There is sand all over my arms and chest, and my legs. It’s even in the tangle of woven braids that Har-loh has made out of my mane. She steps forward and dusts me off with her small fingers.
And then she stops. Her fingers twitch on my arm, and then her nails dig in to my skin.
I look up into her face. She is pale, her freckles dark against her cheeks.
“What is it?”
Her mouth thins into a line, and she nods over my shoulder. She casts me a worried look and then squeezes my arm. “Don’t freekowt.”
She slips into her language when she is worried, sometimes, and when I don’t recognize the word, my senses tingle with alarm. I turn, determined not to ‘freek’ and look.
Our beach is surrounded by rocky, high cliffs. High up a distant one, there are things moving. At first I think they are metlak, the lanky, hairy creatures of the mountains. But this is not their territory, and as I watch them move, my heart fills with dread. One is carrying a spear, and I can see horns on another. There are many of them.
The bad ones.
They’ve found us.
Chapter Seven
HARLOW
The sight of the people on the ridge fills me more annoyance than worry. Why do they have to show up now? I don’t want company. I’m pregnant, cranky, swollen, and the last thing I want is the careful nest we’ve been building for so long interrupted by unexpected visitors.
Rukh, however, reacts very differently than I do.
The breath hisses out of his throat and he grabs my hand. He hauls me forward, dropping spear and clam on the sand, forgotten, and races toward our cave. I put a hand to my belly and try to follow after him, but running with a baby belly? Not that easy. I take a few steps and then pull my hand from his, wheezing. My lower back feels like it’s on fire and that horrible cramp on the right side of my abdomen is returning. “Rukh, wait,” I gasp. “I can’t run—“
Instead of calming down, he grabs me and lifts me into his arms, and continues to race toward the cave as if the beach were on fire.
I cling to his neck, worried he’s going to drop me. I want to reason with him, but I’ve seen this wild look in his eyes once before. When he sees the other aliens, there is no reasoning with him. He loses control.
Thank goodness we make it back to the cave in one piece. I release the breath I’m holding as he gently sets me down on the floor onto my feet. Rukh touches my cheek. “Stay here, Har-loh. If the bad ones come, hide.”
The ‘bad ones’ is his name for the tribe. I have no idea why they’re bad in his eyes. He has memories of his father telling him to avoid them, to hide from them, because they were ‘bad’， and that is the only knowledge he has of them. Other than me, and worrying they’re going to take me away. My own experience with them was good, but then I remember Aehako, Haeden, and Kira, all dead. They won’t like to see me alive after all this time and with their tribemates dead. It worries me.
But I don’t want Rukh going after them, either. There’s more of them than us. I hold on to his arm to try and stop him. “Wait. Where are you going?”
“I go try lead away from you. Will trick. Hide path to cave.” He pulls his bone knife from the sheath on the wall and looks around for his spear, except it’s still on the beach. I move forward and give him mine, because the thought of him leaving with little to defend himself scares me more than being here without a weapon.
They’re not our enemies, I remind myself. But a year has passed, and a lot can happen in a year. My belly and Rukh’s language skills are a testament to that.
He gazes down at me, and there’s such softness and love in his eyes that my lower lip trembles.
Everything’s going to change after this moment. We’ve been so happy…I’m afraid it’s going to be ruined.
“Don’t cry, beebee,” he says, breaking into English in an imitation of my words.
“Please be careful.” I want to grab handfuls of his hair and hold him back, but I can’t. The tribe is here, and they must be here for a reason. “Just…whatever you do, stay calm, okay? Listen to what they say and don’t attack first. Promise me.”
He nods and gives me a quick, fierce kiss. “I will be as the shadows. They will not see me.”
“Mmm.” I’m not sure I believe that, but I trust him, and I feel better when he moves to one of the storage baskets I have neatly lining our cave and pulls out his white fur cloak. It will hide him amongst the snow like camouflage.
Then he’s gone, heading out the cave entrance, and I fight the urge to panic. Instead, I stay busy. I put out the fire （lest the tendrils of smoke bring curious wanderers）， straighten the cave, sharpen my small knife, eat a bit of meat, rub my belly, and wait.