Page 47 of Theirs to Crave
The rain started out as a soft drizzle, but by the time my legs were burning from exertion, the only wetness on my skin was sweat.
My feet had been throbbing since we stepped out of the palapa. Zafett treated us all with another dose of his magic ointment before we left, bandaging our feet for the journey, but there was just no way to make tromping through the jungle on already sliced up feet anything but awful.
No one was in the mood to chat. Going back to the ship was bringing back things none of us wanted to remember, and the closer we got, the sadder I felt.
Not even my first clear view of the planet that was our new home distracted me from the creeping grief. Which was a testament to my ability to wallow, because the jungle was truly extraordinary.
Massive trees surrounded us, though they had little in common with the familiar giants of the redwood. They rose on legs that would have taken both Mariano and I to reach around, living columns that stretched into the air ten or fifteen feet before coming together to form enormous super trees. The branches that spread from the jungle giants were solid enough they didn’t move as the Teterayuh ran along them, and they twisted and wove around each other in a latticework so complex it was impossible to see where one tree ended and another began.
It was breathtaking. A tropical cathedral whose beauty put stone and stained glass to shame. I pushed aside a low-hanging vine, inhaling the heady, sweet perfume of its flowers.
I felt so small, as though I’d eaten from the wrong side of the mushroom. Everything waslargerthan it felt like it should be. Even the blossoms trailing from the vines overhead were so huge I couldn’t span them with both hands.
The Teterayuh led us through the jungle, towering over us like Miss Clavel with her brood of schoolgirls. They stayed constantly on the move—alert and watchful—one taking point, one following behind, and one ranging above in the high road, as I decided to call it. Every so often, at some signal I didn’t recognize, they switched.
Revik and Litha moved through the forest like ghosts, all but invisible as they slipped between black branches and deep purple shadows.
Zafett glowed as if a spotlight followed him at all times.
I knew we neared the crashed ship before I saw or smelled anything—not that I was likely to smell anything over the flowers, wet earth, and body odor that filled my nose—because the alien critters I heard but never saw were suddenly silent.
The ship was smaller than I remembered. In my mind, it had taken on the size of a city-killing flying saucer. In reality, it was the size of one of those houses they built in the suburbs. The ones that doctors named Chad bought for their blonde wives and two kids. The kind of house with a formal dining room, two living rooms, a TV room, and a pool in the back.
Imagining the bugs in khakis and cardigans, bitching about the president of the HOA helped with some of the shakes.
Yin wouldn’t let us help get Ilya out. Xe and the other Quoosalk disappeared into the mangled wreck, leaving us in the oppressive silence.
Mariano stared at the ship with fists clenched, a muscle jumping in his jaw.
“Hey,” I said softly, bumping him with my shoulder.
He stepped away and folded his arms over his chest.
I will not start a fight at a funeral.
I sucked my teeth, so he knew he’d be answering for his bullshittery later, and turned away with a huff.
Between the hike and the humidity, I was a sweaty mess. I lifted my hair, sighing at the small relief as a breeze whispered through the heavy wet strands clinging to my neck. My spine popped, and I leaned into the stretch, arching my back.
Someone whimpered.
I looked around, concerned, but no one was actively crying. Zafett was hunched over and pointedly looking everywherebutat me, though.
I straightened slowly, narrowing my eyes. Had he...? Testing out the theory, I turned and bent at the waist, fingers pressing my thighs and calves in a much-needed massage.
It was a strangled groan this time. I peeked and caught Zafett in the same “ready to pounce” position that had so ruffled the boys’ feathers that first day.
Oh, yeah. He was checking me out, all right.
“Naughty,” Ria whispered.
I straightened with a little more slink than absolutely necessary, keeping my face turned towards her with an effort. “Complaining?” I asked, hands on my hips.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, angel.” She winked. Then her eyes focused beyond me, and the wickedly appreciative glint faded.
I turned, feeling the weight of grief settle onto my chest once more as I watched the procession of Quoosalk pick their way from the wreckage, burdened by Ilya’s small body.
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