Dekkir (Galaxy Alien Warriors #1)(31)
“Aaah! Ah—” He thrust deep and groaned, and I felt his member jolt hard inside me. For a few moments, he stayed rigid as his body trembled . . . and then he collapsed over me with a sigh.
We held each other after, staring up at the glowing ceiling. “I have no world,” I murmured sadly, but the sadness was much muted now.
“Then let Lyra be your world.” He rolled over to look at me. “Let their betrayal make the decision for you. Please, my love. Stay with me, where you belong.”
I looked up at him and then swallowed, nodding. “I will.”
CHAPTER 12 / DEKKIR
“So how is she doing?” Elorie asked as her massive, bipedal Grogs bore the single travel sedan between them through the trackless forest.
I glanced back; Grace was napping in the sedan’s bunkhouse interior, tired and aggravated from the constant sway of our travel. I wasn’t altogether surprised; she had felt queasy the last few mornings—in a way I was trying not to get too hopeful about. Too bad we had left Neyilla’s tower behind before it had started, or we would know for certain.
“Neyilla trained her well. She is a formidable psychic, in her own way. She continues receiving communications from our spy on the humans’ moon base and has learned to broadcast as far as the seers in Highfort. She is accomplished as an empath as well and can detect lies on hearing them. And according to Neyilla, who monitored her for the whole moon cycle, her abilities continue to grow.”
“That’s a lot of potential for a race that doesn’t normally have psi abilities.” The slight, blond gatherer smiled up at me wryly. “But it’s not what I was talking about, and you know it.” She turned her head to click her tongue at the Grogs, who grunted a reply as they kept moving. The beasts clambered over obstacles, waded through them, or sometimes simply shouldered them aside, snapping off branches and uprooting brush. Now and again, they grunted to one another and shifted their path slightly to more easily bear the sedan over the broken ground.
I sighed, rubbing my face. “Well, she’s no longer so depressed, but I know she’s still angry about this and still misses her family. Once we return to Highfort and she regains her communications equipment, she’s going to be very careful about what she transmits. We will be meeting with my father and the council of seers about our next moves.” Poor Grace had been in the doldrums for over a week after learning of her commanders’ betrayal of both herself and the principles by which they claimed to operate. But slowly, with my help, Neyilla’s training, and a lot of pleasant distraction, she had improved and could now go a whole day and evening without my catching tears in her eyes.
“Well, I have to admit I like her better after seeing the risks she was willing to take for you. For all we knew, the Golden Strain could have killed her.”
“No,” I replied, though I certainly valued what Grace had done—and it had involved risks of a different sort. The Strain was reason enough that her fellow humans might not accept her anymore. “Her contact on the moon base, Tabirus, was the first human to inoculate himself. Once he knew it was safe, he recommended she do the same.”
“Tabirus. Now where have I heard that name before?” The corner of her mouth drew up as she mulled it.
“He was the first human to keep company with us. He is also apparently a friend of Neyilla’s.”
“Hmm. I didn’t know she spent much time with the human when he was here.” She pressed her lips together. “Did you have much interaction with him?”
“Only a few conversations. He traveled around the planet a great deal.” Something about that tickled at my mind. How had a human lived among us for two years as a liaison and made so little real impression, save on a few? And where had he gained his Lyran name? I knew my father had not granted it to him. So where did he get it?
“Sounds like an interesting guy. If he ends up coming back here, I’d kind of like to meet him.” The Grogs were slowing, and snuffled hungrily at the vegetation around them. “Time for a rest break for the fuzzies. You think Grace would like a chance to stretch her legs?”
“I’ll go check on her.” I turned to clamber along the side bench bolted to the wood and stretched-hide sedan, found the lashed-shut entry flap, and untied it, sticking my head in.
Grace was already sitting up, blinking sleepily. “Grogs get hungry again?”
I smiled. “Yes, time for a rest break.”
“I’ll put my boots on.”
We ate dried eel meat and fruit leather as we wandered the small clearing where the Grogs had set down the sedan. The great beasts were currently widening the clearing, yanking greenery from the trees and ground and shoving them into their maws. The plants would grow back in a few days, but meanwhile, it gave us a little room to stretch our legs.
“I’ve got to admit, and I hope you’ll forgive me, but the high chieftain’s a better passenger when he’s unconscious. He kept arguing with me over everything: the route, the meals, the rest breaks. I’m a patriotic type, but . . .” Elorie trailed off, smirking tightly. Her crossbow was propped on her shoulder as she walked.
I laughed. “Say no more. He’s always moody after an illness, and bossy, too. It’s how he gets his sense of command back.”
“Well, at least you’re not like that when you’re recovering from something.” Grace rubbed her hand down my arm, leaving me tingling even through the sleeve leather.