“Skalla,” I said slowly. Then, with a small smile, “I like it.”
“I like hearing you say it.” A huskiness had entered his voice. Jolakaia, who could only follow half the conversation, backed subtly away to give us some privacy. But I didn’t want her to feel awkward. She’d housed us, given us clothes, and brought us the most amazing breakfast.
“Thank you so much for the food,” I said to her in Bohnebregg. As I spoke, Zev careened around the side of the house, claws already outstretched for a pastry from the tray.
“Was that Bohnebregg?” Zev quipped. Jolakaia snatched the tray away until she’d given her wife a good, long look. Zev’s apron was gone, and her hands and scales looked freshly washed. Zev was finally awarded a pastry. She popped it into her snout the exact same way Skalla had, swallowed, then looked at me. “Sorry, but you’re going to have to get old Skalla here to translate for you. I didn’t understand a single word that came out of that strange little mouth.”
“Old?” Skalla said. I caught the warning in his voice, but Zev didn’t. She snagged another pastry.
“Yes. Aren’t you? Old, that is? Kaia said you’ve been around for hundreds of strides of the Mother.” After swallowing her next pastry, she grinned. “Do not worry. Your scales have held up quite well for your age! Not as good-looking as your lovely Suvi, especially with the whole eye situation.” She gestured at Skalla’s scars, and Jolakaia looked like she wanted to slam her tray into her own face in embarrassment.
“I am sure Skalla is well aware of both his appearance and his age,” she said, sounding pained.
Skalla’s brow was drawn so low over his eye it looked like his scales might crack under the force of his expression. I patted his arm with gentle sympathy while trying not to laugh. There was truly no one, except perhaps Zev, who could look at him and see anything but a magnificent male specimen. But him getting all worked over the matter up was both funny and endearing.
“Don’t worry. I still think you look nice,” I whispered. Luckily, since I’d already said the same thing this morning, he had to be inclined to believe me instead of assuming I was trying to placate him now. Slowly, the look on his face morphed into something mostly neutral. Zev, completely unperturbed, reached for the tray once more only to find it empty.
“There are more inside,” Jolakaia said with a sighing laugh, already anticipating her wife’s question.
Zev took the empty tray and bounded away once more.
“And what will you two do today?” Jolakaia said. “I will be leaving for the temple soon. You are welcome to stay here, of course, either upstairs or down here with Zev. I’m sure she would appreciate the company. Though I will warn you, she will either talk your brains right out of your skull without stopping for breath, or she will become so hyper-fixated on her work that she will ignore you completely. There is no in between.”
I snorted when I saw Skalla’s reaction to that. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. His face did all the talking for him. He looked like he wanted to stay here and listen to more of Zev’s quips about how sort of OK-looking he was (for his age of course) like he wanted a spray of acid in his remaining eye.
“Skalla can do whatever he likes,” I said with a low chuckle, “but I was actually hoping to come with you to the temple, if that’s alright.”
Skalla looked surprised by that, and so did Jolakaia once he’d translated. I flushed under their questioning gazes.
“I just... I think I can help you,” I said quickly, feeling oddly defensive. “I know a lot of people got hurt when we... um... arrived here. I’d like to contribute to the temple in some way to at least try to make up for it. To atone. I’m good with plants, and I’ve worked in labs. I’m sure I could assist with mixing up the medications.”
“You need atone for nothing,” Skalla snapped, wings and tail twitching in annoyance. “I’ve already told you that.”
“Please, Skalla. Just translate,” I replied wearily, not wanting to have this argument again.
He glared at Jolakaia and did so, though not entirely faithfully. I noticed he left out anything about me wanting to atone and simply told her I wished to help out at the temple. I rolled my eyes but decided that was good enough, because Jolakaia was already agreeing.
“That will work well. It will be a busy mixing day for me. My patient rounds have been reduced now that you are well and all the Mother’s Claws’ bones are mending.”
I cringed, knowing exactly who had broken those bones and why. There was nothing I could do about what had happened now, but at least I could help out in some small way. Give something back, as paltry as the penance may be.
“If you’ve had enough to eat, then we shall go,” Jolakaia said. “You can ride with me on my two-wheel if you like, Suvi.”
“She will ride with me,” Skalla corrected.
“We do have a second one... But do you even know how to ride?”
Skalla looked irritated by the question even though it was a good one. Who knew if they’d had vehicles like these on the planet back when he’d been here last?
Skalla slung one powerful leg over the two-wheel Zev had been working on and got himself into position with ease that had to have come from muscle memory. If he hadn’t driven this precise sort of vehicle, he’d definitely been on something similar. He gripped the rounded steering mechanism in a way that looked very natural, then gave an affirming, sideways jerk of his snout.
“I remember. At least, my body does.”
“Alright, then. Just don’t go too fast. Children often dart out into the streets, and there are wagons that move more slowly. Plus, if you topple, Suvi’s skin will not hold up against the fall as well as scales would.”
Skalla scoffed, as if the very idea of me falling were ridiculous to him. And he kind of had a point with that – the guy literally had wings. He could just grab me and hop right up into the air to avoid the ground if needed.
It was decided. We would take the two-wheel and follow Jolakaia. Skalla got off the vehicle that still needed more work done on it and sat himself upon the newer one Jolakaia offered.
“I’m not sure I’m going to fit,” I said, looking at the thin strip of seat left after Skalla had settled himself. He shifted backwards as far as he could and spread his thighs wider, but I still had my doubts. I loved my body, but there was no mistaking it – I did not have a small ass.
Not waiting for me to make up my mind, Skalla seized on me with his claws, lifting me and plopping me down between his legs. I was instantly overcome by the nearness of him, the wall of muscle at my back and the massive legs closing in both of mine.
It turned out there was enough room left on the seat – sort of. I perched on the front edge with the pole holding up the half-circle steering apparatus alarmingly close to my crotch. It wasn’t like it was rubbing against me, though, so I figured this was alright for now. It would be almost as uncomfortably squishy a ride on Jolakaia’s two-wheel, because her seat was a little smaller than this one.
After a quick verbal lesson from Jolakaia on the ignition (a simple button) and steering (a very intuitive mechanism, much like a cross between handlebars and a tractor’s steering wheel) we were ready to be off. Skalla looped one arm around my waist, holding me fast, like a living seatbelt.
“You’re only going to steer with one hand?” I asked him.
“Technically, I could just use my power to steer it. I don’t need a hand on it at all.”
He moved his steering hand to my knee. His thumb drew a shivery circle on a bit of exposed skin as he demonstrated moving the steering mechanism this way and that without laying a single finger on it.