Page 5 of Cozy Prisons (Human Pets of Talin: Origins #4)

“I’m proving a point. Humans lost their homeworld but didn’t let that stop them. Your kind lives scattered among other species, managing to form communities and survive despite the odds. That’s not a trait of the weak.”

“Maybe we’re just stubborn,” she said.

She wasn’t smiling, but he could tell his words pleased her.

“You would need to be stubborn, but also clever, cooperative, and adaptable. You are one of the smallest sapient species in the universe, but that doesn’t make you weak. It makes you triumphant against the odds.”

“Do you really think that?” she asked, her shoulders going back a little as she straightened her spine as if to display all the qualities he’d listed.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe it,” he answered, sounding a comforting rumble. “That's why I know there had to be more wrong earlier than what you told Falkilm. When I first saw you, you were standing too stiffly and looked panicked. It was as if you were facing down a fearsome beast.”

She shook her head, almost violently. “You’re wrong. I wasn’t like that at all.”

He hadn’t expected blatant denial. Here was a perfect example of the stubbornness that helped her species survive, but was having a disastrous effect on Nataly individually.

“I know what I saw,” he insisted. “There is an internal battle going on inside you. I’d like to help you fight it.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then abruptly shut it tight. He watched her jaw flex, as if those muscles were working hard to keep her thoughts from escaping past her lips.

Standing up and almost upsetting the bench she was sitting on, she snatched up their empty plates. “There’s nothing wrong.”

He was quick to follow her as she deposited the dishes into a sanitizing unit. When she turned, he was right there.

She frowned. “I’m not going to say anything more because there’s nothing to say. Go harass someone else.”

It was clear he’d pushed too hard. He’d let worry override his good sense. “I still enjoy your company. Can I not continue to remain in close proximity if I don’t ask any more questions?”

“Hey everyone, it’s time to sing!” Merrick yelled.

Nataly’s expression lit up as she looked over to where everyone was starting to gather. “Oh fun!”

She rushed across the room, trying to leave him behind again.

He followed her over as everyone started singing a refrain about happy birthdays. He could see why a species in danger of extinction would celebrate another year of surviving, especially for a child.

Their tradition of making a large, sweet concoction they called cake and putting flames on it was interesting.

When they stopped singing, Merrick held his child, Maeve, so she could blow out the four flames on the cake. Everyone cheered and Maeve looked incredibly pleased with herself and reached for the cake with both hands.

Merrick just managed to pull her away before she could sink her fingers into the sweet treat.

“Maeve, no, no, let me cut you a slice first,” Grace, Maeve’s dam, admonished with a laugh.

Looking down, he noticed Nataly's pensive expression. She’d been happy and smiling moments before.

“Do you not like cake?” he asked.

She looked up, and at the same time, her fake smile appeared. “I love cake! Especially birthday cake.”

He sounded a rumble of affirmation. “Yes, I can see the importance of that. But for a moment, you almost seemed anxious about Maeve.”

Her frown turned to a scowl. “How about you stop guessing what I’m feeling or thinking and let me enjoy the party?”

A rumble of worry escaped him. He hadn’t meant to make her angry. “I apologize! I was only commenting on what I observed. It’s a habit.”

She tilted her head at him. “Habit? From what?”

“I was a mediator mavin,” he explained.” That’s a type of law keeper.”

For the first time, her expression turned sympathetic. “I bet you weren’t very popular.”

It was a keen observation. “It was a lonely occupation. Some thought my diligence was, uh, intrusive.”

“Intrusive? You? Never!” Nataly said with faux astonishment. He could tell she was teasing him, but he didn’t entirely understand the humor.

Memories of why he was no longer a mediator mavin filtered through his mind. He forced them away. “I like living here much better.”

“Nataly, this piece is for you,” Grace said, appearing next to them and holding out a plate with a slice far too big for one human to consume.

“Thanks!” Nataly said, giving Grace one of her rare, real smiles. Then she exaggerated how heavy the plate was by pretending to almost not be strong enough to hold it up. “Did you give me half the cake?”

“If you wanted it, you could have the entire cake,” Grace said. “Without you, there would be no cake because there wouldn’t be a Maeve.”

Water gathered in Grace’s eyes, and Daxus had a panicked moment. Liquid leaking from humans’ eyes was never a good thing! Should he get Healer Falkilm or pick Grace up and carry her next door to the medical building?

Holding the cake out of the way, Nataly leaned close and gave Grace a one-armed hug. “You did all the hard work, all I did was say a few words.”

Grace sniffed and hugged Nataly back. “You know you did way more than that.”

It appeared this eye water was emotional, not physical. Daxus relaxed a little, thankful he hadn’t given in to the impulse to rush Grace to Falkilm.

“I really didn’t,” Nataly demurred, pulling out of the hug. “Now stop those tears before one of the Talins panics!”

Grace gave a watery laugh. “The next thing I know, I’ll be spending the night in the medical building. I’d much rather enjoy the party.”

Nataly chuckled. “I bet Merrick and Maeve prefer that too.”

Daxus couldn't help himself, he had to ask. “What did Nataly do? How did she make it so Maeve is here?”

Nataly huffed. “I already said, I didn’t do anything.”

“She saved my life,” Grace countered, turning her full attention to him. “And that meant she saved Maeve’s life too.”

It seemed she was eager to share despite Nataly’s shake of the head, so he encouraged Grace. “How did she do that?”

“You’ve heard how bad it was on Dandilow II, right?” Grace asked, then continued when Daxus sounded an affirmative rumble. “When we got there, I basically lost all hope. I knew I was pregnant, but I gave up. I stopped eating, moving, or talking. I wanted to die.”

“You were a little depressed,” Nataly interrupted. “All you needed was someone to talk you out of it.”

“This wasn’t a little depression,” Grace said firmly.

“I’d lost my home, most of my possessions, and Merrick.

I thought I wanted to die. You lay down with me and talked.

Every free moment when you could be resting, you poured yourself into me.

You described a future without hunger or pain.

A place where we’d be safe and my daughter could grow up with all the resources a little girl might need. ”

“That was a good way to urge you out from under your sorrow,” Daxus said. Looking at Nataly, he sounded an approving rumble. “You should be commended for your loyalty and dedication.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Grace said, with far more conviction than he thought the moment warranted.

“She described this place. She talked about a village of little round houses surrounded by unbelievably tall trees. The forest didn’t have much except for the trees because they blocked so much light. Everything she described came true.”

Daxus sounded a rumble of amusement. “There are a lot of places that could fit that description. Forests with tall trees and mountains aren’t uncommon. And many species use the round style of prefabricated colony homes.”

Grace grinned up at him. “I guess, but then she told me about Maeve. She described my unborn child as if she’d already met her.

Hazel eyes, light brown hair, a button nose, and the birthmark on the back of her left leg.

She gave me so many details that I could picture Maeve.

That’s the reason I started eating and moving again, I wanted to meet my baby. That’s all Nataly’s doing.”

“How interesting,” Daxus said, unsure how else to respond.

He didn’t believe Nataly had any supernatural powers to predict the future.

He also understood that there could be instances where individuals could predict patterns with a seemingly preternatural accuracy.

Imagination and false memories easily explained the rest.

“I can tell you don’t believe me,” Grace said, with a little dismissive wave of her hand. “You don’t have to; Nataly will prove it to you.”

“No, I won’t be proving anything,” Nataly said. She handed the plate to Daxus then grabbed Grace by the shoulders and turned her around. “You need to save Merrick.”

They all looked over to the head of the table to see Merrick half laughing, half grimacing as Maeve tried to smoosh cake into his mouth and got it all over his face.

“More, Papa!” Maeve chortled as she reached for another handful of cake. “More burthdas cakes!”

“Oh good lord,” Grace muttered as she hurried off. “Everyone’s going to need to use the cleansing unit later!”

“Her speech isn’t very clear,” Daxus noted as Grace got close enough for Maeve to get her with a bit of cake. He hadn’t interacted with Maeve much. She was so tiny and delicate. He had the irrational worry that looking at her too hard might hurt her.

“Their nutrition was so bad the last few months that they were on Dandilow II that it stunted Maeve’s development a little,” Nataly explained. “But the healer on Progress said she wasn’t far below the normal developmental range. She could grow up to have only slight or no issues.”

“Even if there are deficits, she’ll never want for anything among us,” Daxus assured her.

She looked up at him with a smile so bright it lit up her eyes. The sight made his breath catch.

“That’s why I don’t care if we have to pretend to be pets,” she murmured. “Because without the Talins, Maeve would never get to grow up at all.”