Page 6 of Resisting the Alien Rider

I tried to picture Garrek as a similarly gaunt-faced, big-eyed child.

A child who’d grown into the rough-voiced and even-rougher-mannered male before me now. A male suddenly saddled with a traumatized new convict-ward who may or may not have gone ahead and burned most of his ranch, his home, to ash.

What a mess.

And even as I saw the mess — the mess of twomales broken so early in their lives and trying to clumsily stick the jagged pieces back together — even as I wanted to wade hip-deep into it, I knew I couldn’t.

I wasn’t Garrek’s bride. I wasn’t his family. I wasn’t even his friend. And I wasn’t Killian’s mother or guardian or therapist. I’d only be with them for this little slice of in-between time until I started my new married life and left them both behind.

I couldn’t get too involved.

I’d made that mistake once before back on Terratribe II. I’d promised myself I’d never do it again.

But even with this in mind, my eyes were already scanning the area for Killian, and I couldn’t deny the little smile of relief when I spotted him. He had tied his black shuldu Kinnar along with Shanti and a third spare mount to stumpy trees that seemed to make a little natural barrier between the dusty, open plains and this area of forest.

Killian was now dutifully taking the saddles and packs from the animals, his movements quick but careful, as if he didn’t want to poke or prod the shuldu too much after their long day. But apparently that efficient gentleness only applied to the animals and not what they carried. I winced a little, and then heard Garrek sigh, when we observed Killian promptly hurl the saddles, packs, and other items off to the side. Even for his young age, he was about as tall as me and clearly very strong. Everything sailed through the air then landed heavily in a chaotic pile.

Good thing I wrapped anything breakable in clothing, I thought to myself as I approached the pile of stuff andfished out my bag. I thought of my little ship in a bottle and was grateful to past-me for packing it so carefully.

“Thank you, Killian,” I called over to him, lifting my bag up in a gesture to let him know I’d retrieved it. Killian whipped his head to me so fast, and with such astonishment, I would have bet good credits that he’d never had somebody thank him for something before. My chest pinched, and I fought to keep the smile plastered on as his big white eyes searched my face.

I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder and walked over to him.

“I appreciate it, sweet pea,” I said, patting his bony shoulder. Unlike Garrek, who wore that vest, Killian seemed to adhere to the same set of style rules that governed Silar and Fallon. Which meant he was shirtless basically all of the time.

“Sweet…”

Killian didn’t speak much, but every time he did, I was shocked and delighted by his voice. It was the cutest dang kid voice I ever could have conjured. The often-serious expression on his face and the somewhat hunched set of his shoulders made it seem like his voice should have been kind of croaky and grumbly, but it wasn’t. It was sweet and a little tremulous, a little uncertain.

“Sweet pea. It’s a human term of endearment. Is it alright if I call you that?”

He looked genuinely confused by the idea of a pet name like sweet pea, but he eventually mumbled his agreement that it was alright.

“But you just let me know,” I told him quickly, “ifany of my weird human quirks bother you. If I do something you don’t like, say it loud and proud, sweet pea. You won’t hurt my feelings.”

Once again, he gave me an odd, confused sort of look. He took off his hat, revealing more of his tangled, dusty white hair and reached up to tug on his round, mouse-like right ear.

“I like all the stuff you do.”

I gave a loud, genuine laugh. From across the beginnings of our camp, where he was bent over doing something fiddly with a rope, I saw Garrek’s head snap up sharply at the sound.

“Well, you haven’t known me very long,” I told Killian, still chuckling and giving him another gentle pat on the shoulder. “Give it some time. I’m very aware of the fact that you and Garrek are doing me a huge favour. I want to help out and make sure I’m not bugging you too much.”

I would have said, “I want to make sure I’m not bugging youguystoo much,” but I had a feeling no matter what I did, Garrek was going to be bugged. A lot. The man gave me majorstressed-out-dad-who-regrets-bringing-his-kids-campingenergy.

Oh, well. He was a grown-ass man and he could go on and be grumpy about my presence if he wanted to. Killian, though? I really wanted him to be comfortable around me. It must have taken a lot to get used to Garrek and this world, and now here I was, yet another brand-spanking-new variable to contend with. Whatever he’d done in the past, I truly believedthere was still so much good inside this child. He deserved to have some peace.

Killian didn’t seem to have anything else to say, so I gave him a little nod and strode over to Garrek.

“Anything I can help with?”

“Yes,” he said, straightening. “Set up your tent.”

Uh oh.

“Was I, er, supposed to have one of those?”

I did have quite a few useful supplies tucked away in my bag. Clothing, toiletries, some handy little tools and medical supplies. I even had a fancy thermal blanket that was so efficient and thin it folded up into a pouch no bigger than my thumb.

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