Page 10 of Warrior
“No.” Ewok shook his head in an abbreviated jerk.
“The obstruction does not seem too thick,” Daicon said, as his hand slid around rocks and into crevices. “No more than six feet thick. It’s doable if I can get my hands on some tools.”
“You mean to dig?” Ewok blurted.
“Do you know any other way to get through? Daicon challenged, his grin deepening.
“What about the guards?” I mentioned the most pertinent threat. “If they catch you….” My voice trailed off, too disturbed by the thought of Daicon hurt or captured to continue.
The issue did not perturb the big warrior. “They imprisoned me in Gilese mines for twenty years. If anyone knows how to dig and keep out of the way of the guards, it's me.”
“You were a prisoner.” The growl at the end of his question rumbled like distant thunder. Ewok stepped forward aggressively, placing himself between me and Daicon.
“Prisoner of war, little Kerzak.” Daicon's golden eyes twinkled with amusement as he issued a wry grin. “Don’t worry. You and your precious Daisy are safe with me.”
I wasn’t too sure about that. I wasn’t too sure about that at all!
Chapter 4
Daisy
There was something meditative about doing dishes. A small reminder that no matter w strange life on the alien moon, some element of the human condition remained the same. You had to cook, eat… and scrub pots.
Tonight’s concoction wasn’t half bad. It had taken me a while to get used to the alien version of rice. It was three times the size of Earth's version and cooked in half the time. Tonight was the first time I hadn’t scraped scorched pieces from the bottom of the pot. I made a simple stew for dinner—dried meat, alien rice, and some type of tuber vegetable that looked like a white carrot and tasted like corn. I experimented with the spices on hand, and tonight’s dinner tasted like a mixture of chicken pot pie and chili. Maybe not altogether palatable, but edible.
The large stewpot clanged like a bell as I sat it on the table. The bowls were done, as well as the utensils—strange contraptions that looked like a large spoon with three tines at the end—but they worked rather well. Ewok usually helped me with the dishes. Handling the largest pot in the kitchen was a two-man job, so to speak. He’d offered to help tonight, but since I caught him nodding off in his stew bowl, I insisted he go to bed.
A large yawn broke from my lips—Ewok wouldn’t be the only one hitting the sheets early tonight. By the time he, Daicon,and I got back from scoping out the tunnel, it was time to get breakfast together.
Daicon
I pushed away the little flutter in my heart—I was just excited about escaping. That was all.
I hadn’t seen the handsome alien much today. He'd returned to the blocked tunnel after Ewok procured him a set of tools. I saw them together in the early dawn, both exhausted from lack of sleep. Daicon knelt so he and Ewok could talk privately about the escape while the other children roused for the day. Enemies any other time but working together for a common goal. It made my heart happy. The other children regarded Daicon without much excitement. Most thought him just another prisoner sent to work in the mines. We'd kept that ruse intact. No sense in getting the other children's hopes up. Although my own hopes rose when he came to dinner, dust and sweat clinging to his muscles. I knew he'd worked hard toward our escape.
The way my lips quirked upward was aggravating. Why does the thought of Daicon make me smile? Why does my blood seem hotter, and nervous system fine-tuned to anticipate his every word and move? Yes, he’s gorgeous and sexy—extremely gorgeous and sexy. It’s not like I’d never been around a handsome man before. Gavin was very attractive but with a runner's lithe body, not hardened muscle on a nearly seven-foot frame. I’d met a lot of handsome, sexy men in my life, thanks to Gavin’s calling. Some were even as gorgeous and sexy as Daicon as humans went. He wasn’t even really a man—he shouldn’t be having this effect on me. Maybe that strange machine screwed up my hormones when it de-aged me forty years?
“Do you need some help?”
The pot in my hand clattered to the floor, sounding like a gong from those old television game shows.
"Oh my God, you scared me!" My hand slapped my chest, trying to keep my heart from going airborne.
"I'm sorry," Daicon sauntered over to the sink, reaching down to snag the dropped pot enroute. His hair was damp, and the dirt covering him earlier was gone. The freshness of his scent drowned out the remnants of cookery—freshness that reminded me of being in the mountains on a snowy day.
He didn’t hand me the pot, instead swiping a fairly clean cloth from the tabletop and drying away the remnants of the wash. As I watched his ministrations, the plethora of small cuts and bruises dotting his hands and arms didn’t go unnoticed. My fingertips ached in sympathy when I noticed one of his fingernails darkened at the cuticle. These were the hands of a man that worked hard today. For me. For the children.
The hammering of my heart settled into something deeper and steadier. Alien or not, Daicon was a good man. An honorable man. He could have rescued me against my will with his size, but he didn't. Instead, he considered my feelings and wishes—which meant a lot.
“You missed a spot.” He tilted the pot toward me, pointing to a rice crumb against the rim. I snorted and wiped it away with the threadbare brush I used to wash.
“Dinner was excellent.” He didn’t look at me, instead drying the pot as I scrubbed the next. “I don’t recall anything that tasty during my time here.”
The laugh that broke from me was surprisingly happy. “If you think dinner was good, you should see what I can do back on Earth.” I wasn’t the greatest cook, but I wasn’t the worst either. My pound cake and hash brown casserole were favorites at any church dinner.
An awkward silence flashed between us, and Daicon's eyes held a hint of sadness when they touched my face.
Right… I could never go back to Earth.
