Nanny For The Alien General by Athena Storm
Serafina
Ican’t tell which makes me more angry. The fact that he lied (or at the very least skillfully omitted the fact that he’s the damn King) or the fact that my intuition told me something was off and I ignored it.
Either way, I’m pretty pissed.
For a few seconds, no words are exchanged between us. I use the time to sort out my thoughts. I’m seething with so much rage, at first I can’t even articulate what I’m thinking.
No, you know what you’re mad about. Tell him. Tell this ungrateful bastard.
“I’m not sure,” I begin, icily, “what I’m more angry about. The fact that you hid your true identity or that you, as the King of the Lakes, allowed your human subjects to suffer needlessly over and over again. You should be ashamed.”
My words hit him squarely in his broad chest. But rather than take the humble route and actually listen, I can see him draw himself up, offense crinkling at his features.
Setting his jaw, he responds.
“I am sorry I did not reveal my true identity. That was wrong of me…”
Here’s where the ‘but’ is coming. I can just feel it. In an effort to stop it, I put my hands up in an ‘I’m not about to listen’ gesture. This only serves to ratchet up his volume.
“But, I cannot agree with your assessment that humans have been suffering under my rule. They have hardly earned the respect of the Kiphians who are stewards here. Their destructive practices and ways of life have proven over and over again that our laws are necessary. They cannot be trusted with our land. Not all humans are like your settlement here. You are the exception to the rule.”
These last few words are overpowering and loud. And if he meant them to be an odd sort of olive branch, he’s out of his damn mind. Either way, I refuse to listen.
“Where, precisely, are you getting this information from? Who is telling you that all humans are destructive? Could it be wealthy Kiphian landowners, your trusted cronies and sycophants? Has it ever occurred to you that they might be biased in some way?
Now it is his turn to act like he won’t hear my words but I have no intention of backing down.
“Be careful who you are speaking to—-“
“How could I know how to speak to you? I only just found out who you are!”
The yelling is now off the charts and the cabin is full of rage. The children, who have been watching this entire exchange, start to whimper. Part of me wants to take the temperature down a notch but I’m too angry.
Besides, they are his children. Perhaps he should be cognizant of what they are seeing for once?
“That is no excuse!” His bellow practically shakes the cabin walls.
Before I can even form a comeback, I feel a slice of icy wind cut through me. The children, in utter distress, have bolted from the cabin, leaving the door swinging wildly.
“Emex! Belanna! No!” I yell, grabbing my coat to pursue them.
Keilon, his rage morphing into concern, gives me one last fiery look before following me outside. We have to get those children back inside and fast.
We couldn’t have picked a worse time to have a fight. The children have run out into the middle of a small storm and the snow is falling fast and thick. I can barely see a few feet in front of me and our tracks are quickly swallowed up in the whirling snow and wind. Though I try to pick out their little tracks, it’s almost impossible.
“Emex! Where are you?
“Belanna?” Keilon’s voice joins mine as we scour the area around the cabin.
“Let’s do this logically. You go around the cabin that way and I’ll meet you on the other side. I’m hoping they haven’t gone far.”
He nods sagely to me and disappears in the opposite direction. What I don’t tell him is that I’m worried they might have become so disoriented that they will wander too far away and in the direction of the village.
Even in this storm, someone is likely to be out and would spot them.
Gritting my teeth, I try to shoo the thought away.
Find them. They can’t have gone far.
Forcing myself to take in my surroundings and look for any signs of movement, I make a circle around one half of my cabin. With each step, my confidence in my plan erodes, anxiety rushing in to take its place.
When I see Keilon’s burst of red skin like a beacon in the maze of white, my heart sinks even further. He hasn’t found them either.
Without even asking, I can tell his look says ‘what now?’
“We need to spread out further. Go beyond the cabin. I just hope—-“
“I know, I know,” he says, almost as if he doesn’t want me to complete my thought either.
Together, we move further and further away from the cabin. We try not to yell out their names as the cabin recedes in the distance. The further we get away from it, the more porous our safety net becomes. We can’t risk someone overhearing us.
Soon, we clear the bank of trees that really sets the clearing leading to my cabin apart from the heart of the village. Now, we are truly in dangerous territory. And Keilon stands out like the alien intruder that he is. Or at least how my fellow villagers will perceive him.
But we can’t go back. Not without the children.
Gesturing to keep quiet, Keilon and I carefully break beyond the safety of the trees. As my eyes sweep the space before me, my heart leaps in two different directions. So far, we haven’t been spotted - a good thing. But, we still haven’t found the kids - a bad thing.
I am searching my brain, desperate to think of what to do next when I hear a scuffling to my left.
What I see causes all my anxiety to crash in on itself. Muffled against the weather, a villager I can’t identify steps out of the trees. In his grasp are the children, wriggling and squirming. But it’s clear they cannot break free of his grasp.
The villager’s eyes are the only part of his face that can be seen. And their look fills me with terror.
They look beyond me, as if I never existed. Instead, they bore right into the tall figure of Keilon. If eyes could kill, the Kiphian would never have had a chance.
This is very bad indeed.
