“What?” she snapped.
“There. Do you see it?”
“See what?”
“There.”
“You’ve got special alien eyes or something. I don’t see shit.”
“Yes, I have enhancing pigment, but it is not required for this. Look harder. You can do this.”
Darla was going to mouth off but held back. Instead she squinted her eyes, searching for whatever it was he was talking about. It took her a minute but then she actually saw something. Smoke in the distance. A different kind of smoke, to be exact.
“Yes,” he said when he saw her register the tendril wafting into the air. “Judging by the changed color of the treetops, something large came down in that area. Likely another section of the Raxxian ship. And this time it does not appear to be ablaze.”
“But the smoke?”
“Normal for so rough a landing, especially with emergency deceleration.”
Darla felt the anger ebbing from her body, slowly replaced by a modicum of hope.
“This means there might be other survivors, right?”
“There might be, yes.”
“So when do we leave?
Heydar smiled wide. “As soon as you join me on the ground.”
With that he scampered down the branches, landing on the soil below with catlike grace.
“Sonofa—fine. Gimme a minute.”
Darla descended much slower than he did, taking her time to make sure she didn’t fall. It seemed her alien companion was testing her.
Or pushing her.
Or maybe both.
It was annoying, no doubt, but unlikely as it was, she also found herself kind of enjoying it in a strange way. He had pushed her outside of her comfort zone and she had excelled.
She hated to admit it, but it felt good.
As soon as her feet hit the ground Heydar turned his back and started walking.
“Okay, then. I guess we’re heading out,” she grumbled, brushing off her hands and hurrying after him.
They made much better time now that it was full daylight. A decent night’s sleep hadn’t hurt either. Both added up to the pair covering a fair amount of ground at a quick pace. Heydar forged ahead, but it seemed he had been holding back a little more so Darla wouldn’t have to push so hard to keep up.
Was he taking it easy on her? Not by a long shot. But she had earned a bit of respect, and he was treating her less like an annoying human anchor slowing his roll and more like a fellow survivor, even if she was lacking the requisite tattoos. And she was keeping pace, holding her own, no matter how much her legs and lungs were objecting.
Twenty minutes into their walk, Heydar held up his hand, signaling to stop.
“What is it?” Darla whispered.
Heydar slowly raised his hands high, nodding for her to do the same. “We mean no threat,” he said to the foliage.
So much for being a badass fighter, she thought with a chuckle.
Nevertheless, Darla copied him, hands up in the air though they were clearly alone in the woods.
A rustling nearby startled her, but not nearly as much as the appearance of a dozen wiry, primitive hunters with spears in their hands and knives on their belts. That quickly made her reassess that position.
Where the hell did they come from? Darla wondered.
They were a pale green color and shorter than Heydar, though still taller than most humans. They were lean and strong from a life of activity outdoors. They had tunics but most were pulled loose and tucked into their waistbands. As a result, Darla got a good look at their exposed torsos, covered in a latticework of delicate tattoos of a variety of colors.
Where Heydar’s were bolder in design and heavy in pigment, these people opted for a more subtle approach. But one thing seemed the same. Namely, the runes inked into their skin. It appeared this means of tapping into the pigment’s power was universal across species. And that meant the translation runes tattooed behind each of their ears should still work here.
“We mean you no harm,” Heydar repeated. “I am Heydar, of the Nimenni.”
“We recognize as much,” the hunting party leader said, lowering his spear. “I am Adzus. Your people are welcome among the Oraku.” His attention shifted to the design peeping out from Heydar’s torn shirt, but he said nothing of it, instead turning to Darla. “And you? I am not familiar with your race.”
“Human,” she said. “We’re not exactly what you’d call space travelers.”
“The Raxxians took her and several others from her world,” Heydar clarified.
“Raxxians,” Adzus said, spitting with disgust. “We are no friends of the Raxxians.”
Heydar nodded. “Very few are.”
“And you? How did you come to be among them?” the hunter asked.
“Captured in battle and held for longer than I care to admit.”
Adzus nodded solemnly. “Then you would do well with a proper meal and a hot bath, both of which the Oraku will gladly provide you. Come, our village is no more than a few hours trek from here.”
“Thank you, Adzus, your hospitality is much appreciated,” Heydar replied.
“Yeah, thanks,” Darla added, wondering what new sort of strange alien situation she’d just landed in.
CHAPTER TEN
The trek back to the Oraku village was a surprisingly smooth and easy one. Having locals intimately familiar with the terrain certainly didn’t hurt. It was nevertheless a fairly long walk, and by the time they reached the primitive home of their new friends, Darla’s legs were aching.
She had done her best to mind her tongue as the hunters talked quietly about her, thinking she couldn’t hear them. One thing she had always had was a keen sixth sense and an equally attuned ear for bullshit. And this band of sweaty, muscular hunters were talking their fair share, even as they carried their kills between them, the dead and cleaned animals slung on a long pole.
Where Darla was concerned, it seemed that once they got past her smaller stature and decidedly unusual coloration, the curves of her body had managed to draw a different sort of notice, and from more than one of them.
It seemed that there was something of a skewed ratio of males to females in their tribe, and the arrival of fresh meat was making more than one of them stare with barely hidden interest.
“Do not worry about them,” Heydar said. “You are a novelty, but without the Infala marked on your body there is no hope for a union.”
“The what? Oh, you mean that tattoo you were talking about.”
“It is more than just that. The living pigment within the rune bonds its owner to their mate, though it is often a difficult process finding them.”
“What, so your magic markings don’t pull you together like magnets?”
“You feel the draw in the general area, but until you lay eyes on your mate’s Infala, you are left to wonder upon whom it resides. And where.”
“So, it’s like an Easter egg hunt.”
“I do not know what this Easter egg is. But it is a hunt of sorts, yes.”
“And that’s how you found your partner? A random feeling drawing you together?”
His jaw twitched. “I am unbonded. But that is how it works, yes.”
This tidbit was news to her, but then learning all about the strange alien mating rituals was more than a little out of her depth. All she did know was that so long as she wasn’t all inked up, the interest of the hunters was merely academic.