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“We were stolen, actually,” R’slind mutters, moving closer to me. “But who’s counting, right?”
“Perhaps Tal’nef is unaware,” I soothe. “His brother has not shared this with him, I suspect.”
“Those words,” Noj’me says, pointing at us. “I know those words. Give me a moment.” She closes her eyes, thinking, and then struggles to speak in my tongue. “You—I greet. Sakh speech. Yes?”
All turn to look at me.
“You speak my language?” I ask, exchanging a look with R’slind.
Noj’me flutters two of her hands excitedly, a third one gesturing at the stone finger in the ceiling. “Speak not well,” she says with enthusiasm. “No practice! Oracle teaches me words of outsiders, yes. All attendants learn oracle words.”
“Do you understand me?” R’slind asks in human.
The female shakes her head, a look of confusion on her face. “Oracle words only.” Noj’me approaches me, her scent delicate against the scent of mushrooms and fruit, and I compare her build with that of F’rli, the adult sa-khui female. Noj’me is broader in the shoulders, her teats larger and more prominent than a sa-khui. She is not so tall, however, and she does not have F’rli’s confident hunter’s movements. Still, there is an arresting beauty to her that is fascinating to see. The males of her people are strong and brutish, but there is a delicacy to the female despite her extra limbs and the heavy sweep of her tail. She dresses as they do, except she wears several thick necklaces with carved beads.
“How do you know my words?” I ask her.
R’slind huffs. “Isn’t it obvious? She got them from the spaceship.”
Nineteen
ROSALIND
So there’s a female alien here.
I shouldn’t care.
I absolutely shouldn’t care, I tell myself. If this special worm thing is right, R’jaal is mine and I’m his. I should be more focused on the fact that there’s some alien technology sticking out of the ceiling and that these people are considering it an oracle of some kind.
But I’m not. I’m irritated that the new stranger, Noj’me—with her soft silvery-blonde hair and her topless tits—is giving my man interested looks. This damn parasite is affecting my brain, because I should think it’s great that another woman has shown up to the party. Instead, I’m purring harder than ever before and I want to step in front of R’jaal and hiss at her for staring at him.
“You are outsider?” she asks R’jaal, taking another step forward. Her eyes are bright with eagerness, and it’s clear she’s never seen someone like him before and she wants to learn. The librarian in me understands this.
The female side of me does not, and I hold onto R’jaal’s arm tightly.
As if he can sense the tension, Set’nef steps close to Noj’me. He puts a hand on her shoulder and shakes his head. “Careful. They look harmless, but they are resonating to each other. It might make them unpredictable.”
They’re scared of us? I want to laugh at the irony of it…even though I did just briefly entertain snarling at another woman. Maybe he’s not wrong.
Noj’me’s expression falls and she takes a step back. “I did not mean to make you both uncomfortable,” she says, gesturing. “I just wished to learn. You have my apologies.”
Well now I really do feel like a jerk. I would rather have Noj’me’s bright-eyed fascination than Set’nef’s people trying to keep us imprisoned because they thought I was cursed…or that asshole Kin’far that jizzed on our food and tried to get us killed by the mushroom lizards.
“I am R’jaal of Tall Horn clan.” He turns and indicates me with a look that can only be described as extreme pride. “This is R’slind the Berry-And, and she is my hyoo-man mate.”
“Oh! Fascinating!” Noj’me watches us, her gaze darting back and forth as she tries to follow R’jaal’s words. “I am Noj’me the Attendant. I live here and tend to the oracle. It is a position of honor amongst my people, and I was chosen because I could learn the oracle’s words quickly. It is a lonely position, though. I am so very glad you are all here.”
“Maybe she can help us get back to the surface,” I murmur to R’jaal. “We…are going back to the surface, aren’t we?”
He nods at me, speaking English. “Yes. I want to take you back to my people. Back to my home.”
“Another language,” Noj’me whispers, watching us speak. “And one I do not know. It is obvious she is a different people than he is. How many are above now?” She turns to Set’nef. “Is that why you have sought out the oracle?”
“We have a great many questions,” he says. “And we hope the oracle will provide answers that will satisfy the chief.”
Noj’me all but wriggles with excitement. “Yes! Of course. Come and sit, all of you. I will make tea and we will feast on the oracle’s fruits. We will share its bounty and perhaps we will be able to answer your questions.” She ushers us forward with a wave of her hands. “Come, come, you will be the oracle’s honored guests while you sit at our fire.”
