Second Heart: Bones of Eden Read online

  It was no secret that Tare and India were in love, though, and it was through their experimentation the tribes had learned an awful kind of truth: that they weren’t really different species at all, rather males and females of the same species. Much of what they had learned in Eden had been a lie, and now the unfortunate reality that they may need one another to reproduce was changing everything. It was a paradigm shift that very few were comfortable with yet, and Charlie was struggling to keep things peaceful.

  Misunderstandings and hurt feelings had almost sent them spiraling back into war again in the months before summer. However, when the giant lizards, the megalania, had swarmed the archipelago to complete their breeding ritual, the Elikai’s carefully hoarded summer supplies—and even their whole village—had been destroyed.

  Now the bulk of the Elikai were camped about two miles west around the mountain face. They still had no supplies, and as the Varekai leader, soon she would have to make a choice. Share their supplies and help the Elikai survive the summer, or keep what they had for themselves. There was not enough food to save everyone.

  While India was skinning the snake corpse, Tango padded over and settled beside Tare. The shyest Varekai mostly avoided the Elikai, so Charlie watched this exchange with interest.

  “What are your sisters like?” Tango asked.

  “Brothers,” Tare corrected. “Elikai are all brothers. I think it would be easier if you started calling us ‘he’ and ‘him’ too.”

  Tango sighed. “Do we really need a whole other set of pronouns? It makes it so complicated.”

  “I’ll make you a deal. You refer to me as ‘brother’ and ‘he’ and ‘him,’ and I’ll call you ‘sister’ and ‘she’ and ‘her,’ okay?”

  She paused. “Okay, okay. Tell me about your brothers, then?”

  “They’re loud and smelly.”

  “All of them?”

  Tare grinned. “Not all. You spent the whole day with Xícara and Zebra, didn’t you? How did you find them?”

  “They’re...nice. We were running for our lives for part of it. Xícara stabbed a megalania so we could escape. She—”

  “He.”

  “He’s very skilled.”

  Charlie noticed Tango was turning a little red around the ears.

  “Do you think he will—” Tango was cut off by India, who had suddenly noticed them and tossed the snakeskin aside, stalking over with bloody hands and a terrible scowl.

  “Stop talking to her,” she snapped at Tango. “Tare is mine.”

  “Him,” Tare corrected mildly.

  Tango blinked. “I wasn’t... We’re just talking.”

  “Well, I don’t like it.” India’s dark eyes flashed. “Go and talk to someone else. Get your own Elikai if you want one. You can’t have mine.”

  “I don’t want yours.” Tango threw up her hands, exasperated.

  “Then go somewhere else.” India’s teeth were gritted. Charlie leaned forward, ready to intervene if she needed to.

  “You’re being silly,” Tango said. India lunged at her, bloody hands curled into claws, and Tango scrambled out of the way. For a moment, they simply glared at one another, then Tango slunk away, muttering unpleasant things under her breath.

  India settled beside Tare, who stroked India’s hair and murmured reassurances. The Elikai looked deeply amused with the exchange, and Charlie wanted to go over there and slap the smug look right off her face.

  It wasn’t the first time India had been jealous. Once, she had threatened to cut off Charlie’s ears if she went near Tare. It occurred to her, if all the Varekai got this possessive about their Elikai, they might not live long enough to have babies after all.

  Chapter Three

  Pain roared in from every direction. Fox coughed, not just water but clods of dirt. It clogged his nasal passages, scratching his throat and slicing his corneas as he blinked. Thunder shook the whole mountain, and the lightning was so white, Fox was sure he was blind. And he was, for at least another thirty seconds, as he clawed the mud and muck off his face.

  “—back inside!” Sugar demanded, hauling Fox upright. He struggled, then forced himself to relax as Maria grabbed his legs and together they got him across the rocks and weeds to Mouse Hole. Seeing the roof close over him sent Fox into a panic, and he clawed at his brothers, then scrambled back into the doorway, choosing to be in the rain rather than underground.

  With Vaca, Zebra, Dog, Romeo and William added to the brothers already taking shelter in Mouse Hole, every inch of air seemed to be taken up with hunched bodies. The smell of sweat was overwhelming. Still prone on the floor, Zebra was coming around, but slowly. There was a horrible catch in his breath, and his eyes weren’t opening properly. Dog was still bleeding, and Vaca’s cheek was swelling with a mighty bruise.

  Sugar and the others were looking at the four of them as if they had waltzed back to life from the dead.

  “What happened?” Sugar demanded.

  “It all just caved in,” Dog said. “Zebra was buried.”

  The rain was lashing Fox’s face, washing away the mud, but in his throat and nose it still burned. He wanted to curl up and sob. He still felt like he was in Fish Hole, being buried, trying to scramble to freedom. Even though he could see Zebra was alive, he felt as if he had failed and his brothers had died.

  “Are you okay?” Sugar asked him, concerned as Fox swallowed back tears. “You did a good job.”

  “Zebra and I would be dead if not for you,” Vaca agreed.

  Fox shook his head and buried his face in his hands.

  They left him alone then, and he was deeply grateful. Zebra woke slowly, dazed and only partially coherent. He coughed constantly, spitting up dirt and brown water. His throat was raw, and he could barely speak. Everyone was hungry and cramped. There were no dry blankets and no space to stretch out. Fox could hardly have squeezed in with his brothers to escape the rain if he wanted to.

  The Elikai, desperate for food, ignored their traditions and killed two snakes they found sheltering in crevasses in the ceiling, but Fox wasn’t quite hungry enough to eat raw snake.

  “The Varekai will have fire,” Romeo said. “Their cave is huge. Sugar, we need to gather all the brothers and go there. Maybe India can help Zebra.”

  There was a moment of silence, then Sugar nodded. “Spread out and get to the other caves. Tell the rest of the Elikai.”

  It wasn’t much of a choice, but it was the only one they had. They used their damp blankets to make a stretcher for Zebra, but the weather was so bad it took them two hours to navigate the two miles of slippery rocks between their caves and the Varekai’s.

  Fox was only vaguely aware of the journey and his brothers around him. Every time they told him he was a hero, he felt sick. Time passed in weird jolts, too fast and then too slow.

  The Varekai cave was warm and dry and smelled of cooking cured meats. There was some trepidation between the tribes at first, but Tare was glad to see his brothers, and when India saw Zebra was wounded, he wasted no time in stripping him and washing him and bundling him in furs at the back of the cave.

  Fox sat near the entrance. Not because he was claustrophobic now—the Varekai cave was large enough that he could breathe—but to give the others the space to slowly mingle. He did not want to take part in their tentative flirtations.

  There was no escaping Whiskey, though. The red-haired Varekai brother sat down beside him. “You’re bleeding.”

  “There was a cave-in.”

  “I heard you rushed into it, rather than away.”

  “And?”

  “You’ve got less sense than the rock that hit you.”

  Fox glared at him. Whiskey was even more beautiful than the lioness he had seen earlier, and probably more dangerous. Lithe, muscular limbs. Keenly attentive eyes.
Wide, swaying hips. He was also carrying Fox’s offspring. For that reason alone, staying mad at him, as tempting as it was, was pointless.

  “Have you got nothing at all better to do than annoy me?” he demanded.

  Whiskey shrugged and looked out through the rain at the slope of the island below them. Yesterday, it had been lush and green, thick with forests and grassy pockets.

  They could see none of that now. The tops of trees rose out of a churning brown flood. Cyclones brought storm surges—some of them two, three, even four yards high. It was enough to completely overwhelm many of the islands in the archipelago. The winds had stripped all the leaves from the branches, so that all they could see were skeletal trunks. They could not even see the beaches and ocean for the thick haze of the rain.

  “The water will go down in a day or two.” Whiskey gestured to the roaring torrent far below. “The rain will wash away the salt. The plants will grow again. The animals will breed. Every year it looks so bad, as if all is lost, but every year the islands recover. Maybe when we see these caves again, we will have a new generation of Elikai and Varekai.”

  “You’ve very optimistic we’re going to live that long. The megalania killed most of the goats and pigs. The storm will have killed more. Maybe there are none left. We can’t fish during the rain. The birds have all fled to the mainland. Even the crocodiles will be on the reefs. There’s no fruit. No roots to gather. There’s no food.”

  Whiskey glanced up at the cascade of water falling by the cave mouth. “Plenty of freshwater, though.”

  “If I were a guava tree, I would be happy,” he snapped.

  Whiskey stood up and walked away, and at first Fox thought he’d driven the Varekai off. Then he came back with a goat hide and clay bowl of yam-and-pig stew, thick and gelatinous.

  “Take that off.” Whiskey gestured to the sodden, muddy reed skirt around Fox’s hips, and he complied. The Varekai slung the pelt over his shoulders.

  “It’s not cold,” he said. The rain was cool on the skin, but summer was a humid time, and even at night in the peak of the storms, it was never chilly.

  “You’re all bruised. And wet. You’re getting pale.”

  He accepted the bowl of stew, picking out the meat and yams with his fingertips and popping them in his mouth. They were so tender they disintegrated on his tongue, and when he had fished out everything that was close to solid, he sipped the rest.

  “Better?” Whiskey asked.

  Fox nodded. He was feeling a little better.

  “We’ll do what we have to do to survive. Maybe it will mean eating the chickens. But we will come through this.”

  “ʻWe,’ hmm?”

  “I owe you that much. You carried me when I couldn’t walk. Even after I kidnapped you. I don’t care much for your sisters, but I will stand by you.”

  His eyes flickered to Whiskey’s belly. He hadn’t bled at the last Varekai moon ceremony. And yet, they had made love again anyway, on the beach. Not because it was necessary, but because they wanted to. Fox couldn’t imagine ever being like Tare, so enraptured by India that he forgot how to breathe, but there was something between him and Whiskey. Something complicated and fragile.

  A roll of thunder made him start so badly he dropped the bowl. It didn’t break, but the last of the stew spilled on the floor.

  Whiskey frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Fox was silent for a moment, trying to find the words that could possibly explain what had happened. “When we were getting Zebra out, I was still in the cave when the roof fell. I was buried. I don’t even remember how they got me out. All I remember is the dirt in my mouth and eyes, the water over my head, unable to move because the mountain had buried me alive.”

  The Varekai looked sickened, and Fox could understand his primal fear of an enemy that could not be fought or outrun. An inescapable foe. It was not something either of them dealt with well.

  Whiskey didn’t say anything at first, he just lifted the pelt he had slung around Fox’s shoulders and studied his back and, Fox presumed, the hot, aching bruises he could feel forming across his shoulders and ribs.

  “You saved your sister,” Whiskey said.

  “It doesn’t feel like I did. It feels like I failed. I feel like Zebra’s dead. Or I’m dead.”

  Whiskey shook her head. “You felt helpless. You tried your hardest, and you didn’t know if it would be good enough. You’re lucky. When Zebra recovers, it will fade for you. But I let someone down once. Someone’s life was on the line, and I wasn’t good enough. I vowed to never let a sister down again, but all the battles I’ve fought, all the work I’ve done protecting my tribe, has never been enough. She will never forgive me.”

  Fox studied him, surprised that his own confession had earned another. “There is still time. If he is still alive.”

  Whiskey shook his head sadly, his gaze lingering on Romeo. A thousand years would not be long enough.

  Chapter Four

  “This is going well.” Sugar tried not to sound surprised.

  Charlie nodded happily. Around them, the Elikai had bowls of food and most were sharing blankets. The two tribes were still on opposite sides of the cave, but here and there they were mingling, and Sugar could see tentative smiles and cautious conversation.

  Whiskey and Fox were side by side at the cave entrance, deep in discussion. Tango and Xícara were watching anxiously as India fussed over Zebra. Maria and Mike were comparing bone knives, and Tare was trying to coax his brothers to join the Varekai by the fire.

  So far there were no arguments. No hostility. Sugar tried as hard as he could not to remember which of the Varekai had killed his brothers in the past. It was easier with Charlie; she had no blood on her hands. It was much harder when he caught sight of Whiskey or Mike.

  “I... Thank you,” he continued, “for letting us come here. For sharing your food. For tending Zebra. We had no supplies left to care for him. He might already be dead if we were still in the Mouse Hole.”

  Charlie’s smile faltered a little. “I don’t want anyone to die. Not Varekai, not Elikai. I wish...”

  “What?”

  “I wish there was enough for all of us. To go around.”

  He was queasy, remembering how little supplies there were. “We’ll be able to hunt soon. If the spirits are kind, the cyclones will pass quickly. It could be a mild season.”

  “Have the spirits been kind lately?” Charlie gave him an arch look.

  “They brought us together. That’s a kindness.”

  Charlie blushed and looked away, which delighted Sugar. Normally it was him caught on the back foot, blushing and stammering while the Varekai teased him.

  “Saying it’s a good thing you lost everything so we could sit together is a little short-sighted.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “But what did the teachers say? Look for the silver lining.”

  “I never understood that. Wouldn’t ‘look for the copper lining’ make more sense? It’s a better conductor. I’d rather have a heap of copper than a heap of silver.”

  “And a generator?” he asked, amused.

  Charlie nodded. “They spent all that time teaching us to use and repair the solar generators, but when the world was born, we never found any.”

  “We didn’t exactly stay on the mainland long enough to look.”

  In those early days, predators had been everywhere. Monstrous things without names or logic. Sugar had been grabbed during the night and dragged a hundred feet through the brush, kicking and screaming as something large enough to fit both his legs in its mouth hoisted him away. His escape was owed more to luck than skill, and the Elikai had fled to the islands the next morning. The Varekai had not been far behind.

  “I would like to go back,” Charlie said. “To Eden. Get some answers. Maybe fin
d some tech from the world before. When we talked about what you wanted for your tribe, you said ‘plumbing.’”

  Sugar nodded. “There are a lot of things I would like to try to re-create. Tare says you farm. If we had permanent houses, we could make things like wheelbarrows and fences. They’d need to be somewhere the cyclones couldn’t just rip them away, though.”

  “On the mainland,” Charlie said with a frown.

  “Maybe. Or maybe here on the Pinnacle Island, if we were willing to build on the hillside. We’d have to dig out foundations.”

  Charlie shook his head. “No, we’d need concrete for that. None of us have been able to make any.”

  “There is clay and mud. We can make mud brick with dried grasses. We’ll use logs to pound the floor. More logs for framework.”

  Charlie looked dubious. “That’s a lot of work. Years of work.”

  “Not if both tribes were working together, making one village. Not if we lived in the caves while we worked.”

  His own excitement was rising, but he could see the Varekai’s uncertainty. The truth about their nature had been enough of a shock for both tribes. Maybe it was too soon to suggest they create a life together. Sugar could see it all in his mind, as if it was happening right then. The blueprints for buildings, the axes they would need to chop trees. Fences, animal pens. Goats they could milk like the cow in Eden. They could have cheese again, aged in the caves in beeswax. They could have farms and wheelbarrows. Spades and fireplaces. They could dig channels and place water ducts.

  Maybe, just maybe, Sugar could remember all the details of the design for a windmill. Or, if they went to the mainland as Charlie suggested, they might find solar panels. They could have electric light.

  Or better yet, refrigeration.

  How they would get a refrigerator back to the archipelago was something Sugar would need to think about later, but he would come up with a solution.