Ice Planet Holiday (6 page)

Pretty sure I’m going to freak out now. My baby’s stuck inside me and no one knows how to get it out.

“Oh my God, it’s backwards?” Josie squeals. “What do you mean, it’s backwards? Like the butt end is coming out first or what? Because I’m pretty sure—“

Claire grabs her arm to silence her. “Not now, Josie.”

Josie’s gaze flicks from me to Maylak. “Are you guys gonna fix it? Is this gonna be gross? Should I cover my eyes?”

“I don’t know how to fix it,” Maylak tells me.

“So we’re just going to let it happen?” I pant, and a hysterical note raises in my voice. “Because I’m pretty sure that doesn’t work for me! If this baby comes out backwards, that is bad news!”

Josie’s eyes widen and she gallops back out of the cave.

“Must be nice to be able to run away from problems,” I snipe, cranky. Josie’s not the one giving birth, after all.

Claire shrugs and kneels at the foot of my bed. “What can I get you? Some tea? Some water? Something to eat?”

I bite down on my lip and look at the healer. Maylak keeps putting her hands on my stomach, but it’s clear she’s not sure what to do. I’m feeling panicky. This baby’s coming fast, and it’s coming wrong. I fight the urge to burst into tears of self-pity. For the first time in a long, long time, I wish we were back on Earth. Earth has hospitals and neonatal units and people that know what to do if your baby’s turned backward.

“I’ll get you some tea,” Claire says, and plucks a sprig of leafy greens off the bed.

For some reason that strikes me as funny, and I start to laugh. Maybe I’m a bit hysterical. Okay, a lot. Whatever. It feels good to laugh, and I laugh all the way through my next contraction. I’m still laughing when Josie returns a moment later, breathless from running, and she has Tiffany in tow. “What now?” I snarl at them. “We parading everyone in so they can come see me try to give birth? Really, Josie?”

“Tiffany’s from a farm,” Josie blurts. “That’s why I got her.”

“A farm?” I’m not following her train of thought. “What—“

Tiffany brushes aside the strewn plants and kneels at the end of my bed. She puts her hands on her thighs and gives me a tight smile. “So, like, I’ve only done this with cattle. But it’s probably the same, right?”

“What’s the same?” I don’t like the way this is heading.

“Turning the baby,” Tiffany says.

Relief shoots through me. Hope. I’m still panicked, but at least someone has a solution. There’s a way to fix this. Of course there is. “You’ve done this before?”

“On cattle,” she says, and offers me a smile. She looks over at Josie. “Get some hot water and soap for me to clean my hands?”

Josie rushes back out again, and I’m sorry I yelled at her. I’ll apologize later, to both her and Vektal, when I’m not getting my insides split in two. The next contraction rips through me, and I scream again. Lots of apologizing when I’m done. Lots. “Just tell me how we get this over with,” I grit out.

“Well, you’re not going to like it,” Tiffany says. “But I don’t know that we have any better options.”

“Just tell me.” I can take it.

“I’m going to stick my hand up your cooter,” she blurts out. “And turn the baby manually.”

I blink.

“That was human tongue,” Maylak says. “I did not catch. What is coo-tur?”

“You’ll see,” I say grimly and suppress a shudder. Oh God, I must really be out of options, because this is all I’ve got. “Is it going to hurt?” I ask Tiffany.

“I don’t know. I’ve never asked the cows.” Her smile is apologetic.

I can feel another contraction bunching in my abdomen, and I’m suddenly so glad that I sent Vektal away. I don’t think I’d want him watching as another woman fishes around inside me with her hand. Yikes. I don’t think I want to watch, either. “Let’s get this over with,” I say, and grip Maylak’s arm for support.

Y
eah
, I’m right. It’s not fun and it doesn’t feel good. In fact, it’s pretty awful. But a short time later, the baby’s turned and everything more or less flies after that. Before I know it, the birth is done and then I’ve got a baby in my arms. It’s a big, squalling healthy baby the exact same shade of pale blue as Vektal, with horns, a tail, and curls of brown hair that are the only thing my baby girl seems to have inherited from me.

My Talie’s beautiful. So beautiful.

I’m exhausted and raw, physically and mentally. Physically is something Maylak can take care of, and so I lay quietly and nurse Talie as she encourages my khui to knit torn flesh and heal my tired body. Talie nurses like a champ, and I hold the kit to my breast, feeling her suck, and I’m just…overwhelmed. So completely overwhelmed.

Claire left a short time ago with the fur-wrapped afterbirth for Vektal to dispose of, and the others have cycled out. Josie, ever a busy-body, has brought more clean furs, some snacks, and hot tea that has long gone cold. Tiffany left the moment Talie came out, wanting to give me some alone time (I suspect to wash her hands again, not that I blame her). Soon it’s just me and Maylak.

And Talie. Sweet, sweet Talie. I keep touching her round baby cheek. Her little face is dusky and flushed, and her eyes are tightly sealed shut. She’s perfect, though, right down to her teeny tiny tail. Her small hand grips my finger as she nurses, and I notice she’s got four fingers. I count her toes and she has three toes. Huh. It just makes her more perfect in my eyes.

I’m biased, but she’s the prettiest, healthiest, sweetest baby that’s been born yet. I can’t wait to show her to my mate.

Of course, my mate thinks I hate him right now. Guilt rushes through me. I hate that I hurt him. I hate that pregnant-and-panicky-Georgie turns into such a crankmonster. He deserves better than me.

Maylak gets up a short time later. Her face is drawn and she’s clearly exhausted. “I’ll return in the morning and coax your khui into more healing.”

Morning? Is it night? It’s impossible to tell in the cave depths. All I know is that I’m tired, but utterly blissful. “Thank you, Maylak.”

She smiles at me, touches my arm, and then leaves the cave.

I’m alone…with Talie. My baby’s here, and she’s more than I ever dreamed of. I keep holding her and holding her, counting tiny fingers and toes and picking out all the ways she’s like me (my nose, my hair, my fingers) and the ways she’s like Vektal (everything else). She’s sleeping peacefully, curled up against my bare breast, and I want her to stay right there forever, snuggled against me.

Someone enters the cave, breaking our little cocoon of happiness. I look up, and it’s Vektal.

My mate. My love.

And I’ve been such a dick to him.

Hot tears immediately start to flood down my face. “She’s here,” I tell him, between blubbering. “She’s here and she’s perfect and I’m a jerk.”

He moves to the edge of the furs, where I’m bundled up with Talie. There’s an expression of wonder on his face as he gazes at us. The baby burbles, spits a little breast milk, and then goes back to sleep. I wipe her tiny face with a bit of leather and then swaddle her again. Vektal watches her and then his gaze meets mine. “Can I hold her?”

Oh. Wow, I really am a jerk. I didn’t even offer, and she’s his, too. I hold the baby out to him, even though every bit of me screams that I want to keep her in my arms, like a greedy child with a toy. “Support her head,” I say as he takes her in his arms. I don’t know why I’m being so paranoid - the way he holds her is perfect. He cradles Talie’s tiny body in his big hands and gazes down at her with an expression akin to reverence.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispers. He pulls her closer to his chest, holding her against him like she’s the most precious thing on the planet. Heck, she is. The look he gives me is soft with wonder and adoration. “You’ve done well, my mate.”

I start to cry all over again, because he’s being so nice and I was so awful to him earlier. “I didn’t mean what I said,” I tell him between sobs. “I love being here with you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You and our baby. I’ve never regretted a moment of landing here. I—“

The baby stirs, and Vektal gives her a little jiggle to comfort her, shushing and humming as he does. A moment later, the baby settles down again. He grins at me, and hands her back. I take her, surprised that he’s returning her so quickly, especially when he’s clearly good with babies.

He crawls into the furs next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders, hugging me against him. “Are you worried over what you said to me earlier?”

I sniff, because the tears threaten to return. “I didn’t mean it. Any of it. There was just weird stuff happening with the birth and I didn’t want you to see me in pain and so I just said whatever I could to get you out of the room.”

“Why did you not want me there?” His big hand squeezes my shoulder. “I am your mate. I should be at your side at all times, especially when you are hurting.”

I swallow back my words. Truth is, I didn’t know if I’d live through the next day, if they couldn’t get my baby out. I wanted Vektal to remember me happy and healthy, not screaming in pain and with Tiffany’s hand shoved up my girl parts. After a long time, I say, “It just wasn’t my best moment. Please don’t think I hate you or this place. I love you. Even if I could go home, I would stay here with you. I meant none of it.”

“Of course you didn’t, my mate.” Vektal gently brushes the tears from my cheeks. “You were stressed and our kit was arriving. You were in pain. You said things you did not mean. I never thought for a moment that your words were truth.”

He’s not holding it against me? I am the luckiest woman alive. “I love you so much,” I tell him, the knot in my throat enormous. “You’re my world.”

He caresses my cheek and I know I’m forgiven. I tuck my head against his shoulder and we are calm and quiet, watching our new baby sleep. He strokes my cheek absently, and neither of us speaks for a long time.

Talie wrinkles her nose and screws her face up as if she’s going to wail. I hold my breath and her little fists fly in the air. Then, she lets out a loud fart and settles down again. Babies. Even when they make gross noises, they’re adorable.

Vektal takes her from my arms again and holds her close. “She’s beautiful,” he murmurs. “Just like her mother.” Just as I get all weepy again, he lifts her tiny hand and she wraps four itty bitty fingers around his big blue one.

I totally melt.

“What did you name her?” he asks.

“Talie,” I say softly. “For Vektal and Georgie. It’s the last part of both of our names.” Mine’s actually Georgina, but no one ever calls me that.

“I never thought it would be a girl,” he muses as he holds her tiny hand. “But now that she is here, I cannot imagine anything else.”

I lean against him, tired but happy. “Pretty wonderful, isn’t it?”

“She is.” He kisses my head. “You are, too.” When I rest my head against him again, he sighs.

“What?” I ask, curious.

“I am not convinced these human holidays are worth it.” He gestures at our small cave, still leaf-strewn from his earlier efforts. “Look at all the work I did, and not a single kiss on my cock from my mate.”

My snort of derision turns into giggles, and I punch him in the side. “Your mate was a little busy today.”

“So she was.” He grins, and I realize he was teasing.

A
few days
later after Talie was born, Nora, Dagesh, Vektal, Georgie, and a party of several hunters leave to go hunt the sa-kohtsk for the three babies. They will be gone for a few days, and our ‘holiday’ has already gone on for a while. It’s decided that while they’re gone, we’re to finish the celebration with a feast and gift-giving, and Harlow will work on using her stone-cutter since the newborns won’t be home.

I’ll be sad when the holiday celebration ends for a variety of reasons. It’s been fun, and I’ve enjoyed the daily soccer matches between the big, hulking sa-khui hunters who seem to think it’s a full-contact sport. They’re beautiful to watch, though, because they’re utterly graceful as they move. And okay, they’re also nearly naked and muscular. It’s not exactly a chore, and Tiffany, Josie, and I spend a lot of time outside snacking on cooked hraku seeds and watching on the sidelines.

There’s been a joyous spirit in the caves recently, thanks to the holiday celebration. People are laughing more, playing more, and little Esha and Sessah - the only small children - have been receiving daily presents that make both squeal with glee. Farli’s older than them, but she gets presents from her parents, and she’s equally pleased (if quieter about it).

Today is official ‘celebration and feast’ day, and then the day after tomorrow, the tribe will split again and everyone in Aehako’s cave will begin the journey home. I’m not looking forward to that. My stuff’s still in Bek’s cave, but I could care less about a few furs and some woven baskets. I can move back into the bachelorette cave with Tiffany and Josie. When we get home, there won’t be any excuses for me to avoid talking to Bek, though. There will be no soccer games to watch, no Christmas carol sing alongs, no root-cakes made like latkes to include Nora. Things will go back to their normal quiet. Even if Harlow manages to open up several caves, there will be lots of rock to clear out, and no one will be ready to move in for a few months.

Worst of all? Ereven lives in Vektal’s cave and I don’t.

It’s weird how we’ve only been here for about a week and I already am dreading leaving him behind. Fact is, I love being around him. Ereven’s thoughtful and witty. He makes clever comments that tell me there’s a lot going on underneath that calm expression. He sometimes skips playing soccer and lounges near me while I hang out with Tiffany and Josie, and his hand goes around my leg, casually possessive. Just that small touch makes me feel all flushed and excited.

He hasn’t tried to kiss me again. Or nuzzle me. Or anything. I find myself praying for a few stolen moments where we might find each other alone and I can fling my arms around him and see if he wants to kiss me back. But I’m not quite that brave, and we never seem to be alone. Someone’s always nearby.

Like right now. Stacy, our cook, has made herself in charge of the latkes for our feast, even though Nora is with the sa-kohtsk hunt. Ereven has brought in a few plump scythe-beaks to act as our ‘turkeys’ and Megan and I have been working on plucking and then stuffing them with some of the endless piles of herbs that have appeared in the caves the last few days. Ereven lingered for a few minutes, but when it was obvious we’d get no alone time, he headed off to join into the day’s soccer match.

I try to hide my disappointment. It’s too early for me to be in another relationship. Then I remember that it’s not a real relationship, and I feel even worse. I have a crush on a guy that’s just pretending to like me. I’m such a sad sack. I should be all happy and independent, but all I can think about is Ereven and how nice he is, and how good he looks when he smiles.

“So are you giving any presents out?” Josie asks me as she yanks a handful of feathers from the fat dead bird-thing on her lap. Scythe-beaks aren’t exactly birds like we think of them on Earth, but they’re close enough and have feathers, so they’re birds in my mind. Besides, calling them cat-lizard-bird-things is tough, especially when my brain keeps trying to determine what part of the genetic jigsaw is what. ‘Bird’ just seems easiest. And tastiest.

“Me?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, the bird in your lap. Hey bird, are you giving out any presents today?”

“I’m going to wallop you with this bird,” I tease her. “And…maybe.”

“Ooooh. For Ereven?” She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “I’ve seen you two getting cozy a lot. And you eat him up with your eyes every time he comes around.”

“I do not!” The hot blush on my cheeks says otherwise, though. Am I so obvious about the fact that I’m crazy-attracted to him? We’ve been keeping our fake relationship low key (except when Bek is around) but I’m oddly pleased that others have noticed. Truth is, I have been working on a gift for Ereven. I stayed up late last night to finish it. His cloak is warm but worn, and the hood on it is worn and tattered. I’ve made him a new one with a thick fur lining, cut-outs for his horns, and a bit of decorated stitching around the edge. It’s not much, but I don’t have much. I feel weird discussing it around Josie, so I change the subject back to her. “You get any presents?”

“Me? No. Tiff’s busy racking up all the men in the tribe.” She grins. “I think at last count, her suitor list is up to four. Maybe five.”

“Poor thing,” I drawl.

Josie giggles. “Right? You’d think it’s the worst thing in the world the way she’s acting. She’s hiding out with Maylak right now, going out to pick herbs. Like we don’t have enough herbs?” She gestures at the overflowing bowl at her side. She’s right, we have more than enough. “It’s just so she can get out and hide for a few hours.”

“What about Haeden?” I ask. I remember him knocking down Rokan in the soccer match.

“Giving me a present? Girl, please.” Josie snorts and viciously rips another handful of feathers from her bird. “The only present I could see that man giving me is a bag of flaming poo. You know we hate each other, right?”

“Mmmhmm.” They do seem quite vocal about it. Still, I think there’s something there. They profess to hate each other but seem to end up in the other’s company quite a bit.

“Seriously. I hate the guy and he hates me.” She plucks another feather. “I think if we ended up resonating, it’d be the end of the world or something.”

I say nothing, because I know that feeling. It’s how I feel when I think of what would happen if I resonated to Bek. I’m lucky that for whatever reason, my khui hasn’t kicked in and made me resonate. Maybe it’s just being choosier than most. Maybe it knows that Bek is bad for me.

Maybe the darn thing’s better at relationships than I am. I denude my bird of feathers as Josie chatters on and on about how irritating Haeden is. I listen to her talk, murmuring an acknowledgment every now and then. I finish my bird, help her finish hers, and then we rub them down with fat, stuff them with herbs, and spit them over the fire pit to slow roast. By the time we’re done, we’re both messy and gross.

“Ugh, I need soap,” Josie comments, wiping her hands on her dirty tunic. “And I’m out. Let me go check storage for some berries.”

“I’ll wait here,” I tell her, slowly turning one of the spits so the birds can brown evenly on both sides. The sa-khui don’t care for cooked meat, but they’re curious about our holiday meals. There’s going to be so much scythe-beak that everyone’s going to get a taste. Nearby, Stacy is cooking root-latke after root-latke in her greased makeshift skillet. They must be good, because every so often, little Esha toddles in and asks for one.

There’s no sign of Ereven in the caves, so he must be outside playing more soccer. I think about him, his sweaty hair clinging to his neck, and feel the oddest shiver of desire ripple through me. Wow. I haven’t had sex in months - good sex in a lot, lot longer - and I’m surprised at the force of my need. Bek was all right at first, but the moment I moved into his cave, he stopped trying and the sex got abrupt and unsatisfying. The other women go on and on about their mates and their spurs, but maybe Bek’s deficient in that area, because all it ever did was jab me in uncomfortable places. I wonder about Ereven’s spur. Then I feel a bit like a perv for thinking about it.

We’re just friends and he’s doing me a favor. I’m crazy to torture myself like this. In two days, I’m going back to my cave and he’s staying here. Who knows when we’ll see each other again?

Harlow’s cutter starts up, a high pitched whine that soon turns louder and louder. Rukh stalks out of the cave with baby Rukhar cradled against his chest, the baby’s ears covered with fur mufflers. The incessant drone of the cutter seems to get louder and louder, the sound becoming more grating as it cuts into rock. I grit my teeth and give the scythe-beaks on the spit another turn. Stacy looks over at me and says something, but I can’t hear her. I tap my ear to indicate it, and she rolls her eyes and waves a hand, telling me never mind.

Something appears out of the corner of my eye. It’s so loud in the cavern that I didn’t hear the person approach, and I jump, startled.

It’s a necklace. Pretty bones have been bleached and dyed and carved into different shapes, then strung on a leather cord. It’s beautiful. The hand that holds it, though?

Bek.

My stomach knots unhappily. I look at the necklace and feel a lot of guilt. It clearly took him a lot of time. He wants me back. That’s obvious. But I feel so much better without him that I know I can’t, no matter how guilty I feel at the thought of hurting him. I need to talk to him and get everything out in the open. He’s not a bad man. I know he’s not. He’s just high-strung and overbearing, and I’m such a wuss that I’m the last person he should be with.

So I touch his arm and point at the cave entrance. We can talk outside, where we should be able to hear ourselves think.

He offers me the necklace once more.

Again, I ignore it. Instead, I get to my feet, wipe my hands off on a thin leather towel, and then head out. I look behind me to see if he’s following, and he is, but there’s a fierce frown on his face that doesn’t bode well.

Yeah, I’m guessing he doesn’t want to hear a break-up conversation. I mentally steel myself. Too bad, because he’s going to have one. I walk out at his side. In moments, we’re out in the crunching snow, and as always, the brisk air takes my breath away. Even with the twin suns up, it’s still bitterly cold on the ice planet. Always. Nearby, there’s a game of soccer going on, and Farli flings herself at old Vadren, trying to distract him away from kicking the next goal. Ereven’s out on the field with the others, laughing. Most of the fit hunters are out on the sa-kohtsk hunt, and the field is populated with the elderly and the few tribal women. There’re a few men that have lingered behind - Bek, obviously, and Ereven, though I’m puzzled as to why he stayed. Maybe he’s more into the holiday spirit than I realized and wanted to celebrate more than hunt.

We head along the cliff wall, staying out of the wind, until we’re a good distance away from both soccer players and the cave entrance. Out here, Harlow’s cutter is only an annoying hum, not an ear-splitting screech. On a distant ridge, I see Rukh walking, his son cradled against his chest, keeping him away from the noise as well. I’m not dressed for the cold, wearing only a loose leather tunic and leggings, but I’m hoping this won’t take long. And if it does, I have a good excuse to go inside.

I cross my arms over my chest and look at Bek. “We need to talk.”

He holds the necklace out to me. “I worked many hours on this.”

“And it’s very pretty. You’re really talented.” I gentle my voice to hide my annoyance, and push it back toward him. “But I can’t take it from you. I don’t want to be with you anymore. Please understand. I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just…not wanting the same things out of the relationship that you do.”

Bek scowls. He flings the necklace into the snow. “You are my mate—“

“I’m not,” I butt in. “We never resonated. I doubt we ever will. There’s nothing that ties us together except shared living quarters and feelings, and right now there are neither.”

“You are being impossible,” he snarls, looming closer. “Is this another one of your human rituals that I am not understanding? Are you saying this to anger me?”

I refuse to back down. He can growl and stalk all he wants, but I’m not going back to him. “I’m trying to be nice about this, Bek. We are still part of the same tribe and that’s not changing. I just don’t want to be your fur-warmer anymore, okay? Let’s be honest with each other. You don’t want me, either. You find me annoying. You think I’m useless. You hate it when I cry. There’s a long list of things I do that annoy you. I think you just don’t want to lose me because having a mate is some sort of pride thing. But we’re really not good for each other, I promise you.” Gosh, I’m talking so much I’m sounding like Josie. “Can’t we just agree to part as friends and not make this hard?”

“I am not your friend,” Bek sneers. “I am your mate, and you are mine.” He leans closer, and he’s practically got me pinned against the rock wall. My heart starts to hammer, anxiety ratcheting through me. Bek leans in --

And then is shoved viciously aside.

Ereven’s there, standing over Bek, who’s fallen into the snow. His normally calm face is full of fury, and his lips are pulled back in a snarl, revealing sharp fangs.

“She said no, Bek. Leave her alone.”

Bek slowly picks himself up off the ground, glaring at Ereven as if he’s the problem and not me. “I see she has already moved on to another’s furs. You think she won’t tire of you like she did me, Ereven?”

I laugh. Both men turn to look at me, but I can’t help it. The idea strikes me as completely ludicrous. Even though I haven’t been close with Ereven for long, I’ve seen his good heart. I know he’d never try to grind me down like Bek has. With Bek, all the signals were there, but I willfully ignored them, believing that I needed safety more than love.

Now that I’m safe, I want more.

Bek scowls at my laughter. I try to stop it, but my heart’s racing as if I’ve just ran miles. I’m pretty sure my feet haven’t moved an inch, though. It just pounds and pounds, and I put a hand to my breast, willing myself to calm down. Bek has the picture now. I can see it on his face. Ereven’s made it clear he won’t let me be messed with, and Bek only likes to bully those who don’t stand up for themselves.