Page 1 of Alien Scars
1
NASRIN
Iwoke before dawn in Gahn Thaleo’s mountain.
The air in the sleeping cave was cold, but the fur and brolka wool blankets atop the bed were thick and warm. I wouldn’t be able to stay in my cozy bed burrito long, though. Today was the vaklok, a Deep Sky tradition that I’d been roped into attending with my friends. And not only that – we’d be staying for the entire week afterwards.
Yesterday morning Gahn Thaleo had negotiated – no,demanded– that Tilly, Fiona, and I alternate our weeks here and in Gahn Errok’s territory. Like we were toys he couldn’t stand the other Gahn hoarding for himself.
I rolled onto my back, still holding the bedding tight around me. My eyes skated along the glittering, sapphire-like walls of the cave. The fire in here was down to mere embers, reducing the bold blue of the stone to shades of flame-edged indigo and glossy black.
The colours made me think of Gahn Thaleo’s hair. It appeared mostly black at first glance, but when the light found it, strands of cobalt gleamed. And of course, there was that starkwhite streak of hair at the front, emanating from the place the deep, jagged scar on the left side of his face met his scalp…
Annoyed that I’d somehow gotten lost in thoughts of Gahn Thaleo’s hair, I finally found the will to shove myself out of the wonderfully comfortable bed. Candles, which I assumed had to be made from the hardened innards of the succulent mountain valkiri plants, had been left for me near the fire. I dipped the wick of the largest one towards the embers, letting it catch, and using the flickering light to guide my way into the little nook beyond the bed that served as a bathroom. I peed and then washed up, shivering in my tank top and undies as the cold, clear mountain water hit my skin. I smoothed the excess water on my hands over my hair, trying to tame the thick waves and loose curls that I knew had to be more frizz than anything else right now.
On a whim, I tried adding a little bit of the natural moss that lathered up and acted as soap in here. When rubbed with water, the moss emulsified into a creamy, slippery substance that felt like it might have some natural oils or waxes I could make use of. My fingers coated, I went to work separating curl clumps and scrunching the stuff into my damp strands. I didn’t have a mirror, but it felt like it was working out alright. My hair was softer, and it smelled nice, too.
Though the scent was entirely different, I was suddenly rocketed back to my childhood, remembering my mother working sweet almond oil through my locks before braiding it for school in Sydney.
Detecting movement in the sleeping cave adjoining mine, I knew that Fiona and Tilly must be stirring. I got dressed for the day we’d be spending outdoors, putting my socked feet into my boots and tossing my jacket on top of everything, then moving through my cave into the next, holding my candle aloft.
Tilly was already dressed. For as long as I’d known her, she’d been an early riser. Like I had been a few moments ago, she was working on her hair. She was Black, with a much tighter curl pattern than mine. When I told her about my moss-hair-oil experiment, she looked intrigued, and headed for her own bathroom nook to try it out.
Fiona groaned, nothing more than a lump beneath the furs.
“It’s time to get up,” I told her quietly, poking the lump with my free hand. “We have to cheer on Dalk and the others in the vaklok.”
That certainly got her attention. When I said Dalk’s name, she tensed, then sat up so fast she nearly knocked the candle out of my hand. I smirked, having watched the banter and tension between friendly, tattooed Fiona and glowering, grumpy Dalk for months now. Dalk and two other Sea Sand males – cheery Oxriel and a quiet Death Plains warrior named Zoren – had been invited to compete in the vaklok, whatever that entailed. We weren’t really sure. But we had all decided yesterday that we would support them. Fiona had even made hand-drawn posters for us to hold up in the audience, each one with a cartoony face easily recognizable as Dalk, Oxriel, and Zoren.
Fiona swung her legs over the side of the bed. By this time, Tilly had returned. Her hair smelled like mine now, and had been re-tied on top of her head. Since she and I were ready, we left Fiona to get dressed on her own and headed into the outer cave where Dalk, Zoren, and Oxriel had spent the night. Grim and Valeria, who’d slept in another adjoining cave, were there. Dalk’s eyes swept over Tilly and me, and he frowned.
“Where is Fiona?”
I smirked all over again. No morning greeting for Tilly and me. No questions about how we’d slept. The man clearly only had eyes for friend.
“I’m coming!” she called. Then another sound – like her tripping and crashing to the floor.
Dalk was moving instantly, crossing the cave with savage strides as Valeria said, “I’m pretty sure she’s OK, Dalk.”
He ignored her.
We stood waiting, gathered in the cave, chatting about the day to come and what might be expected in the vaklok. Eventually, things got a little stilted and awkward. Dalk and Fiona really were taking ages to re-emerge. Oxriel gave up on waiting, shouting, “It is nearly dawn! The vaklok is due to begin, and we must go!”
Finally, a red-cheeked, harried-looking Fiona emerged, followed by Dalk who had a face like thunder. After confirming that Fiona was indeed alright, we finally left our connected sleeping caves.
We didn’t need candles or flashlights in the winding halls of Gahn Thaleo’s mountain. Before our arrival, he’d installed flickering lanterns for our benefit, since our human eyes couldn’t see nearly as well in the dark as Deep Sky or Sea Sand eyes could. Someone had already been through this area to light them, as flames licked the glittering crystal that surrounded them, illuminating the gleaming blue halls.
The sight of the lanterns lighting our way left me feeling cold. Sure, I appreciated being able to see. But everything Gahn Thaleo had done to roll out the welcome mat for us felt so calculated. So political. Maybe even insincere. We all knew he was capable of outright deception. When I’d first arrived with the others in the Deep Sky, (long after Valeria, Chapman, and the Sea Sand Gahns had helped broker an alliance between Gahn Thaleo and Gahn Errok,) he’d invited our group to his mountain. That group included Stephanie, who Gahn Errok was mated too. Gahn Thaleo knew that by bringing Stephanie into his mountain, he’d be forcing Gahn Errok into a taklok – a fightto the death to retrieve her. We hadn’t expected this violence after forging the alliance with Gahn Thaleo. And Gahn Errok had nearly perished in the fight that followed.
Gahn Thaleo had used us as pawns to put his enemy Gahn into a dangerous situation, never bothering to warn or inform us of the fact beforehand. He’d brought Stephanie into his mountain, not as a guest. But as bait.
So, yeah. Yay for lanterns. But also, major fucking side-eye. Because Gahn Thaleo, as far as I could see, didn’t do shit out of the goodness of his heart. Everything was a means to an end.
Even us.
Even me.
But despite my feelings on the lanterns and, by extension, the scarred mountain Gahn who’d installed them, I couldn’t help but admire the astonishing beauty of the Deep Sky mountains in Gahn Thaleo’s territory. We snaked through glittering halls and down winding stone steps until we came into the large, open entry into the mountain and then moved through it outside.
