Page 10

Iris

When I woke up this morning, I never expected I’d meet one Krijese, let alone two of them. I also certainly hadn’t expected to open up old wounds I thought long sealed. Maybe I needed to, though. Because it’s pretty obvious I have some unresolved hurts to heal.

“Neither Sorin nor I meant to bring up painful memories. We did not intend to cause you harm.”

I wave off Kala’s concern no matter that I appreciate it. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’ve never been able to hide any parts of me so it’s not like I’m going to start now.”

“You should not hide anyway,” Sorin says.

This little boy really is too good. Far too often, the sisters at the orphanage would scold me for being too inquisitive. They would tell me that too much knowledge was dangerous. Especially a female from the bottom tier. Those from the upper tier wanted to keep us ignorant.

God forbid should we learn and know too much. It would mean us realizing that every promise they ever made about wanting to make our lives better was nothing more than a lie.

“How about I make you a deal? You keep asking questions and gaining knowledge and I will stop hiding.” I extend my hand to Sorin who glances down at it and back up to me with the small tilt to his head.

“Why are we doing this handshake thing again if it is a greeting between people? We have already met.”

A grin splits my lips. “A handshake has more than one meaning. It’s not only a greeting, but a way to seal a bargain.”

He slips his small hand into mine. It has a slightly different feel to it than his father’s. Sorin’s is softer, less calloused. It also doesn’t make my own palm sweat.

“We shall make this deal, then. You do not hide while I continue to learn.” He and I shake on it before he glances up at Kala. “You should make this same deal with Gogo. He is always wanting to increase his knowledge of things as well.”

My cheeks grow warm.

“I do not require any deal to be made to trust Iris’s word that she will not hide. Hers with you is enough for me.”

“But you need to be able to ask questions as well,” Sorin insists.

Kala’s mouth opens, and I’m sure he’s about to argue further, but I’ve learned it’s best to pick your battles. I shove my arm out toward the elder Krijese. “No, it’s fine. We can shake on it too.”

Slowly, he grips my hand and the slight abrasion of his calloused skin against mine makes a shiver dance across the back of my neck and travel down my spine.

“We have this deal as well,” he says.

I clear my throat. “Looks like it.”

Kala releases the hold he has on me, but his gaze remains. The shadows in his eyes almost appear to shift and swirl. It’s fascinating. He blinks and they stop moving. Either that, or I only imagined the entire thing.

“We should make our way to the line if we wish to eat.”

His words break whatever this weird tension is between us, and I wipe my palm on my pants.

It’s a habit I developed at the orphanage anytime my anxiety levels spiked slightly.

And as much as I don’t really want to admit it, there’s something about Kala that has me off-kilter. I nearly jump to my feet.

“I’m ready.”

He rises far slower than I did. Same with Sorin, who stares at me with his small head cocked a smidge to the left like he can’t figure out why I’m so twitchy.

With me in the lead, I walk to the end of the line.

Luckily, it always moves fast so before I know it, we’re through with a plate full of some seasoned meat, a root vegetable, and a type of bread made from a recipe one of the human women has been trying to perfect over the last year I was told.

Kala, Sorin, and I take our seats again. We eat in silence for several minutes before Kala speaks.

“How do you enjoy the food on Tavikh?”

“It’s excellent. Took me a while to get used to some of it, but everything’s been really good.” Way better than the protein bars I’ve eaten my whole life.

“Do you not have this kind of meal where you come from?” Sorin asks.

“We don’t. The part of Earth where I lived was only given these hard bars that provided sustenance, but not much more than that. We had to dip them in water that wasn’t nearly as clean as the river here to soften them enough to not hurt our teeth.”

Sorin’s silver-sparked eyes widen. “Our tribe does not have much, but at least we are able to hunt beasts that provide us meat to eat. Moshi even shares his with Ashrif sometimes. Gogo does with me as well.”

I lean over and stroke the top of his head. “You’re a lucky little boy, that’s for sure.”

“Gogo would never let you go hungry, either, if you were part of our village.”

Of course, I can’t help but glance over at Kala with my cheeks growing warm.

He stares back at me with that intent way of his.

Funnily enough, I don’t think there’s anything to read into with its intensity.

I feel like that’s always how the older Krijese is.

But it’s certainly becoming clear that Sorin has some ideas about things. I turn toward the young boy.

“I’m sure your gogo takes excellent care of all members of your tribe.”

“He does. I only wish there was someone to take care of him in the same way.”

It takes every bit of effort I possess to not glance Kala’s way again. “Maybe one day he’ll find someone.”

Sorin shakes his head. “There are no Krijese females left.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Perhaps you?—”

“Sorin,” Kala barks out his son’s name in a harsh enough tone that I flinch and people’s heads turn our direction.

The young Krijese snaps his mouth closed with an audible sound and ducks his head.

I feel bad for him, but it’s not my place to get in between father and son, so I keep quiet.

Kala doesn’t say another word either. Nor does Sorin.

Instead, the three of us eat in an uncomfortable and awkward silence.

I know I should attempt some neutral conversation topics, but none come to mind.

Finally, we all finish our meal and Kala holds his plate out to Sorin. “Take these to the fire so they can be washed. If Iris is finished, you may take hers as well.”

“Yes, Gogo.” He stands before me, but won’t meet my eyes. “Have you eaten your fill, Iris?”

I carefully place my empty plate on top of the two he has stacked together. “I have, thank you.”

Sorin nods and slowly heads for the fire where everyone places their empty dishes when they’re done for the people assigned to wash them to gather up. I keep watch.

“Please excuse my kit.”

I turn my head to face Kala, his gaze locked on Sorin. Although his face is far different than the Tavikhi’s and a human’s, I can somehow still read it. Or at least I think I can. Written on it is regret—I assume for snapping and hurting his son’s feelings—but also embarrassment.

“Can I ask where Sorin’s mother is?”

Kala’s attention shifts to me. “Dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He inclines his head but doesn’t say anything.

“How long has she been gone, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It has been about five sun cycles.”

My forehead wrinkles. “Sorry, I don’t know how long that is.”

“He is currently almost ten sun cycles in age and she has been gone since he saw five sun cycles.”

Ah, that makes sense now. “On Earth we would call sun cycles years, I think.” So, Sorin is ten years old and his mom has been gone since he was five.

Which also means the older Krijese has been without his wife for five years as well. That must be hard, especially if there are no women left. “I’m sorry for the loss you both experienced.”

“She was not my true mate.”

I study him for a minute. My gut tells me he didn’t mean to say that. “I’m sure you still cared for her. She was, after all, Sorin’s mother.”

“Perhaps she died because I did not care for her enough and that was my punishment.”

After growing up surrounded by nuns who shoved their religion down my throat, I’ve given up believing in any higher power. I know, though, that my views are my own and are skewed towards cynical so I try not to bash anyone else’s beliefs.

In this case it feels like I need to make an exception.

“No offense, but any god that punishes someone by killing a person they care about even in the slightest isn’t a god worthy of my devotion. Where I come from, we’re taught God is supposed to be merciful and loving. Not petty and vengeful.”

Kala cocks his head in the same way I’ve seen his son do several times today. “Perhaps you are right.”

I shrug a shoulder. “Maybe. Maybe not. Gods of any kind and I don’t really have a relationship so I’m probably not the best person to be handing out religious advice.”

“It is sound advice.”

“I’m sure there are others who would disagree with me.”

Kala mimics my shrug and it’s such an alien gesture for him that I can’t help the fact my mouth curls in a small half-smile.

Sorin returns just then still looking glum.

I shouldn’t encourage a closeness between us since I don’t want to give him mixed messages, but I pull him in for a hug anyway, because it breaks my heart to see him sad.

“Thank you for being so sweet and for inviting me to have dinner with you.”

He returns my hug and I breathe in the woodsy scent that clings to him. “Will you still let Gogo teach you to throw a war axe so you might go hunting with us?”

I really should say no. “Yes.”

Sorin squeezes me tighter and I extend the hug a little longer, even knowing I shouldn’t encourage his affection.

“Come,” Kala says. “We need to return to our village.”

The young boy finally releases me and steps over to his father’s side. The elder lays his hand on his son’s shoulder and it’s clear how much love they have for each other. Sorin leans his head against Kala’s side.

“I enjoyed the meal.” I feel like I should say something.

“As did I.” Kala dips his head. “If you are truly still interested in learning to hunt, I will ask one of the warriors to bring you to the base of the hill where we have settled and meet you there on the next turn.”

“I don’t want to be a problem for you.” Or for the Tavikhi.

“There is no problem.” He sounds so sure that I guess I have to believe him.

“All right. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Kala guides Sorin away from the central fire and in the direction where the front gate lies. I keep standing there, watching and questioning the decision I just made.