Nanny For The Alien General by Athena Storm
Serafina
Istare at Keilon, mesmerized by the terrible resignation on his face. I wasn’t even thinking about the lake starting to freeze. Snowfall I can sense on the winds, in any number of little signals, but the lake icing over… that I can only use my eyes for.
It’s early this year, and my eyes were plenty busy with my new house guests. I should’ve remembered the freeze up might be coming, but at the same time it seems impossible that I would have. I have my hands more than full with these two children, and caring for Keilon’s health.
I can tell he’s devastated, which makes me feel bad for him. There’s also a little pang at the realization that he considers being trapped with me for another week or two to be a terrible fate. But, I shove that aside.
It doesn’t matter what Keilon thinks of me, or whether he likes my company. He’s my patient, and he wanted to go home. And now he can’t.
I go to his side, and shift so I’m under his arm. There’s no way I could support all of him, but he needs something. He’s already wavering on his feet.
“Hey,” I say gently. “Staring at it isn’t going to help. Come back to the cabin, okay?”
He lets out something like a low growl in the back of his throat. Somehow, I know it isn’t directed at me, or aggressive. It sounds like a massive predator grumbling that his dinner is too small, which almost makes me laugh.
Luckily, I don’t, as I sense it would push Keilon away. He doesn’t wiggle away from my support, but he doesn’t turn around either. His eyes are still locked on the lake.
“Come on.” I adjust my tone, going for commanding but kind. “You aren’t going to change the water temperature by staring at it. And if you collapse here, it’s going to be a big production getting you back.”
“All right.”
That’s all he says, but he leans into me and lets me turn him around.
It’s baby steps now, nothing like his impetuous speedy hobble to the shore. The kids hover at our heels like anxious ducklings. Once we finally get back to the cabin, he practically falls back into bed.
The color is leached from Keilon’s deep golden skin, and a thin sheen of sweat coats his brow. He’s clearly exhausted, as well as profoundly miserable at his situation.
“I’m amazed you could make it down to the lakeshore at all,” I tell him. I want to perk him up, but it’s also the truth. “I guess Kiphian males do heal fast. I’d have thought you were a day or two out from being able to walk that far.”
“Well, I didn’t heal fast enough,” he replies, words laced with bitterness and frustration. I think about saying something nice, but I don’t want to let him wallow.
“You can’t cheat the natural way of things,” I retort. His eyes widen, like I’ve said something he recognizes. Hopefully he’s simply facing up to the reality of this situation.
I decide to let him stew if he needs to, and go make dinner. The kids are underfoot pretty much the whole time, but I’m learning to work around them.
“What’s that?” asks Emex for perhaps the fiftieth time.
“That’s jurvi,” I say patiently. “It’s a kind of bitter green.”
“Bitter, yeuch!” Emex makes a disgusted (but still adorable) face. “Not me!”
“Okay, I’ll leave it out of yours.” I grin silently to myself, as I chop the jurvi up into tiny pieces. Emex is never going to notice it when it’s this small, in stew.
Belanna keeps offering me ingredients she thinks I need — imitating her father this morning, I believe — and manages to miss the mark every time. I’m laughing as I tell her to go put back the qar shish peppers for the third time.
“Go see your father, you two!” I’m hoping my merriment takes the sting out of the command. “The last steps of this recipe are very tricky!”
“Don’ wanna,” says Belanna, at the same time as Emex says
“Not now.”
That backfired. I bite my lip as I shoot a glance at Keilon. He looks hurt, and avoids my eyes. I almost try to send the kids to him again, but don’t want to risk it. Why don’t these two have more of a bond with their father?
Eventually we settle in to eat. As always, the children are little tornados, inhaling everything while also spraying bits everywhere. I expect Keilon to mope, but to my surprise he’s the first to speak.
“Thank you for dinner,” he says, taking a bite. “Once again, it’s delicious.”
“Oh, I’m glad you like it.” I smile at him, and get a dip of the head in return. That’s something, I suppose.
“What…” He trails off. “You seem very skilled, in many things. What is it you do, in this secluded place?”
My eyebrows raise. He’s asking about me? That isn’t what I would’ve expected, on the evening of the day he learned he was stuck on a human island.
“My skills are more valuable here than anywhere else.” I shrug, trying to keep it light. I’m not trying to go into human inequality at the hands of the Kiphians right now. “I’m a healer, which is perhaps the most important, but I’m also a wind-reader.”
“You? A wind-reader?” Keilon looks impressed, which makes my chest hum a little. “Wind-reading is challenging weather forecasting, even for Kiphians born and raised here. Your people came on the first of the colonists ships, didn’t they?”
“They did,” I acknowledge. “But for me, the relationships between the winds and the clouds and the water and the sun… they’re clear as a bell.”
“Relationships? Do you mean patterns?” Keilon cocks his head. I don’t detect anything patronizing in his tone, only curiosity, which makes me continue.
“No, I mean relationships. Take rainclouds — the low ones that hang just above the horizon. They’re lonely souls at heart, but when their gregarious friend the south wind picks up, more rainclouds show up. The wind has brought them all together. Now, what kind of party they have, that depends on the humidity and the sun.”
“Clouds have a party???” Belanna jumps a bit at that. “I wanna go!”
“Not rainclouds, fluffy ones,” puts in Emex, grinning from ear to ear.
“Mmm, let me see if I can get you an invitation,” I reply playfully. Looking up, I finally catch that evasive smile hovering on Keilon’s face. He looks open, and remarkably calm. “What do you do?” I find myself asking.
“Ah… administration,” he mumbles. “It’s not interesting. Not like the clouds. Now how about the west wind? Belanna, you’ve met the west wind before, remember? That time in your treehouse.”
Belanna lights up at her father bringing up a memory of theirs. I decide to roll with it, even though Keilon hasn’t tricked me one bit. His answer to my question was nothing if not evasive.
This Kiphian has a secret.
