingly fun time and it kept my mind off…other things. Of course, the minute I woke up, those other things were the first to pop into my head. I focus back on my friend and her question. "We did, thank you. This one was spur of the moment, but next time we'll plan ahead, and you can join us if you'd like."

If Tavikhi could blush Alanda would be doing so. She has been almost painfully shy around us, mostly just when London's about though. When it's just Alanda and me working together, Alanda is a lot more talkative and outgoing. I don't suppose I could intimidate anyone.

"I would very much enjoy that. You honor me, Maeve."

"You're our friend— our tribe sister—too."

We reach the bizele crop and Alanda passes me one of the baskets we use to carry the fruit. "You remember how to tell if they are ready?"

I nod. "If the root attached to the bush has turned orange."While that isn't actually how she described it, that's the way I remember.

"Good."

Knowing exactly what I'm looking for, I set off. The bushes are arranged in a pattern that is easy to follow without getting lost or trying to figure out if I'd already been past a certain section. I carefully check each piece of what us humans have started calling not-a-peach since it looks nothing like one, despite its taste, and put them in my basket if I feel like they're ripe enough.

Supposedly before the cold dust comes they should all be ready and the field will be empty until the warm season comes and the crop returns. I smile at the words ‘cold dust' for some season. It definitely sounds a lot more fun than snow. Not that either of them are fun, but if I have to call it something, I like using cold dust. It's the perfect name for it.

I pick more bizele than I don't and soon my basket grows heavy. Making my way back to where Alanda left our other two empty baskets, I drop off my full one and pick up the next and return to where I'd left off. Some people might think fruit picking is a boring and tedious task, especially doing it alone in the quiet morning before most of the tribe has risen. Not me. After nine years of working in a loud factory where there's so much chaotic machinery that hisses and whirls and snaps, I enjoy the solitude. Normally.

Today, I don't like it. Because it gives me time to think and the only thing my brain is thinking about right now is…him. Of all the Tavikhi warriors, Benham's the largest. Not only in height, but build. He towers over the other warriors who have to be almost seven feet tall and his muscles are huge. No doubt from his blacksmithing. He could probably kill me with a single slap. Or wrap one hand all the way around my neck and squeeze. My airway tightens just thinking about it. David choked me once when I wouldn't stop crying. For a moment, while my vision had gone gray, I thought he was going to kill me. I learned to shut up after that.

Trying to keep my attention on my chore, I quickly fill the second basket and make my way back to where I'd set my first one. Except it's gone. I spin in a circle, my gaze circling with me while I check everywhere around the immediate area. I know this is where I put it. Alanda's empty one is still sitting right here. She steps out from one of the aisles with her basket and heads for me.

"Is all well, Maeve?"

"My other basket is gone. I set it right here before I went back to harvest more bizele, but now it's missing."

Her bony brow ridges shift. "No Tavikhi would take what was not theirs."

I let the insinuation pass that a human would, because I truly don't think she meant any insult by omitting them. It still doesn't explain the missing basket.

"Come. Let us take these to the food stores tent and I will ask if anyone has seen it."

Annoyed and confused, I let her lead the way. She comes to a halt shortly before we reach it and I almost run into the back of her. I move to the side to see what caused the hold up. There, lying in front of the door of our destination, is a full basket of bizele. My basket. What the hell?

"One of the hunters must have carried it here for you to help with the burden," Alanda says like it's a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Which, I suppose it is. I've only been in the village a few weeks and have only been helping her for one of them. Maybe this is a common occurrence that I just haven't seen yet. Still, it feels different.She walks to the tent and sets her basket down next to mine so she can draw open the door flap.

While I might appreciate someone carrying the load for me, what I don't like is that someone was so close, and I never even heard them. The bizele crop is all the way at the back of the village past the elder's tents. Anyone could be back here. Hiding. If the attack a few days ago is any indication—or the day Remi was bathing in the river—it's not the first time the Krijese have made it past the scouts. What's to say they couldn't do it again?

Up until now I didn't mind being back there with Alanda. Buddy system and all. But now all I can think about is the danger. Even if it doesn't yet exist.

"Maeve," she calls my name and I blink away the trance.

"Yeah, sorry, coming." I pass her the basket in my arms and she sets it inside the tent and I hand her the one on the ground.

Once all three baskets are inside the tent, we step out into the cold. "If you would like to wait here, I am going to go fill my other and ask who might have brought this one. When I return Iwill show you how we preserve these for the winter."

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you? Four hands are better than two." I hold mine up and wiggle my fingers. Alanda looks at me like I have three heads.

"I will be quick."

Before I can offer up any protests, she dashes off. The wind kicks up and sends a cold chill running through me. I'm practically in the middle of the village. No one is going to do anything to me and it's got to be warmer in the shelter of the tent than standing out here. When another gust comes, I duck inside the food stores. The only light comes from a low torch staked into the ground where, in the other tents, a fire pit is dug.

I suppose they don't want it to get too hot in here and spoil any of the food. Even without an actual fire burning it's a few degrees warmer in here than out in the wind. I glance around and take note of the slowly growing supplies. Alanda doesn't know the exact head count of the village—perhaps seventy-five to a hundred is her guess—but there's a lot of people to keep fed for the next three months when hunting is scarce.

A scraping sound outside makes me straighten and the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. I wait for someone to enter, but the hide door stays closed. Why am I so jumpy all the sudden?

Another sound comes, but I remain alone. Alone with my thoughts. Which somehow automatically go back to Benham and the way he loomed over me last night. The way the torch light flickered across half his face. The scarred half. I don't know what caused it, but there's enough compassion inside me to feel bad for him. Although not enough to want anything to do with him.

Finally, after what feels like forever, Alanda says my name. I open the flap and step to the side so she can come in. I don't waste time.

"Did you find out who picked up my basket and brought it here?"

She shakes her head. "I am sorry, Maeve. Most of the village is only now rising from their sleep and leaving their tents. No one saw who did it."

It had to have been a tribe person. There is nobody else. But who? Could it have been Benham? I dismiss the thought the moment it enters my mind. Since no answer is going to miraculously appear, I try to forget about it.

"It doesn't matter. Now, you were going to show me how to preserve these?"

She roots around behind all the stored food and brings out two small knives, passing one to me. "First we must remove all the outer covering. Once that is finished, the fruit needs to be cut in small pieces. The covering is ground up and given to the elders to make their special brew we drink during celebrations. The meat is placed in a clay pot and cooked over the fire until all the juice has been removed."

Sounds easy enough. I'm assuming the ‘special brew' is the alcohol that everyone was drinking last night. I wrinkle my nose, but try not to judge.

Alanda picks up one of the bizeles and gets to work. I do the same. We work quietly together, the only sound being the shearing of the skin. It's a lot easier, and quieter, than factory work. And it's nice having someone to sit with while we do it.

"You have not spoken of your mating with Benham," she gently breaks the silence.

Because I'm trying really, really hard to forget about it. "I kind of don't want to talk about it."

Alanda's yellow and purplish-black feline eyes blink like she's surprised. "I do not understand. A fated mate pairing is meant to be celebrated. Look at the shefir and shefira. Zydon and Remi. And now we have Zedam back with his mate. There may soon be kits again after too many seasons without them."

Children? Can humans even have children with Tavikhi? We're not the same species. "I know it's not the Tavikhi way, but some people don't want anything to do with a mate."

Alanda continues staring at me like she still can't understand how I could be one of those people. I don't mean to, because I hate talking about it, but I reach across and lay my hand on hers. "A man hurt me before. Back on Earth. It's nothing personal against Benham, but sometimes a woman loses all trust in men. And I know you're going to say he's a good person. But the friends of the man who hurt me said he was a good person, too."

She turns her palm up and clasps my fingers. "I am sorry that a male broke your trust. Tonight, I will pray to Deeka that Benham will show you he is a male worthy of putting your trust in again."

"That Benham will show you he is worthy."

Somehow those words help. He is going to have to do all the work to prove he's trustworthy. Except I haven't even seen him since last night. Maybe he has no interest in being my mate either. It would make things easier. I have no desire to hurt anyone. What if he does want to be your mate? Then what? Could he force me to be? The temperature inside the tent drops and a chill works its way down my spine. No. London said I had a choice. That no one would force me. Except London's as new to this planet and the Tavikhi as I am. Does she really know that to be true?

"Maeve? You are well?"

I force myself to look at Alanda and smile. "Yes, sorry. Thank you…um, for praying, I guess."

She smiles back like everything's great and returns to peeling the bizele. For the next hour that we work, I can't stop worrying that maybe London is wrong.