Page 23 of The Weaver

She was dressed in a Homeworld Initiative jumpsuit from the ship, but due to wear and tear, it’d been altered into a two-piece outfit consisting of shorts and a sleeveless top.

“I do not know that word, Lacey. But if it means he is failing his duty, it is the right word,” Ketahn said with a rumble.

The curtain was moved aside again, and Telok poked his head through the opening, green eyes narrowed. “Kess’ur ikar tes kir,Ketahn?”

Did you speak of me, Ketahn?

Ketahn gnashed his mandibles. “Kir’ur ikar tes kess.”

I did speak of you.

“Laceykota?”

Ketahn nodded.

Telok stepped fully into the den and jabbed a long, clawed finger toward Lacey. “Ah’ur ven’dak zeta. Kir’ur ikar ven’dak nek ursh, ova ah’ur lenaal ahn’ganok saal saavix ursh.”

He was speaking too quickly for Ahmya to understand everything, but the gist seemed to be that Lacey hadn’t listened to him.

“Hey!” Lacey pointed at Telok. “It’s rude to talk about people when they can’t understand you.”

“Whatthuddy-duddy?” Telok asked in harsh, accented English, glaring at Lacey.

She smirked at him. “It means you’re boring, dull, no fun. Like you have a stick rammed up your spider butt.” Lacey finished that sentence by swinging her fist like she was jabbing said stick up there herself.

He narrowed his eight eyes further, reducing them to faintly glowing green slits. “Arvok ah’ur ikar,Ketahn?”

What did she say, Ketahn?

Ivy covered her grin with a hand, but it didn’t hide the mirth in her eyes.

“Kess’al shon uniran ah’ani ikarahl,Telok, vux kess’al zeki ah,” Ketahn replied.

Telok growled, casting his narrow-eyed glare at Ketahn before demonstrating another gesture he’d learned from Cole, Diego, and Will—lowering all but the middle finger on his hand.

“What did you say to him?” Lacey asked.

“Ketahn said he should learn your words so he can ask you himself,” Ivy replied with a chuckle.

Lacey smiled sweetly at the black and green vrix. “Telok wouldn’t like the words I have for him.”

Telok stared at her, eyes dipping to her mouth. Something intensified in his gaze, a building heat not unlike that which Ahmya had so often seen in Ketahn’s eyes when he looked upon Ivy.

Or Rekosh’s eyes when he looks at me…

And yet Telok offered Lacey the same gesture he’d just made toward Ketahn, raising his long middle finger.

Ahmya’s jaw dropped, and Ivy burst into laughter.

“Wow. I missed you too, smart ass. Anyway!” Lacey approached Ahmya and peered down at Akalahn, her expression softening as she brushed a finger along the bridge of histiny nose. “I’m here to collect Ahmya. The thornskulls are ready to head out to gather supplies for the celebration.”

“Celebration?” Ivy asked. “What are they celebrating?”

Lacey gave her a droll look. “Ivy, you just had a hybrid vrix baby. That’s kind of a big deal.”

“Garahk and Nalaki wanted to celebrate right away, but Diego convinced them to give you a few days to recover beforehand,” Ahmya said. “He had to make them understand that giving birth is strenuous for humans and that you need time to rest and heal, so they want to use that time to go out and gather extra food.”

“They’re pretty much holding a village-wide feast in honor of you two and little Akalahn.”

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