I quickly tally eleven females, most of whom squat in a circle near the gate that blocks us in and some, but not all, of the cold white stuff out. All but two in this cave are squatting, huddled together in what looks like concentration. Me and the one who paces.
She glances down at me and I meet her gaze squarely, knowing that this is the one who bad-mouthed me. I can tell by the look of her alone. Quickly raking my eyes over her frame, I see she’s unarmed, wearing a strange combination of hide and fur-lined leather. The other women wear the same. I glance down at my own clothing, shocked to see I’m dressed identically to them. Who the fuck dressed me?
I exhale shakily, push that thought aside and shift to my knees. There’s a furry white blanket under me and I catch myself on it, waiting for the cave around me to stop spinning. When it finally does, I shove my feet under my knees and rise even if it does take me a couple tries. I hate that. Now they’ve seen that I’m weak and they’ll use that weakness against me. They’re aliens. They won’t hesitate.
I lift my arm, the ceiling so low I can touch it with my gloved fingertips. With all of the other females seated or kneeling at the mouth of the cave — except for the bitchy one — I feel seriously tall. And powerful. Ready to take them all on.
I take a step towards them at the same time that the bitchy one barks, “And what would the human know of the Mountain Run? She knows nothing. Look at her. How small she is. She’s puny. She won’t be any use to us at all. It’s likely she won’t even be chosen.”
“Hush,” one of the women says. No, they’re not women. They’re females. Others. Them. She looks over her shoulder at me and she’s smiling. Why in the stars is she smiling at me? Doesn’t she know I’m going to slit her throat? “We welcome the Xhea and any input she wishes to provide.”
I glance at the two females who have spoken, and then all the rest, trying to decide what in the stars this particular selection has been gathered for. It’s clear that these aren’t warriors. From their waif-like limbs to the way a few cower, struggling desperately to meet my eyeline, the better part of them look like cowards.
And it’s not like they’re great beauties either. Some are tall, sure, but some are fleshy around the jowls, while others look so thin, they’re barely more than color draped over bones. And they are brightly colored with skin tones ranging from the lightest lavender to the darkest cobalt.
While most have hair as black as tar, there’s one who’s bright green with hair whiter than the cold coming in through the gate. I meet her gaze for a moment and she tries a smile, but I bare my teeth and grunt low under my breath until she bows her head and looks away.
I refocus on the female who spoke with authority and brace myself, knowing that I’m going to have to speak with them if I’m going to get any answers. That means doing two things I vowed never to do again — speaking, and interacting with them.
“How…” I cough to clear my throat and when I edge forward tentatively, I can see a crude outline of sticks and rocks on the ground between the females. Instinct tells me it’s a map, but I can’t identify any of the markers they’ve placed.
“How long have I been asleep?” I bark, infusing my tone with authority that I only half feel.
The leader opens her mouth, but the bitch cuts in. “That isn’t important. We need to prepare a good chase!” She shows me her back and flips her hair, trying to block me out.
Slowly, I step around the circle. I’m careful to keep the gate in my peripheries as I move around the group — who the fuck knows what else is out there — circling far enough that I can see the bitch’s face again and no farther than that. She glares at me with all her severity, but I don’t back down. Her face is cut like a diamond. Eyes high and wide, nose narrow and low. She has a petite chin and high cheek bones, ears sharpened to points. Alien bitch.
The alien on the ground who seems to be leading the congregation snaps, “She is the reason we are here. Do not dishonor yourself. If you do not wish to help, then step aside. Time is dwindling.” She returns to the map.
Following her gaze, I work to make sense of what I’m seeing laid out so crudely, and as my pulse picks up its pace and my mind begins shifting blocks of understanding into place, I come to a single conclusion so startling and so horrifying it makes my bones hurt. I want to laugh — I do laugh, drawing even more attention to myself.
“We’re preparing for a Hunt, aren’t we?”
“A Hunt? Nox, my Xhea, not quite. We do share Dra’Kesh ancestry, but Nobu’s Run on the Mountain would test any Dra’Kesh. It is far more severe. A test for true warriors.” She pauses then and takes a moment to look up at me, her features masked, though her forehead glows as if lights have been switched on underneath her transparent bones. “We have heard that you too are a warrior.”
Too many things jump out at me. I can’t grab hold.
Even though whatever translation equipment I’ve been plugged into gives me insight into her words, I still don’t know what they mean. What is drah-kesh? What is noh-boo? What the fuck is a zshay-uh? And how the fuck did I end up here? And where is here anyways? Does it matter? All I know is that here is nowhere I’m meant to be and I’m going to get out of here no matter how many I have to fight and hurt and kill.
“Where are we?” I bark, the sensation in my chest like thrown stones. I feel myself begin to sink as the idea of being tested in another Hunt, this one even more brutal, dawns on me. Kill anyone who touches me. Kill everyone who tries.
A slight, impatient sigh from the lead female before she turns her seemingly sightless eyes up to me. “We are on Nobu, my Xhea.”
“She is not Xhea,” the bitch snaps.
“Not yet.”
“Perhaps not ever. Perhaps the Okkari will know through the Run on the Mountain that a worthy female awaits him.”
The leader’s face morphs into yellow this time. She seems to cede, but there is something in her words I can’t interpret. “All shall be revealed.” She nods slightly, then turns to me. “You are named Va’Rakukanna by Voraxian rights, but here on Nobu we observe tribal law. It is ancient law. The laws of first strength and first right.
“Eligible females participate in the Mountain Run to be awarded breeding partners. When the gates are lowered, we must run. We are given a quarter solar’s head start before the warriors and the Okkari are loosed. Once they are, they will run the mountain in hunt for females. They will fight for coveted females. They will certainly fight for you.”
“And if they catch us?”
The woman’s forehead flashes an alarming white. I angle myself away from her, in a fighting stance, but the color fades just as quickly. “They will breed with us. It is said that when both parties are stimulated equally from the chase, that it is most like to be a successful coupling. More kits are produced from the Mountain Run than any other season.”
Several other aliens murmur their assent, nodding vigorously excitedly. That’s when it hits me: they want to be here. They want to be hunted. My blood heats but I clamp my mind vice over my mounting panic and focus. I’ve trained for this. For three rotations, I’ve waited for the moment to exact my revenge against him. I won’t go quietly into the night.