Page 23 of Infala: The Alien's Bond
Darla felt the anger ebbing from her body, slowly replaced by a modicum of hope.
“This means there might be other survivors, right?”
“There might be, yes.”
“So when do we leave?
Heydar smiled wide. “As soon as you join me on the ground.”
With that he scampered down the branches, landing on the soil below with catlike grace.
“Sonofa—fine. Gimme a minute.”
Darla descended much slower than he did, taking her time to make sure she didn’t fall. It seemed her alien companion was testing her.
Or pushing her.
Or maybe both.
It was annoying, no doubt, but unlikely as it was, she also found herself kind of enjoying it in a strange way. He had pushed her outside of her comfort zone and she had excelled.
She hated to admit it, but it feltgood.
As soon as her feet hit the ground Heydar turned his back and started walking.
“Okay, then. I guess we’re heading out,” she grumbled, brushing off her hands and hurrying after him.
They made much better time now that it was full daylight. A decent night’s sleep hadn’t hurt either. Both added up to the pair covering a fair amount of ground at a quick pace. Heydar forged ahead, but it seemed he had been holding back a little more so Darla wouldn’t have to push so hard to keep up.
Was he taking it easy on her? Not by a long shot. But she had earned a bit of respect, and he was treating her less like an annoying human anchor slowing his roll and more like a fellow survivor, even if she was lacking the requisite tattoos. And she was keeping pace, holding her own, no matter how much her legs and lungs were objecting.
Twenty minutes into their walk, Heydar held up his hand, signaling to stop.
“What is it?” Darla whispered.
Heydar slowly raised his hands high, nodding for her to do the same. “We mean no threat,” he said to the foliage.
So much for being a badass fighter, she thought with a chuckle.
Nevertheless, Darla copied him, hands up in the air though they were clearly alone in the woods.
A rustling nearby startled her, but not nearly as much as the appearance of a dozen wiry, primitive hunters with spears in their hands and knives on their belts. That quickly made her reassess that position.
Where the hell did they come from?Darla wondered.
They were a pale green color and shorter than Heydar, though still taller than most humans. They were lean and strong from a life of activity outdoors. They had tunics but most were pulled loose and tucked into their waistbands. As a result, Darla got a good look at their exposed torsos, covered in a latticework of delicate tattoos of a variety of colors.
Where Heydar’s were bolder in design and heavy in pigment, these people opted for a more subtle approach. But one thing seemed the same. Namely, the runes inked into their skin. It appeared this means of tapping into the pigment’s power was universal across species. And that meant the translation runes tattooed behind each of their earsshouldstill work here.
“We mean you no harm,” Heydar repeated. “I am Heydar, of the Nimenni.”
“We recognize as much,” the hunting party leader said, lowering his spear. “I am Adzus. Your people are welcome among the Oraku.” His attention shifted to the design peeping out from Heydar’s torn shirt, but he said nothing of it, instead turning to Darla. “And you? I am not familiar with your race.”
“Human,” she said. “We’re not exactly what you’d call space travelers.”
“The Raxxians took her and several others from her world,” Heydar clarified.
“Raxxians,” Adzus said, spitting with disgust. “We are no friends of the Raxxians.”
