Page 34 of Alien Prince’s Fake Bride (The Tentacle Throne #1)

- Mareliux -

Umbra is cold and business-like when she tells me that the escape pods from my own flagship are not well stocked.

“Very well,” I say drily, “but now tell me how you really feel.”

She gives me a quick, worried look. “Of course I don’t mean to?—”

“No, no,” I assure her. “No need to retreat. Stand your ground. You’re right. It does look a little lacking. The water problem I think we can deal with. I spotted some fruits over where I crashed.”

“In the worst case, we can dig,” Umbra points out. “This is such a humid jungle that there’s bound to be liquid water under the surface. Maybe just a few feet down.”

I regard her with new interest. And also because I like looking at her. “You speak as if you’ve been in a similar place before.”

She kicks at the loose ground. “All Space Force personnel have to take survival training in a jungle. And in a desert. One week in each. It’s in case we have to abort a launch or we’re forced to land our craft in some dangerous or deserted place on Earth. It has happened.”

“That sounds both shockingly primitive and charmingly pragmatic,” I marvel.

“Spacefarers having to prepare for their ship maybe not reaching orbit. It’s like something out of the ancient histories.

But it makes a strange kind of sense. All right, Umbra.

I declare that you are in charge of keeping us fed and hydrated.

I will see if we can be kept safe from the wildlife.

Or maybe he was the only one.” I glance in at the dead monster in Umbra’s pod. “I wish we could get him out of there.”

Umbra shakes her head. “He was only barely able to get in. You want him out, you may have to cut him into pieces.”

I nod, not relishing the idea. “It’s our only shelter. And it could be quite safe, but we need him gone. Don’t wander off, Umbra. Stay close.” I draw Bellatriz. “Sorry, old girl. I know you only want to be used for fighting, not butchery. But this is not a normal situation.”

“ Wait,” the sword chirps. “ How will it help if you get the carcass out of there? There’s still a lake of his blood in the pod. It’ll be very sticky to walk in, and it’s going to stink to high heaven. You won’t be able to lie down.”

“Ah. Good point.” I replace her in the sheath, then walk around the pod to the other end, the rounded one.

Standing under it, I try to lift the pod up on one end to pour the blood out of the hatch. But while the pod is a hollow cylinder, the walls are coated in heavy ceramics, thick enough to handle an atmospheric entry without melting.

“That didn’t work,” I report. “We may have to use that pod only as a shelter in emergencies.”

I check on the radio beacon, which is still flashing. “Assuming the Gladiux is in this solar system, will they be able to pick up the signal?”

“ I don’t know,” Bellatriz says. “ Too many variables.”

Umbra checks with her AI. “They will. There aren’t any other radio sources here, except for cosmic radiation. The beacon isn’t powerful, but it should stand out to any spaceship.”

“ Is that Virea telling you that?” Bellatriz asks. “ I wouldn’t trust that Stone Age thing. She keeps doing strange things on some really unusual frequencies.”

“She’s never failed me so far,” Umbra says calmly. “And her name is Vera . I’m surprised you haven’t been able to store that simple piece of information correctly, Bellatriz. Are you sure you’re not the ‘Stone Age thing’?”

Bellatriz translates with an icy voice. “ I may be ancient,” she adds. “ But at least I’m not strapped to someone’s wrist like a simple timekeeping device .”

There’s a loud, rude-sounding beep from Umbra’s AI, which I suspect contains a long, acid response.

Bellatriz gasps. “ Dull blade?! Why you little sundial , I’ll have you know ? —”

I grab Bellatriz’s hilt loosely to shut her up. “Let’s not make enemies where there are only friends. Umbra, you have more training for this than I do. Should we build a shelter?”

Umbra thinks about it. “Looks like the sun is setting. The first thing we should do is to secure our position. We’re pretty exposed here.”

We spend a good amount of time building obstacles around Umbra’s pod.

I cut down smaller trees with Bellatriz, against her loud protests, and heap them up in a loose, semi-circular barricade that should at least keep small predators out of the way.

Umbra builds a simple shelter, basically a lean-to with a roof that I highly doubt will keep any rain out. But it’s not bad.

When we’re done, the sun is definitely setting and the jungle has become much darker. The beacon is still flashing steadily, showing no sign of its signal having been picked up.

Umbra builds a fire, and Bellatriz whines a great deal before she uses a strange effect of her phase-shifting ability to create a small, but intense ball of glowing, green plasma that lights it. Soon we have a good blaze going while we’re breaking open the first of the emergency rations.

The contents are bland and have a consistency that’s just on the tolerable side of disgusting.

“Tomorrow morning we’ll find some fruits,” I promise, making a face as I finish the pack after Umbra’s eaten her fill. “This stuff is really only for use in the most dire of emergencies, and I can’t imagine I’ll ever be in an emergency so bad that this becomes tempting.”

“It’s not fancy,” Umbra agrees, wiping her lips. “But if it keeps us alive, I won’t complain.”

The jungle is surprisingly noisy, even at night. There’s a constant rustle from the undergrowth, there are distant sounds of what may be large monsters fighting, there’s an occasional crack like a distant gunshot, and creatures up in the trees are making shrill shrieks.

Despite having Bellatriz in my belt for defense, I’m happy that we have the fire. “This is a lively planet.”

“Very,” Umbra agrees. “I’ve been to one jungle on Earth, and it was not like this. This place is lethal. You saved my life, Mareliux.”

I grab a stick and poke the fire. “From the monster? It seems likely. It was a big brute.”

“From the monster and from the Vyrpy. Up in the ship. I think they would have killed me.” She picks a straw and chews on its end.

Satisfied with the fire, I lean back on straight arms. “They wanted to kill both of us. Getting you away from the fight was the only thing that could work. I’ve fought Vyrpy many times, and I know how many I can handle on my own.

Eight is too many. They can walk on walls and ceiling as easily as the ground.

And they’re fast. They’re extremely hard to defend against. More so now than before, it seems to me. ”

“You could have escaped the way we came. There was nothing in your way.”

“Is there a point to this?” I growl, not happy about the implications. It is extraordinary that an Imperial prince risks his life for a relative nobody like Umbra. An alien, even. It’s not the easiest path to the Tentacle Throne. But the real reason is one I don’t want to think about right now.

She gives me a quick glance. “Just to say thank you. You’ve risked your life for me several times now.”

“And you’ve thanked me an equal number of times. So I’ll just say ‘you’re welcome’ once and for all. Now, see this?” I show her a dry little twig, then toss it on the fire. “Take it out of the fire using only Syntrix.”

“All right.” She straightens and stares at the twig.

I relax and reach out a little thread of Syntrix, sensing Umbra’s. I stay ready to sever that connection if it becomes too strong, like during the wedding.

The twig trembles, clearly illuminated by the fire around it.

I’m tempted to use my own Syntrix to help Umbra with her control, but she needs to handle this on her own.

“Both see the twig and feel it in your mind,” I instruct. “Realize that you can take it and move it as easily with the Syntrix as with your hand.”

The twig suddenly catches fire. At the same moment, it flies away into the dark, still aflame. It lands in a bush and stays there, burning cheerfully.

“That was too much,” Umbra says. “Wait.” She stands up and steps on the twig, extinguishing the fire. “Better not set fire to the jungle.”

“It was good,” I state. “Good, but too enthusiastic. Try again. Smaller amount of Syntrix. Think of it as a gentle nudge, not a full-body shove.” I point to a pebble near the edge of the fire. “This time, just lift the pebble and move it to the other side of the fire.”

Umbra nods while her brow furrows in concentration. She fixes her gaze on the pebble. It wobbles precariously.

“Easy now,” I murmur, keeping my own Syntrix carefully leashed. “Think delicate. Like you’re picking up a dry leaf.”

Suddenly, the pebble shoots upwards with surprising velocity, not across the fire, but straight up. It hangs suspended in the air for a moment, spinning rapidly, before zipping off at an angle and clattering against Umbra’s escape pod with a sharp tink .

Umbra’s expression is a mixture of frustration and sheepishness. “Oops. Maybe too delicate that time?”

I chuckle. “Perhaps a tad overzealous on the ‘up’ impulse. Remember, direction is key. Visualize the path you want it to take. Try a bigger stone.”

She takes a deep breath and focuses again, this time on a slightly larger stone. Slowly, painstakingly, the stone lifts a fraction of an inch. It hovers there, trembling, as if unsure of its destination.

“That’s it,” I encourage. “Now, move it sideways. Gently.”

The stone promptly flips end over end, rolls twice, and then with a final, decisive plunk , lands directly back in its original spot.

Umbra groans, running a hand through her hair. “It’s like trying to herd cats with my mind! I tell it to go left, and it does… a somersault back home.”

“It takes practice. Think of your Syntrix as an extension of your will. Precise, controlled.” I pick up a small leaf. “Watch.” With a barely perceptible movement of my mind, the leaf lifts, twirls gently in the air, and then softly lands on my finger. “Okay, your turn again. The leaf.”