Page 17 of Claimed By the Krijese

“Iris and you can sit there, and I will sit on the ground.” Sorin points to the spot.

“You’re not sitting on the ground, young man,” Iris scolds. “We either sit someplace where we’ll all fit, or you and your father can sit together and I’ll eat with you the next time you’re in the village.”

“I can go sit with my friends so you and Gogo can share the bench.” My kit is nothing if not persistent.

“You invited Iris to eat with us. How do you think she will feel if you now decide to eat elsewhere? That is not what I have taught you.”

Sorin ducks his head, properly chastised. “You are right. I am sorry Iris.”

“Apology accepted.”

“We will go elsewhere so that we all may sit together.” There is an appropriately sized wooden seat not far from here.

I guide the two of them over to it. We will have to approach the fire soon anyway to be served our meal. We have adopted this way in my village as well. There are those who tend to each meal while the rest of the tribespeople form a line, and those responsible for that meal serve each person as they pass by. Different people rotate through the role so the same ones who serve others are given a chance to be served themselves.

Sorin is never without words and yet he sits silently between Iris and me. I glance over at her. She sits stiffly and her gaze travels everywhere, but to me or to my kit.

“How are you liking Tavikh? Do you miss your Earth?” The moment I ask, I regret it. If Iris misses her own planet, I should not bring up the fact.

Except she makes that melodic sound I have found to enjoy more than I expected and far more than I should. “There’s not much about Earth to miss. At least not for those of us from the bottom tier.”

“That is the part of your planet that does not have much?”

Iris cocks her head. “You know about Earth?”

“I know how your people are divided, but that is really the only thing.”

“So you don’t know that people from the bottom tier have to scrape and claw through life to even survive? We’re teased with opportunities forbetter, but every time we get a little closer to obtaining it, another obstacle is thrown in our way that’s meant to keep us exactly where we are. Of course, those who are offering the opportunity come up with some way to blame others. It’s never their fault we can’t get out of the shit hole they put us in in the first place.” Iris lifts her arm slightly. “Sorry, you probably didn’t care to hear my bitter take on my old life.”

“King Armik did the same to his people.” To me. To my tribe-brothers. “Our people were starving because he would take the food we hunted. Each time, he would tempt us with the opportunity to earn extra meat by defeating another Krijese in battle. He would hold great tournaments where he would pit his people against one another to fight for the right to eat. Thewinner would receive rancid meat and it was always another Krijese’s fault besides King Armik’s because they did not smoke it properly to keep it from going bad.”

“Your king sounds like a world-class prick. It’s probably a good thing he’s dead.”

My translator—one that was provided to our people by the Bohnari when I was Sorin’s age—tells me that prick is another word for cock. An unfamiliar rough, grating sound tears through my throat. Tavikhi and humans alike, including Iris, jerk their heads in my direction and stare.

“Gogo, did you just laugh?” Sorin stares up at me with wide eyes.

Is that what that noise was? It is not a sound I have ever produced before. Yet it came about because of Iris.

“You know, you should do that more often.”

I glance over at Iris. “Why is that?”

Her light-colored cheek darkens to match the other side again. “I didn’t mean to say that. At least not out loud.”

“Was it wrong to say?”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t suppose so.”

“Then you should always speak the truth.”

“You’re right,” Iris says.

“My question remains unanswered, though. Why should I do that more often?” Not that I will have many chances to do so since it is not a sound Krijese other than Sorin make.

“Because it makes you less…” her voice drifts off.

“Less what?”

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