Page 31 of Tis the Season for Tentacles
“The thing is—” he starts to say.
I interrupt him. “So what kind of animal is pulling this contraption?” I keep my tone bright in an attempt to evade whatever uncomfortable conversational direction Najar was heading in.
He blinks for several moments. “Oh. It is a Frosthorned Snowdeer. Native to this world, they are capable of withstanding the harsh climate.”
I study the majestic creature from my vantage point in the carriage. It reminds me a little of a caribou in terms of its coffee-and-cream color coat, only larger and hairier—well, and possessing six legs. The animal is easily the size of a moose with an enormous, deadly looking horn in the center of its forehead.
Not exactly the unicorn of fairy tales, that’s for certain.
The thick, shaggy pelt covering its hide is no doubt why it survives in these frosty temperatures.
As we glide through the snow, I peer out at the winter landscape around us. I can’t help but marvel at this strange and fascinating world. As far as I can determine, rather than being a powdery, soft accumulation, the snow on the ground appears to be comprised of thicker, crystalline flakes that glitter in the sunlight in an almost blinding fashion. The deep layer of white all around us looks pristine and nearly untouched.
As we pass through a canopy of trees that resemble Douglas firs, only much larger and tinted an unusual blue color, I gasp at the appearance of an enormous glacier in the distance.
Najar follows my gaze. “From what I understand, there are quite a number of ice caves and tunnels within the glaciers onthis world. Some of them are safe for exploration.” He shifts in his seat. “That is, if you’d like to see them.”
I shiver and shake my head. “That certainly sounds amazing, but I tried spelunking once and that was more than enough for me. I discovered caves tend to make me claustrophobic.”
“I see,” Najar says before lapsing into silence.
Awwwkkkkwwwwaaarrrddd.
I’m adult enough to admit that part of this is my fault. I’ve been the one avoiding Najar on the ship.
Did he deserve it? Yes.
Was it a bit childish on my part? Probably.
I sigh. No doubt Luna arranged this situation so that we could spend some time together and get over our bullshit.
I take a fortifying breath and decide to act like an adult who can communicate with others. “Listen, I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you lately.”
Najar’s eyes widen. “There is no need for you to apologize. I am the one who should be apologizing to you.”
“You already did. I just… didn’t want to see you after all that went down, so I was being an idiot and avoiding you.”
“Luna told me that you were probably… afraid of me.” Najar’s voice trembles. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. The idea of it makes me deeply ashamed.”
His tentacles droop in his thermal suit and the miserable expression on his face looks full of remorse. Part of me wants to comfort him, but I shut that down fast. No way am I making a fool of myself yet again.
“The prospect of having my memories altered against my will is terrifying. It would be for just about anyone. But I also understand why you thought that was the most logical course of action.”
Hope blossoms in his colorful eyes. “You understand?”
I steel my resolve. “I do. However, that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt my feelings or scare me.”
His face falls.
“Sometimes, in life, the logical course of action isn’t the best one, let alone the most humane. As a veterinarian, I’ve learned that we can’t let reason allow us to lose sight of critical empathy.”
Najar studies his lap. “I… have never been… very good with…”
“What?”
He looks up at me, and my heart clenches.
“On my world, if you are born with the warrior’s mark”—Najar points to his cheek—“you are trained as a warrior. We are taught to protect and defend our world, with extreme force when needed.” He looks away. “When dealing with a potential threat, warriors are conditioned from childhood to set aside emotions and prioritize logic and reasoning.”
