“You don’t know when to shut up,” Bri says, pulling my head toward her and silencing me with an unrestrained kiss.
I’m building toward an orgasm and need her to get there as well. My plans to make this last have failed spectacularly. I grab her arm from my shoulder and push her hand to where we are connected. I can’t take my eyes off her fingers pressing on her clit. It happens before I can stop it. I let go, or maybe I just finally stop pretending I was ever in control.
Bri and I reluctantly get up from the sex haze and go down to the ground level. In no hurry to find Eio’sh, we wander through the market and take it all in. Every sense is on overload. The sounds of the Sabaaki language being translated in my ear. The smells of driedherbs and spices shoved under our noses with offers of the best price. Dates and figs generously pressed into our hands.
We follow the smell of roasting meat to a spit-roasting stand that’s big enough to feed half the city. A group of Sabaaki stand around the meat and offer opinions about how to cook the communal meal. For such willowy people, they look ready to dig in. We watch them bicker and critique the cook’s methods.
Bri and I stand back, mindful of their suspicion. It’s not every day a Tilak and a human walk into their small city. As soon as they notice us, we are beckoned into their circle. A warm bowl of rice is pushed into our hands.
One of them inspects Bri’s kaftan and clicks their tongue approvingly at her attire. I can’t help but puff up with pride.
“Your wife looks lovely,” they say and pat me on the back.
Bri’s head snaps to me at the misconception. Part of me is tempted to let them think we are married. It feels fun to pretend. If I had my visor, it could calculate the odds of Bri and I being together. The chances would be less than 1%.
I decide to go with it before she can correct them. “Yes, she does.”
Bri laughs and shakes her head. Maybe after everything we have been through the odds have ticked up slightly.
“We heard you are seeking out the Boraei so you can return home. Are you sure that is a wise decision?” they ask.
“It’s our only way,” Bri says with a mouthful of rice. One of the Sabaaki places a thick slice of meat in her bowl and she tears into it.
“Then may the winds guide your path,” one says and piles my bowl high with the sizzling meat. The flavor hits my tongue, and I take three more big bites before I swallow.
It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten.
“Do you know where we can find the Boraei?” I ask while trying to swallow the piping hot food.
“They were across the plains the last time we encountered them.”
“Past the deep sand, the ground hardens and levels out. Then youwill pass the canyon with water. Follow the river and pray they don’t find you first,” another adds solemnly.
“Sounds fun,” Bri says. Her sarcasm goes straight past them.
“Yes, thank you so much. You’ve been so generous. It’s a nice change of pace from our last encounter,” I say.
“Who else have you met on Sabaak?” they ask.
“There’s a group that call themselves brethren.
“A cult,” I interject.
“Whatever. They thought I was their goddess. When they decided this one,” she says, angling her thumb at me, “needed to return to the gods, we got the hell out.”
“Goddess? An easy mistake,” says the one who thinks we are married.
“It wasn’t as great as it sounds,” Bri says. “Trust me.”
They lead us to a group sitting around a fire. We lower ourselves to the ground and sit shoulder to shoulder as we finish our food. The sun dips below the mountains around us and the circle widens to accommodate the Sabaaki who have trickled up to the fire. Drums show up. They play a simple beat together that branches out into a polyrhythm.
A waterskin gets passed around. When it gets to me, I take a small sip, not sure what to expect. A sweet and spicy liquid burns my tongue and all the way down my throat. I gasp for air and cough from the sting. The Sabaaki all have a good hearty laugh at my expense.
I hold it out to Bri. “This one has a kick.”
She grabs it roughly from my hands and takes a long drink. She wipes her lips with the back of her hand and gives a satisfied “ah.” She passes it along to the next person in the circle, earning nods of approval from our hosts.
“Your mate is stronger, yes?” Eio’sh says coming up behind me.
