Page 73 of Theirs to Crave
My neck prickled, and I looked around as I nodded and laughed along with Therry’s stories of toddlers who could climb on the ceiling. At one of the other fires, a group of three Teterayuh I didn’t recognize were obviously talking about us. When my gaze fell on them, they hissed and made that strange “brushing off cobwebs” gesture. One even spit!
I spotted Orange Boy among another group who were also glowering at us, but he didn’t move when we locked eyes. He just stared, unblinking. Creepy.
Shane finished telling us about the Teterayuh’s written language—his new roommate Indaro was some kind of writer, or maybe a historian—and I leaned in.
“Are you guys seeing how some of them are watching us?” I asked. It was instinctual to keep my voice quiet, even though none of them spoke English. “Did something happen? Not everybody seemed to be Team Alien when we got here, but this seems...worse.”
“Nothing happened that I know of.” Ria grimaced, shrugging. “But, yeah, I think it’s worse. They haven’t done anything but glare and do that weird head brushing thing, though, as far as I know.”
“Some Teterayuh not friendly,” Salat murmured. “Not friendly Teterayuh name us ‘tetevath’a’. Friendly Teterayuh name us ‘tetezha’a’. But do not know what means.”
“Your mother-in-law isn’t our biggest fan,” added Shane.
“Mywhat?!”
Shane slid his eyes to the side, drawing my attention to where Saytireka and Zafett stood, apparently mid-argument. He must have finished his rounds. “Lover Boy’s mom. Our fearless leader.”
“She’s not my mother-in-law!”
“She’s not her mother-in-law!”
Mariano and I spoke at the same time. If I was embarrassed, though, he was offended. Angry, even.
I scowled at him. He wasn’t going to get back on his ridiculous “they’re assholes for flirting with you because you can’t say no” soapbox from the other day, was he? I’d been an inch from smacking him then, and as keyed up as I was, if he tried me now I’d smother him with a cushion.
Iwantedthem to flirt with me. Whether or not they had any real interest in that direction seemed to be up in the air, but the idea that they’d hold shelter and protection over my head if I didn’t fuck them? That was just ridiculous. There was something wrong with his brain, that he could think that after everything they’d done for us.
“We’re just roommates,” I muttered, grumpy it was the truth.
“Riiight...” Shane dragged the word out, disbelief written across his face.
“Estrayuh, tetezha’a, sethital.” Zafett called out as he crossed the distance between us. Saytireka—I noticed with sinking dread—followed not far behind.
I pretended not to notice Shane winking at me—or Ria’s absurd kissy face.
I couldn’t ignore Mariano’s scowl, and “accidentally” stepped on his foot as I got up.
I didn’t understand a word of Zafett’s explanation of where he was taking us, but I didn’t want to make waves in front of his mother, so I just nodded and followed where he led.
“This is where Roosa does her weaving,” Cass said, startled. She’d been pretty withdrawn, and the hint of animation in her voice was good to hear. “She’s one of the women I’m living with, the one with the pink feet. She brought me here yesterday.”
The building was made up of a wide palapa in front with two enclosed rooms behind. A recognizable loom took up one side of the palapa, and a bunch of huge clay pots filled the other. They had to be three or four feet tall. I didn’t think I could reach all the way across some of them.
“Kezhai, tetezha’a,” Roosa greeted, stepping out from the left room. “Saytireka, Zafett, kezhai.” Her body had more padding than Litha’s warrior leanness, the sense of softness enhanced by deep cream fur and dusty pink feet. Roosa’s posture was relaxed, welcoming. She had the kind of energy that felt like warm cookies fresh out of the oven.
I was glad. Cass deserved kindness. The shadows were still too tall in her eyes.
She let out a stream of Teterayuh, beckoning us to follow her into the room she’d just exited. Inside, we found a couple long tables and a wall of shelves full of yarn and other more mysterious things. On the tables were stacks of cloths like the ones Zafett had given us in a rainbow of colors. A few had patterns worked through them, but most were solid with assorted borders.
Roosa gestured between us and the stacks of fabric, nodding encouragingly.
“For. . .us?” I asked.
She said something that sounded positive and offered a folded square of pale blue to Cass.
My wide eyes flew to Zafett, who was watching me with a waiting stillness. He’d done this. Figured out we’d want more clothes and made it happen.
“Relyat,” Cass murmured, taking the blue cloth. It matched her eyes, I noticed absently. Pretty.