The Barbarian Before Christmas (Ice Planet Barbarians #17.5)(4)
I can’t help but smile. Even though he’s a child, he’s taken on quite a few of Bek’s mannerisms, and he must have noticed that I only eat after Bek’s tasted something. I eat the cake while he stirs my fire again, and then grabs a set of fur wraps, handing them to me when I finish my food. “We’ve got lots to do today. Kae’s mama wants us to get her some eggs, and my mama wants more nests. And then she said I have to wash my hands.”
Wise mama. The dirtbeaks make their nests from dvisti poop, so I don’t blame Claire for demanding a hand-washing. I get to my feet and put on my wraps, and then offer the children my hand. “Let’s go.”
Erevair takes Kae’s little hand in his and links his tail with hers, then puts his hand in mine so we form a chain. We do this every morning, though it’s not always Kae that’s with us. Sometimes it’s Rukhar, or Liz or Georgie’s girls. But I think Kae is his favorite. She’s very quiet, which gives him a lot of room to talk. Joden, Josie’s oldest, came with us once and Erevair spent the entire time trying to talk over him. It was exhausting.
As we emerge from my hut, I see Kira sitting in front of hers, chatting with Claire. They have their sewing out and wave as they see us. For some reason the children love gathering dirtbeak nests, so I always have company with this particular chore. My gathering basket leans against the wall of the hut and I shake the snow off of it, then tuck it under my free arm. “Egg basket?” I ask in a low voice, and Kae detangles herself from Erevair and trots over to her mother.
We wait, and as we do, Erevair squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you smell nice, Elly. It’s much better than when you were stinky.”
I’m not sure if he’s chiding me, but either way it’s kind of funny. Truth is, when my anxiety gets the better of me, it’s easy to fall back into my old habits. No speaking, no socializing, and forming a fine crust of dirt over my skin so no one will notice me. But then I think of Bek, and how I don’t want to be filthy when he comes home. I want him to be excited to see me. I want him to kiss me all over and touch me. I’m far more touchable clean.
Kae skips back with her basket in her hand. “Mama said extra eggs please.”
I look up at the two women, and Kira waves at me with a smile, acknowledging us. She doesn’t get up, though, and I don’t head over. I get along better with the children, and everyone gives me enough space that I don’t feel cornered. “More eggs?” I ask.
Kae nods as if that answers everything.
“It’s for No-Poison Day,” Erevair announces, twining his tail with Kae’s again as she slips her little hand in his once more. “We’re going to decorate eggs and make wishes.”
Oh. I remember someone saying something about a bastardized Christmas holiday, but I haven’t paid much attention. Holidays are a very distant memory. I spent so long in cages and zoos that a lot of my Earth dreams are just very, very distant memories. It didn’t occur to me to celebrate, not with Bek gone. “I see.”
We head down the path in the canyon toward the dirtbeak cliffs, and as we do, Erevair chatters on and on about the holiday. “No-Poison Day is going to be the day after tomorrow. That’s what Mama says. Is that a long time, Elly?”
I shake my head, content to let him ramble.
“Mama says if I am good that I can have a special present the night before and then another on the morning of. She said it won’t be plants, though, because the No-Poison plants are saved for girls so their mates can kiss them. My papa’s not here for Mama to kiss though, so I hope she doesn’t have to kiss me.” His face screws up.
“She won’t,” I tell him with a squeeze of his hand.
“We have garlands and pretty things hanging in our hut, though. And Mama said that Miss Stacy is going to cook special treats for everyone for the holiday. And we’re going to play games like football, but we have to be careful not to play too hard, because Drenol is really old and Mama is afraid we’ll hurt him.” When I don’t add more to this than a hand-squeeze to let him know that I’m listening, he turns to Kae. “I asked Mama if I could have a tunic just like Papa’s favorite. Or a fishing net, but she says I’m too little for a fishing net and I’ll just pull myself right under. What did you ask for, Kae?”
“For Papa to come home,” Kae chirps. “That’s the only thing I want.”
I feel a dull ache in my heart. Oh, I want that, too. I want the hunters to come home and I want to see my strong, proud Bek stalk into the village, his gaze roaming over faces as he looks for me.
That’s what I want, too—for my love, my mate, my everything, to return home to my arms.
Erevair makes an unhappy noise. “I don’t think you’ll get that, Kae. Mama says the brutal season will be here any day now and that means Papa and the others might not be back until the worst of the snows are over. That could be turns and turns and tuuuurns of the moons. We might not see them until it’s time for the bitter season again.” He says all this with matter-of-fact authority, but each word is like a dagger in my heart.
It’s already been weeks and weeks. The thought of being without Bek for months on end feels like torture. I want to cry. I want to turn around and crawl back into my bed and sleep until he gets back here. I’m so sad and lonely without him. It’s breaking me.