Page 38 of His to Worship
“He says that they don’t think the storm is going to stop.” Kuvier speaks again, and I’m impressed with myself when I understand most of it, even before Xiomara begins translating. “Basically, he’s saying that if the storm doesn’t stop that means the dark season is coming.” She asks him about the dark season in his language and tells us his answer. “It’s a period of several weeks, or maybe months, when the suns stop rising.”
“Jesus,” Renata murmurs, pushing a long loc over her shoulder.
“So,” Meghan starts incredulously, “not only is this planet trying to kill us with the cold, but it’ll soon be completely dark for weeks on end?”
“I hate this damned planet,” Krissy says, her lips turned down into a pout. “Samra, hurry up and fix that tablet so we can get out of here.”
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Samra states matter-of-factly, “there is no guarantee I can fix it.”
The topic of the tablet had circled around more than once. I’d yet to tell Kuvier about it. I wasn’t even sure how to begin explaining technology to him. But, moreover, I was sworn to secrecy by the other women. There’s a fear that if Enikk and Kuvier knew we were trying to leave, they might try to stop us. I don’t see Kuvier doing that. Honestly, I feel like he’d do anything I asked to make me happy, even if it meant letting me go.
The problem I’m having is determining if I even want him to let me go.
The morning moves rather quickly after that and soon we are all splitting off where we are best suited. Enikk brings some of the women with him to go looking for reeds, and to my surprise Amari volunteers to go with him, dragging Sabrina with her. Krissy thankfully also chooses to go with them, giving me a much needed break from the attitude.
Kuvier asks me if I want to go hunting, but I turn him down since we both know I am not built to be a fast hunter, and I don’t want to slow him down. No one is surprised when Meghan and Renata volunteer to go with him.
That leaves Xiomara, Samra, and me to hold down the fort. We’ve been tasked with finishing putting together cloaks and wrappings for everyone’s shoes. I’ve managed to get three out of eight cloaks made and a few tunics, but if we are traveling, we’ll need a lot more.
“I will not go far,” Kuvier tells me for the umpteenth time as he wraps himself in the cloak I made him take back.
“I know, Kuvier. I’ll be fine,” I respond, giving him a comforting pat on the chest. “Enikk’s within yelling distance, and you’re not going too far. Everything will be fine.”
He frowns, still not loving the idea of being away from me for any period of time. Since we’ve started becoming touchy, his protectiveness and possessiveness have gone through the roof.
“You will promise me that you will not leave the cave.” It’s a demand not a request and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
“I promise I won’t leave the cave.”
Kuvier and Enikk both believe we are in a ‘sky cave’ and that the pods are eggs that we hatched from, according to some translation from Xiomara. One day I’ll explain more in-depth where we come from and how, but I want to be able to do it with my words, so until then, I mostly let him think what he wants.
“I will return soon.”
“Kuvier, we’re burning daylight!” He looks to Meghan and Renata who wait outside, suited up and ready to hunt. Meghan is tapping her wrist as if she has a watch and I crack a smile.
Kuvier looks at them deadpan before turning his attention back to me. With an exasperated sigh, he cups the back of my neck and pulls his head down to meet my lips. The deep kiss leaves me breathless with hot ears as he pulls away.
He gives my ass a possessive squeeze, and I swat him in embarrassment. A grin breaks over his face, and then he pulls away and bounds outside without another word.
I stand there for a while longer, watching as Enikk’s party heads out too. I finally come back to my senses when the crate goes quiet. With everyone else gone to do their own tasks, I settle beside the fire with Xiomara and Samra, who are organizing threads and needles for our sewing tasks.
“Alright ladies, let’s get to it.”
Needles flash through fabric, and the rhythm of our work creates a calming background. I’m glad when it becomes clear that both of them know how to sew already. Having to teach them would have eaten up valuable time we do not have.
After a long stretch of silence, I glance up from my stitching. “What do you guys think of everything so far?”
Samra pauses, her brow furrowing slightly before she replies, “It's less overwhelming than I would have expected. Maybe it’s because there are seven other people here going through the exact same thing. It makes it feel less lonely, you know?”
“Do you miss home?” It’s a question I’ve hesitantly asked myself. Hesitantly because I don’t love the answer being ‘no.’
“Yes and no,” she admits truthfully. “I miss some things, but there’s so little pressure here. I like that.” Her eyes take on a distance before she pulls back to us.
“And you, Xiomara?” I inquire, turning to the Puerto Rican woman beside me.
Xiomara smiles faintly, but there’s a hint of worry in her eyes. “I’m not having a hard time adjusting,” she admits, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “But I do wonder...what can I really offer to this way of life? Everyone here has a purpose, but all I’ve ever done in life is be a furniture slave, a decoration to powerful leaders, or a servant. I’ve never had to live like this, to pitch in and contribute in such a direct way.”
“You’re our translator,” I retort with genuinity. “Without you, we’d be so lost.”