Page 4 of Caveman Alien's Terror

I take the pot of watery sap and put it into the backpack with hands that are still shaking. “I kind of hope we’ll never know. Well, we got what we came for. We can go home.” I do have someidea who he was. But I don’t want to say it out loud before I talk to someone who knows more.

We start walking back the way we came, Anter’az in front with the sword in his hand.

Before I step out of the clearing and into the jungle, I turn to give the salen tree a last look.

My heart jumps in my chest. There he is again, the big, blue male, casually leaning up against the tree and grinning with the most perfect teeth in the world. His sheer beauty creates a sucking feeling in my stomach, accompanied by a jolt of fear. Because he’s definitely looking only at me, just like when he talked to us. And while having your crush noticing you across a crowded room feels great, having this astonishing male beaming at me across an empty jungle clearing is somehow much more exciting and also blood-freezingly scary. He either likes me or has singled me out as the prospective victim for some terrible crime.

Alba steps into my field of vision, and when I look past her, he’s gone.

“Must have been an alien,” she says, oblivious to him having just shown himself again.

“Must have been,” I echo as I reluctantly turn and walk on. “I wonder how many there are.”

She clutches her spear. “I hope not too many. He seemed unpredictable, you know? But did you notice that he spoke English to us? Like, totally perfect English?”

“Yeah. Maybe he has something to do with Earth. Or with the Plood and their saucers.” The vibrantly alive jungle around mesuddenly feels gray and mundane. A bit of electric blue would liven it up a lot.

Astrid steps around a tall root. “Maybe. Imagine a gang of those things coming to attack the tribe. I didn’t even see him move, did you? He was just there!”

“He moved fast,” I agree. “I didn’t see a weapon, though. Maybe he’s some kind of rescue alien, saving Earth girls from their own mistakes.”

“Sorry I triggered that tree,” Alba says and sends me an apologetic look. “I didn’t think it would bethatsensitive.”

“I don’t think it was you,” I tell her honestly. “I think it was the whole thing, drilling into it and harvesting its sap and all that. I think it just had enough, and that soft touch was the last drop.”

“Let’s never go back there,” she suggests. “Nothing is worth that kind of danger.”

I look behind us again, but to my mixed relief and disappointment, there’s no trace of blue scales. “Almostnothing.”

2

- Astrid-

“Interesting,” Melr’ax says and peers at the spike from the salen tree. “I’ve never seen it react like that from simply being drilled into. Are you sure you didn’t accidentally kick it? Perhaps the end of your spear happened to slam into it?”

“We were very careful, just as you instructed,” I tell the old man patiently. Sweat is starting to run down my temples from the heat of the fire he always keeps going in his hut, despite the tropical climate. “But there was someone else.” I glance at the door to the hut to make sure nobody is eavesdropping.

Crusty old eyes meet my gaze. “Someone else?”

“A man,” I begin, not sure how I can describe him in a way that comes even close to the impression he gave me. “Big. Not a tribesman. He was blue all over. Thick muscles. Silver trousers. Black boots up to his knees. Yellow eyes with white stars in them. Scales instead of skin. Or under the skin, maybe. He… hm.” I sigh in frustration. All these words feel too earthy and mundaneto describe someone as god-like as that alien, as if I’m insulting him and dirtying him by using them about him.

“Scales?” Melr’ax ponders, leaning back in his chair. “Any weapons? Items he was carrying?”

“None. But he gave me this.” I show him the salen fruit.

“How did you feel? Were you terrified just looking at him?”

“Yes,” I admit. “He didn’t do anything to threaten us. He actually stood between the tree and us, so that all the arrows hit him. Saving our lives, probably. But still he made me afraid.”

“It’s concerning,” the old shaman creaks. “You have just given me a perfect description of the Darkness. Our enemies. The dragons.”

I nod slowly. “That’s what I thought. From what you’ve taught me. And the wall symbols that Bronwen found.”

The old shaman pulls his coat tighter around him. “Those symbols were an omen that the Darkness would soon be upon us. And now you’ve seen it. Likely because you are to be the new shaman of the tribe. The Darkness has shown itself to you specifically. Perhaps in some declaration of war.”

I pinch the front of my dress and pull it out from my sweaty skin to keep it from clinging. “To me and to Alba and to Healer Anter’az. We all saw him. But there was only one of them, I think. And I’m still only your apprentice.”

Melr’ax smiles. “An apprentice who does all the work the full shaman should be doing. I think I will retire soon. May I see the fruit?”

---