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At the centre of the room, Liv, Lorna and Brooks are deep in discussion. They have already had many discussions about the waking of the females and I wonder what there is left to go over. But hunters often talk tirelessly of the same plans, fixing them in our headspaces and assuring ourselves and each other that we know the shape of them perfectly. Perhaps it is just this sort of thing that the females engage in now. Meanwhile, in the deeper shadows at the edges of the room, their mates lurk. Gregar pacesback and forth, his agitation buzzing around him like a swarm of erastas. Shemza holds himself tight and tense, waiting, I expect, to hear what his part in all of this will be.
Only my brother looks relaxed, grown accustomed to being in thepodroom after spending so much time in here watching his linasha in her frozen sleep. He watches her still now, his expression full of softness. Words line up on my tongue to tease him about it, but I do not speak them. I am still too glad to see him broken free of the shame and misery he felt over his involvement with Sam’s abduction. Brooks has been good for his spirit, and seeing it is good for mine.
“Tomorrow the waking starts, then,” I say instead, gripping both Maldek and Shemza’s shoulders as I approach them.
“Not soon enough,” Gregar grumbles. I decide not to make mention of how similar he sounds to Larzon in this moment.
“It sounds as though Vantos could not have arrived any quicker,” I say.
Gregar inclines his head in acknowledgement. “His thoughts form the same shape as mine, I suspect.”
“The sooner we can get done here, the sooner we can all be home?” I arch a brow, letting a little tease into my tone. “I do not think there is a male here whose thoughts do not take that shape.”
Embarrassment creeps into Gregar’s expression. “You are all just better at managing your feelings about it.”
“Or we have less obvious tells,” Shemza says, his lips twitching.
“I should cultivate a less obvious one,” Gregar says, grimacing. “My Liv does not appreciate the pacing.”
“Do not worry,” I say, grinning. “When Vantos arrives tomorrow, he will soon remind your Liv how very lucky she is to have you in her dreams.”
Shemza chuckles, and Gregar manages a wry grin. Vantos has always taken his warrior’s duties very seriously, but never more so than now with a linasha in his dreams and a youngling on the way. I think any of the other females would have found his attentions suffocating, but Rachel bears them all with grace.
“How have you fared on your hunt?” Gregar asks.
I open my mouth to answer, but before I can, Liv speaks.
“Weshudwaykewun. Jusswun.”
My understanding of the human words is no better than any other raskarran. Our headspaces do not take to them so well, their meanings slipping away like vetti eels. So I do not know what my chieftess is saying, but there is something about her tone that stills me. That stills all of us. We turn as one to look at the females again.
There is a discussion back and forth between Brooks and Liv. Gregar’s expression twists as he tries to understand Liv’s words. The dreamspace can do much, but sometimes our experiences are too different for understanding to come easily.
“She wishes to wake one of the females. So they have been through the process once before the others arrive tomorrow. So they know what to expect.”
Shemza nods. “It is probably sensible. We do not yet know if all will be affected in their memories as Brooks was, or if that was just a result of her method of awakening.”
“We do not know if they know where they are as Brooks did, also,” Maldek says. “It will be a very different sort of care they will need if they do not know of other worlds and Lina’s forest.”
Liv steps up to one of thepods, arms folded above the curve of her belly. She takes a breath, then nods. Brooks steps up beside her.
“Sorry,” she says, talking to the frozen female inside thepod, her tone and expression suggesting this word is an apology.
Shemza gestures for us to step back, and we do so without argument or question. We are no use to proceedings, having none of Shemza’s healing skills. But even if Shemza was not a skilled healer, he has an easy sort of goodness to him. If this female is to look upon a raskarran face for the first time when she wakes, Shemza’s is probably the best choice.
Maldek and I stop when we reach deep enough shadows as to not be easily seen from thepods. Gregar retreats into the furthest corner to resume his pacing. I realise as he goes that I have not yet given him my message, the words I need to speak to him lost among the flashing lights and the promise of a female soon to be awoken.
After, I think. After, I will tell him what he needs to know.
I doubt I could speak the words properly if I tried to now.
I doubt even more that he could listen.
Brooks presses on thepod, some strange noises issuing from it. Then, with a hiss and a groan, thepodshifts, going from standing up to lying down. When it stops moving, Brooks goes to touch the pod again, but she hesitates, her hand hovering over the surface. Maldek steps up next to her, giving her shoulder a brief squeeze. Bolstered by his support, Brooks turns to the other females.
“Okay. Reddy?”
Lorna looks to Shemza. He nods to his linasha.
