Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Giza

"Ow!" Sakkara jumped beneath my needles. "What the hell, Giza?"

I ignored his complaint with a quiet hum and repositioned the muni over his back. When it was within millimeters of the last stroke, I tapped it with the kahp , sending the inked needles into his shoulder blade.

Sakkara jerked again, then hissed, "This didn't used to hurt as much."

"That's because you're getting old," I muttered, dipping the muni into the ink again.

The device was a re-creation, of course, but I'd worked with Karnak to build something as close as possible to the tattooing devices I learned as a youth. This one was, thankfully, far more hygienic as well.

"I'm not old, I'm just…"

When he trailed off, I positioned the muni again. " You're well-traveled," I supplied, just as I struck the needle-tipped comb with the small mallet.

He grunted, but I don't know if it was in response to the blow—a bunch of needles entering one's skin so close together, all at once, wasn't pleasant—or my statement.

"I'm tired," he mumbled.

I winced. He most likely was . He'd been in Eastshore only a bit longer than me, and he'd been the only one to stand up against the resident asshole for the position of mayor, which had become his focus in the last weeks.

Plus, he had Emmy to care for. It must be exhausting to raise a child by oneself, and I made a mental note to offer my help more often, although I know he already had a series of babysitters, such as the family of one of Emmy's friends, who was watching her this evening.

Still, I tried to bolster him, as I jabbed him once more. "Zoe complained less than you, and she's half your size."

Sakkara snorted into his elbow. "Yeah, but she's braver than all of us."

Our youngest brother's new Mate was a firecracker, which is exactly what Luxor needed. Since their commitment to each other, they'd both sat in my studio for their Mating tattoos.

"Thebes and his new Mate have made appointments for next month," I told him, dipping the muni in the ink. "I'll let you know which one complains more."

"The two of them are so high on Mating hormones, I think you could tattoo their eyeballs, and they wouldn't notice."

I snorted in agreement with Sakkara's observation. "I think they're still hidden in the owner's suite of The Lodge."

"Lucky them." Sakkara jerked again when I rapped the kahp against the comb, sending all the needles into his skin. "Ow!"

"It will be easier now, I'm moving toward the fleshy part," I assured him. We'd been working on this particular tattoo of his for a few weeks now—in between my other appointments, since his time was limited—but the rest of it should be less painful.

"Thank fuck," he sighed into his elbow, and I felt my lips twitch in sympathy.

It had been some time since Sakkara had allowed himself to curse like that, to let his guard down. He was our leader, and always had been our leader…but when he'd become Emmy's father, he'd become more . Now he was proper and polite and civilized, in a way all the poking and prodding from the scientists hadn't made him.

I passed the antiseptic wipe across the area I'd already inked, taking a moment to admire the design. "I think I can finish this swirl today."

"Can you do it by seven-thirty?" came his muffled question.

I glanced at the clock. "No problem. You have a big date?"

"I have the debate. I thought you were coming?"

I lined up the muni again. "Ah, yes, I'd forgotten. Let me see, go listen to Mr. Harrison spout capitalistic rhetoric, or stay home and trim my nose hairs. However will I decide?" I didn't give Sakkara a chance to respond, but rapped the comb with the kahp again, causing him to jerk.

"A little warning next time."

"T'mak , I've been doing this for a long time. I know if I gave you warning, you would tense, making the process harder."

"And the tattoo uglier."

I tapped the muni again. "My tattoos are works of art. "

His dry chuckle wasn't an answer, but it made my lips twitch again.

This studio was my home now. I had an apartment across Main Street—the one that used to belong to Cairo's Mate before she moved in with him—but this place was where I felt most comfortable.

Karnak was the male of our cohort who'd been on Eastshore Isle the longest, and he was the one who carried the ancestors' knowledge of our art and culture. He'd helped me decorate this studio to closely resemble the caves and huts we'd been born into. The walls were decorated with orc and fae art, and in the front room, I sold goods from any of the Others now living among the humans who wished to ship to me.

The air was perfumed with smoked herbs, and a hidden speaker played a percussion-heavy lyrical piece from a group of minotaurs out in Colorado somewhere.

Groups of Others had made places for themselves, and were assimilated with the humans…or, at least, selling their heritage and art and culture to the humans, who were understandably interested.

Eastshore was our chance. My chance.

Now that I was settled, my tattoo studio had appointments booked months in advance from humans who traveled to consult with me, then receive a tattoo. The bed and breakfasts of Eastshore Isle appreciated the influx of artistically minded humans as well.

"Dammit, Giza!" Sakkara hissed at another blow. "Are you hurting me on purpose?."

"It would hurt less if you focused your mind and your energy the way you're supposed to," I murmured, lining up the muni once more. "This is a meditative process, T'mak "—I struck again, and he didn't flinch this time—"and your mind is elsewhere. "

I could see my friend—my brother—clench his free hand into a fist, but he didn't object as I dipped the muni once more.

"I have a lot on my mind," was all he offered.

Well, of course he did. Besides tonight's debate, I knew Emmy had started second grade at Eastshore Elementary at the end of summer. "Is Emmy doing well?"

I could feel the way his muscles relaxed at the mention of his daughter and hear the smile in his voice when he said, "Yes. She's still not speaking at school, but her teacher's emails say she is interested and open in class and is learning everything well."

"That's wonderful." Another blow. "So…she is speaking at home?"

Sakkara's head came up. "I didn't tell you?" Sure enough, he was grinning. "She had another nightmare last month and called for me. Since then, she's called me by my name and made simple requests."

My brows had raised. Sakkara had been raising Emmy for over four years now since her parents had died and passed the responsibility to him. In that time, the traumatized little girl hadn't spoken. But…

"It sounds as if Eastshore agrees with her."

Sakkara nodded as he repositioned himself face-down on the tattoo table. "I think she knows we've found our home. A place we can belong. And for the first time, she has a teacher who doesn't think she's lesser because she's not fully human."

"A blessing, indeed," I murmured, tracing the marks I'd just made with a finger encased in an XXXL nitrile glove. I had to be careful with my claws when I was inking if I wanted to stay as hygienic as possible. "I can imagine your response to hearing her voice after all these years."

"I cried," my friend admitted roughly into his elbow. "I mean, she was crying too, because of the nightmare, but I just knelt there in the hallway, crying along with her."

My hand closed around his shoulder, offering what support I could. "Understandable. It is a momentous occasion. Although I am sorry she still suffers nightmares."

"Yeah, well, what can we expect? She saw her parents…"

When he trailed off, I squeezed slightly, careful not to put pressure on the tattoo. Sakkara and Emmy had watched her parents die, and neither was the same after.

I took a deep breath as I used another antiseptic wipe on his skin. "We are done here. I've finished this sworl." I smeared it with the special cream my teachers had never used and reached for a bandage. "If we give it a few weeks, we can start on the dots that represent your family."

Sakkara grunted, although I wasn't certain if it was in understanding or glee at being finished, and moved his hand under him on the table to push himself up. "You're going to make Emmy's bigger than the rest?"

"Of course, T'mak ." Little brother . I backed up to give him space as I pulled off my facemask, which I'd slipped on out of habit. "She represents your future, and the future is always more important than the past."

He paused in the process of reaching for his shirt. "I'm surprised to hear you say that. You're always going on about remembering the past."

I inclined my head in agreement, even as I gestured at the accoutrements of my studio. "It is my place to remember the past. If I don't, it will die." I began the sanitation process as I explained. "But I only do it so future generations will have the same knowledge, the same skills."

"I guess I never thought of it that way." Sakkara hummed, slipping his arms into the shirt, then settling his shoulders. "You know Luxor and Cairo only believe you hound them because you like to be annoying. "

My lips twitched again. "Yes. Well, that too."

My friend snorted. "You ought to point out to them why you hold onto these memories. Now that they're Mated, there's a possibility for children. More little kits to pass on this knowledge."

My head jerked up sharply.

I hadn't considered that.

Which was strange, considering I have been holding onto these traditions for future generations.

Slowly, I stripped off my gloves as I considered his words. "Children between orcs and humans are rare."

"Not if they're Mated." Sakkara finished buttoning his shirt, and now began the gyrations necessary to tuck it into his trousers—the male was rarely dressed in anything that didn't make him look like a banker. "Like Dahsur and Stephanie."

Emmy's parents had been remarkably lucky to find each other so soon after we traveled through the veil into the human world, which had made losing them both so much harder.

I began to put away my equipment, as the music faded and the minotaur playlist reached the end of the last song, and considered his words.

"You suspect there will be more kits coming? Now that Karnak, Cairo, and Luxor are Mated? Oh, and Thebes?"

"Don't forget Tanis," Sakkara prompted.

Oh yes. I only just recently learned that Tanis—a male who'd lived here on Eastshore with Cairo and Karnak for nearly a decade— was Mated. All of us had assumed he'd been merely hired as a bodyguard for the famous violinist who'd visited the island earlier in the year.

"Have you heard from him?" I asked.

My friend turned away to study a painting on the wall, but I wasn't sure if he was genuinely interested, or just avoiding my gaze. "Let's say…I wouldn't be surprised if he and Olivia return to Eastshore soon."

I hadn't seen the male since we were incarcerated in the human scientists' labs ten years ago, but I would be pleased to see him again. "Excellent. Each of us who arrives makes the island feel more…"

When I trailed off, Sakkara inhaled and finished my thought. "More like home."

Yes .

Sakkara cleared his throat. "Speaking of which, the twins will be joining us by the end of the year."

I whirled toward him. "You were able to talk them into it?"

He shrugged. "I was able to talk Abydos into it, and—"

"When one goes, the other must follow—"

"Or risk losing whatever childish competition they're still living."

Despite my complaints, I was pleased to hear more of our cohort would be joining us. But I nudged the conversation back to an earlier train. "And speaking of children, it is our responsibility to teach Emmy all we can about our world," I prompted him gently. "If she does not wish to call you Ba , then it would be appropriate to call you Taba ." The word meant something like stepfather or godfather in English, a surrogate father.

Sakkara turned back with a raised brow and a rueful smile. "I haven't heard those words in years."

"I know," I said quietly. "That is why it is my job to remind you."

It was my job not to forget.

Not to ever forget.

I was older than Sakkara—than the others—by over a decade. My hair was graying, my knees were aching, and some days, my morning run was harder than others. I knew I was still strong and healthy, but I'd spent more time living in our world before we'd crossed the veil, and thus my memories were firmer.

I would remember because I was the only one who could.

Sakkara's nod told me he understood those unspoken words. "Thank you, D'kap ," he said quietly.

The honorific used to show respect for one's elder made me blink in surprise, and his slow grin told me he'd used it for just that purpose. I snorted. "I'm not so old I can't beat you at wrestling, remember, little brother ."

Sakkara's sudden shout of laughter rang through the studio, then he slapped me on my shoulder. "I will take you up on that one day, brother, but not today. I have to get to the debate. You really aren't planning on coming?"

I had leftovers to reheat, then I thought I'd read before bed. My expression must've given away my lack of plans, because Sakkara harumphed. "That's what I thought. So there's no reason you can't come to the debate and cheer for my cunning linguist skills."

I made a noise that could have been a snort, if I wasn't too polite to snort. Ignoring his pun, I pretended to grumble, "I don't cheer."

His grin grew. "I know. Come with me to the debate. You can sit with Thebes. Then we'll grab dinner, and you can help me put Emmy to bed."

When I hesitated, he used his grip on my shoulder to shake me slightly. "Come on, D'kap , surely that's not worse than your plans? I'll let you tell Emmy her bedtime story—you know she likes the ones about the ancient wars."

Tempting… "What's for dinner?"

Knowing my weakness, Sakkara wheedled, "Fried flounder from The Waterfront. With onion rings."

Fried food was, in my opinion, one of humanity's best inventions. Whisky, crossword puzzles, and moveable type were up there too. "Of course I want to support you," I hedged, as if I hadn't planned to attend the debate as soon as I'd learned of it. "But having to listen to Geoffrey A. Harrison…"

"He's going to propose his thirty-five-point plan for economic growth."

"Thrilling," I murmured dryly, finishing my cleaning up.

"Fried flounder, onion rings, and mozzarella sticks," Sakkara prompted.

Of course I knew I was going to the damn meeting.

"Fine," I sighed, "But I'm getting extra onion rings, and I'm telling Emmy two stories."

Sakkara was grinning when he threw his arm around my shoulders, only wincing slightly at the pull of the bandage under his shirt. "I wouldn't have it any other way."