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“It’s everyone,” he says at last and shrugs. “She is someone.”
Khiara growls and shakes his head, making the bangles binding his hair rattle. Around us people, young and old, injured and not are shuffling away, all heading in the same direction. The cloud of dust that fills the air gives the entire scene have an air of unreality.
What am I doing? This is crazy.
“I can go back to the house,” I offer. “Lock me in like you’ve done before.”
I may find Khiara frustrating but he’s not unkind or mean. Intentionally at least and I know it. I’ve also come to know him to some degree or another. I’m fairly confident I can read his face anyway and what I see is concern. Concern and if I am being boldly honest, a hint of fear.
Fear is one thing I don’t think any of these Urr’ki warriors would ever admit to feeling, but I’ve seen it too often on too many of these people. Every citizen, that isn’t a Maulavi, has a haunted visage that only appears when they think no one is looking.
Khiara grunts as he looks over at the house with what I can only define as a longing. The peal of the gong echoes through the streets once more. The crowd around us is thinning even as is the dust on the air. Khiara turns his back on the house and he has a look that is a strange mix of reluctant and resigned.
“Come,” he says, putting his hand on my arm.
Dilacs, acting on some unspoken exchange between the brothers, does the same on my opposite side. Their hands are almost as wide as my entire bicep. Their large fingers close around my arms but I don’t feel trapped, it’s protective. Comforting.
And taking comfort any chance you get is the only way to stay sane.
That’s a lesson I learned after the crash. Comfort, true comfort, is a thing that is rare enough to be treasured. I am pretty sure every human survivor on Tajss knows this feeling. Our lives have been a tempest since the moment our generation ship was attacked. This is only the latest series of events and this time I happen to be in the middle of them.
We join the crowd of people. I don’t know where we’re going but the boys are my guides and protectors. I know them well enough now to know they will do whatever they can to protect me. As long as the Maulavi are not after me, but even then they did what they could to keep them from being too rough with me.
Even thinking of the Maulavi causes a chill to race over my skin and a wave of nausea. I don’t know what is happening with the other girls, but they’ve come at me so many times and their threats kept getting worse and worse. Terror is not a strong enough word for how they were making me feel and then they suddenly stopped. No reason given, but I am grateful for every day that one of them doesn’t pay me a visit.
People around us are openly staring. Some point, some mutter, some turn away with a look of anger or disgust on their faces. Neither Dilacs or Khiara give any obvious attention to those around us, but I am confident they are watching.
I trust them.
It’s a strange sensation, really. This feeling that I can trust them. It’s come on slowly, proven time and again by their actions a whole lot more than their words. Neither of them could ever be accused of being verbose.
We pass a child who loudly gasps and points when he sees me. He speaks in rapid fire words I don’t understand but then his mother looks over and she growls. On the far side of her what I assume is her husband or mate or whatever looks and his eyes narrow. He steps around his wife and child, placing himself between them and me.
I force a smile though my stomach is queasy. I try to raise a hand and wave but Dilacs tightens his grip on my arm and keeps me from doing it. Dilacs twists so that he blocks my view of the family and we push past them.
It’s not an uncommon reaction and one I’ve gotten before on the rare times they’ve taken me out of the house. None of which means I like it. It’s disheartening when even a child acts like that. Afraid, angry, assuming that I am part of the problem. I don’t know what rumors are spreading about us humans, but I do know that they associate us with the Zmaj, which for the Urr’ki is not a good thing.
I turn my attention away from the people and study the city. This is a part of it I’ve never seen but I only know that by the size of the buildings. The ones around us have three stories and a few have four. The biggest buildings I’ve seen before this have had the more usual two.
Putting that together with other pieces that I’ve learned about the Urr’ki city I’m betting we’re heading towards the city center. My bet pays off very shortly as we emerge into a huge square. On the far side from us is the most massive building I’ve seen yet.
That building is probably six, maybe seven stories tall. Around the second story of the building is what looks like a kind of balcony that runs the entire length of the building. The big building stands out also because it is the only splash of color in the normally drab world and city of the Urr’ki. The walls of the building are either a different kind of stone or they’re painted, or something that makes them white.
My protectors push through the crowd, moving us in closer, but soon enough there is no further way forward. The people are packed too tight. The smell of so many bodies is choking the air adding to the difficulty in getting a breath. I also can’t see anything that’s happening. Even the shortest of Urr’ki are taller than me.
“What’s happening?” I ask, having to raise my voice to be heard over the white noise of the crowd.
Khiara looks down and grunts, but Dilacs gives me a longer look. He purses his lips and frowns. He looks at his brother and they do that thing they do. I don’t have any siblings so I don’t know if it’s a brother thing or what but they have this way of talking without saying a thing. A single look for them says as much as a hundred words for me.
I look between them, trying to decipher their conversation without being part of it. It only lasts for an instant and though I hate to admit it, I’m jealous. Sure I’ve seen them argue and fight and even come to blows, but the connection they share is so deep and all of that is just them. Par for the course I guess between them at least. None of that does anything to diminish the way they care for one another.
The moment is gone, fast as always, leaving me no closer to cracking the code of their secret language. But, before I can say or do anything more, Dilacs takes his hand off my arm then clamps both of his around my waist. His hands are so big that it feels as if his fingers meet around my middle.
I yelp as he lifts, all but throwing me into the air. Surprised I flail my legs which spreads them apart and works perfectly for the plan he is executing without my knowledge and only with my accidental participation. He swings me up, over his head, then plops me down onto his shoulders.
It’s a perfectly timed and executed move that somehow works as if I was part of the plan the entire time. I clamp my hands on his head, holding tight while I get my bearings. He has his hands clamped onto my calves, holding me tight and steady, which fact slowly seeps into my brain.
As I realize I’m okay I ease the death grip on his skull. Then I straighten my hunched back and as I do I can see over the crowd. As I process what I can now see I’m also acutely aware of the intimacy of this position with him which makes my cheeks burn hot.
