Page 2 of Cursed Alien

“All set,” she called, wiping her hands on a rag tucked into her belt.

Her father emerged from their workshop, the morning light accentuating the lines on his weathered face. He carried another wooden crate filled with their inventions—small mechanical toys, practical tools, and a few experimental gadgets they hoped would impress the northern villagers.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, unable to keep the worry from her voice. “We can just wait and send these with the traders to Port Cantor as we usually do?—”

“And lose half our profits to them,” he said dryly. “I know we don’t want to take the long trip to Port Cantor, but if we can find markets closer to home, we won’t have to rely on traders.”

She pretended to fidget with the bolt again so her father couldn’t see the look on her face. He was right that it was a long journey overland to the spaceport—a three month round trip by horse-drawn wagon—but he was wrong in assuming she didn’t want to go. She would have loved to have had the opportunity to interact with the type of technology that didn’t exist outside of the city.

Just because she could repair and construct almost anything didn’t mean she had the opportunity to do so. Instead, she was stuck in this village, fixing the same things over and over again. Her skills were being wasted here, but she could never tell her father that. Not when she knew how much he hated the city. Not when it was just the two of them.

She folded her arms across her chest, the worn fabric of her overalls pulling tight across her shoulders as she turned back to face him. “You know the mountains are Vultor territory.”

The Vultor were another race that had settled on Cresca, although they preferred the wild mountain regions to the farms and pastures most humans chose. Those differences had not prevented violent incidents between the two races, and she’d spent most of her childhood listening to tales that painted the Vultor as ruthless predators.

Her father finished securing the crate to the wagon bed and waved a dismissive hand.

“The mayor’s been negotiating with them for months.”

“Negotiations aren’t the same as agreements,” she countered, glancing up at the horizon where the mountains rose like jagged teeth against the sky.

“Perhaps, but two of your school friends have chosen Vultor husbands. You’ve seen Vultor in the village. If we can accept them in our territory, I’m sure they will accept a harmless old man in theirs.”

She wasn’t convinced that it was that easy. The Vultor who had visited their village were very different from the wild creatures who had haunted her nightmares, but they were huge, muscular, and intimidating, moving with a predator’s grace even when they were simply walking down the street—and predators defended their territory.

“Then I should go with you. I’m the one who fixed the compression chamber. If anything goes wrong with the engine—and you know something always does—I can repair it faster than you can.”

“You worry too much. Always have. Even when you were knee-high to a grasshopper.”

She rolled her eyes at the old Earth expression and managed a smile. “One of us has to.”

“Nothing is going to go wrong.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, and she felt the slight tremor in his fingers that he tried so hard to hide. “The shop needs you. Mrs. Holloway’s water pump won’t fix itself, and we can’t afford to lose her business. And Tessa would never forgive you for missing her bonding ceremony.”

She sighed again. “I doubt Tessa would notice—she’s too focused on her new mate.”

Her father raised an eyebrow at the edge to her voice and she winced. She knew she wasn’t being fair to Tessa. Her friend was still the same sweet, cheerful person she’d always been, but she spent less and less time in the village these days.

After a mysterious disappearance, Tessa had returned with a Vultor mate in tow—much to the shock of the villagers. While Bella had no interest in a husband, she found herself envying her friend’s radiant happiness—as well as her adventure outside the narrow confines of village life.

“All the more reason to spend time with her.” Her father turned to load the last crate of mechanical trinkets into the wagon’s bed, wincing slightly as his back protested. At fifty-three, he wasn’t as spry as he once was, a fact he stubbornly refused to acknowledge. “Three days to the fair, two days of selling, three days back. I’ll return with enough coin to buy those specialized tools you’ve been eyeing. Maybe even that imported compression gauge you’ve been dreaming about.”

She made one last attempt. “You don’t even know if the pass really exists. No one has been that way for years.”

He pulled the faded map out of his pocket and waved it at her.

“It exists. It’s clearly marked on this map.”

Looking at the stubborn set of his chin, she abandoned her attempt to talk him out of the trip. Instead, she started going through the supplies he was taking with him.

“You’ve packed enough food? And the thermal blanket?” she asked, mentally checking off her list. “I packed some of Agatha’s medicinal tea for your joints, too. It’s in the blue tin.”

“Yes, and yes.” He pulled her into a quick hug. “I’ll be back before you miss me.”

“I already miss you and you haven’t left yet,” she replied, forcing a smile as she helped him into the driver’s seat, adjusting his traveling cloak around his shoulders. “Promise you’ll be careful.”

“Always am.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry so much. You’re too young for worry lines.”

The engine hummed to life, vibrating beneath her palm as she rested it on the wagon’s side. Her father checked the navigation system one last time, then waved cheerfully before steering the vehicle towards the outskirts of the village and the mountains that seemed to watch with ancient, patient eyes. A chill breeze swept down from them, carrying the scent of rain and the faintest touch of wildness. Of freedom.

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