Enthralled by Tiffany Roberts

Chapter 10

With tough,leathery skin, hard muscles, and a dense bone structure, vrix gave away very little with their bodies—and even less with their nearly unchangeable facial expressions. What clues they offered in body language were usually subtle. That had been Ivy’s experience with Ketahn, at least.

But she’d spent enough time with him to learn some of his tiny tells.

As usual, Ivy was sitting astride his hindquarters with her arms around his torso as he traversed the boughs, heading home. Though the difference from the norm was miniscule, she recognized the extra tension in his muscles. She felt the hint of stiffness in his movements. And she couldn’t ignore the low, faint growls that occasionally punctuated his exhalations, rumbling into her through his broad, solid back.

“You can talk to me,” she said, smoothing a palm over the ridges of his abdomen. “You don’t have to hold it all in.”

Making a decidedly contemplative trill, Ketahn slowed his pace. The gloom was already thick in the jungle below, where the bioluminescent vegetation had been growing more visible by the minute, but up here there remained a few shreds of red-orange sunlight.

“You know all that troubles me, my heartsthread,” he said after a few seconds. “The dangers we face. The…the bigness of this task.”

“I do. But I also know there’s something more now. Something new after meeting the other humans.”

He grunted and extended his arms to grasp another thick branch, drawing himself up onto it.

“You’re upset that they didn’t call you spider man, right?” Ivy grinned. “I could let them know next time, if you want…”

Ketahn let out a short, sharp hiss as he moved along the branch. “No spider man. They…do not know me. Not yet. They are afraid and unsure.”

Ivy frowned and tightened her embrace, resting her cheek against his shoulder. His long, violet-and-white-streaked black hair tickled her face. “They will know you. You just need to give them time. Then they will see you as I see you.”

He purred gently and dropped a hand to cover hers. “That does not trouble me, my nyleea. I have you, and you will always be enough.”

You will always be enough.

Ivy closed her eyes at the emotion that flooded her heart. For so long, she had hoped to hear that from her parents, to see it in their eyes. But she had never been enough—not for them, not for her ex, not for anyone she’d ever known. But to Ketahn…she would always be enough.

She blinked away her gathering tears and released a shaky breath. “What is it then?”

Ketahn huffed and shook his head. “That male. Cole.”

“I know he came off really…rough, but we need to give him some time to adjust. It’s not easy waking up only to discover your whole world has changed. To us, it’s like getting up from a single night’s rest to find everything we knew is…gone.”

Ketahn growled and drew to a halt. “That does not matter, Ivy. He touched you.”

Ivy’s brows furrowed. Ketahn’s body had tensed further, and the tiny hairs upon his legs were standing on end. She lifted her head and drew back to look at him, but he kept his mask-like face forward and his fists clenched at his sides.

Then it dawned on her.

“You’re jealous,” Ivy said.

“I do not know that word.”

“You do not like other males touching me, or even the thought of it.”

“Why would I like that?” he growled. “You are mine, Ivy. For him touch you that way…it makes me feel as I never have. It wakes something inside me, like a beast in my hearts. I would have killed him if not for you.”

Ivy pressed her palms to his back and slowly slid them up and over his shoulders until she could twine her arms around his neck. A shudder ran through him. She rose, pulling the silk rope binding them together taut, pressed herself flush against his back, and settled her cheek against his hair. “I’ve felt that way with you. Every time you’ve spoken of the queen touching you.”

He loosely grasped her forearms in one big hand, absently stroking his thumb across her skin. “I do not want her. I have never wanted her.”

“And I don’t want Cole.”

“He is human,” Ketahn said in an uncharacteristically small, tight voice. “He has hair like yours, eyes like yours. Two arms and two legs.”

“Looks do not always matter, Ketahn.”

Tanner, her ex, had been a gorgeous man, and all it had done was blind her to the terrible person behind that handsome face. No, looks didn’t mean a damn thing.

Ivy inhaled his earthy, mahogany-and-spice fragrance. It was like an aphrodisiac; it flowed through her, making her nipples harden and her core heat and clench. “I belong to you. Not Him.”

“Yes,” he rumbled, turning his face toward her. His eyes were fierce. “You are mine. And I will make sure none can question it. I will roar my claim to the entire jungle.”

A giggle escaped her. “Don’t you already do that?”

His gaze softened, and he chittered, dropping a hand to run along her calf. “Ah, my nyleea. I will do it again and again until the sky falls upon the jungle and this world is no more.”

Badump-badump.

Ivy’s heart quickened, and that inner warmth spread to encompass her entirely. How…how could this not be love?

She touched her forehead to the side of his and closed her eyes. “We should keep going.”

He grunted his agreement, but it was several long, blissful seconds before he finally resumed their journey. Ivy sat back down and slipped her arms around his torso, keeping herself pressed firmly against him.

Some of the stiffness in his movements had faded, and some of the tension in his muscles had eased, but it was not all gone. Ivy feared it wouldn’t be—not for a long, long time, anyway. Cole was just one of many sources of stress, and there was no telling if another day to recover and adjust would improve the man’s demeanor at all.

She’d grown familiar enough with this part of the jungle—even up here, high in the trees—to know that they were less than a minute away from the den when Ketahn halted abruptly. His muscles went taut again, and he flattened a hand on a tree trunk to steady himself as he rose high on his long legs and turned his head.

Ivy’s heart quickened for an entirely different reason now. She knew this posture—he’d heard something out of place. Forcing herself to breathe as slowly and quietly as she could, she listened intently too.

It was only because the jungle’s ambient sounds had become so normal to Ivy that she was able to pick out what had alerted him—voices from the direction of the den, barely audible over the rustling leaves and distant animal calls. Though too muted to make out any of the words, they were clearly speaking the vrix tongue.

“Is it them?” she asked quietly.

“Perhaps.” Ketahn crept forward, his long limbs moving fluidly and silently, his barbed spear at the ready. His head moved side to side and up and down ceaselessly as he scanned the boughs all around.

Though she doubted she’d ever spot a threat before Ketahn, Ivy kept her eyes moving, too. For as often as she felt like she was in some tropical paradise with him, she could never forget the jungle’s constant dangers.

The voices grew clearer as Ketahn climbed toward the den.

“…not here,” said one vrix in a surprisingly smooth voice.

“We do not know until we go up and check,” said another in a deeper, more gravelly tone.

“Were he in there, he would have heard you a full moon cycle ago. You stride as though you mean to break everything beneath you,” the first replied.

“It is not like him to be late. All I am saying is we should go and check. What if he was hurt, and he lies there dying even now?”

“There is no blood scent,” a third vrix said, his voice lower and raspier than the first two.

Ivy had to concentrate to follow their conversation; they spoke quickly, just as Ketahn had with his sister, which left her mind scrambling to untangle the alien syllables and find the recognizable words amongst them. That really made her appreciate how Ketahn always slowed his speech for her, giving each of his words space to breathe—and giving Ivy time to translate.

“How can you be sure from down here?” the second vrix asked.

“When was the last time you stalked the Tangle, Urkot?” asked the first.

Urkot grunted. “What does that matter, Rekosh?”

“You are not likely to smell anything through the stone zirkeetahn in your nose,” Rekosh said.

Ketahn made a muffled sound that shook his chest. It took Ivy a moment to realize it was a suppressed chitter.

“Quiet,” the third vrix snapped. The air grew tense in the ensuing silence, and even the jungle itself seemed to hold its breath. “Show yourself, or my spear will taste your blood.”

By the sound of it, the other vrix were just on the other side of the nearest tree trunk—below the dangling nest that had become Ivy’s home.

Drawing himself onto a thick branch jutting from that trunk, Ketahn let that chittering out fully.

“Ketahn,” Urkot growled. “Show yourself so Telok can stab you for playing such a game.”

“Be at ease,” Ketahn called. “I must know if you were—”

“We were not followed,” Telok said, “though a pair of Claws tried. They trailed us through Takarahl and into the Tangle, but we left them behind near the Khalthai’ani Hak.”

“No simple matter with Urkot joining us,” said Rekosh.

“As though you vikar a hundred words with each step is any better,” Urkot replied.

“Have they been like this the entire journey?” Ketahn asked, his mandibles raised in what must’ve been a smile.

“Yes,” Telok said with a huff. “All the skills I taught them, they have long since forgotten. They must have scared away every beast within ten zekkan segments.”

“We were but doing our part in making the Tangle safer for us all,” said Rekosh.

Ketahn raised a hand, tugging on his bound hair. “I am glad you have come, all the same.”

“Have you called us here to play hunter-hider, or do you simply wish to spare our eyes the sight of you?” asked Urkot.

Ketahn’s chitter was genuine, but it was short. He lowered his hand and bowed his head, releasing a quiet, unsteady breath. “No. I have something to show you.”

“Then show us,” said Rekosh.

Ivy curled her fingers and dug her nails into Ketahn’s chest. She knew this was the plan, knew he’d asked his friends to come so they could meet her, but now that it was happening, anxiety prickled her skin. The humans had been shocked—and some disgusted—when they’d see Ketahn. How would these vrix react upon seeing her? Would they accept her?

Ketahn looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes soft and warm. “You are safe, my heartsthread.”

Ivy took in a deep breath and relaxed her grip on him. She nodded. “I know. I trust you.”

He dropped a hand to her thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Then, keeping his spear in one hand, he climbed up the tree trunk and around to the branch upon which his friends were waiting.

“What is clinging to you, Ketahn?” asked Urkot as Ketahn settled on the wide bough—the same one upon which Ahnset had stood during her previous two visits.

Ivy didn’t immediately see the other vrix, as Ketahn was facing them.

“She is a human.” Ketahn unfastened the silk rope that bound he and Ivy together. Once he’d pulled it free, he reached back to offer her his hand.

Urkot grunted. “A hyu-nin?”

“What was that sound you made?” Rekosh asked. He attempted to reproduce the m sound, failing just as thoroughly as Ketahn had when he’d first tried.

“There is much for me to tell you,” Ketahn said.

Ivy hesitated briefly before placing her hand in Ketahn’s, but he did not rush her. She peeked out from behind him at the three vrix standing before them. Her eyes flared. They shared Ketahn’s spiderlike features, but each was so unique from the others.

One was nearly as tall as Ketahn, though he was more slender and graceful, if not a little sinister in appearance with his long, sharp claws and red eyes. He had crimson markings upon his hide with red and white streaks in his black hair to match. That hair was gathered in a thick, neat braid that was draped over his shoulder.

Next to him stood a shorter, bulkier vrix with blue and white markings. Dark, silky hair with bright blue streaks hung freely about his shoulders. His figure made her think of a bodybuilder—or perhaps more accurately a powerlifter. Though he was a good foot shorter than his nearest companion, he looked like he weighed twice as much, and all that weight was undoubtedly muscle. But what stood out most about him was his missing limb; there was only a patch of rough, scarred flesh where his lower left arm should have been.

The third vrix might have been able to pass for Ketahn from a distance if not for his green markings. He was of similar build to Ketahn, though a bit smaller, and held himself with similar confidence and ease. Though all three vrix bore visible scars—none so prominent as the missing arm—this one had the most. His green-and-white-streaked black hair was gathered in a topknot with a few loose strands dangling from it.

His intense, bright green eyes flicked toward Ivy, making her start. “What sort of creature is this, Ketahn? I have never seen its like.”

Ivy swallowed thickly. Battling back her nervousness, she shifted her weight and, using Ketahn’s hand for support, swung her leg over his side to slide of his hindquarters. Her feet came down gently on the branch. Situating herself between two of his spindly legs, she swept her gaze over his friends.

“My name is Ivy,” she said in the best vrix she could manage.

All three vrix recoiled, mandibles spreading and eyes flaring.

“It spoke,” said the red vrix. “It spoke words, Ketahn.”

“She,” Ketahn corrected. “And how else would she speak, Rekosh?”

“All beasts have their calls,” the green vrix said, “yet only vrix make words.” His raspy voice marked him as Telok—which meant the bulky, blue-marked male was Urkot.

Ketahn chittered. “None but vrix and humans.”

“That sound again.” Urkot tilted his head, glancing briefly at Ketahn. “What… I do not understand. What is this, Ketahn? What is she?”

“I am a human.” Ivy pressed her free hand to her chest. “And my name is Ivy.”

“Not just words,” Rekosh muttered as though he’d not heard anything that had been said since he’d made his statement a few moments before, “but vrix words.” He eased closer; the movements of his long, spindly legs were as smooth as his voice.

“Vrix words?” Urkot tilted his head and folded his upper arms across his chest, bracing his lower right hand against his hip. “You can understand what she is saying? I would better understand a thorn skull than her.”

Ivy tipped her head back to look up at Ketahn. “What does he mean? A…thorn skull?”

“Thornskulls are the vrix we battled in Zurvashi’s war. They speak differently than us,” Ketahn replied in a blend of English and his native language. “Many of their words are similar, but the way they say them are not the same. It can be difficult to understand what they are saying, and there are words that lose their meaning between us.”

When Ivy lowered her gaze again, she found the other vrix all staring at Ketahn.

“Have you suffered a head wound?” Telok drew nearer, his mandibles twitching. “I could make out only one of every few words you spoke, Ketahn.”

“He was speaking in my language,” Ivy said, drawing Telok’s attention to her again. His eyes were such a vibrant green, but they held so much of the predatory instinct she’d often seen in Ketahn’s eyes that they nearly made her falter. “At least in part. And if you…slow your words, I could understand you better.”

“What is she saying?” asked Urkot.

Rekosh let out a huff and glared at Urkot over his shoulder. “If you would try to listen, you would know. She said Ketahn was speaking her language and asked us to speak slowly.”

He’d slowed his words for his reply to Urkot—but only relative to how quickly he’d been talking before.

Just like that, Ketahn’s friends were staring at Ivy again. She felt like an animal in a zoo—one of the strange, rare creatures people would come to gawk at, odd enough to draw attention but too small and weak to instill fear.

This must have been how Ketahn had felt aboard the Somnium as the freshly awakened survivors stared at him, though the humans’ reaction had been motivated more by fright than wonder. Ivy was a soft, pale, misshapen thing to the vrix, but her mate was a huge, monstrous predator to her kind.

Ketahn’s friends moved closer still, and he shifted slightly, shielding more of her body with his. Ivy instinctually sought the cover he provided. Though these vrix were no more different from Ketahn than any of the human survivors were from Ivy, she didn’t know them, and they could easily rip her apart if they decided to attack.

But why was she hiding? These were Ketahn’s friends. If he trusted them enough to bring them here to meet her, she needed to trust them too. Ivy eased away from Ketahn, allowing the other vrix to see her fully.

“Is she a broodling?” Urkot asked. “She is so small.”

“No,” Ketahn replied. “She is full grown.”

Ivy arched a brow at Urkot. “She is right here and can speak for herself.”

Urkot blinked and tilted his head in the other direction. “A female in spirit, at least.”

“A female in shape, also,” Ivy replied. “Just not vrix shape.”

Telok and Urkot chittered at that, but Rekosh’s attention was otherwise occupied—his eyes were fixed on Ivy’s body. He closed the distance between himself and Ivy in a single long stride, so quickly that Ivy’s heart stuttered, and she gasped, retreating a few steps. But Ketahn placed himself in front of her before Rekosh’s extended hand, with its long, razor-sharp claws, could reach her, halting the red-marked vrix.

“Do not touch,” Ketahn snarled, his forelegs rising off the branch.

Though her view was largely obscured by Ketahn’s body, she saw the others flinch back.

“Ketahn?” Telok’s voice held a hint of uncertainty; something about his demeanor suggested such was not normal for him.

Ivy frowned. She hadn’t meant to cause turmoil between them. She knew Ketahn’s friends wouldn’t hurt her, and she was sure Ketahn knew it as well, but he was acting purely on instinct now—the same instinct that had interpreted Cole grabbing her as a direct threat, a challenge.

Stepping forward, she placed a hand upon one of his arms. His muscles rippled beneath her palm. She tilted her head back to look up at him, but his eyes were focused on the other vrix.

“It’s okay,” she said in English. “He just startled me, Ketahn.”

Ketahn’s eyes flicked down to meet her gaze. His mandibles twitched. With a huff, he wound that arm around her middle, drew her forward so she was standing in front of him, and dropped his forelegs to either side of her. His lower arms wrapped around her waist, clutching her against his abdomen, and his claspers hooked her hips.

“Whatever Ivy is,” he said, his voice low and rumbling, “know that she is my mate above all else.”

Though their expressions could change only by a small degree, all three vrix were clearly stunned. Rekosh’s mouth moved as though he meant to speak, but no sound came out; Telok’s eyes shifted repeatedly between Ketahn and Ivy; Urkot’s mandibles, dangling low, swayed as though in a gentle breeze.

It was Urkot who spoke first. “By the Eight. Mate?”

Hearing the vrix word for mate—nyleea—from someone other than Ketahn was strange. It didn’t have nearly the same fire with which he instilled it, didn’t have the same purr. And Urkot had spoken it with shock.

“This is what you have been hiding,” Rekosh rasped. “She is what you have been hiding. The silk she is wearing…”

Ivy glanced down at her dress, the gift Ketahn had given her—a reminder of the night he had first claimed her as his. She touched the small tear at the waist where Cole’s finger had snagged and frowned.

She met Rekosh’s gaze. “Ketahn made this for me.”

Something softened in Rekosh’s eyes, and Ivy felt a spark of understanding—and she knew that she was now being looked at as a person, as an equal, and not some curiosity.

“Yes. He made it in my den. From suncrest to sunfall, he worked, kitua to finish it and leaving me to wonder why, after so long, he was weaving. And now I understand.” He flicked his gaze to Ketahn. “And I was right.”

Ketahn grunted. “About?”

“Your lisiv mate. I was right!”

“Yes,” said Ketahn with a chitter of his own. “And so was I.”

Rekosh chittered. “So you were. This certainly beats any sythikar I have ever heard in Takarahl, which is all of it.”

“How long?” Telok asked, again shifting his attention between Ketahn and Ivy.

“I found her two moon cycles ago.” Ketahn smoothed a palm down Ivy’s hair. “The day I made my offering of mender roots to the queen.”

Urkot thumped a leg on the branch, creating a vibration that even Ivy felt in her feet. “And you just…mated her?”

“No. I thought her a strange beast at first. A pet. I thought I had captured the rarest creature in the jungle, and my pride was such that I did not understand it was Ivy who had caught me.”

“You made no mention of this when we spoke the following day,” Telok said, eyes narrowing. “That is why you did not want me to join your hunt. You were hiding Ivy, even from me.”

“From all of us,” Rekosh added.

Ketahn huffed, banding another arm around Ivy’s chest to pull her closer still. “My broodsister also. Ivy is mine, and even now I am niktera to share her.”

Rekosh folded all four of his long arms across his chest. “Until you need aid.”

“She is my mate. My heartsthread. Her safety is all that matters to me.” There was a rawness in Ketahn’s voice that Ivy had rarely heard—one part possessive, one part protective, one part aggressive. But there was vulnerability in it too.

Ivy turned slightly toward him and cradled his jaw in her hand, stroking it with her thumb.

Ketahn met her gaze and tucked her hair behind her ear, caressing the shell. He looked back to his friends. “It gave me no pleasure to keep lisiv from you, but I have done only what I thought best for her. And I will do so always.”

Keep lisiv ?They were talking about Ketahn hiding Ivy from everyone… So did lisiv mean secrets?

“So this hyu-nin is the reason you have at last decided to leave?” Urkot scratched his cheek; only then did Ivy notice that his fingers and claws were coated in pale dust.

“She is.”

Rekosh chittered. “Thank you, Ivy, for making him finally see reason. Sometimes it seems Ketahn’s head is fuller of rocks than Urkot’s.”

Ivy’s brows furrowed.

“I would take that as praise, were I him,” Urkot said.

“I am sure you would,” Rekosh replied with a wave of his hand.

Telok scanned their surroundings with practiced care before returning his gaze to Ketahn and Ivy. “As welcome as your help would be in Takarahl, it is best you go. I do not know how you convinced the queen to let you walk away yesterday, but I would not see you risk another meeting with her.”

“I told her I would return in an eightday, gifts in hand, to conquer her,” Ketahn replied.

Though Ketahn had already told Ivy everything, she couldn’t help but clench her jaw against the jealous fires in her belly. He wanted nothing to do with the queen, but just hearing him say those words, imagining him taking the queen as he had taken her, was almost more than Ivy could bear.

“You what?” demanded Rekosh.

“Shaper, unmake me,” uttered Urkot.

“Of all the foolish things,” rasped Telok.

Though all three had spoken simultaneously, Ivy had no difficulty understanding them—her response to Ketahn’s news had been similar.

“It was the only way to earn time to prepare without Claws searching nearby,” Ketahn said.

“The Queen’s Claw has relaxed,” said Telok, “but they have not withdrawn. More of them are back in Takarahl, but others still stalk the jungle as though in search.”

Urkot grunted, absently reaching across his abdomen to scratch the scar on his side. “And there were the two that tried to follow us today, out of all the vrix in the city.”

“That was not by chance.”

“We cannot ignore the whispers, either, that the Prime Claw is missing,” said Rekosh. “Some go so far as to say the queen herself killed him in a rage while mating.”

Telok’s mandibles twitched. “Which matches her behavior during the High Claiming perfectly.”

The tension within Ketahn increased further, and when he exhaled, a deep growl rolled in his chest. But his hold on Ivy remained steady—firm and secure but not painful. She caught her lower lip with her teeth as she glanced between his friends. Unease settled in her belly.

“The queen did not kill Durax,” Ketahn said. “I did.”

If Ketahn’s friends were shocked by the revelation, they betrayed little of it in their reactions. Their moods seemed more contemplative than anything as far as Ivy could tell.

Telok cradled his spear along a forearm and folded his arms across his chest, angling his head down. “He found you.”

“Yes. But not here.”

“I always knew Durax would force it to such an end,” Urkot grumbled.

“Even had he not forced a battle, I would have,” Ketahn continued. “He found more than me. He found Ivy…and the rest of her kind.”

Urkot’s mandibles spread. “There are more like her?”

“Of course there are. They cannot very well hatch from nothingness.” Rekosh cocked his head and looked at Ivy, his long braid brushing across his chest. “The better question is why have we never seen them before?”

“We came from the stars,” Ivy said.

As one, Telok, Rekosh, and Urkot tipped their heads back to look skyward. Though the sky was darkening, it would still be a little while before the first stars were visible overhead—not that she could really point out the spot from which she’d come amidst all those glittering stars.

Ketahn combed his claws through her hair, producing a thrill along her scalp. Ivy knew it was more to comfort himself than her, but she appreciated it all the same.

“None but the Eight themselves can fly so high,” Urkot said. “How could these hyu-nins come from there being so small and soft?”

“There is much to explain, and I understand little of it,” Ketahn said, “but I will show you in two days. Bring what supplies you can gather to the pit that lies toward suncrest from this place.”

Now Telok’s mandibles rose, and he let out a low hiss. “That is a cursed place, Ketahn. Is the queen’s fury not enough that you now seek to anger dark spirits?”

“Do you remember, Telok, when I told you I fell? That is where I fell. That is where I found Ivy.”

The fine hairs on Telok’s legs bristled, and he backed away. “Is that what her kind is then? Hyu-nins are spirits, xinen of the fire beast trapped down by the Eight?”

“She seems a bit too solid to be a spirit, does she not?” asked Rekosh.

“Spirits can confuse the senses,” Urkot offered, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

Ketahn growled. “She is flesh and blood and bone, and she is my mate.”

Ivy gently pushed at one of Ketahn’s arms. He held firm, turning his attention down to meet her gaze.

She offered him a smile. “Let me.”

He tightened his embrace and flexed his fingers, pricking her skin with his claws, but finally he relinquished his hold.

She looked at the other vrix and stepped toward them. Despite living in a den far above the ground, despite traversing the branches and trees every day with Ketahn, walking along one on her own left her feeling off balance and uneasy. But she kept her attention forward, refusing to look down.

Ketahn’s friends watched her approach. Telok remained wary, and Urkot was unreadable, but there was something different in Rekosh’s eyes—at the very least, it was curiosity, but it might have bordered on excitement.

Stopping with a few feet between herself and the other vrix, Ivy lifted her hands, turning her palms up. “You can touch me.”

“Remember that she is my mate,” Ketahn growled from behind her.

Ivy’s lips stretched into a grin. She found she quite liked his jealousy.

Rekosh chittered and stepped toward her without hesitation, lowering himself so his eyes were closer to her level. Moving slowly, he lifted a hand and pressed his fingers gently on her palm, keeping those long, razorlike claws away from her skin. Though his hand was rough, it wasn’t as much so as Ketahn’s, and his calluses were primarily at his fingertips.

“As you have heard by now, I am called Rekosh,” he said in that smooth voice. “Should you desire truly kirilka silk, you need but ask. Ketahn is a clumsy weaver compared to me.”

“She will wear no one’s silk but mine,” Ketahn said.

Ivy chuckled. “It is nice to meet you, Rekosh.”

Rekosh’s eyes dipped to her mouth, and his mandibles spread. “You bare your teeth at me. Why?”

“It is a smile.” She smiled again. “It means I am happy.”

Telok narrowed his eyes. “For any other creature, it would be a threat.”

Urkot snorted. “Those teeth do not look threatening. She does not even have fangs.” Easing closer, he peered down at her hands. He wrapped his thick fingers around her wrist, ignoring Ketahn’s growl, and turned it to flip her hand over. “No claws either.”

Though he was shorter than his friends, Urkot’s hands were broader than Ketahn’s, and his fingers were thick and blunt tipped compared to his companions’—not that Ivy doubted his dust-caked claws could do real damage when he needed them to. His hand engulfed more than half her forearm. He could have crushed her bones with a simple squeeze, but his grip was loose and careful.

“Soft, too,” he continued. “And it is nice to meet someone with fewer arms than me for once.”

Laughter burst from Ivy.

Rekosh and Urkot looked at her quizzically, the former going so far as to lean closer and stare at her mouth as though to puzzle out how she was making that sound.

Ivy sobered and leaned back. She knew they were curious—she’d gone through this once already with Ketahn—but she couldn’t stop a resurgence of the feeling that she was on display like an oddity in a sideshow.

“It is called laughing,” Ketahn said. “It is the same as chittering.”

“A sound of amusement, then?” asked Rekosh.

“Yes. And it is louder when something is more amusing.”

Urkot trilled and bumped a foreleg against Rekosh’s. “She likes me better already!”

Telok grunted. “That is only because I have not introduced myself to her yet.”

“It is not likely you will win her over after saying she must be a dark spirit come to work her curses upon us,” said Rekosh, withdrawing his hand and easing back.

“There is no wrong in taking care,” Telok replied. “This is new. She is new. And there are many things in the Tangle that appear harmless at a glance yet are anything but.”

“I understand, Telok,” Ivy said, meeting his gaze. “It took me a while to be at ease with Ketahn, and I still feel…out of place in this jungle. But he has all my trust now, and because he trusts you, so do I.”

Telok’s eyes lingered on her for a few more heartbeats. Then he brought his forearms together and bowed; she knew from Ketahn it was a gesture of apology. “I do not know every word you say, Ivy, but I know your meaning.”

“She cannot make the sounds we do, but full understanding will come in time.” Ketahn stepped into place behind Ivy, placing one pair of hands on her shoulders and the other on her hips. “If you are still willing to help. I did not ask it of you before, but I would have the three of you come with us when we leave this part of the Tangle.”

“To leave behind Takarahl and everything we have known?” Urkot asked. “How would Rekosh survive without his sythikar?”

“I suppose I would have to learn to speak with trees and rocks like the rest of you,” Rekosh said with what seemed an exaggerated exhalation. “But we must understand that, with Ketahn gone, Takarahl will be far less welcoming to any of us in the queen’s fury. She has spared the three of us thus far, but she certainly knows of us.”

“She has threatened all of you, and my broodsister, to get at me,” Ketahn said, his deep voice rumbling into Ivy. “I never meant to put you in danger, but my wants cannot deter her.”

Telok glanced around again, drawing in a deep breath. “I have at times envied your life in the Tangle, Ketahn. But this is…it is much to think upon.”

“I know. You three have done much for me, and I have asked much more than I have any right to. Think on it. The humans need my aid if they are to survive…and I need yours if I am to help them.”

“You will have it, Ketahn,” Rekosh said, striding forward and touching one of his forelegs to Ketahn’s. “You can trust us.”