The Choosing (The Pruxnae Book 1) (18 page)

The aide walked
by again and cut an abnormally forward glance toward Ryn out of its wide,
slit-pupil eyes. “The human grows weary of negotiations.”

Its sibilant
voice hissed softly through the air, and Ryn sighed. The Domorians were usually
too polite to mention a social faux pas. His impatience must’ve been obvious
for the youngling to say anything. “I meant no disrespect.”

The Domorian’s
thin lips curled back in a passable imitation of a human smile, baring small,
pearl-gray teeth. “It was an observation. Would you care to walk with me? The
view from the observatory is grand-grand this time of day.”

Ryn glanced toward
Gared. The older man had slouched into his chair, abandoning formality.
Tyornin’s hammer. They weren’t even close to starting the negotiations. Ryn
clenched his hands into fists, relaxed them. “Yeah, I think I would. Thanks.”

“Welcome-welcome.”
The Domorian touched a six-fingered hand to its shoulder, its iridescent skin
luminous in the light filtering into the room through openings in the ceiling.
“My designation is Llda.”

Ryn twisted the
word around in his mouth. “Luhduh?”

Llda snapped its
teeth together twice, the Domorian equivalent of humor. “Close, human. You have
the designation?”

“Ryn.”

“Rrn,” Llda
said, and Ryn grinned. At least he wasn’t the only one having problems sounding
out foreign words.

He lifted a
hand, caught Gared’s eye, and jerked his chin toward the room’s exit. Gared
waved him on and threaded his fingers together over his broad chest, and Ryn
shook his head. They were going to be on Domor for a while yet.

He followed Llda
out of the room into a wide, curving hallway, checking his stride in favor of
the measured paces of the much smaller alien. “Thanks for getting me out of
there. Three days of chitchat is enough.”

Llda chuffed
through its flat nose. “I, too. Pyer wishes me to be, hrk.”

“A diplomat?”
Ryn guessed.

“Yes, that.
Human language units.” Llda clicked its teeth together. “Words. I learn still,
and you have so many, in so many forms.”

They reached the
end of the hallway. Ryn touched a finger to the pad beside a door and it
whished open. “I thought Domorians were skilled linguists.”

“Many are. I,
not. This way will show you my skill.”

Llda deposited
the cart against one wall and led Ryn through an airy dining area into another
hallway. The right-side wall was composed of thick glass framing a view of one
of Domor’s oceans. Tidal waves crashed onto the rocky shore thirty ceg below
the building’s foundation, the edges tinted fluorescent pink.

“Bmin mating
season.” Llda pointed its fingers toward the waves far below. “Good eating.
Pests otherwise.”

“I’ll take your
word for it,” Ryn murmured.

Llda clicked its
teeth. “Observatory first, then skill. This way, please-please.”

They wound
through the building, entering rooms furnished with low-set, minimalistic
furniture, some almost barren, encountering very few Domorians along the way. Llda
explained the functions of each room, detailed Domorian culture, and shared
allegorical stories as they strolled. Eventually, they reached a narrow, spiral
stairway winding upward, one side enclosed by a flimsy, ornate rail. It emptied
into an open-sided room topped by a high dome supported by intricately carved
columns placed in regular intervals around the circular floor. A waist high
railing had been built into the perimeter of the floor, protecting visitors
from a long fall onto the jagged rocks below.

Ryn propped his
elbows against the railing, facing the ocean. It spread out in front of them, a
wide expanse of blue-green water curling into pink capped waves in thin lines. The
steady roar of it was a soothing backdrop to the tide of emotions roiling
through him. Yellow tinged clouds streaked through the sky, reflecting onto the
water below. He breathed deeply, ignoring the faint bite of sulfur wafting
through the air. “It’s beautiful.”

“For us, yes.
Peaceful.” Llda’s slit-pupil eyes blinked. “You need peace, Rrn.”

Ryn hunched his
shoulders, easing the tense muscles. “I’m ready to get back home.”

“You have
someone there?”

“You could say
that. She’s…” How to describe Ziri and the Choosing to Llda? The Pruxnæ custom
was an odd one, even among humans, and far different from the Domorians mating
rituals. “I hope she’ll be my mate soon.”

“Hrk. I mate
soon as well. Happy-happy.” Llda clicked its teeth. “Pyer wishes the
connections my mate brings to the nest. I wish the mating.”

Ryn laughed.
“Yeah, I kinda do, too. I guess it’s a universal thing.”

“Truth-truth.
Come. Skill show.”

They wended back
through the building past the common rooms into what looked like private living
quarters. Llda guided Ryn past those into a narrow stairwell leading downward,
ending in a cramped workspace. Crude wooden shelves lined the walls above a
low, narrow counter running the length of three sides of the pentagonal room. A
wide variety of tools were jumbled together across every surface among shimmery
sided pots, bowls, and spheres.

Llda pressed its
hand into an indentation in the wall at the foot of the stairs and the dimly
lit area gradually lightened. It pointed its fingers at the area. “My skill.”

“Your
workspace?” Ryn edged into the room and peered closely at a vase glazed in
swirling shades of deep red. “It’s beautiful. How do you get the colors to do
that?”

Llda clicked its
teeth together. “Careful-careful. I have something for you, a mate day gift.”
It glided into the room and stretched its thin body, retrieving a dull black
sphere from an upper shelf. “Hold your hands out and think only of your mate.
This you do?”

Ryn exhaled a
slow breath. “Yes, I can do that.”

He extended his
hands, palms up. Llda placed the sphere in Ryn’s hands, bent them around the
cool material, and cupped its fragile hands over his. “Close eyes and think.
Yes?”

Ryn closed his
eyes and thought of Ziri the first time he’d seen her through a satellite vid,
standing on the street of her hometown, her face lifted to the sun. Her smile,
generously bestowed on one and all as she passed by. The way she rolled her
beautiful blue-gray eyes when he irritated her. The soft protests she’d uttered
when he’d left her bed the last time.

The tension bled
from his shoulders, slowly replaced by the warmth of her smile, the mischief
sparking in her eyes, the silkiness of her skin against his. The sphere grew
hot between his palms, and his eyes popped open. Llda was swaying gently back
and forth, humming softly deep in its throat.

The sphere
cooled abruptly, and Llda’s lashless eyelids fluttered. “It is done. See what
your mate brings you.”

Llda’s hands
fell away, and Ryn opened his on the now colorfully swirled surface. Blues and
grays mingled with soft greens and the occasional thin slice of red. “What
happened?”

“Imprinting. Hrk.
Emotion?” Llda chuffed a breath through its flat nose. “What you feel when you
think of your mate. This is what she means to you.”

“It’s just like
her.” Ryn tapped his thumb against a wide streak the exact shade of Ziri’s
eyes. “This one especially.”

“The color of
peace,” Llda declared. “It seems you have had it all along, carried in your…”
It rattled off a long series of hissing glissandos and clicks. “The human word
escapes me. The place where emotion lives?”

“The heart,” Ryn
murmured. Was Llda trying to say that Ryn loved Ziri? Could he really, after
knowing her for such a short time, or was it just that all his hopes of a good future
balanced on the outcome of the Choosing and her decision then?

Llda bowed slightly
and touched the tips of its fingers to its wide forehead. “Peace-peace, Ryn of
Abyw. May your mating bring many spawns and happy-happy hearts.”

Ryn clasped the
sphere carefully and bowed. “Thank you, Llda. I hope your mating is good, too.”

“Blessings, many.”
Llda clicked its teeth together. “We enjoy the matings, yes?”

Ryn laughed.
“Yeah, I think we will.”

They wandered
back to the meeting space and rejoined Gared and Pyer. Their talks had finally
progressed to actual negotiations, and Ryn settled into his station against a
wall, thankful he could go home soon to Abyw and the peace Ziri promised.

Three days
remained until the Choosing.

Ziri swirled
molnog wool slowly through water, cleaning it the way Alna had taught her in
the long hours since Ryn and Gared had left. She’d become an expert at a lot of
things while her captor was away. Peeling alien vegetables, discussing the
relative merits of raising the docile creatures as opposed to other land uses,
fending off the never-ending stream of suitors traipsing through Alna’s home.

The one thing
she hadn’t yet mastered was defeating Ryn’s mother in their daily combat
trials. It seemed like the harder Ziri tried, the worse she failed, and the
worse she failed, the harder the sick knot in her gut twisted.

She had no hope
of bypassing the stubborn Tyelu on the Choosing field, not one.

Ziri picked
debris out of the wool and discarded it in the wooden bucket set on the floor
beside the kitchen sink. What did it matter, anyway? She hadn’t decided if she
wanted to try for Ryn or whether she should. In fact, she had no idea what she’d
do when that day came, if she’d sit stubbornly at the start line and refuse to
participate or if she’d try for another man. Enel was a regular visitor, and
though she tried not to encourage him, it was clear he was growing fond of her.

If she felt
anything for him outside of a warm friendship, maybe she’d consider trying for
him at the Choosing, but she didn’t, not a thing, not even when he’d hesitantly
pressed his lips to hers the night before on his way home.

She bent at the
waist and rested her forehead on one forearm. Curse Ryn and his sexy hide.
Curse him to the center of the galaxy and back again.

Soft footsteps
shuffled across the floor behind her. “Tired of dealing with wool?” Alna asked.

Ziri
straightened and returned to her task. “I was just thinking.”

Alna rested her
hip against the edge of the sink beside Ziri and tucked a stray strand of
blonde hair behind her ear. “Are you sure? You seem tired.”

“I’m having a
hard time sleeping,” Ziri admitted, and the knot twisting her gut jetted into
her throat, choking her. She hadn’t slept well since Ryn had slipped out of her
bed a week and a half ago. “Anyway, I’m used to working, at the bookstore, at
home in my garden. Cleaning wool is easy compared to some of the things I’ve
done. Digging clay, tuning engines.”

Repairing the
Yarinska
’s
water systems.

A longing to be
there welled up inside her. She’d been safe on the ship, except for that one
time with the Sweepers, and she’d had a purpose, a role, a growing friendship
she could depend on. Here, she was Lady Ziri, coveted candidate and potential
bride, and the pressure of the decision she’d have to make was unbearable.

Why couldn’t she
just go home?

Alna’s arm
slipped around Ziri’s waist. “There now, Ziri. Don’t cry. Ryn will be home
soon, and if you’re lucky, you’ll never have to process wool again.”

The words
startled a laugh out of Ziri. “Oh, Alna, that’s not it at all, I swear.”

“You miss Ryn.”

“Maybe a little.
He kind of grows on you.”

“Yes, he does.”
Alna rested her head on Ziri’s shoulder and rubbed her hand up and down Ziri’s
arm. “Has he told you how he came to be here with us?”

“He’s told me a
lot of stories about when he was young, after you and Gared took him in.” Ziri
laid her cheek against the crown of Alna’s head. “Never before, though. It’s
almost like he’s shut that part of himself off.”

“It was a hard
time for him. The Sweepers captured him when he was just a boy, perhaps seven
or eight Standards. From what we’ve been able to piece together, they raided
his village and killed his family, then took him prisoner, enslaving him.”

Ziri sucked in a
breath. “I didn’t know.”

“He doesn’t like
to talk about it.”

“I guess I don’t
blame him.”

“Neither did we,
not for anything that came after. The Sweepers aren’t a kind species. They have
no compassion and they make very little distinction between a male of their own
and a male of another race. Ryn was approaching puberty when Gared found him,
and if he hadn’t…”

“Ryn might’ve
died,” Ziri guessed. Onu’s breath. No wonder he’d closed himself off. “How long
was he with them?”

“Five Standards,
perhaps more. Ryn’s memory of his childhood is jumbled. His time with the Sweepers
was difficult to recreate and we’ve never been able to find his home world.”

“You tried to
find his family?”

“Of course.
Gared searched for years and we placed ads, spreading the word as far as we
could. No one stepped forward to claim him, and after a while, we thought
perhaps all of his family had died in that raid, anyone close enough to want
him.” Alna eased away and shook her head. “By that time, he was ours and we
didn’t want to give him up. We were the ones who were there for him while he
healed, body and mind and heart. We were the ones to watch him blossom from an
angry child into the sweet man he’s become. He’s my child as much as Tyelu and
my fallen sons are, and I want him to find happiness. He deserves something
good in his life, Ziri.”

Ziri gazed at
the black wool covered in water. “Tyelu thinks I’m not good enough for him,
that I’m too weak, that he’ll never be happy with me.”

“Tyelu is
protective of Ryn, as we all are. That doesn’t make her right.” Alna clapped
her hand to Ziri’s back. “Let’s skim the floating debris off that water and
give the wool another rinse.”

“Sure.” Alna
moved away in search of a ladle, and Ziri twisted around. “Alna, what if I
choose another man?”

Alna shrugged.
“It’s your right.”

“But will you be
angry? Will you…” Ziri swallowed down her nerves and rushed on. “Will you still
speak with me?”

“We’ll still be
friends, Ziri Mokuru.” Alna smiled gently. “There, now. Does that ease your
mind?”

“A little. But
what if I decide on Ryn and can’t make it past Tyelu? She’s made it fairly
clear that she’ll stand in my way, no matter what I decide.”

“Tyelu will do
as Ryn asks,” Alna said, but Ziri wasn’t so sure. She mulled her conversation
with Ryn’s mother over while they processed the wool from the last shearing and
wrestled with the decision rushing toward her like a comet barreling through
the night sky.

* * *

Ryn stripped off
his clothes in the pitch black darkness of Ziri’s room and eased into her bed.
A week and a half his second father had kept him on Domor, eleven days without
his red-haired beauty, so much time away from her. He curled up behind her,
tucked the covers snugly around her shoulders, and buried his face in the sweet
scent of her hair. By Wode, he’d missed this, missed holding her against him,
missed protecting her and warming her smaller body with his.

She stirred in
her sleep. “Ryn?”

“Who else?”

“Molnog,” she
muttered sleepily. “I thought one had climbed into my bed.”

He laughed
softly and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her neck. “So now I’m a stinky
molnog.”

“You smell
better.” She scooted around, facing him, and tangled her legs with his. “Mmm,
yes, you definitely smell better.”

“So do you.” Her
fingers caressed the skin of his chest and ribs, and he sighed, content for the
first time in days. “I sent a message to your parents.”

She stiffened
and her fingers stilled. “You did?”

“Before I left.
Haven’t heard back from them yet.”

“Oh. Well. Maybe
they’re caught up in negotiations or something. It’s not the first time I
haven’t heard from them in a while, though usually they let me know first if
they’re going to be out of touch.”

“They probably
tried to before they realized you were gone. Don’t worry. I’m sure they’re
fine.”

She snorted.
“Oh, you’re sure, are you?”

“I refuse for it
to be otherwise,” he said firmly. “As soon as the Choosing’s over, we’ll pack
the
Yarinska
’s gullet full of cargo and head back to Tersi so you can
see for yourself.”

“Wood.” She
yawned and snuggled closer. “We really need wood there. If you’ll let me study
the markets, I bet I can get top price for any wood product we take back.”

“Spoken like a
true negotiator.”

“Spoken like a
woman with an interest in the profit,” she retorted. She rubbed her foot up and
down his leg. “I know how attached you Hrela are to your molnog, but we could
set up a regular trade between Abyw and Tersi for wood, if anybody’s willing.”

“I’m sure some
will be.” He weighed the pressure in his heart against caution. “Enel owns a
large wooded tract.”

“Mmm. He told
me. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow when he drops by.”

“He’s here a
lot, then.”

“Nearly every
day.” Her hand drifted down to his hip and her fingers dug into the flesh
there. “He kissed me last night.”

A rough anger
ripped through Ryn. Tyornin’s Hammer, the man had nerve. How dare he lay a hand
on Ziri, when Ryn was so close to winning her heart?

“I wanted to
know what it was like, kissing him,” she said, and the anger died an abrupt
death. His heart chilled, freezing inside his ribs, and his lungs refused to
work through the iciness holding him in its grip.

“Ziri,” he
breathed. “You want him?”

“He’s a good
man.”

“Yes, I…” His mind
went blank, the words lost in the storm of loss swirling inside him. “I’ll go
now, leave you in peace.”

He tumbled out
of her bed, the room’s chill nothing compared to the cold numbing him inside
and out. Gared had kept him away too long, and now, he’d lost Ziri to the
kind-hearted widower. It was better for her. Enel had better connections, more
wealth. He’d provide for her in a way Ryn couldn’t, and she’d be happy there,
so happy.

“Wait, Ryn.
Where are you going?”

“I shouldn’t be
here.” He bowed his head and rubbed the ache growing in his heart. “If you need
anything, have Alna fetch me.”

“Ryn, please. I
thought we’d, um, talk and…” The covers rustled and the mattress squeaked. “I guess
I thought we’d have more time together, now that you’re back.”

“The Choosing’s
too close, Ziri, and Enel…” He grabbed his clothes and boots, forced himself to
draw an unsteady breath. “I’ll talk to you about the cargo after the Choosing.”

“No, Ryn, wait.”

He stumbled out
of her room and down the hallway of his childhood home, leaving behind the
woman who’d already wiggled her way into his heart.

* * *

Breakfast was a
miserable affair from start to finish. Ziri picked at the sweetbread Alna had
baked the night before and ignored the conversation swirling around her.

Ryn hadn’t made
it. He’d sent word by his young cousin that he had work he couldn’t avoid. Byungar
sat across from Ziri, shoveling winyu sausage into his mouth faster than he
could chew it. His young, gray eyes bounced around the table, absorbing every
word of the conversation between the other adults.

He
had managed to
make it to Alna’s table, hadn’t he? And so had Enel and Tyelu and one of
Gared’s cousins in need of passage from Abyw to another system after the Choosing
had come and gone. Everybody crowded around the meal, chattering in lively
spurts about the upcoming ritual, the high price of space travel, and the
shortage of molnog wool in industrial areas south of Hrelum. Ryn should’ve been
there to hear that. Everything they were discussing had an impact on his cargo
business, but no, he’d been too busy to bother coming home.

The way he’d
been too busy last night to stay with her.

Ziri’s throat
tightened and she pushed her plate away. He’d brought her to Abyw on the
pretext of wanting her for a bride. How could he leave her now, when the
Choosing was nearly upon them? How could he abandon her like that, just when
she needed his friendship the most, just when she needed his help sorting out
her own feelings?

Enel leaned
toward her, brushing his massive shoulder against hers. “Are you well, Lady
Ziri?”

She sighed and
blinked at the wood-beamed ceiling overhead. “Can’t you please call me Ziri,
just Ziri?”

“You deserve the
respect of a title.”

“But I haven’t
earned that title and have no right to it.” Her lips trembled. She firmed them
into a hard line and pushed her need for Ryn as far away as she could. “Please,
Enel.”

“As you wish,
Ziri.”

The pleasure
warming his rough voice should’ve alarmed her. Since learning the nature of the
Choosing, she’d done her best not to encourage him, but now, what did it
matter? Ryn didn’t want her anymore. She was stuck on Abyw, dependent on the
generosity of his parents for her support until she was allowed near a Net
terminal, and faced an uncertain future without the comfort of her family or
the life she’d made before he’d stolen her away from Tersi.