“The scripiat returns to the depths. We are safe,” he whispers.
I kick my legs weakly, pointing my finger to the surface. I can’t stop myself from gulping in a deep breath of salt water and choke on its mineral taste.
“Leeenuh, we are safe now. Stay calm.”
My vision blurs and I lose control of my head as it slumps onto my alien hero—it’s not his fault he doesn’t know I breathe air.
Darkness creeps into the edges of my vision.
I point up one more time before I lose consciousness.
We were so close.
2
a bitter word
I was sure that the female in the bubble was a hallucination. Had I finally been broken by the Great Proving? Isolation can play tricks on your mind, and I’ll admit this isn’t the only time I’ve invented someone to talk to.
The first cycle of my Proving was the easiest. I was so consumed with all the tasks and dangers required to create a new nest that I forgot my loneliness. This second and final cycle is more challenging. The daily rounds for fortifying and protecting the nest are now perfunctory. My body is on autopilot as I yearn for someone to connect with.
She can’t be real.
The strange curves of her body are beautiful, even though her camouflage seems to be malfunctioning. She stands out against the blue of the deep, her brightly colored skin patterns nothing like what’s around her. She also lacks any tentacles besides those that look drawn on her legs. Her head is crowned with delicate pink wisps. I wonder what they do. Could there be hidden poison barbs? The color leads me to believe so.
Maybe she’s not afraid because her mate is nearby? She’s relaxed as her bubble drops further and further into the depths of the sea. The women of my people, the Andjin, are constantly in hiding. Kidnapping a potential mate, while barbaric, isn’t unheard of.
Males outnumber females ten to one, which is the entire reason for the time I’ve spent in the wilderness—to prove myself worthy of a mate.
When she speaks her soft nonsensical words, the suppression of my translator chip makes is impossible for us to understand each other. While it’s true that my people prefer a simpler life than many in this universe, we do rely on tech more than most would like to admit. However, any tech to assist me is forbidden during my proving. It’s considered unnecessary for my current mission—a distraction.
We must go through this trial only as the Great Mother has made us—she provides everything we need during this test.
The female’s voice is sweet and melodic as she tells me her name with the strangest hit of anxiety. At first, I think it’s a reaction to me, but I quickly realize she has no control over her bubble’s descent.
Leeenuh needs my help.
A charge floods through my body, my camouflage shifting quickly to hide me in the open waters. The school of yellow dredlin disperses from around us. As they part, the scripiat makes itself known. It bellows, rushing for the female, its maw spread wide.
I wrap my foretentacles around Leeenuh’s rugged enclosure, pushing the muscles in my legs to their limit as I drag her toward the shallows.
The beast’s large body is only supported by the pressures of the deeper waters. If we can ascend quickly enough, we’ll escape.
I know my camouflage is shifting wildly with my efforts, but there’s no point in trying to deceive the scripiat. The female will be dead in the water if we can’t outswim him.
With a sick crunching noise, I hear its jaws break into the bubble. Frantically I spin, praying to the Great Mother that I don’t find her split in half.
As the bubbles clear, I see her body spinning in the currents, luckily still in one piece.
“Leeenuh, hold on!” I yell as I dive and hoist her into my arms. “We only need to get a bit higher—he can’t survive in the shallows!”
She doesn’t respond, but I put my hand behind her head and pump my legs furiously to ascend. I fan the webbing of my hands and toes and use their resistance against the water to move even more quickly.
I can feel the pressure shift in my body, and I know that despite the roars below us, we’ve evaded the danger.
“We are safe!” I whisper to Leeenuh.
She doesn’t calm down. She pushes against me, sputtering and choking. Her eyes shut, and her head lolls. I pat her cheek hard, trying my best to wake her. My hand runs down her neck to support her head. Her skin is soft and smooth…and her neck is free of gills.
This female isn’t aquatic.
Of course, she’s not. Why would she be in an air-filled bubble under the waves if she was? I curse my stupidity and rush to break the surface of the water.
Please don’t let me be too late.
The spray of the waves kisses my face with salty droplets as I make my body switch from its underwater breathing. Water rushes from my gills, running in thick rivulets down the cords of my neck.
Treading the water, the female limp in my arms, I head toward the jagged outcropping of the island. Porous, iridescent mineral formations litter the breeding gound. These pockets of space are the caves in which we build our nests.
The current provides the final push, beaching us both on the rocky shore. She’s underneath me, not breathing. Her lips change from pink to blue.
I turn Leeenuh onto her side and thump my fist on her back. She’s lifeless for only a second, but it feels much longer. When she finally ejects the water from her lungs, her normal breathing patterns return. Her swollen chest rises and falls as the wet fabric of her bodysuit sticks obscenely to her skin.
She coughs, and I turn her head to the side, letting the salt water work its way out of her lungs. Her body shudders, and she slumps her shoulder blades back onto the rocks.
Leeenuh’s mouth opens, letting a string of raspy words fall out.
