Serpent of the Abyss by S.J. Sanders
Chapter 17
Lori watched avidly as Slengral carefully scraped out a niche from the side of the wall. On his left was a basket full of damp dirt. On his right, galthie plants sat in a basket waiting to be planted in the cavern wall of their sleeping cell. That turn of phrase still sounded strange, but she couldn’t dispute it. It kind of fit, since the room was designed to be small and cozy with just a little excess room around the bed sunk into the ground for ease of access.
She just wouldn’t think of how the word made her imagine she was being imprisoned. Nor did she understand why, if galthie was so dangerous for her to take, why he filled his nest with them.
“So what’s with the galthie anyway?” she asked curiously. “You seemed pretty adamant about it not being outside, and yet you bring more in.”
Slengral glanced at her from the corner of his eye, not completely pulling his attention away from his work but making a fair compromise in dividing it. A low, thoughtful hum filled the room for only a second.
“The galthie can be dangerous,” he conceded, “but hunters require them for our nests. We do not have access to the luxuries that the shinara has. A hunter must hurry into his nest when he is carrying them because their scent attracts the zarkulth.”
Lori’s brow furrowed. Flowers attracted a predator? It seemed absurd.
“Why? They’re just flowers, not vats of warm, living blood.”
He gave a low, rumbling chuckle.
“I would not advise taking that out of the nest either,” he replied, the hard corner of his mouth inching up with amusement.
“Very funny,” she returned and tried not to giggle at the mental image that popped into her head. Okay, maybe it was funny.
“The tunnels are too narrow for any but the smallest zarkulth hatchling to traverse, and those are easily destroyed. Fortunately, the way we carve our entrances for our caves and add slats of stone makes it nearly impossible for even them to enter our nest. It is for that reason we have few concerns about having the galthie inside.”
“Okay, but why do they want it?”
“Breeding,” he said simply.
Lori gaped up at him. “Excuse me, did you just say that the giant bug wants these flowers… to breed?”
Another wonderful chuckle rumbled out of him.
“Not exactly,” he amended, his red eyes gleaming with humor. “They are attracted to these because they have to consume vast quantities in order to start their breeding season. It is a natural imperative for them. During the rainy season when the desert blooms, the caverns do as well. We have to mind not only flooding from above but also zarkulth, although many hunters do take the opportunity to gather the more plentiful galthie at this time. It is foolish, but understandable.”
“So you’re telling me that this thing was wandering nearby, smelled my handful of galthie, and came up here after them only to find a nice snack waiting for it too?” She stared at him incredulously as he flicked his horn-like crests and reached down to pick up another cluster of ‘attract a nightmare tick’ flowers.
Not only were ticks one of the insects that had managed to survive in abundance through the environmental devastation that occurred before Earth became unified, it seemed that she couldn’t get even escape them by going into space. Now they were just a thousand times worse and dangerously attracted to a plant that naturally grew in the cave system.
“That is an accurate summarization,” Slengral agreed, his voice humming with amusement.
He was teasing her. The realization made her blink, and a warm pleasure rush through her skin.
She was blushing like a teenager in front of the popular boy—again—and it didn’t even make sense. Physically, there was no resemblance between the quiet alien and the boys she grew up with. Nor really in mannerisms either. That didn’t seem to matter because she was, beet red and unable to speak for a long moment.
“Are you well, ashlava?”
Lori noticed that Slengral had stopped what he was doing and had turned her way, concern demonstrated in his lowered brow and his fully unfolded ear ridges attentively pointing toward her.
She somehow managed to unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth.
“Fine, absolutely fine,” she said hurriedly, brushing off his concern with a broad smile. He looked far from convinced but let out another low, thoughtful hum that danced over her skin before returning to his work.
She bent down and plucked up a plant, carefully untwining the leaves and vines caught on its neighbors before lifting it up to him. Slengral turned to reach for another plant and stopped, his eyes falling on the offered galthie. He paused, and Lori could feel the snap of energy in the air between them. Her breath caught as he leaned in closer, his red eyes meeting hers, staring intently into her. A shiver of something pleasant ran over her body, and a brightness flared in his eyes.
With infinite gentleness, he took the small plant from her, another hum rolling from his chest, this one longer with a timbre that curled through her, as he turned back to the wall and nestled it within the hole that he had made for it.
Lori was still shivering when he took a handful of damp dirt and packed it in firmly around the plant, her eyes glued to the corded muscle of his forearms and the hard strength of his hands.
Something between them had shifted, and she didn’t know what to think about it.