Second Heart: Bones of Eden Page 3

  “I just wanted to be numb. You can’t be sad when you’re hunting. You can’t be thinking about dead sisters. Not if you want to stay alive.”

  Fox nodded. “I’m sorry it happened. I will tell my brothers. I find anything that might have attacked your brother, I will kill it for you.”

  Whiskey hesitated, meeting his gaze again. “For me, Elikai?”

  “For you,” Fox said firmly, though the first hint of a blush burned on his cheeks. “I don’t care much for the other Varekai. But you’re different than they are.”

  He snorted. “How do you figure?”

  “You could survive anything. Besides, you might be carrying my little brother.”

  Whiskey touched his own belly, then turned his attention back to the slain pigs.

  “You’re never going to be able to carry both of those home,” Fox said.

  “I didn’t ask your opinion.”

  “You don’t have the sense to ask my opinion. Or to ask for my help.”

  “You? What could you do?”

  “Help you butcher and carry them? I can do that, you know. If you want to give me some meat in payment.”

  He snorted. “There’s always a catch with an Elikai.”

  “Do you want my help or not?”

  Whiskey indicated for him to start on the smaller pig. For a time, they worked in silence.

  Fox watched the Varekai from the corner of his eye as they cleaned the carcasses. Not so long ago, there had been a vicious hostility between them. Whiskey had chosen Fox as his mate because of it—as he had believed Fox was the only worthwhile challenge in the Elikai tribe. The first time, the sex between them had been confusing, and Fox had not been a willing participant. Whiskey had been focused on completing the task, whatever the cost, even if it meant injuring himself. However, there had been a second time too, and the intensity of that memory still made his skin burn.

  Fox hadn’t slept with any of his brothers since. He had never been attracted to the other Elikai. Never enjoyed intimacy with them. The release of sex was a relief, but he did not want to touch his brothers that way. Until Whiskey, there had been nothing in the world to arouse him.

  Now, when he masturbated, Whiskey was the only thing on his mind. It made sense, he supposed, if the Varekai were hens and the Elikai roosters like India claimed. Elikai should be attracted to Varekai, and vice versa. That would be natural.

  It was a relief to think that he might actually be normal, after so many years of his brothers treating him like he was strange.

  However that didn’t make things easier. The Varekai were still the enemy. The tribes were not at war...yet. But Sugar was still furious with Charlie and with Whiskey for kidnapping Fox in the first place. There was not going to be peace anytime soon. Not the kind of peace that would allow the tribes to come together to make new brothers.

  For now, there were only moments like this. Bittersweet, because the silence and companionship made Fox feel whole, but knowing Whiskey was hurting was making him hurt too. He wished he could do something, anything, to take some of that hurt away.

  But time, and time alone, would heal the wound of a dead brother.

  “You’re staring at me,” Whiskey said, throwing a handful of guts to the hounds.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s annoying.”

  Fox smiled a little. “Is there anything I could do that wouldn’t annoy you? I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle.”

  Whiskey sighed. “You’re not supposed to be talking to me. I know Sugar banned all the Elikai from contact with the Varekai. India has been lovesick without Tare. She can’t stand the sight of me right now. She’s not the only Varekai angry about what I did to you. I did it for the tribe, but now half of them think I’m some kind of monster. But here you are, gutting my pigs. Disobeying your leader.”

  “It’s complicated, Whiskey.”

  “I know that.” He stopped what he was doing to look at Fox, blood-painted hands on his hips. “You’re not the one everyone is mad at, though. If what I did was so bad, why are you even here? Why didn’t you charge down here and kill me while I was distracted?”

  “I could kill you, but not twenty dogs.”

  “Stop kidding around.”

  He was silent for a moment, not entirely sure how to word what he was feeling. He couldn’t very well confess his attraction. “I want what’s best for the tribes too. You did the wrong thing, and I don’t want it to happen to any of my brothers. But I’m not hurt. And I’m more interested in the possibility of a new Elikai than I am in being angry at you. I know you’re not bad, Whiskey. You’re desperate, and you want to save the people, but you did it in a really stupid way.”

  He huffed and turned his attention back to the carcass. “How would you do it?”

  “Trade. The Elikai have sex with the Varekai willingly, and you give us the Elikai babies. Both tribes continue to grow and prosper. Everyone wins.”

  “Carrying and giving birth to young is not equal to sex. Do you know how much more meat bitches need when they are pregnant? They can’t hunt either. What if I couldn’t hunt for a whole month? And I needed more food than usual? If you think sex was so awful that it is equal to the cost of carrying the young, you deserve a swift punch to the tit.”

  He held up his hands in supplication before Whiskey’s rant could gain any more momentum. “Okay, okay. I could pick up the slack, though. I could give you half of my kills. More. Two-thirds, if you need them. I feed you, and you give me the baby brothers.”

  “What if they’re all Varekai?”

  “Then you’re very lucky.”

  “Sugar agrees to this?”

  “I haven’t talked to him about it. It’s a pretty sore subject at the moment. But I will. The tribes don’t have to be in agreement, though. India and Tare ignored the rules. You ignored the rules. You and I can have our own agreement.”

  “If I’m not pregnant, you will meet with me again? Willingly?”

  The idea made his heart race. “If you agree to the terms.”

  Whiskey was silent for a long moment, still working on the pig carcass but deep in thought. Fox watched him, struck by the intensity in his green eyes. The soft curve of his jaw. The pout of his lips. For a moment, Fox found himself hoping the Varekai was not pregnant, just so he could touch that skin and kiss those lips again.

  “I need to think about it,” Whiskey said.

  “I’m not in any hurry.”

  Whiskey was generous with the pig meat, though Fox wasn’t sure if that was because he had helped, or because Whiskey simply couldn’t fit it all in her canoe with the dogs.

  He left feeling that something had been achieved. He left believing this could all work out.

  Chapter Three

  India prepared Juliet’s body. She sewed it up using animal hide where there wasn’t enough skin. She washed away the blood and combed through Juliet’s hair. Carefully, she painted on the swirls and stripes—the final pattern that Juliet would wear now, forever. They left her naked, but India wove two more braids, of bone and glass, pearls, strips of silver can, two blue bottle caps and pearly purple-and-white pipi shells, into her hair. Then she cut off one of her own braids and wove that in too.

  Slowly, the other Varekai came, alone or in pairs. Some simply knelt and cried. Some held Juliet’s broken hands. Some cut off a braid of their own, and India wove those into Juliet’s hair too. By the time the raft had been built, Juliet’s hair was a rainbow of hues. Black through brown, blonde, and even a brilliant streak of Whiskey’s red.

  Juliet would take a part of the tribe with her.

  The pup watched India work. Occasionally it would whine, high but quiet, as if it were crying too. India ignored it. Tango had claimed it, and India supposed someone should, but it would grow and it wo
uld breed, and then they’d have three-tailed, mutant-eared dogs everywhere. She did not want to think about it now. She just wanted to do the best job she could. She wanted all of this not to be real.

  She had stopped hoping to wake up now. Nightmares were not this long. They did not go into such painful detail.

  The raft was wide and flat. Not a canoe, more of a platform, so it could be stacked with branches. The teachers had told them the dead went to another place, a better place, and while their bodies remained, all that made up a person’s thought and soul went somewhere else. So the Varekai packed the raft with the things Juliet would need. Spears and bows, hides, tools and all her precious things. Tango laid down the broken telescope, and then, carefully, they lifted Juliet onto the raft too.

  It took all of them to carry it down to the open ocean. Dawn was cresting the horizon—pink, blue and orange. It would be hot later. For now, it was critical Juliet went with the receding tide. The waters would carry her out and away, into the ocean, past the reef.

  They took the raft out into the surf, battling the waves and the tug of a rip, until they were all waist-deep and the craft could be left to float. It listed for a moment, as if it would topple sideways, but then it steadied and the hungry water began to pull it away.

  Bravo was sobbing so hard that Charlie had to drag her back to shore, lest the water take her too. Most were stoic, silent in their grief, but Whiskey’s eyes were closed, her face wet with a steady stream of tears.

  “We have lost another sister.” India’s voice was shaky, and she did not try too hard to project it. Those who could not hear shuffled closer.

  “There are fourteen Varekai left. From twenty-six to fourteen, in sixteen seasons. Juliet...” Her voice cracked, and she had to take a moment to steady herself. “Juliet loved us. And we will miss her. As we miss the first lost sister, November, and as we still miss the last, Alpha. We cannot afford these losses. We cannot afford to dwindle until we are nothing. Mourn and remember we are valuable. Our lives are valuable. When we are gone, there will be no more people. Remember Juliet, and take no risks. Make no missteps.”

  She sat down, and around her, her sisters sat too. For a long time, there was silence. The raft bobbed, getting further and further away. Then Whiskey stood and drew an arrow. The tip was wrapped in cloth and fat. She dipped it in a billy can of hot coals, and when it was lit, she fired it into the sky. Her first shot missed, but a second hit the raft. The flames spread slowly, barely visible in the dawn, with the bright sun rising behind them. But they were there, and the spiral of smoke rose into the morning sky.

  When Whiskey was seated again, Charlie began to hum. The hum became a thread of song, which was echoed by the Varekai, over and over. It was a round, sad and soft and bitter. They picked up a part, a harmony, and let the song weave around them. There were no words, just the pulse of voice, rising and falling, sometimes choked with tears, but it filled the air, bubbling out like a living thing. India closed her eyes and felt it vibrating inside her.

  It was not just the voices of the fourteen—those left behind and still waiting—but those who had come before. She was certain she could hear November. She could hear Alpha. She could hear Juliet, her voice just a whisper in India’s ear, but there all the same. Light and beautiful, still alive...somewhere. India cried.

  The sun rose, and slowly the sound dwindled. One by one the sisters rose and made their way back through the trees to the village.

  India thought she was the last, but when she looked back to the beach from the path home, there was still Whiskey, sitting in the sand, eyes closed, throat working with quiet song. And far from her, nearly as far as it could get, was the mutant pup.

  * * *

  Tare missed India. Since Whiskey had kidnapped Fox, they had not seen one another at all. Sugar had been so angry, he had sworn he would lead an attack on the Varekai next time they tried to kidnap an Elikai, and Tare didn’t want to start a war. Being away from India for so long was physically painful. His chest and throat hurt all the time, as if he had flu.

  Though, judging by the look on Sugar’s face these days, he felt much the same. He’d always been the type to sit alone, drawing and thinking. It was the thing Tare liked least about him. These days, Sugar didn’t draw. He just brooded, staring off toward the east as if the Varekai would magically appear. Tare suspected it wasn’t the tribe Sugar wanted to see, but one specific Varekai. Tare was, after all, starting to see how things worked between “brothers” and “sisters.”

  Once, both tribes had mistaken attraction for obsession. They’d called it a sickness, bloodlust, and believed it was a dangerous and fatal ailment. Varekai and Elikai alike had died for it, as their attempts to get close to the object of their affections were mistaken for hostility. But Tare was in love with India now, and the urge to go to him and be close to him was overwhelming. Maybe it was still a sickness, but if India’s theories about Elikai and Varekai being able to make babies together were correct, it was a sickness with a purpose. It was reproduction, and maybe that was just the way it was supposed to be.

  Either way, Sugar had it too. And he was too busy punishing the Varekai to see he was punishing himself as well.

  Tare would have told him, but he didn’t really want to get punched for it.

  Fox had been oddly quiet since coming back with a piglet the day before too. It was roasting now. Love was tending the spit, and the whole village radiated with the scent of sizzling fat. Tare had every intention of eating himself sick when it was done.

  Fox padded over to him, still appearing distracted, and sat down. It was the first time he had willingly approached Tare since Tare had seduced him to escape and see India. Tare had been starting to think they would never be friends again and felt a sickening sort of relief that now, finally, maybe Fox was going to forgive him.

  “I spoke to a Varekai.”

  Tare’s belly clenched. “Who?”

  “Whiskey.”

  “You spoke to Whiskey!?” His voice rose too loud, and then he dropped it, hoping no one had heard. “I mean, you didn’t run screaming the moment you saw him?”

  Fox gave him an annoyed look. “No. I spoke to him. I’m not afraid of Whiskey.”

  “Are you sure? I am.”

  “I carried him out of... Never mind. You’re an idiot. Why do I even talk to you?”

  He started to stand up, but Tare pulled him down again. “Wait. What did he say?”

  Fox sighed. “One of the Varekai was killed.”

  The whole world lurched. Tare had to hold the grass to keep himself from pitching over onto his side from the sheer force of the vertigo. “Who?” His voice was shaky.

  Fox glanced at him, concerned, then annoyed. “Calm down. Not India, okay? Juliet.”

  “Is India okay?” Tare pressed.

  “Probably. I have no idea. Whiskey just said something attacked Juliet. Something that wasn’t a crocodile, shark or snake.”

  “What about that monster you said you saw in the mangroves?”

  Fox gave him a withering look. “That was a crocodile, Tare.”

  “Oh. Well.” He shrugged. “That’s bad, I guess.”

  “Another Varekai dead. Another loss to our numbers.”

  “Their numbers.”

  “No, Tare. Our numbers. We’re all the same, remember? Their loss is our loss.”

  Tare let that sink in. He’d never thought Fox would be the sort to say that—he had always been of the opinion the islands would be a safer place without them. Everything was changing now. Everyone was changing. It was hard to twist his own mind to that way of thinking. Varekai and Elikai, one and the same. He supposed that would make them all just “Kai.”

  “Okay. Yeah. Our loss. Should we do something?”

  “I have to tell Sugar.”

  “He’s going to ge
t all snarly when you tell him you talked to Whiskey.”

  Fox sighed, resting his elbows on the sand and looking up at the sky. It was a brilliant blue, and the clouds were so white they hurt Tare’s eyes. “I guess that’s why I told you first,” Fox admitted. “You’re pro-Varekai.”

  “You want me to back you up?”

  Fox looked uncertain. “I guess.”

  “Come on then. May as well tell him while he’s all broody, thinking about his lost love.”

  Fox blinked, confused. “Lost love?”

  Tare grinned. “Now who’s stupid?”

  He got to his feet and pulled Fox upright. Together, they padded over to where Sugar was sulking on the rocks. It was hot, and the stone tingled Tare’s feet uncomfortably, but Sugar seemed determined to crisp himself.

  “Sugar,” Fox said.

  “Mmm.”

  There was a long silence as Sugar continued to stare out to sea, not registering the silence. Fox gave an exasperated sigh and prodded their leader with his foot. “Sugar!”

  Sugar’s eyes flashed in irritation, and he looked up at them. “What?”

  “I would like to talk to you without burning my ass. Come into the shade.”

  Sugar scowled but clambered to his feet, and they all moved under the trees. Tare spread out on the most comfortable-looking patch of grass he could find.

  “I spoke to Whiskey.” Sugar started to protest, and Fox held up a hand to silence him. “Juliet is dead. He was attacked by an unknown animal.”

  Sugar mulled over this, pulling up stalks of grass and weaving them into little wreaths. “That’s a shame. Was anyone else hurt?”

  “Not that I know of. But that’s beside the point.”

  “What is the point?” Sugar demanded.

  “The point is that both tribes are still dying. Even without war, there are still too many dangers on the isles. If we do not act, we may run out of time. We need a truce with the Varekai again, and you have to be the one to make it. For all his irritating games, you know Charlie wants peace,” Fox said.