Challenged (Mates for the Raskarrans #8)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Rardek

D espite the cold, I am sweating by the time we arrive back at the fire. The knowledge we hold has burned at our spirits, driving us to run hard. I bend over, bracing myself on my knees as I draw air deep into my lungs, trying to catch my breath. As my heartspace slows enough to allow for speaking, I rise, words ready to pour out of my mouth.

But there are two faces I was not expecting to see at the fire, and the sight halts the words at the end of my tongue. Anghar and Paskar, prepping two frenelles. They both grin broadly when they see Jaskry and me, rising to greet us. Despite the forest’s troubles, my heartspace lifts to see them.

“They said you were out on hunting rounds,” Anghar says, coming to my side and gripping my arm in greeting. “What have you got to add to our catch?”

I feel Jaskry tighten next to me.

“I am afraid we return empty-handed,” I say, feigning shame. “Good that you arrived with gifts to save us from the drudgery of meal bars.”

Paskar shakes his head, but Anghar is no fool. His eyes narrow, and I nod, letting him know that there is more to what I am saying. His eyes flick to the trees, and I wonder how much he has noticed. The lack of animal sounds? The rot itself?

“These we caught yesterday,” he says, gesturing to the frenelles. “But no one was much in the mood for cooking. It was a long day of travelling and we did not have the energy or patience for building a fire and prepping a fresh kill. We were all to our beds early, ready to be up early today. The females, particularly, long for the walking to be over.”

“How far behind are Vantos and everyone else?” I ask.

“They should arrive midday tomorrow. He sent us ahead so that any preparations might be made for the waking of the females to start. As eager as we have been to arrive and rest our aching feet, Vantos is twice as eager to be away from this place again.”

There is some amusement in Anghar’s expression, but he glances at the Mercenia hut, and I think his heartspace is more in line with Vantos’ than not.

“Perhaps when he samples our marvellous hospitality, he might change his mind,” I say.

At the fire, Larzon snorts. “Hospitality? It is them who bring us meals while you two return with nothing.”

There is a sharpness to his tone, but Larzon no longer has the power to strike at anyone’s heartspace. We have all learned not to take him too seriously, despite how very seriously he is inclined to take himself.

“It is a very fine sort of nothing, though, do you not think?” I say, pretending to show it to him. I know I should not, but I find poking him a little too much fun. Larzon’s expression twists into a snarl and he takes a breath to speak.

“We have food enough to feed everyone,” Anghar says, smoothing the conversation out with his warm tone. “Would you aid us with the preparations, Rardek, Jaskry?”

Jaskry takes up a seat and pulls his knives out of his pack, ready. I incline my head in apology.

“I am afraid I have words I must speak with our chief,” I say. “Is he here or out on patrols?”

“Liv, Lorna and Brooks have gone down to the pod room to discuss preparations for Vantos’ arrival,” Anghar says. “Their mates have gone with them.”

“To protect their linashas from sleeping females?”

Anghar chuckles. “Or to protect them from the ill feeling the Mercenia hut inspires in us, not them.” He glances at the hut once more. “I am no better. I find myself very glad that my Ellie remains safe in our village, despite how my heartspace yearns to be near to her.”

I grip his shoulder - a pale sort of comfort to offer a male so far from his linasha’s side, but it is all I have.

“I will speak with Gregar now, then,” I say, then gesture to the half-prepared frenelles. “Once the message is delivered, I will return to assist.”

“With watching the food cook?” Paskar says, shooting me a smirk.

“My favourite part of food preparation,” I retort with a small bow.

The others laugh, including Anghar, which pleases me. Always it has been my gift - to play the fool and make others laugh. Laughter is a vital balm to the spirit, and never a more important one than when we lived without hope for a future. We have our sisters now, younglings on the way. We have hope again. But laughter can still ease the burden of worry, and we have plenty of that resting on our shoulders right now.

And I am about to add more to Gregar’s already considerable load.

The cold feels deeper the moment I step inside the Mercenia hut. The entrance is propped open with a stone, but the natural light of the sun only penetrates into the hut so far. As soon as I lose the feeling of it on my skin, a chill seeps into my bones. It is as much the unsettling feeling the Mercenia hut inspires as it is the temperature. Dazzik is a lucky male to have the irrepressible Sam as his linasha. I do not think his spirit would have endured staying here so long if he did not have hers keeping him lifted.

The sunlight is gone entirely as I start the climb down to the level with the pod room, the false light that glows from the ceilings replacing it. It is a strange sort of light that the humans make in their huts. It washes the colour out of skin, casts dark shadows everywhere. My eyes dislike it, and spending much time beneath it makes my headspace throb.

But the light in the pod room is stranger still. Each of the pods has bright spots shining from it in an array of different colours. They flicker on and off, or pulse in a steady rhythm, making it seem like there is movement in the room when there is not. My hunter’s senses snag on every shifting shadow, expecting to spy some creature darting between hiding spaces. I have to turn my senses off, or else I will grow exhausted.

At the centre of the room, Liv, Lorna and Brooks are deep in discussion. They have already had many discussions about the waking of the females and I wonder what there is left to go over. But hunters often talk tirelessly of the same plans, fixing them in our headspaces and assuring ourselves and each other that we know the shape of them perfectly. Perhaps it is just this sort of thing that the females engage in now. Meanwhile, in the deeper shadows at the edges of the room, their mates lurk. Gregar paces back and forth, his agitation buzzing around him like a swarm of erastas. Shemza holds himself tight and tense, waiting, I expect, to hear what his part in all of this will be.

Only my brother looks relaxed, grown accustomed to being in the pod room after spending so much time in here watching his linasha in her frozen sleep. He watches her still now, his expression full of softness. Words line up on my tongue to tease him about it, but I do not speak them. I am still too glad to see him broken free of the shame and misery he felt over his involvement with Sam’s abduction. Brooks has been good for his spirit, and seeing it is good for mine.

“Tomorrow the waking starts, then,” I say instead, gripping both Maldek and Shemza’s shoulders as I approach them.

“Not soon enough,” Gregar grumbles. I decide not to make mention of how similar he sounds to Larzon in this moment.

“It sounds as though Vantos could not have arrived any quicker,” I say.

Gregar inclines his head in acknowledgement. “His thoughts form the same shape as mine, I suspect.”

“The sooner we can get done here, the sooner we can all be home?” I arch a brow, letting a little tease into my tone. “I do not think there is a male here whose thoughts do not take that shape.”

Embarrassment creeps into Gregar’s expression. “You are all just better at managing your feelings about it.”

“Or we have less obvious tells,” Shemza says, his lips twitching.

“I should cultivate a less obvious one,” Gregar says, grimacing. “My Liv does not appreciate the pacing.”

“Do not worry,” I say, grinning. “When Vantos arrives tomorrow, he will soon remind your Liv how very lucky she is to have you in her dreams.”

Shemza chuckles, and Gregar manages a wry grin. Vantos has always taken his warrior’s duties very seriously, but never more so than now with a linasha in his dreams and a youngling on the way. I think any of the other females would have found his attentions suffocating, but Rachel bears them all with grace.

“How have you fared on your hunt?” Gregar asks.

I open my mouth to answer, but before I can, Liv speaks.

“ Weshudwaykewun. Jusswun.”

My understanding of the human words is no better than any other raskarran. Our headspaces do not take to them so well, their meanings slipping away like vetti eels. So I do not know what my chieftess is saying, but there is something about her tone that stills me. That stills all of us. We turn as one to look at the females again.

There is a discussion back and forth between Brooks and Liv. Gregar’s expression twists as he tries to understand Liv’s words. The dreamspace can do much, but sometimes our experiences are too different for understanding to come easily.

“She wishes to wake one of the females. So they have been through the process once before the others arrive tomorrow. So they know what to expect.”

Shemza nods. “It is probably sensible. We do not yet know if all will be affected in their memories as Brooks was, or if that was just a result of her method of awakening.”

“We do not know if they know where they are as Brooks did, also,” Maldek says. “It will be a very different sort of care they will need if they do not know of other worlds and Lina’s forest.”

Liv steps up to one of the pods , arms folded above the curve of her belly. She takes a breath, then nods. Brooks steps up beside her.

“ Sorry ,” she says, talking to the frozen female inside the pod , her tone and expression suggesting this word is an apology.

Shemza gestures for us to step back, and we do so without argument or question. We are no use to proceedings, having none of Shemza’s healing skills. But even if Shemza was not a skilled healer, he has an easy sort of goodness to him. If this female is to look upon a raskarran face for the first time when she wakes, Shemza’s is probably the best choice.

Maldek and I stop when we reach deep enough shadows as to not be easily seen from the pods . Gregar retreats into the furthest corner to resume his pacing. I realise as he goes that I have not yet given him my message, the words I need to speak to him lost among the flashing lights and the promise of a female soon to be awoken.

After, I think. After, I will tell him what he needs to know.

I doubt I could speak the words properly if I tried to now.

I doubt even more that he could listen.

Brooks presses on the pod , some strange noises issuing from it. Then, with a hiss and a groan, the pod shifts, going from standing up to lying down. When it stops moving, Brooks goes to touch the pod again, but she hesitates, her hand hovering over the surface. Maldek steps up next to her, giving her shoulder a brief squeeze. Bolstered by his support, Brooks turns to the other females.

“ Okay. Reddy? ”

Lorna looks to Shemza. He nods to his linasha.

“ Weereddy ,” Lorna says.

Brooks turns to the pod and presses on it a few more times. Then she steps back as it makes a sharp, unnatural noise that sounds in time with a new red flashing. I tense, even though the females do not seem alarmed by this. The brightness of the flashing, the ear aching tone of the noise - it all itches at the instinctive part of my heartspace that wishes we could just leave this whole place far behind us. Gregar’s jaw clenches tight enough to crack teeth.

Then, as abruptly as it started, the noise stops. The red flashing turns to a gentler green colour. Brooks nods, satisfaction in the set of her shoulders. There is a long moment where nothing appears to be happening, then another hiss sounds and this time it is accompanied by some sort of smoke blowing into the air as the front of the pod begins to open.

A chill unlike any I have ever felt before steals over my skin. Not an emotional chill - a physical one. The smoke billowing from the pod is bitingly cold, nipping at every piece of exposed flesh I have. Even the females rub at their arms, shivers going through them. Gregar looks ready to throw Liv over his shoulder and carry her away from the pods but, showing enormous restraint, he only clenches his fists and snarls.

Slowly, the smoke clears, and the sleeping female is revealed. Her perfect stillness sets a new sort of uneasiness in my heartspace. Her chest does not rise and fall, no breath entering her body. There is a shimmer to her skin, her colour like that of a very pale sky. Humans have a wider variety of skin tones than raskarrans, so what is natural is not so easy to assess, but nothing about this female looks natural at this moment.

We wait as the pod flashes and hisses and lets out more smoke. Light shines from inside it, pulsing and moving. Gradually, the shimmer fades from the female’s skin, and a more familiar tan colour emerges from underneath it. My heartspace thunders in my chest, louder and stronger with every passing moment. Looking at my brothers, they are caught in the same grim fascination as I am - horror written plain on their faces, even as they fail to tear their eyes away.

Only Brooks watches proceedings with a kind of indifference. I look to her manner for reassurance. She has seen this process before. Has lived through it herself. There is a tension in her shoulders, but it is the tension of performing a difficult task for the first time. There is no panic, no fear in her eyes. If she is not concerned, then things must be progressing as they should.

Sure enough, she turns to my brother, giving him a beaming smile and the thumbs up gesture. Maldek nods, then retreats, coming to stand beside me. Shemza also moves back, though he stays closer, ready to step in should his healing skills be required.

I turn my attention back to the frozen female. Looking at her face is too much while she remains unmoving, so I look at her chest, willing it to start rising and falling. For breath to fill her lungs and life to fill the rest of her. It is hard to tell how long I watch. It feels like a whole season passes, but I realise I am holding my breath in anticipation, and so it cannot be more than a few moments.

Then, abruptly, almost violently, the female’s body jolts, the pod making some new loud noise. Her whole torso lifts, holds in place, then falls back down. Soft lips part, and, at long last, she takes a deep, gasping breath.