Sol Page 3
The sound of running is close now. I look at the door just as a shadow falls over me and I’m swept up from the floor.
It feels like I’m lifted ten feet into the air. The arms braced beneath my knees and back are hard and thick. I bring my joined hands up to cover my face. I wasn’t ready. For all I know, I could be going from the fire into the frying pan, or whatever the hell the saying is. I take advantage of my forced prayer hands and send one up to the universe.
“Black Jesus, I’m not trying to be a pain, but I just want to remind you that I said ‘out,’ Black Jesus. Eat me out.”
SOLUANITIAT’TI SOMIITI’UN
My legs pump fast, carrying me from the small hut where the Zefr were keeping Sheh. I dash for the wood.
Just east of where she was held, a large plume of smoke rises above the trees from where I sabotaged their weapons shed. The hoard of guns was a violation of the terms of their asylum, which forbade bringing any weapons onto the planet. The discovery made it clear that the Zefr’s intentions had never been honorable.
I hold Sheh close to my chest when I break the line of trees. The garbled cries of Zefr soldiers bellow at my back. I run faster, leaping over felled logs and shouldering thick overhangings of branches and vines out of my way. My escape is not subtle, but I no longer need stealth. I need to get Sheh as far away from the Zefr reservation as possible. I need to get her back to Somii land and behind the protective barrier where the Zefr cannot harm her.
I veer east, spying the looming spires of my castle in the far distance. Even a half day’s journey away, I know the surety of its safety. I run harder, pushing through the increasingly dense trees. After many minutes, I emerge into the large clearing which separates the land given to the Zefr from that of my people and halt, my feet skidding into the thick grass. Ten leagues away, on the other side of the clearing, the Zefr general stands with a dozen men, each with a weapon drawn. His wide mouth splits to reveal a jagged sneer as he sways in his combat stance.
“FIGHT!”
The harsh shout is in Sheh’s language and she jumps in my arms. I do not have to turn to know there are probably men at my back. There is only one way to go. I look north to the frosted peaks of the distant mountains. There is a reason the Somii choose to live so far away from them. They are frigid and wild—unforgiving. In this moment, they are the only safety.
I make the decision and pivot into a sprint. Sheh tenses, lowering her arms from her face. She angles her head to see where we are headed and gasps.
“What are you doing?”
Trust me.
“Trust you? That’s a cliff!”
I continue to sprint for the edge, even as Sheh’s slight frame struggles against my grip. I hold her tight, pressing her to my chest. The shouts of the Zefr general push me faster. They will not catch me. Somii may not fight, but our bodies are made for power and speed.
As we approach the edge, Sheh lifts her arms, lowering her entwined wrists behind my neck and pressing her face into my shoulder. Warmth rushes through me, and my footing falters. I stumble when I mean to propel myself forward, and we topple down, hurtling through the air and toward the rushing waters of the river below.
“Please don’t let me die. Please don’t let me die.”
I will not let you die. Trust me.
I curl myself around her, turning our entwined forms, and break our fall into the water with my back.
“I’m gonna drown! I can’t swim!”
The panicked cry is sharp in my mind. Sheh’s arms tighten against my neck as we toss about with the current. Her squirming body makes it difficult to get my footing, but I catch the edge of a rock and finally pull us upright.
Sheh coughs and sputters over my shoulder. When her head lifts, large droplets of water cling from her long, dark lashes. I still, arrested at having her so close. My body seems to shut down, and I can only stare. She is more beautiful than in the memory of her sister. She is more beautiful than any distant glimpse I had of her on Lyqa.
The skin of her face is smooth and brown. It is supple over the round, plumpness of her cheeks. Her mouth drips with water. The perverse desire to lick the beads from her full lips overtakes me, and I do not understand it. Her large, hazel eyes glare at me.
“Y-y-y-ou, b-b-b-utth-h-head!”
I do not know this word.
She moans and pushes her face back into my neck. Our middles press together. Her feet hang limply against my knees.
“C-c-c-cold.”
The muscles in her back shake violently beneath my hands. She still wears the long, thin dress of Lyqa women. I glance down at her shoulders. Crystals of water form on her exposed skin.
I barely feel the cold. It is a mild discomfort. The icy water melts the moment it touches me. However, Sheh’s body temperature lowers by the second as I hold her in my arms.
Should you be this cold?
“I-I-I d-d-on’t know. I’m not a f-f-fucking d-d-doctor. I’m just c-c-cold!”
Even her thoughts are interrupted by the shock taking over her body. She needs to be warmed, but the only place to go is further into the mountains. That is where we will be safe from the Zefr. I look up to the cliff. The Zefr general stands at the edge, watching us. His piercing gaze spurs me into action, and I carry Sheh to the bank and start jogging through the wood.
***
“Nhn.”
The sound is a weak protest against my chest. I suspend my progress through the trees. The sun has set, and I have been running for a very long time. My breath billows out before my face in large, vaporous clouds.
Something is wrong. After the weak groan, Sheh quiets. She is too quiet. When I search her mind, I can feel a darkness closing over it.
I lean her away from my body and brace myself for the echo of her pain, but it does not come. Her head lists to the side. Her brown skin is ashen and tinged with blue. When I listen to her heart, it beats slowly. Long pauses interrupt the frail thump.
Sheh?
“Too cold.”
The words are barely audible, and voicing them seems to take all of her energy. She whimpers and sags against my chest.
As I look at her still face, that feeling churns in my belly. It is frenzied and chaotic. I lift her until I can duck my head beneath her arms. I should have untied her. I have not been able to think clearly since having her so close. Whatever she has triggered in me increased sixfold the moment I touched her.
I walk until I find a small clearing and lay her gently on the ground. She does not stir. I leave her and rush through the nearby wood, finding several large rocks and carrying them back to form into a tight circle. I sift through the sticks at my feet until I find kindling dry enough to light. After rubbing two together until they catch, I toss them into the pile, and it quickly flourishes into a healthy fire.
I rush back to Sheh. She has not moved from where I left her. For a moment, I am unable to get any closer because I am sure she is dead. The thought of confirming such makes the muscles of my stomach seize.
Her leg twitches.
I fall to my knees and pull apart the ties at her ankles. The skin is raw and red. Her bound hands, too, are swollen and angry. I free her of her bindings, kneading each tiny palm to return the flow of blood.
She still does not stir when I lift her and move closer to the fire. The air in the clearing has already grown warmer, but I worry that it may be too late to help her. I lay her as close to the flames as I dare and rest on my side, looking across the space between us.
Sheh?
Nothing.
When I peer into her mind, only the darkness is there. I want to help, but I have no way of knowing if what I have done is enough. I search my mind, trying to remember how Bati behaved with Sheh’s sister Tee.
A memory surfaces. It was the night I was introduced to Tee. I watched her and Bati closely. He held her in his lap, and Tee had pressed her body into his.
“Mm, you’re warm. Let me get some of that
body heat,” she had said. In response, Bati held her even closer. This exchange seemed to provide comfort for Tee. As I watch Sheh’s twitching form, I wonder if I could also comfort her in this way.
I inch forward until I am close enough that I can just detect the shallow breaths that barely lift Sheh’s chest. Tentatively, I reach out and lift her slight frame against mine. I fold my arms around her back and drape my leg over her lower body, cocooning her against me.
“Warm!”
The thought is immediate and vibrant in her mind. She shudders against me, her head shifting back and forth. The cold tip of her nose rubs over my plume.
“More.”
I tighten my grip, so that her front is pressed flat to mine, and spread my large hands over every part of her that I can. She is so soft and so cold. Her tiny feet wiggle, digging against my shins as she seeks more of my warmth.
Does this help you?
“Mm, so warm.”
Her breathing gets deeper and fuller as her body temperature rises. I do not move. I keep every part of her touching me that I can, and soon the twitching ceases and she rests heavily against me.
Sleep. I will keep you warm.
The agitation that restricted my stomach lessens. I have helped her. More importantly, she allowed me to. I want to please her, and I want her to know that I will do whatever I must to keep her safe. I do not understand this new desire, but it is important, and I feel what I believe to be satisfaction at having taken care of her thus far.
Another memory of Tee and Bati floats through my head, and I do not know why I do it, but I lower my face and press my lips to Sheh’s forehead. She sighs contentedly and her mind flutters.
“Thank you.”
CHAPTER 4
LASHAY
“Oooh, warm!”
I burrow closer to the heat. Whatever I’m laying on is hard and lumpy, but I don’t even care. It chased away the cold that I thought was going to take over me. Or rather, the cold that I thought was going to take me out. Kind of like the hangover I had when me and Tee got some guy to buy us a fifth of cognac and a bottle of pineapple juice from the gas station and we drank the entire thing.
But it didn’t stay. Someone made it go away, and now I’m warm. Deliciously, warm.
I press my face into the hard surface and tighten my hold. My hips flex up on a stretch and the heat radiates through my middle, sending a tingle through me. I feel like a snake on a heat rock. It makes me rotate my hips, winding against the hard ridge at the apex of my thighs.
My dream-fogged brain goes off on its own and kicks up the steady, syncopated rhythm of a dancehall beat. I hum to it in my head. Every time my hips dip forward, that intense warmth hits my core and a shiver skitters up my spine.
In my dream, I’m with Ah’dan at this reggae club on the Northside. He towers over the sea of swaying bodies, his big, reddish-brown chest bare, his hands at my hips. I lean over, looking over one shoulder as he watches me grind my ass back. He’s impressed. His eyes fix on the movement, and I put my back into it, popping that Bennet booty.
The beat thumps, getting quicker and quicker, and I grind harder, each rotation winding up the pleasure behind my clit.
Turn to me.
The voice is a deep rumble in my head. I spin around, tossing back my curls, and step into the hard cocoon of his chest.
This is the best dream ever.
I am here, Sheh.
Sheh? Who the fuck is Sheh?
The red strobe lights obscure the face above me, but right away I know it isn’t Ah’dan. The body is too big, too—silver. The feathers on his chest glow a dull orange under the light. They are almost the same color as the eyes that peer down at me.
I am here, Sheh. I have you.
My subconscious tells me that this dream isn’t right. But that tingle is still there, and I find myself letting him pull me close. He doesn’t move, but watches as I rub against him. I straddle one of his large thighs and twist my hips, grinding against the hard cap of his knee.
Is this what you need, Sheh?
“Yes.”
Then I will give it to you.
Pleasure floods my subconscious and I seek it out, winding tighter and tighter until suddenly I jerk and an explosion erupts through my waking body. The warmth beneath me heightens the orgasm, turning it into an inferno. I hold tighter to my heat rock, smashing against it as I come.
The beat thumps. A final shake rocks my body, and I go limp, breathing heavily and settling more gently into the warmth.
“So good.”
The beat thumps.
“Okay, DJ Shay. The song is over. Wake up.”
The beat thumps. I ignore it as my consciousness comes around. Bits and pieces of the dancehall scene drift through my mind. That was an—interesting—dream.
“Okay, so Big Bird Terminator made an appearance. That wasn’t too weird.”
I am here for you, Sheh.
My eyes blink open. The beat still thumps, but now I can tell it’s a heartbeat. I can also tell that what I thought was a rock beneath me is a body. A hot, muscled, hard body. Something tickles my nose, and I lift my head an inch to find a pillow of bright yellow feathers under my face. Slowly, I tilt my gaze past the feathers, up the thick wiry neck until I meet the bright orange eyes from my dream staring blankly down at me.
Did you sleep well, Sheh?
The lids lower slowly.
I didn’t really get a chance to look at this dude before, but as he watches me rise from the cradle of his chest, I let my eyes roam over his expressionless face.
He’s…strange looking. Not Lyqa strange. He isn’t that jumble of familiar features matched in all the wrong ways until they make something beautiful.
Like his body, this dude’s face looks strong. That’s it. He has a strong face. The planes are both sharp and blunt. His cheekbones rise and then cut down on a steep angle only to flare back out on a chiseled jaw. His nose is narrow, but also flat. The sightly flared nostrils twitch. It is the only movement of his face. I push up to my butt, putting some space between us. A brisk wind whips around my body, and I immediately wish I was warm again.
Use my warmth. You do not do well in the cold.
He lifts to his elbows and holds a hand out to me. I stare at the large palm and then back up to his face.
Even though I want to, I don’t lay back down. I fold my arms across my chest, covering my bare shoulders with my hands. It does nothing. I’m freezing.
Please share my warmth, Sheh. I offer it freely.
I ignore the flat voice in my head and look around. We’re in the middle of a bunch of trees. It’s a small space. Behind me, a circle of rocks with a pile of charred sticks in the middle shows the remnants of a fire.
I thrust my hands out, hoping to catch whatever heat is left.
I will build the fire.
I lean back when he rolls to his feet in one, smooth motion and stalks off into the nearby trees, leaving me sitting alone. He’s a big dude, but he moves soundlessly away, and it goes quiet almost immediately.
I stare at the spot where he disappears, and after what seems like forever, I start to wonder if he’s coming back.
I have not left you. I would not leave you, Sheh.
A twig snaps, and he steps back into the space. I scramble out of the way when he moves up to the fire pit. He drops to his heels and dumps the twigs in, then leans low and blows gently at the base. It crackles to life, and fire licks up.
I rush forward on my knees and hold my hands out again. My palms warm, but the rest of me is still being assaulted by the wind at my back.
Please, Sheh, share my body heat.
He settles behind me, and I tense, instinctively shifting away. But then the heat that rolls off of him whispers over my chilled skin, and before I know it, I’m leaning back against the bumpy wall of his chest as he brings his arms around my middle. His thick legs cradle my lower body. He’s stiff. The hands that rest lightly over my stomach are rigid.
br /> Just like in my dream, I let him hold me. It doesn’t feel bad. Granted, I’m the kind of person who can get comfortable anywhere. Still, it’s more comfortable than I expected.
We sit in silence for a while. The bright orange sun slants through the trees. The nearby trees are leafless and covered in frost. The branches stab overhead like boney claws.
“Where are we?”
We are in the Northern Wood, but we cannot stay long. We must continue to the mountains.
I angle my head to the side to look up at him. His eyes are bright on my face.
“You really can’t talk out loud?”
I can.
His full mouth is clamped tight. A wavy lock of gray hair falls over his forehead as he stares down at me.
“Then why don’t you?”
My kind do not generally speak vocally, and other beings find our voices to be unpleasant.
I snort.
“For real? Let me hear it. It’s probably not that bad.”
I holds that blank stare. His throat is right in front of my face. The muscles roll as he clears it. It’s like a car trying to start, and I fold my lips in so I don’t laugh. This does not sound like it’s going to be pretty.
“H—”
My eyes widen, and he pauses. Yikes. He hasn’t even said a full word, and I can’t tell if he’s trying to speak or hock a loogie. His throat engine turns over again.
“H—hello, Sheh.”
I start, my head snapping back. The first word is as harsh as I expect. It’s like the grinding of bad brakes. But when he says my name, or rather his weird version of my name, it softens to a deep, breathy sigh and sets off a flurry of tingles that skitter through my belly. I look down. Behind the thin material of my Lyqa dress, my nipples tighten and poke out, and it ain’t from the cold.
SOLUANITIAT’TI SOMIITI’UN
Sheh’s expression is confused. An image of my mouth repeats in her mind as she recalls me saying her name over and over. Sheh. Sheh. Sheh. Sheh. It is almost as if she enjoys it.
My voice does not offend you?