“Wait, are those the same kind of crystals that were in your spear?” He’d noticed the pit. “The one that knocked me to my ass?” He hurried forward. A few of the Others were already clustered around it, including the angry one, his hand outstretched to touch the glowing stones.
“Don’t touch.” Thankfully, she caught the scowling male before he made contact. “Too hot to hold.” She shook her hands to mimic burning palms. Her New English was getting better, but there was still so much she couldn’t say with ease.
The frowning male drew back his hand, but his glare never wavered. If he thought that would bother her, he was wrong. She had grown up under Talg and his disapproving stare.
She turned to Grif. “You are right. It is same as in my spear. Danashe crystal. It glow, but no real power until we combine with that.” She pointed to the small pile of red powder a careful distance from the pit of golden gems and then to the bed of red powder that was beneath the crystals in the fire pit. “Whalh metal. When put two together, power.” She clapped her hands. “Heat. Surging for a long time. Spears made same way. Called whalh spears.”
“How did your spear stop working then?” Grif’s friend Bain was also absorbing every detail, his gaze intent.
It was strange, and wonderous, to have so many listening to her words.
“When my spear broke, the connection between danashe and whalh ended. No more glow.”
Just thinking about her destroyed spear made her sad. Gathering the crystals and grinding the whalh powder to heat in a firepit was easy enough for even a pack child to do, but to harness that power into a working glow-spear was far more complex. It was a skill only mastered by a few of the hunters. As a result, the pack did not have an overabundance of the glowing weapon.
The pack’s limited quantity of spears was also the second reason why Talg had ordered her to trade, not only for food but for Other workers to help mine the powder. He’d always planned to use the prisoners to lure his enemies to pack territory, but only when he was ready to make war. Before that, he wanted the extra bodies to mine and grind the whalh metal needed to light the spears. He liked the idea of the Others being forced to make the very weapons that would destroy them.
The scarcity of pack spears was also why Talg had refused to grant her one even after he announced his decision to send her to trade with the Others. He said such a weapon was too precious for Gazi. But Ramm had gifted her with one that same rotation, rising in the early light to send her off while the rest of the village slept.
She would never forget Ramm’s kindness. Or what he had whispered as he handed it to her. Prove yourself to the Ancients and Talg, and perhaps the curse will be lifted. You are not the only one who will pray to the Ancients for your success.
But acceptance by the pack was no longer her objective. She was on a different path now.
“You okay, wild thing?” As always, Grif seemed to sense her mood, his expression intent as he studied her.
Her belly fluttered. “I am fine.” Her lips lifted upward without her even having to try. “I am good even.” She glided closer to his side. “I will show you how the crystals work.”
“I’d like to see, too.” Bain flanked her other side. “If you don’t mind, of course.”
She gave him a tentative smile. Her first for someone who wasn’t Grif. “I don’t mind.”
Her first loyalty had to be to pack and keeping her people safe, but she was coming to hope she could keep Grif’s people alive and well, too.
“With that new intel, I might be able to get Nayla’s spear working again,” observed Bain.
“Maybe we could even make more.” Grif’s expression had turned calculating.
Nayla’s nerves returned, the reminder that she was a traitor by pack standards making her throat tight. But if this could lead to peace, it was all right then, wasn’t it? “It has to be right size crystal to work.” She didn’t know much about the process, but that she was certain of.
“Could I, ah, have a word with Nayla first?” Lana pushed her way through the crowd.
Nayla looked to Grif. He looked back at her. Oh, yes. It was still strange to realize she needed no one’s permission to speak. “Yes. I am available for words.”
“Great.” Relief softened the female’s features. She gestured toward a portion of the beach a few arm’s lengths away. “Let’s talk over here.”
“I’ll be here if you need me, Nayla.” Grif’s voice held an edge, as if he wasn’t entirely happy about her departure. “Don’t stray farther than my line of sight.”
Lana sniffed, as if Grif’s words displeased her, but Nayla found them comforting. While her ease with the Other males was increasing, she was still awkward with the females.
Not to mention that, despite her nerves about spears, new paths, and potential confrontations with the pack, the proof that Grif cared for her made her feel as shimmery as a lit danashe crystal.
Once they were away from the others, the silence stretched. Nayla wondered if she fully understood the Other meaning of talk.
“I, ah, I’m sorry. I’m not normally such a mess.” Lana laughed, but it sounded forced. “I mean, these rotations, I am, but I didn’t used to be before….” Her expression sharpened. “Well, anyway, I wanted to say that I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable the last time I spoke. That wasn’t the intent. I want you to feel you have a safe place to go whenever you need.”
She did, with Grif, but she was coming to suspect the wasn’t what the female meant. So, all she said was, “Thank you. You and the others have been very kind. I was not treated with such welcome by my pack. I am grateful.”
“Oh,” the female’s discomfort lessened, “you do not need to feel grateful. I know it took me a while to adjust. Frankly, I still am.”
Nayla nodded. Her efforts to observe were paying off. The female was far less tense than during their last exchange.
“I think that’s why I was so upset when I learned what Grif had done to you.” Lana paused, peeking down at Nayla. “I-I might have had a tiny crush on him.”
Since Nayla had no idea if the crush the female had put on Grif was good or bad she said nothing.
Lana rushed on. “He’s so handsome. Like one of those vid-star heroes who you just know is the good guy. He smiles at you and you just know he’s going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
How strange. Nayla willed her expression not to change. She’d thought Grif was a terrifying beast when she’d first seen him, so hairy and muscular and tall, but then she’d been judging him by pack standards. Now she judged him by her body’s response and he appeared the sexiest of males to her.
“I know…I know. Idiocy.” Lana sighed. “I sound so silly. It’s just…I was in such a bad place when he and the others rescued us, and I’d gotten so used to men being only cruel and horrific.” The female’s voice softened. “He was so different, so strong and capable, teaching me how to defend myself, but also so sweet with Melody and Hope. I know you haven’t seen that part of him, but—”
“I have.”
“You have?” Lana sounded surprised.