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“I’m not a verycreativeperson—”
“Nonsense. It’s very simple. I will show you.” She taps her fingers together thoughtfully. “It’s not out of the way at all, because we must chat with all the travelers and listen for news from Lakkavi.”
All comm signals are blocked in this place, so I quickly realize that when Lakkavi told me he’d get in touch, he meant that he expected Lalo to play whisper-down-the-lane with the next Kar’Kali ship that would be leaving. We make our way through the market in the center of the ship and waltz right up to the only parked vehicle there. When the old woman knocks on the cargo hold doors, a Kar’Kali opens it for her.
“Leaving already, I hear?” she says.
The male glances at me suspiciously.
“Yes. Heading out today,” he replies politely.
“Tell Lakkavi that Niko’s stabilizing in a regen bath.”
He nods. “Yes, Lalo.”
“Good boy. Be safe. Spirit bless your travels.”
We turn back the way we came and stop in the market for fresh vegetables on our way back to the Servant’s Turn. I obediently carry her bag full of blue turnip-looking things while she stops to talk with twenty different people.
I don’t feel like talking to anyone, and Lalo seems to acknowledge this, not bothering to introduce me to her many acquaintances. She helps me pick out ribbons and tiny chain links that can be woven together to make hair ornaments, along with long leather strips that I can braid for another style of hair tie. When we return, she makes a thick blue soup from her market finds and shares a bowl with me in her cozily arranged dining area, then accompanies me to Niko’s room.
I attempt to feed him some soup while she takes out a massive basket full of silvery chain links. These are much larger than the kind we bought for my project. She’s not just on another crafting level from my pathetic attempts at hair ornaments, she’s in another stratosphere. The quiet clicking of her pliers has become a soothing background noise to me. She’s weaving with metal, slowly but surely making a magnificent fabric out of those little metal links.
“Tell me about yourself,” Lalo says. “We’ve spent the past days together, and yet I know nothing about you.”
“I don’t know where to start with that question,” I admit, lowering Niko’s chin to block his airway like the doctor showed me. He’ll get nutrients through the regen goo, but they encouraged the addition of real food to help keep his strength up and discourage any memory damage.
“Doesn’t matter where you start . . .”
“I’ve never stayed in the same place for more than a year. My parents didn’t want me. I spent my childhood getting in fights and being kicked out of classrooms . . . Let’s see, what else? I’m confrontational. I like to work out to clear my head, preferably with a punching bag. I enjoy a good shooting range. It’s probably all that unresolved anger from my youth hanging around. I like getting my hands dirty, and I don’t mind a long day of manual labor. Most of my closest friends would tell you I’m a reckless idiot with a penchant for danger. I like animals. And eating food I grew myself.”
Lalo pauses her craft halfway through my explanation. She smiles at my self-deprecating tone.
“The spirit never fails in providing us with our second halves,” she says when I’ve run out of personal fun facts. “I always imagined Niko with a wild type of female.”
“Funny, I’ve never thought of myself as wild per se.” Wild always seemed too much of a romantic notion to suit my life, bringing to mind bohemian girls with long hair that are never bothered by anything. “I’m glad you think I suit him. I was starting to worry that . . . I didn’t meet his expectations for a mate.”
“How so?”
“Humans don’t experience the mating call like your people. I didn’t believe him at first when he claimed I was destined to be his mate.”
“I don’t know why he would be so surprised.” Lalo waves her hand dismissively. “Kar’Kali means ‘People of the Core.’ There are unique qualities about our species that can be traced back to our connection to the planet and its core,kali, the spirit of our home. You are human, and like so many other species, you do not have these qualities.”
I nod, placing the empty bowl of soup on the side table. With the lack of exercise and small portions of food, I worry that Niko will start to shrink away. He still looks strong to me, but it’s only been days. What if this goes on for weeks?
“Niko likes to chase,” Lalo is continuing. She looks up and away, out at some distant memories. “He likes his freedom, so I hope he has been respectful of your freedom to choose. Did he pursue you, then?”
“Yes.” The thought of it makes me suddenly emotional. I swallow tears, refusing to let them break through. “Yes, he did. I gave him a hard time.”
“Let me hear of it, if you will,” she invites me. She motions to the basket we brought back from the market. “Try your hand at the crafts and indulge an elder female in the joys of the mating dance.”
So I tell her everything, leaving out the inappropriate bits. From our scuffle in the holding cell where he found me to the brush with danger after the auction that led to my ultimate acceptance of the bond. I tell her how strange it is among humans to fall so deeply in love so quickly. I tell her how I feel robbed of the time we meant to spend together, and the guilt I feel over not doing enough to prevent this injury that almost killed him. Because maybe if I had been stronger or braver or a better shot, I could have saved him.
“Guilt is the way of grief,” she says. I half expected her to say I shouldn’t feel guilty at all. “There is nothing to be done when a loved one is dead or dying but to feel those things. The emotions will have their way with you, whether you resist it or not.”
“Thanks for not telling me I’m crazy,” I say with an exhausted laugh.
“Oh, I have been through death, sickness, and grave injuries many times in this life. They change you every time. But it doesn’t mean you are crazy. It just means you’ve changed.”
