2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Isla’s guide to The Twelve Nights of Halloheen (Excerpt)

There is no right or perfect way to do any of the celebrations. If we’re celebrating at all, it means we survived another year. Good for us!

Isla

Isla rushed to the Talin’s side, easily recognizing this male now that he was illumined by the walking-torches. “Tisuran! That was amazing. I can’t believe you went up against a fully grown gorg!”

“Are you injured, little Isla?” he asked, as he raked his gaze over her crouched form.

As with all Talins, Tisuran didn’t smile or frown. His face wasn’t designed to display emotions. Their species didn’t have visible facial expressions. They lacked the muscles to move the corners of their thin-lipped mouths up or down, crinkle the edges of their eyes, or wrinkle their foreheads as a human might do. That wasn’t where their differences with humans ended. They also didn’t have much of a nose, only a slight ridge with slits for nostrils, and they had small holes on either side of their head for ears.

Talins might not have developed facial expression to display emotions, but they’d evolved chestboxes they could rumble out of and armored back plates running down their spines they could slap together to make a rattling sound, like the deafening one Tisuran had sounded as he’d fearlessly attacked the gorg! Or the rumble he was making now that sounded a lot like the purr from an Old Earth cat.

“Are you too traumatized to answer me?” Tisuran asked, opening his arms for her as he purred. “Here, let me hold you until you feel better.”

“Me?” she screeched, ignoring his invitation to hug. Instead, she grabbed his arm to examine where the gorg had tried to chew on him. The sight of the slight indentations in the keratin plates on Tisuran’s arm and the broken quills swamped Isla with guilt. She’d caused that.

Tears filled her eyes, making her feel equally dumb and overly dramatic. She was quick to wipe them away with one arm as she pointed to his marred arm with the other.

“That’s not nothing,” she insisted, unable to look away from the marks left by the gorg.

“I’m uninjured,” he answered. “The quills will grow back and the plates aren’t permanently damaged.”

“You could have internal injuries,” she argued. “We need to get back to the compound. Can you walk? You can lean on me.”

When she looked up, she found the bright, rich amber of his eyes focused on hers. While she wouldn’t call the Talins pretty, Tisuran’s eyes were definitely captivating. She could stare into them for ages and never truly figure out how to describe their color.

“I’m a better warrior than any gorg,” Tisuran scoffed. “A moment longer and my dagger would’ve been sunk deep into the beast’s neck. It’s too bad the walking-torches arrived and spoiled my fun.”

“Yup, sure, right,” Isla agreed, bobbling her head around, feeling the impulse to both laugh and cry at the same time. “Big warrior tough. Mighty warrior not need help. He fine.”

The clinking-marbles sound of amusement rumbled out of him, interrupting his purr. “Are you teasing me, little Isla?”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted. “You were the one on the bottom of the gorg-Talin pile! It’s okay to admit you might have gotten a little hurt. For a moment you were a chew toy.” Okay, she might have sounded a little hysterical, but she’d never get the image out of her head of the gorg’s mouth chomping down on Tisuran’s arm.

“I would ask for help if there was an issue,” he answered. “The military teaches us that a warrior who won’t admit to injuries is a danger to everyone.”

Enough moisture had gathered into her hair to cause rivulets down her face, making her realize the mist had gotten even thicker if that was possible. Rustling in the forest around them might be other gorgs or harmless little creatures.

Or vampires. She wasn’t ready to rule out vampires.

Isla tugged at Tisuran’s arm. “If you can walk, we should probably go.”

“I agree, making our way back is an excellent idea,” he murmured, his deep voice gentle as his purr got a little louder. But still, he didn’t move. “You never answered my question. Are you hurt?”

Isla shook her head. That movement caused her long, ebony hair to come loose from the bun she’d put it in before setting off. Letting go of Tisuran’s arm, she gathered the long tresses and re-secured them using a convenient twig, her hands shaking the entire time. Tisuran watched her move as if looking for injury.

When his gaze focused on her unsteady hands, she was quick to grasp them together. “I’m fine,” she assured him, ignoring a last tear trickling down her cheek. “The gorg didn’t get me. I only fell to the ground. My stupidity might be fatal someday, but not today.”

He stopped his rumble for a moment to sound a harsh, negative rattle. “You’re not a stupid human,” he growled. “I won’t hear you be unkind to yourself.”

“Even if it’s true?” she asked, her humor falling flat when Tisuran only started up his soothing rumble again. She loved that purring rumble.

“It’s not true,” he insisted. “But I can see you’re in emotional distress. Come, clutch and cling to me for comfort.”

When humans had become popularized as pets among Talins hundreds of years ago, they’d been deemed emotionally needy and fragile. It was a common belief, even among the Talins who lived side-by-side with free humans, that humans constantly needed emotional support through hugging and cuddling. Tisuran was only trying to make her feel better. It didn’t mean anything.

“I don’t need a hug and you don’t have to pretend,” She gave him an apologetic look. “Everyone knows I do things like this.”

Tisuran sounded a rumble reminiscent of wheels bumping over uneven ground. It was a questioning sound. “This?”

Wordlessly, she pointed to the forest around them and then at the stiff-legged, dead walking-torch laying on the ground. “Gorgs have eyes designed for night hunting and bright light could easily drive them away, so I thought I’d be fine if I had a walking-torch. Except I didn’t check the charge,” she let out an aggravated sigh. “But why would I? No one checks charges on walking-torches because they’re always supposed to put themselves back on a charging station when they’re low. So of course I pick the one that decides to go rogue. Or is it suicidal and decided today was the day it would end it all by not going back to a charging station?”

Her little speech had Tisuran making another marbles-clinking rumble of amusement. His marbles were pretty loud, so he was really laughing at her now as he turned his attention to the possibly emotionally-unstable walking-torch.

The walking-torches Tisuran had brought had spaced themselves out to light up the forest, as they were programmed to do. One of them even stood over the dead walking-torch. Isla knew better than to anthropomorphize tech, but the working walking-torch looked like it was guarding a fallen comrade.

Rising to his knees, Tisuran grabbed the useless tech out from under the functioning one. Then he sat back on his heels and examined it. “Did you take this one from the front of Unit B?”

Isla blinked, surprised. “How did you know that?”

“Because that’s where Lysinian put it when he realized it wasn’t holding a charge anymore. Zia was supposed to look at it when she had a chance, to see if it could be repaired,” Tisuran explained. “You did the right thing bringing a walking-torch with you. If it had been fully functional, you would have been mostly safe. You were simply unlucky enough to take this one.”

Tisuran’s kindness didn’t make Isla feel any better. Tonight's idiocy almost got her killed and Tisuran hurt. “I should have been suspicious when it wasn’t on a charging port.”

Tisuran sounded a rumble of amusement. “Yes, you should have read Lysinian’s mind and known his intentions.”

A reluctant smile formed on her face. “Even with a walking-torch I shouldn’t have gone so far from the compound.”

“That leads me to ask, why are you out here?” Tisuran asked, looking around the small clearing.

Isla’s smile vanished. It was a logical question but one she wished he hadn’t thought to ask. “I don’t want to say.”

The sound of a box of metal tools being upended onto the floor filled the space around them. She’d managed to force a rattle of surprise out of the Talin. “You don’t want to talk about something?”

The incredulity in his voice caused Isla enough annoyance to snap her spine straight and cross her arms. “I don’t tell everyone everything,” she retorted. “I have secrets.”

Remaining silent, Tisuran watched her. She held up for all of twenty seconds before cracking. “It’s embarrassing,” she admitted, feeling her face get hot.

“Were you meeting a human lover?” Tisuran asked with a rattle that sounded like a swarm of wasps. Oh, he was mad.

“Uh, no,” Isla said, embarrassment giving way to confusion. “I don’t have one of those.”

“Talin?” Tisuran roared, his angry rattle getting even louder. “Did a Talin let you wander out here by yourself? Who was it? I’ll—”

“It wasn’t anything like that!” Isla nearly shouted to be heard over Tisuran’s loud voice and noisy rattling. Her words made him quiet.

“If you weren’t meeting a lover, then why did you come out here?” he asked, starting up a soothing rumble again.

Isla bit her lip anxiously. “Do you promise not to laugh?”

“That is an easy promise to make,” Tisuran said. “Talins can’t laugh.”

Isla scowled. “Fine, do you promise not to make that laughing-rumble sound?”

Tisuran sounded a rumble of agreement which always made Isla think of stockinged feet running on a wood floor. “I promise not to make a single rumble or rattle in response to your explanation.”

“Right, so, uh, I was looking for some kind of green plant,” Isla answered. True to his word, Tisuran remained completely silent. No rattle. No rumble. No words even!

When the silence had continued for several minutes, Isla couldn’t take it any longer. “Are you fighting not to laugh at me?”

“I’m weighing my questions,” he said, standing up. Then he reversed course and crouched down on his heels, opening his arms up to her, “Let’s talk as we journey back to the settlement. I can I carry you.”

Ignoring his outstretched arms, she got to her feet. Without comment he stood up also, never taking his eyes off her. It was tempting to accept the Talin’s invitation. Not that she was incapable of walking, but she longed to be held.

But no. She still wasn’t ready to be touched yet. Or probably ever.

“I’ll walk,” she answered, even though her legs felt a little wobbly. Tisuran kept his strides short and slow, making it easy for her to match his pace. The walking-torches were quick to fall in step with them, one in front, one next to her, and the last one behind them.

“Tell me if you become fatigued at any point,” he commented.

“Just ask your questions.” Her words came out sharper than she meant them to.

His purring rumbles continued to fill the surrounding air. “I’m curious, but I don’t want to upset you.”

The comment made Isla realize she was acting childish. He’d just rescued her from certain death, and she was being an overly sensitive brat. “I’m sorry, Tisuran. Please make any noise you wish and ask your questions.”

“Why are you looking for a green plant?” he asked, casually glancing around at the purple, gold, and red foliage that made up the plant life on Sorana.

“To decorate with,” she explained. When he interrupted his purring to sound a rumble of curiosity, she elaborated. “The Twelve Nights of Halloheen start tomorrow, and the tradition for the first night is to bring plants into the house.”

“I remember you mentioned something about this celebration to Zia,” Tisuran commented with an encouraging rumble. Or it could be an understanding rumble. They sounded the same, like a bunch of people snapping their fingers. “It’s important to your group of humans.”

Isla felt a proper smile stretch her lips. “Yeah! We had so much fun during the Halloheen celebrations back on Wimol. The Twelve Nights always happened after the tooktuk harvest and before the planting, so we had free time to celebrate. Other than those days, we were always working, every day, all day.”

A deep rumble of sympathy came out of Tisuran. “Poor humans, forced to labor like beasts of burden on Wimol. I’m sorry this colony requires all of you to continue to work, but soon the infrastructure will be finished. Then everything will change.”

Isla scoffed. “Compared to Wimol, this place is a vacation.”

The progressive Talins of Sorana might not see humans as dumb, but they still considered humans far too fragile to do labor-intense jobs. Talins often tried to coddle the humans, to the extent that they often ended a work day before the task was even finished.

With the planet newly inhabited, there was always more work that needed to be done. Sorana didn’t even have half the necessary infrastructure up yet. And more humans and Talins were supposed to be arriving in a few short months. Talins and humans alike had been working frantically to make Sorana ready for the incoming group. It’d be easier if they could hire proper Talin companies to come and do some of the bigger jobs, but they had to keep the true number of humans on Sorana a secret, along with the strictly forbidden human-Talin couples. As the timeline got shorter, tempers had started to fray.

That’s why they needed a break and celebration!

“It’s been so stressful lately that everyone’s gotten a bit grumpy,” Isla continued. “And there’ve been a few fights. Tess and Ger still aren’t talking. Celebrating the Twelve Nights of Halloheen would help everyone relax, have some fun, and come together as a community.” The idea of celebrating made her want to skip a little. She resisted the urge but only because her legs felt a little shaky.

Tisuran sounded the snapping-fingers rumble of understanding again. “That’s not a bad idea. Palforma commented earlier today that he believed the humans were unhappy.”

“We aren’t truly unhappy,” Isla was quick to tell him. The last thing she wanted was any of the Talins to think the humans weren’t content.

When Zia, Palforma, Derani, and Nalia had come to Wimol and offered everyone a place on Sorana, almost all the humans jumped at the chance for a better life. Living on Sorana might mean hard work and rough times during setup, but it came with the promise of an easier future.

A few years younger than Zia, Isla didn't hesitate to follow the woman she’d always idolized to a new planet. Even when her parents refused to leave, she packed up, said a tearful goodbye, and boarded the ship, knowing she’d probably never see them again. It had been almost a year, and she still didn’t regret her decision. But she did long for the laughter and comradery of Wimol.

“Not unhappy, but perhaps not as joyful as you could be,” Tisuran murmured. “I believe your idea has a great deal of merit, and I’d like to help.”

“Yeah?” Isla said with excitement. When she’d suggested doing some of the Halloheen traditions with Zia, her good friend didn’t seem enthusiastic. The lackluster response made Isla reluctant to ask anyone for assistance. But Tisuran didn’t think she was being frivolous, and he wanted to help!

“I’d be honored to be part of creating a full Twelve Nights of Halloheen celebration,” Tisuran said with a formal tone and the single clang of a decisive rattle.

“This is going to be great,” she declared, excitement making the last remnants of her earlier terror vanish. “I want to make this the best Twelve Nights of Halloheen we’ve ever had!”

“I swear to you it will be,” Tisuran intoned.

For some reason his promise made a shiver run down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold mist coating her skin.