Transcendence (3 page)

Her eyes narrow, and the next sounds almost resemble the snarl of a great cat. Well, the young of a great cat, maybe. The thought makes me laugh, and she cringes away from me again though I do not release her wrist.

She is so beautiful—her smooth hair and her deep eyes and her creamy, pale skin. I don’t like the noises she makes, but she looks to be able enough, even if she is small. I briefly wonder if she is fertile and if she would bear a child who looks like me.

I like this idea.

A lot.

Finally, after all this time alone, I have a mate.

CHAPTER TWO

I bend over to grab the forgotten spear in my other hand. Though the woman must understand that her resistance isn't working, she continues to pull at my fingers as I drag her toward the cliffs and the cave. I don't know why she does so—it’s not working, and the sun is low in the sky. Before long it will be dark, and she has to understand how dangerous it will be for her if she is left out in the open at night. Many nighttime predators were going to be waking up soon and starting their nightly prowls. We need the safety of the cave.

Apparently, she doesn’t care because she continues to screech and make those awful noises all the way back to the rock. I sigh and trudge on, hoping once she is inside and knows she is safe from the elements, she will stop with the noises.

Thankfully, there is still some light outside when we reach the slight incline to the opening in the rock and my cave. I stop just outside and push her in front of me, pointing toward the dark crack in the rock. She looks at it and then to me, her eyes narrowed. Sliding my hand up to the top of her arm, I urged her forward and closer to the crack between the large rocks with another push. She resists, and I shove her harder, my patience waning. Her hand flies out in front of her as she stumbles over her own feet, and I wonder if the strange foot coverings are somehow hindering her movement.

She manages to catch herself on the edge of the rock near the opening, but she makes no move to go inside. Instead, she turns back to me, and her mouth opens again. More sounds come out—louder this time. She yanks her arm from my grip, and her hands ball into fists that she shakes at me as she makes more sounds. With my head tilted to one side, I listen for a moment, but it is just noise, and I tire of it quickly. I’m hungry and I want her inside where we will be safe before the sun sets.

I growl low at her and step forward, pressing her against the rock next to the cave’s opening. My hand goes over her mouth again, but this time my fingers slip around her jaw to hold it closed so she cannot bite. She looks over my shoulder, but there is nothing to be seen for miles around us. Capturing her attention, I look straight into her eyes for a moment before I step back and push her toward the cave entrance again.

This time, she complies, and I take a deep breath. At least she is coming to her senses and doing what I want. She doesn’t have to turn sideways for her shoulders to fit through the opening as I do, but her steps are still slow and cautious. Again I consider her strange footwear and think they might be the cause of her hesitation.

The narrow crack in the rocks is only a few feet long and quickly opens up into the small, single area that is my home. As we enter, we both pause while our eyes adjust to the firelight. There is still some sunlight since the cave entrance faces the sunset, but it is darker than being out in the open.

I have been here since the autumn after the forest fire destroyed my home and tribe. I have always thought it was a good, comfortable cave, but now that I have brought my new mate here, I wonder what she thinks of it. I grasp her hand and show her what I have, which takes very little time. It’s not a large cave at all, just a single room with a depression in the back where I could store containers of food if I had any to store. Along the back is a small ledge which is good for keeping items off the ground. The ledge holds my flint and stone tools as well as the stomachs of two antelope which are filled with water. A little embarrassed by the lack of food, I show her the stone-lined fire pit in the front of the cave with the meat cooking on the spit. I point to the position of the fire, which allows the smoke to go out the entrance without making it difficult to breathe inside, even in the winter.

I glance at her, feeling nervous as I release her hand. She clasps her hands together in front of her, and her head moves slowly from one side to the other as she examines her surroundings.

Does she think it is good enough? What if she thinks it is too small? After so much time alone, I hadn’t considered that I might find a mate and hadn’t collected the things she would want and need to start her life with me. Now that I am thinking about it, I realize I have very little to offer a mate, not even much in the way of food.

With that thought, I remember my cooking and kneel down by the spit on the fire, my sudden and ravenous hunger overshadowing my thoughts surrounding my mate’s first impression of my home. I tear off a strip of the meat and chew on the end of it. It is warm from the fire and nicely fat from the animal’s winter stores. I gnaw on it until I have devoured the first piece, grab for another, and then another after that.

When I look up, I see her watching me. As I chew, I wonder if she is also hungry and groan at myself. Here I am hoping to impress my new mate with the cave, and I haven’t even fed her! Choosing what looks to be the best piece, I jump quickly to my feet. She startles and steps away from me as I approach, holding out a strip of the antelope’s tender flesh for her.

Her eyes are wide again, and her hands tremble. Her head jerks from one side to the other as she continues to back away from me. I hold the meat out to her in offering again, but she starts making those sounds just before she bolts off to one side, heading back to the entrance of the cave.

Instinctively I dart after her, grabbing her around the waist before she can get more than an arm outside. It will be dark very soon; the sun has almost completely disappeared over the horizon. She would never survive the night alone and out in the open. I pull her back against my chest and drag her toward the fire.

My ears start to ring with the sounds coming from her mouth. She alternates between screams that sound as though she is in agony and the strange, more fluid sounds that come from the back of her throat. They are unusual, rhythmic, and I still don’t like them.

Her fingers claw at my arms as I wrap them both around her torso and sit down on a torn grass mat next to the fire with my mate in my lap. I hold her tight against me as I look around the cave and wonder what she does not like. She is obviously very upset about something, and she continues to twist and turn in my grasp as I try to determine what could be considered so lacking.

It occurs to me that it might be the whole place. It is small—perfectly fine for me but not large enough for her and her children. I only have one grass mat, and it’s not very well made, but she could make more of those over the winter. She has certainly noticed I don’t have any food left over from the winter and is probably worried I won’t be able to provide enough for us both. Except for my recent kill, I don’t have any food at all. She might even think I don’t have enough wood to keep us warm, but I have more in another crevice in the rock up above the cave. It is too dark outside now to show it to her, but I could reassure her in the morning.

I let her struggle against me until her movements slow down and eventually stop. I am pleased that I was right about my strength compared to hers. She would at least know I was strong enough to protect her.

I feel myself smile again, and I wonder if she will eat now.

Before I can offer her the meat once more, my mate’s body shudders from her head to her feet as she begins to shake in my arms. I quickly flip her around so I can see her face, and I notice the tears staining her cheeks as the moisture is caught in the light from the fire. I examine her quickly—as much as I can see, anyway. With her strange clothes, it’s hard to see if her legs might be injured, but I don’t think she has been hurt. She is crying, but I don’t understand why. Was I already a bad mate for her? Was my cave really that inadequate? I would find her another one—there had to be more around in the rocks. If not, I could search for a new place, one that was bigger and better and perfect for her.

I
will
provide for her. I
will
protect her. I will give her anything she wants.

Another memory rolls around in my brain, images from when I was young, and my father held my mother tightly in his arms after one of my baby sisters died. She had also cried like this, and my father held my mother close to him, making quiet sounds in her ear until she stopped.

I whimper softly and pull my mate close to my chest, cradling her against me. At first, her hands push on my body as she tries to free herself from my grasp, but she is already exhausted from fighting me earlier and quickly gives up. Her head slumps down to my shoulder, and I bring my hand up to run down her hair. The feeling of the strands through my fingers is just as intriguing as it was before though I can’t enjoy it as I might since she is shaking in my arms.

My mate continues to sob.

I hold her for a long time, rocking her back and forth, my arms gently wrapped around her. I don’t know what else to do. The strange painted-on coloring around her eyes makes dark circles all the way down to her cheekbones. It smears further across her face as she wipes at her eyes.

When I try to offer her more food, she begins to sob again, so I guess she isn’t hungry. The sun completes its descent, and the cave darkens. She finally stills, but tears still run down her face. Only the light from the fire shows me that my mate’s eyes are still open and staring blankly off to one side. I feel my own fatigue setting in as the night covers the grasslands outside.

I have to move—my legs are numb from inactivity and having her sitting on me. I lift her and place her on the ground next to me and stretch, trying to ignore how she has startled again. I stand but only take a minute to get my legs working again before I rebuild the fire, bank it for the night, and turn back to my mate.

She is watching me with red, swollen eyes. I have to swallow hard because of the strange feeling in my throat when I look at her. She pulls her knees up to her chest and places her chin on them, and her eyes move to the flickering flames. I drop down to my hands and knees and approach her again, moving slowly this time so she doesn’t startle. Her look is wary as I get closer, but she doesn’t try to get away.

I reach out and run the tips of my fingers over her leg, feeling the strange, almost rough texture of the material. There is no fur on it, but it doesn’t feel like any leather I have ever felt. I move my other hand to my waist where my fur is tied around me to have some comparison. My clothing is much softer than what she is wearing. She cringes a bit, and all of her muscles become tense as I touch her. I shift a little closer, trying to figure out just what she is thinking as I look into her bright blue eyes, but I have no idea.

Moving to her side, I reach out and run my hand over her hair again. She doesn’t try to push me away this time though another shudder runs through her body. I stroke the soft strands just a few times before I realize there are tears falling from her eyes again.

I look at her more closely, but I still don’t know why she cries. Taking a deep breath, I realize I’m too tired to figure it out now and decide to go to sleep. I get up on the balls of my feet first, then reach one arm underneath my mate’s knees and wrap the other arm behind her back as I stand. She lets out a little yelp as I lift her but then goes silent. I turn and carry her to the back of the cave where I sleep.

At least my bed is something she can appreciate. I had dug out a long, shallow trench and filled it with dry grass from the steppes. Covering the grass are several of the furs I have made over the many seasons I have been here. The bed is deep and soft; the furs are warm and comfortable, and I will hold her and keep her safe throughout the night. The corner of my mouth turns up as I carry her to the spot where we will sleep, and I kneel down to lay her on the furs. It is very dark here in the back of the cave, and I can only barely see her trying to look around me to where the light from the fire can still be seen.

She makes no effort to remove her strange clothes for sleeping, and I’m not sure exactly how they come off. I decide to let her leave them on if she wants but quickly remove the fur wrapped around my body and toss it off to the side.

My mate’s eyes go wide, and I hope she can see my strength. I smile at her slowly and then kneel down beside her to get into the furs. I place one hand near her shoulder and toss my leg across her waist.

My mate’s eyes fill with tears again as she screams and begins her barrage of indecipherable noises. Her hands come up to cover her face as she shakes her head back and forth when I crouch above her. I don’t understand what has upset her so much, and I quickly look around to make sure the bed is as I left it.

It seems fine, and I remain confused as I crawl the rest of the way over her body and place my back near the wall. As I reach out and grab for her, I am met with her struggling resistance and more shouting. She turns so her back is toward me and tries to get out of the bed. I hold tight as she wriggles against me, and my grip on her body doesn’t falter as she continues to cry and scream.

I take in and let out a long breath, wondering what I should be doing to calm her, but I am at a loss. Without knowing what else to do, I pull her back tightly against my chest and wrap my arms around her waist. From the firelight, I can easily see the entrance to the cave and further protect her from anything that might seek to harm her in the night.