Barbarian's Taming: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 9) (14 page)

I see no Pashov, though. No one is here. There is nothing but rock and dust. So much dust that it chokes me.

I turn to leave, to check the other caves, when I step on something soft. I lift my foot, thinking it to be more furs.

It is a tail.

I suck in a breath and drop to my knees, clawing at the fallen rubble surrounding me. In the dim light, I did not realize there was enough rock to cover a body. I see it now, hints of Pashov’s tunic buried under dust and debris. I dig him out and pull my friend free, flipping him onto his back. His head lolls, limp, and there is blood everywhere. One of his horns is completely crushed, and his brow is swollen.

He is dead.

Grief pounds through me, and I clutch my friend close to my chest. He is a good hunter. Strong. Always kind and calm. He has a mate and a kit. This should not be his fate. I howl my anger and loss to the caverns, but the sound hurts my throbbing ears. He deserves a good burial, my friend. One with the proper mourning songs and goodbyes. If I leave him here, he will have nothing.

Yet how can I take him out of the cave and present his mate with his body? It seems wrong.

I run my hand over his face to close his eyes. They are not open, though, and out of curiosity, I hold my hand under his nostrils. Warmth brushes against my skin, followed by a bubble of blood.

He is breathing.

Pashov is alive, but barely.

I must get him out.

I haul myself to my feet, even though my body is aching with pain. His limp weight is heavy, and I worry about injuring him more. I manage to drag him along to the hole I have made in the rubble, and fling the furs forward before trying to push him through. Sending him through feet first is difficult on my side, but I cannot send him through the other way and have him land on his wounded head. The tremors in the ground now are mere shivers, and the hole is not filling back up, which means I am able to slide his body to the other side. I crawl after him once that is done, and the rocks feel wet with blood. I do not know if it is his or mine.

By the time I slide out to the other side, my strength is failing. I am surprised at myself—I am a strong hunter, capable of traveling all day and completing any number of difficult tasks with ease. I cannot be tired now. Pashov needs me. Mah-dee needs me. I must get out before the ground begins to shake again. I picture Mah-dee’s face and imagine her weeping like Stay-see if I do not come out of the cave, and it gives me the strength to get to my feet. I take Pashov into my arms and carry him down the tunnel, and then must heft him onto the lip of the ledge that used to be floor before hauling myself up after him. I pick him up again, because the ground is trembling once more…or I am. It does not matter—I can see sunlight and what is left of the opening of the cave.

I stagger out into the sunlight, my friend in my arms, and there, my strength collapses. I drop to my knees, my head ringing. “He is not dead,” I say aloud, then remember I cannot hear myself, and likely no one else can hear me, either. I lift my head, searching for Maylak.

Someone collapses against Pashov—it is his mate, her hands moving over him. Her high-pitched screams sound like painful whines in my ears, and my head feels thick. I cough, and it seems like I cannot pull in enough air.

But then Maylak is there, and she is kneeling next to Pashov. And I am relieved, because that means he will be saved. She can heal him. Make him better. I want to comfort Stay-see with these words, but it feels like too much effort. All of my strength was used up to get him out of the cave. Even getting to my feet feels like a monumental task.

A hand extends in front of me. I look up, and it is Vektal. My chief. His face is grim and he is filthy with dust, but I can see the thanks in his eyes. I nod and let him help me to my feet, only to stagger forward a few more steps into the snow.

Gentle, cold fingers touch my hand, and I realize I am still clutching the parcel of furs. They are taken from me, and then the fingers touch my face, and I look into Mah-dee’s worried eyes.

I pull her against me and rest my brow on her shoulder. It feels so good that when I fall asleep, I do not even care.

I
stroke
Hassen’s brow as his head rests in my lap. He seems to sleep better when I touch him, so I run my fingers lightly over his forehead, over and over again, tracing his brows and trying to ignore the fact that it’s cold and I hurt and the world just kind of upended itself before breakfast.

Everything is…well, it’s crazy. There’s no other way to describe it.

The tribal cavern is gone. The big, hollow donut of a cave with the pool in the center and the cute little rooms for everyone to sleep in are completely demolished. It’s like the entire cliff collapsed in on itself. Someone told me once that the cave was probably hollowed out and made bigger by the elders when they crash-landed here, and I’m guessing that all those alterations to the rock ended up making it brittle. Then again, maybe it was the power of the earthquake. The ground still trembles now and then, reminding us that nowhere is safe.

I’m…surprisingly chill about the entire thing. Which is weird to me. It’s terrible and awful, but we’re alive. We’ll figure something out. Maybe I’m adapting quickly because I so recently arrived here. My world changed entirely when I woke up out of that pod to find big blue aliens hovering over me. That was a shock. This is sucky, but it’s small potatoes in comparison.

Hassen’s all right, and my sister’s all right, and that’s all that matters right now.

I caress Hassen’s cheek while he sleeps. He looks like one big bruise, the poor guy. There’s a gash on his forehead, and he’s covered in scrapes. One shoulder has a jagged, shallow cut, but he’s mostly dusty, I think. I’ve been gently washing him clean as he sleeps, doing my best not to disturb him. I worry that he’s sleeping, but I’m hoping it’s just the shock of adrenaline wearing off and that his surge of energy knocked him out and not something more serious. If it’s a head injury… The healer’s busy, and I don’t know when or if she’ll be able to help him.

I look over where Stacy is huddled near her mate’s side. Pashov is still laid out where Hassen put him down. She has his hand gripped tightly in hers, eyes hollow. The baby on her back is wailing up a storm, fists waving in anger. There are a lot of babies wailing, actually. Some parents, too, but I can’t blame them. Maylak still has her hands pressed to Pashov’s chest, her eyes closed and her expression one of intense concentration. She’s been doing that for a while now, and her face is starting to look hollow with exhaustion.

No one steps in. No one can. There’s only one healer, and so we all have to be patient and hope for the best. No one wants to be the person that calls her away, because then what if Pashov dies? I don’t know him well, but I know Stacy, and I’ve seen them interact. He clearly adores her and their baby, and they seem happy.

Seemed
, I guess. I stroke Hassen’s cheek again.

Pashov’s injury is severe, and the realization that Stacy might soon be a widow is a sobering one. I see others clinging to their mates, so I’m guessing it’s hitting home for everyone. Haeden sits on the snow with his mate cradled in his lap, holding her protectively. Nearby, Rokan is hovering over Lila, constantly touching her as if he needs to make sure that she’s all right and unharmed. She’s untouched by bruises, one of the few that made it out of the cave before the rocks started falling. And I feel nothing but relief at that. I’m so glad, because I don’t know what I’d do if it was Lila stretched out under Maylak’s hands, unmoving.

Or Hassen.

The thought creeps into my mind, and I shiver. Hassen went into the cave to save me. Both Asha and I had been sleeping when it all started, and it took me a few seconds to realize that what had woken me from sleep was the sound of gunfire. Which was weird, since there are no guns here. But then the ground shook, and I realized something else was going on. By the time Asha and I crawled to the entrance of our cave, it was too late—the hall had been blocked off by falling rock. For a few awful moments, I’d thought we were dead. No one was going to come for us. We’re not the most popular people in the tribe after all, and neither of us have mates that would look for us. We didn’t know what to do.

But then Hassen
came
for me.

Not just that, he dug me out, risking his own life. And he saved Asha, too. I mean, sure, maybe Hemalo was there, but all I could see was Hassen. He’s the one that risked himself to save me. And the look in his eyes was so intense and so fiercely protective that I felt…scared. Breathless and scared all at once, because I’m worried that I’m falling for the guy and I shouldn’t. I can’t choose between him and my sister.

I do know that what I’m feeling for him is becoming less and less casual as time goes on. Maybe it took a cave-in to realize just how much he’s coming to mean to me, but when he went back in for Pashov, I wanted to scream and stomp my feet. I wanted to hold him back and not let him go because it was dangerous.

And I’m pretty sure I didn’t breathe until he emerged again.

I stroke his brow thoughtfully, studying him again. He’s breathing evenly, and I relax a little. He’s fine. He is. A little banged up, but whole. And a bit of a hero after saving Pashov. I hope Vektal takes notice. I look around at the scatter of people out in the snow, and Vektal and Georgie both are going around to each little clustered family, checking on them. Someone’s building a fire right in the middle of things, which seems ridiculous, but then again, what choice do we have? We don’t know if it’s safe to go back into the cave, and a lot of us aren’t dressed for being outside for a long period of time. The chief and his mate are doing what they can to calm people, but there’s so much to be done. I can still hear babies crying, and the stack of furs that Hassen brought out is sitting in its bundle, unused. Nearby, Farli’s weeping and hugging poor Chompy, who looks like he has a broken leg.

Everyone’s in shock.

I think of Hassen, and how he didn’t hesitate to risk his life to rescue Pashov. I could be helping. Maybe it’s time I stop looking at myself as a victim. I’m stranded here, but these are good people, and I’m happy. It feels weird to say that while staring down a disaster, but I am. I have Hassen as a friend, and my sister is here, and I’m fed and looked after. And I can be more than I have been. I can do more than the minimum to stay alive. I don’t have to crawl in my bed like Asha and wait for the world to pass me by.

I can help.

I’m not in shock like the others. Some are banged up. Some have dried blood in their ears, and I wonder if the explosive bang of the earthquake busted a few eardrums. Nearby, Tiffany is shivering alone. I look for her mate and see Salukh standing near the healer, comforting a weeping Kemli and her mate, Borran. His parents. I’ve forgotten that Pashov is one of their sons…and Farli’s big brother. Poor Farli. She’s been a good friend to me, and she’s freaking out. This must be so awful to a teenager.

Oh man. I can do more than just sit here and smooth Hassen’s brows while he sleeps. I pull the fur wrap off my shoulders and bundle it into a pillow, then gently ease his head down onto the ground. Lila grabs at my hand as I get to my feet. She’s been crying, her face shiny with icy tears.
Where are you going?

I’m going to help
, I tell her.
Do what I can.

She nods and dashes at her cheeks, then squeezes her mate’s knee and gets to her feet, facing me.
What can I do?

God, I love my sister. How have I never realized how brave she is, just on a day-to-day basis? I reach out and give her a quick, impulsive hug. I still have my family. I’m good, no matter what. When I release her, I sign,
Can you pass out those furs?

She squeezes Rokan’s hand and dashes away. I watch him jerk to his feet and then stop, as if he plans to go after her. There’s a tormented expression on his face, as if he wants to smother her with protection and has to stop himself. “Can you watch Hassen for me? Let me know if he wakes up?” I ask him. He’s silent, and I realize he’s got blood in his ears, too. I tap his arm and sign my question, and he nods.

I immediately move to Farli’s side, just as Stacy’s baby starts to wail louder. I kneel next to Farli. She’s a hot mess, a large slice on her cheek, dirty from the cave-in, and her arms are covered in strange welts. “Are you okay?”

She turns teary eyes to me, clinging to her pet. “My brother—”

“He’s going to be fine,” I assure her, keeping my voice calm and reassuring. Funny how my bartending skills are coming into play now. Farli’s not a sad drunk, but I know how to soothe and make it seem like I’m in control of the situation. “Let’s take a look at your pet, okay?”

She squeezes him tighter, and Chompy bleats and bites at Farli’s arm, leaving another raised welt. Poor kid. She’s so freaked out she hasn’t even noticed. I gently pull him from her stranglehold, and he hobbles away a few steps, bawling. She immediately starts sobbing again. Shit. I’m no veterinarian, but his leg is clearly broken. With so many people banged up, there’s no way the poor healer is going to take a look at a pet. “We need to splint his leg. So he doesn’t walk on it. Can you get me a stick or a pole of some kind? A bone?”

Farli blinks at me, then sucks in a deep breath. “B-bone?”

“Yes. While your brother is getting healed, we’re going to fix Chompy, okay?”

She nods again, then slowly climbs to her feet. She wobbles a little but seems to recover when her pet bleats and moves a little closer, cautious. “I think Hemalo and the others were tanning…earlier…” Her lip wobbles.

“Okay, good. See if there are leather strips and a nice, sturdy bone. We’ll get him good as new, I promise.”

She wanders away, and the little dvisti limps after her. At least she’s moving and out of her stupor. I’m going to have to figure out how to brace a dvisti’s leg, but one thing at a time. Stacy’s baby wails even louder, and I head over there, because I can’t listen any longer and not do anything.

Asha seems to have the same idea I do, because we both arrive at Stacy’s side a moment later. She’s got Maylak’s infant in her arms already. “I’ve got this,” I tell her, and touch Stacy’s shoulder. “I’m going to take care of your baby, okay? You just stay here by your mate’s side.”

She doesn’t seem to hear a word I’m saying. Her entire body is focused on Pashov, her gaze flicking back and forth from the healer to her mate’s swollen, bloody face. He…doesn’t look good. Neither does Stacy, actually. She’s trembling, and I don’t know if it’s from fear or cold. I pull the baby out of his papoose-style wrap on her back, and he flails his hands, smacking my jaw and screaming at me.

“It’s all right, little buddy,” I tell him, jouncing him. I’m about as good with babies as I am dvisti, but hey, time to learn a new skill. “We’re gonna get you warmed up, okay?”

I look around for my sister with the blankets, and as I do, Ariana comes up to me, sniffling. She has an extra baby blanket with her, hugging her child close. “I grabbed several of Analay’s blankets when we ran out,” she tells me. “Do you need this one?”

“You’re a life-saver,” I tell her, and she smiles through her tears. “If you see my sister, can you tell her to bring Stacy a blanket? I think she’s cold.”

Ariana focuses on Stacy, and her expression softens, and then she looks at me again. “My Zolaya went to a nearby cave to get some supplies. I’ll give her mine until he gets back.”

“Good thinking,” I tell her. She hurries to Stacy’s side, removing her fur cloak and putting it gently around Stacy’s shoulders. I wrap Pacy in the fur and tuck him against my hip. His butt-wrap is wet, and I tug it off, then swaddle him in the blanket again. Going commando might not be the best thing for a baby, but it has to beat sitting in your own frozen pee. He calms down a little, hiccupping, and I bounce him on my hip, making faces at him. Okay, one problem down, and now I need to find Farli again. I look out over the scatter of people. A few are moving toward the fire, and I see Kira and Aehako standing near a man kneeling in the snow. He’s cutting at his horns and grabbing handfuls of snow and rubbing them on his face. Weird. His grief is palpable, though, and my heart clenches. We lost someone. I look over at the healer, but she’s still working on Pashov. Not him, then. I quickly glance over at Hassen, just to reassure myself, but he hasn’t moved. Someone else, then.

Farli comes back to my side, a long bone in her hand. “Will this work?”

I nod absently. Pacy babbles something and smacks my shoulder. I grab his tiny hand in mine. “Who’s that, Farli?”

“Warrek.” Her lip trembles, and her eyes fill with tears. “He is grieving. His father, Eklan…” She shakes her head. “He was old. Maybe he was not able to get out in time. He was kind, though. I liked him.”

One dead. Warrek’s pain tugs at me. “Who is he good friends with? Can we find him and have him go sit with him? He needs all the support he can get right now.”

“He has been teaching Sessah how to hunt and cares for him as if he is his own son. Perhaps him? Or Hemalo? They are close.”

“Both are good. You run and tell them to go help him out. That he needs friends right now. Give me the bone and I’ll work on Chompy.”

“The chief…”

I look over where Vektal was last. He’s moved on to Marlene and Zennek, wrapping a length of leather bandage around Zennek’s arm, which looks to be broken. “He’s doing the chief thing. I’m sure he knows. Right now we need to pull together and just do what we can, okay?”

She nods at me and races off. Chompy staggers after her for a step or two, then bleats. I snap my fingers at him, and he turns back toward me. “Come here, lil’ buddy. Me and my baby friend here are gonna make your leg all better. In theory.” I make kissy noises at him like he’s a dog, and he wobbles over to my side. Poor little guy.

I kneel down in the snow and try to figure out how I’m going to bandage a dvisti’s leg while Pacy yanks at handfuls of my hair and babbles nonsense in my ear. Something moves at the corner of my vision, and I glance up. It’s Lila. She stops waving and then makes an exaggerated gesture. Look. She points off into the distance.

I look.

And gasp.

There’s a plume of smoke rising in the distance. It’s like a finger pointing into the sky, leaving a smear of dirt as it goes. A volcanic eruption. I think of the hot spring inside the cave. It’s not the only one. Maybe this entire planet is a hotbed of tectonic activity and that’s why there are so many hot springs.