Nanny For The Alien General by Athena Storm
Serafina
I’m sitting reading by the light of my ion lamp when I hear it. An eerie sound on the wind, carried to my ears even through my sturdy cottage’s walls.
It sounds like crying. Hopeless, helpless, scared, crying.
Now, some of the animals around here make remarkably human-like sounds. When the group of us first settled out here, I nearly jumped out of my skin the first time I heard a felfa caught by some predator. They’re small, rodent-like little things, but the sounds they make can sound like a keening woman.
This, though, is like nothing I’ve ever heard before.
Unable to stifle my sense that something is wrong, I put down my book — with some reluctance, as it’s the newest book Lorvac managed to smuggle me. Unlike the other books in my cottage, I haven’t read this one a hundred times yet.
Yet a new wave of crying launches itself at me through the night, and I stop thinking about books.
Wrapping myself in a warm jacket, I hustle down to the lakeshore. I’m following the sound, but something else too. Call it instinct, I suppose. In moments, I hear the slight lapping of the water against the sand and rocks.
Much louder than that, I hear the sound that brought me out here. It is definitely crying, and not from an animal. In fact, if I miss my guess, it’s coming from children.
That sobering realization makes me move my feet even faster. I’m nearly sprinting by the time I come upon them — and jerk to a shocked stop.
There is a sleek, expensive Kiphian skiff, complete with fanciful cabin, grounded on our shore. In the front of the boat huddle two Kiphian children, weeping their eyes out. They can’t be more than three or four.
Already, I’m going to them, my hands outstretched, even though they aren’t the most startling element of the scene.
No, that would be the seven feet of unconscious, badly bleeding Kiphian male sprawled out on the shore. His muscular body is covered in the same round bites that plague Telleli’s fishermen. Parts of his skin look almost shredded.
I know I should be terrified at the sight of Kiphians here. The idea that our oppressors could have found our illegal settlement is nauseating. Instead, however, I’m filled with concern and compassion. For the children, of course, but… for the male too.
I can’t abandon these Kiphians in need. That isn’t who I am. As foolish as it may be, there’s no question that I would never just leave them here to die.
“Hello,” I say, stopping my instinctive advance towards the children. I’ve noticed they’re drawing away from me, fear on their little faces. I am a stranger, after all. “I’m here to help you,” I promise.
The little ones look at each other. The boy’s face wears an expression of naked need and deep desperation. The girl’s is one of half-hope and half-distrust. Dimly, some part of my mind notes the irrelevant fact that they’re both shades of green, beautiful ones. They fit right among the lake and woods.
The boy lets out a yelping sob suddenly, which makes me nervous. What if less charitably minded villagers are drawn here by the same noises I was? I can’t bear the thought of fighting one of my people for the lives of these children, but I know I would if it came down to it.
“Hey, hey.” I take a small step closer, trying to sound soothing. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m very worried about you, actually.” Shrugging out of my jacket, I offer it to them. “You look frozen to the bone. Do you want this?”
This time, there’s barely a second of hesitation before the girl lunges at my garment. She pulls it out of my hands, and remarkably efficiently arranges it so it’s around both her shoulders and the boy’s. I’m beginning to be quite certain they’re brother and sister.
“Can you tell me what happened?” I ask. “How did you end up here?”
“Daddy.” The little girl points at the male with a scared sob, but then her voice firms up with anger. “Stupid boat ride! An’ it was BROKEN!”
“I see.” I nod thoughtfully, even though I don’t actually know for sure what she means. It seems simple enough to deduce that they were in this skiff, and for some reason its ion stone stopped working.
“Is Daddy gon’ die?” The little boy finally speaks, tears welling up in his expressive eyes. “Blood.”
“I don’t know,” I reply, honestly. I’ve learned it’s always better to be frank with children. “But I’m going to do my best to help him, and you. Okay?”
No verbal response. The children’s gazes get more suspicious for an instant, before they soften.
“If I’m going to help your father though, we need to get moving. We need to get him to my house. Will you help me?”
“We help Daddy,” responds the girl then, decisive despite the quiver of her lip. That said, she doesn’t waste any time in clambering out of the boat, and giving a hand to her brother to do the same.
“What are your names?” I give them a gentle smile, crouching down to their level. “Mine is Serafina, but you can call me Sera if you like.”
“Belanna,” announces the little girl. She opens her mouth again, but stops and nudges her brother instead.
“Emex,” he mumbles.
“Well, Belanna and Emex, what do you say we get you all — including your Daddy — somewhere safe and warm. Does that sound good?”
They nod, and I take that as permission to disengage from them a bit and go check on their father. I hear their soft footsteps following me too, which is heartening.
The bites are even worse up close. Due to them happening in the water, the male’s wounds haven’t clotted much at all yet, either. He’s lost a lot of blood, and is losing more.
I silently curse myself for not bringing my kit with me. I knew someone could be in danger, didn’t I? Perhaps not consciously, but what else was the urgency that drew me out here?
As I begin to calculate how best to transport the Kiphian as swiftly as possible, I see that beneath the blood are very, very fancy clothes. The kind that wealthy merchants and politicians wear in Evervale.
If he’s that high up in the pecking order, he might be an even bigger threat to Telleli than I thought. Bringing him into my home, healing him… these might be very unwise actions.
Yet looking at him, I feel what I can only describe as a pull. It’s odd, but very real, and very insistent.
It tells me that no matter what, I have to help him.
