Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
A really muscular, really hairy human.
I meet the stranger’s gaze and realize he’s about my age. His eyes widen as he looks at me…and keeps looking. And looking. I’m guessing he’s never seen a human before. His color ripples as our eyes meet, and I’m reminded of the islanders, who lose control of their camouflage when they get nervous.
“What do you think, Rem’eb the Fist?” the second man calls out from the doorway. He won’t enter, won’t even look in this direction. I’m guessing that he’s not allowed to look at me, which only makes me more nervous.
The one standing in front of me blinks. He must be Rem’eb. One hand reaches up to rub his jaw, and his lips part as he stares at me as if he cannot believe what he’s seeing. If he’s startled to see me, he must not have been the one that kidnapped me. The moniker “The Fist” is a little alarming, though. I’m not going to relax my guard just yet.
The Fist guy finally answers, clearing his throat before speaking. “She…she is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.”
Oh.
Well.
I might be an idiot, because it’s hard not to be somewhat flattered by that awed tone of voice.
Chapter
Three
REM’EB THE FIST
Earlier
I sling my sack of fishing tackle over my shoulder as I head through the streets of the Village of Those Who Remain, humming to myself. I like fishing. It allows me to collect my thoughts as I work to provide food for our people, and the sight of the huge underground lake always fills me with internal peace.
It’s a peace I could use after the last while.
No sooner do I step onto the cobbled path toward the lake than Tan’zor the Careful jogs toward me, his path straight as a dart. “There you are. Your father is looking for you.”
I bite back a groan. Being summoned to the chief’s side is never a good thing, even for his only son. “Surely not today? I have done my duty at the outposts. In fact, I just got back.” I slow my steps, setting the butt of my long, thin fishing rod on the ground as I stop to talk to my friend. “Tell my father I am going fishing.”
Tan’zor shakes his head. “That’s not what this is about. He said it’s urgent.”
Urgent, eh? My father thinks that everything is urgent and must be obeyed immediately since he is chief, but rarely does he use such words with me. The look on Tan’zor’s face is grave, and if my old friend is not willing to joke about my father’s usual demanding ways, then this must be something different. “Do you know what this is?”
“He will not say.”
“Is it the rebels?” I lower my voice even as I speak the words aloud, as if eyes are watching us from the shadows. They likely are. Rebels seem to be everywhere lately. No wonder my father is so worked up lately. Bel’eb the Mighty has been less Mighty and more anxious as of late.
Tan’zor’s expression is grim. “He will not speak of it. Your father is acting very secretive. I can get nothing from him.”
Strange, considering that everyone gets along well with Tan’zor. Sometimes I think my father likes him more than he likes me. “All right then, my friend. I will change my plans.” I offer him my fishing rod, and when he declines with a grin, I’m surprised. “Are you coming with me?”
“If I may. I am extremely curious about all of this.”
So am I.
We turn and head back through the sprawl of the village. Tan’zor the Careful’s steps are jaunty, but I am more pensive. Our home has been troubled for some time, and it seems that every day that passes brings new worries. We should be in a good place, our people. The terrible sickness that killed so many has been dormant for many turns now. Our food is plentiful, our gardens blooming. The living mountain is quiet with no rumblings in its belly.
But as I walk, I see males talking, their heads down. I see secrets being shared. I see resentment.
Something must change. But what?
As is custom, when we get to the wall, we pause. I let Tan’zor the Careful go first, waiting for him to get several steps ahead of me before proceeding. I walk slowly, holding my breath, hoping to hear the khui in my chest come to life. On the other side of the wall, kept safe, are the remaining females of our people. They can no longer mingle with the males for their own protection, and only resonance will allow us to spend a short time with them.
But resonance means a family. Children. It means that our line will continue.
My khui remains silent, and just like every other time, I am tempted to turn around and walk past the long, winding wall again, just to see if anything changes. I suspect every male feels like this. The guard posted at this end of the wall—Je’lef the Stoic—gives me a small nod, as if acknowledging my disappointment.