More melodic chittering, accompanied by gestures that seemed welcoming.
“Since King Vysar spent the years of his exile here, the Peecha have become friends of Zarpazia,” Diarvet explained, obviously noting my confusion. “My translator has been uploaded with their language—it’s not part of the standard Alliance database.”
Another Peecha stepped forward, this one clearly female, her movements graceful and purposeful. She wore what I could only describe as a living dress, woven from supple vines and adorned with bright purple flowers. The garment moved with her like a second skin, the blooms releasing tiny sparkles of pollen with each step that caught the sunlight like fairy dust.
“Ceeka,” Diarvet bowed his head to her with the same respectful deference he’d shown the male. “May I present Jolie and Princess Lilibet?” He shifted his shoulder slightly, making Lilibet bounce and dissolve into a fit of giggles that seemed to enchant our alien hosts. “Jolie, Princess Lilibet, this is Chieftain Tark and Healer Ceeka.”
I fumbled for an appropriate response, finally settling on the same respectful nod Diarvet had demonstrated. “It is an honor to meet you both,” I said, hoping my sincerity would translate even if my words did not.
Lilibet, however, had no such reservations. She launched into an enthusiastic wave, her face lighting up as she called outa cheerful “Hi!” The effect on the two Peecha was immediate—their expressions softening with instant infatuation.
Chieftain Tark spoke again, his chittering taking on what sounded like formal tones, and Diarvet responded with a sincere “Thank you” before turning to explain.
“Tark and Ceeka will escort us to the treehouse and leave some of the warriors to camouflage the shuttle. They want to ensure we remain hidden from any unwelcome visitors.”
“Thank you,” I added, directing my gratitude toward our alien benefactors, though they regarded me with the same friendly incomprehension as before.
We continued deeper into the jungle, our footsteps muffled by a carpet of fallen leaves that released sweet fragrance with each step. The silence was comfortable, broken only by Lilibet’s excited chatter at spotting new and unique jungle treasures. Her enthusiasm only intensified when a massive structure became visible through the purple foliage ahead.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, stopping dead in my tracks as I took in the architectural wonder sitting high in the branches. “When you said treehouse, I didn’t think you meanttreehouse.”
Diarvet’s rich chuckle rumbled through the air as his fingers found mine, intertwining and sending warmth racing up my arm. The simple contact felt like the most natural thing in the world—walking through this alien paradise, hand in hand with him, while Lilibet perched happily on his shoulder.
Tark led us to the base of the massive tree that supported the structure, gesturing toward an intricate system of ropes and pulleys designed to transport both people and supplies from the jungle floor to the dwelling above. My steps faltered as I stepped onto the wooden platform, vertigo making my head spin. Lilibet was so beside herself with excitement that she was practically bouncing out of Diarvet’s grip. I could already tell that getting her to sleep tonight would be next to impossible.
“Holy shit,” I breathed again as the conveyance lifted us into the air with surprising smoothness, finally coming to rest when we reached the sturdy wraparound deck that encircled the tree like a wooden embrace.
“You said a bad word again, MeMe, “Lilibet scolded, though she seemed to realize that shock caused my faux pas.
The treehouse was a marvel, crafted from wood and fitted stone blocks, with thick, silvery vines lashing the entire structure together. The thatched roof, woven from the same deep blue leaves that crowned the forest canopy, curved gracefully overhead like protective wings. From my vantage point, I glimpsed the interior through wide, arched openings, a space divided into two sections by a circular stone fire pit recessed into the wooden floor.
On the far side of the dwelling, a waterwheel turned, wooden paddles catching the crystal-clear stream that cascaded down from somewhere high in the canopy above. The water flowed through an intricate network of hollowed tree limbs carved and fitted together, creating a natural plumbing system that would have impressed any Earth engineer. The furniture scattered throughout the space—chairs carved from massive logs, tables fashioned from cross-sections of trees, and cushions woven from vines—appeared not just comfortable but invitingly luxurious.
To the left of the fire pit, an impressive array of wooden and stone bowls in various sizes lined handcrafted shelves. Woven baskets hung at different heights, some empty, others containing what appeared to be dried herbs and spices that perfumed the air. From the sturdy rafters above, haunches of cured meat swayed gently alongside bundles of dried plants and flowers.
“There are two sleeping areas,” Diarvet told me, as he gestured toward the right side of the structure. “You and Lilibet can take the larger one.”
I stepped toward the area he indicated and peered beyond a doorway carved with intricate spiraling patterns. The spacious room beyond took my breath away, dominated by an enormous bed constructed from polished logs and woven rope that looked sturdy enough to last centuries. Layers upon layers of the softest furs I’d ever seen, pelts in shades of cream, silver, and deep forest green that looked sinfully comfortable, covered the bed.
“The bathing area is at the end of the hallway,” Diarvet continued, amusement dancing in his dark eyes as he watched my amazed expression.
“You’ve got a bathroom,” I squeaked in disbelief. Through another gracefully arched doorway, I discovered what resembled a rustic spa retreat. A shower area where water cascaded from carved spouts hidden among living vines, a large metal tub that gleamed like burnished copper and looked deep enough to swim in, and a stone sink carved from a single piece of what appeared to be jade-green marble. The toilet was more Japanese than American in design, but I wasn’t complaining.
“It’s so perfect!” Lilibet gushed with such pure, unbridled glee that I knew without a doubt I’d have no trouble convincing her to submit to bath time in this magical place. She wriggled down from atop Diarvet’s broad shoulder with the grace of a monkey, immediately zooming through the treehouse with a boundless energy I could only envy, her deep pink curls streaming behind her.
“My room is so pretty,” she breathed, finally coming to a panting stop in the doorway of what would be our sleeping chamber, her emerald eyes brilliant with delight. “Can we pick some flowers for my room?”
“Of course,” Diarvet replied, kneeling to put himself at her eye level. “What color would you like, Princess?”
“Purple,” Lilibet announced with decisive authority, flinging herself into his embrace.
“I guess we’re going to pick flowers,” Diarvet grinned up at me, his expression so warm and indulgent that my traitorous heart performed another of those dangerous little flips, and my ovaries trembled, near to bursting.
Tark chittered something in our direction, his intelligent eyes twinkling with what looked suspiciously like approval.
“Thank you, friend. It is most appreciated,” Diarvet answered with gratitude, then turned to explain. “Tark and Ceeka are going to bring over enough supplies to last us several days until we get properly settled.”
“Thank you,” I said, offering another respectful bow in their direction, putting as much heartfelt appreciation as possible into my voice. And again, they regarded me with unmistakable friendliness and warmth, while completely uncomprehending my words. If we were going to be here for a while, I’d need to find a way to communicate with them.
