“Are you lost again, Child?”
“I came on my own to thank you.”
She floated, tentacles moving over the ground. “I saw you break away from your caretaker, so I went to retrieve you.”
“I’m not a child.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you call me one? And why did you care that Kal and I were separated?”
Her many eyes blinked at different times. “You are a child by my standards, as most people are. I am one of the ancient dwellers of these oceans. As to why I cared, mates should not be separated.”
My mouth fell open. “How could you tell?”
“It’s obvious to my eyes.”
I cast my gaze about, unsure of what to say when a miniature version of Gaptu, but green, came down the stairs at the back of the shop. They clung to Gaptu’s side and watched me. I waved, but it seemed to frighten what I assumed was a child because they pressed closer to Gaptu.
“Tati, no need to be afraid,” Gaptu said. “This is my grandchild.”
“Hi.” I waved.
They slid under Gaptu, disappearing under her tentacles.
“Don’t mind Tati,” Gaptu said. “I watch all my grandchildren, and Tati is the shyest.”
“I get that.” Searching for something else to say, I checked out the shop's wares. I stopped on a gold necklace with a rough-cut purple stone. Kal’s eyes were almost the exact same shade. “How much is this?”
Gaptu rattled off a price I didn’t understand—money and how the currency of the Coalition worked didn’t make sense yet. I took out my touchstone. Kal said I could scan the stone anywhere and that I didn’t need to worry about finances—a first for me. Gaptu held out a tablet, and it pinged. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad noise.
“Did it work?” I asked, tension building in my gut. Thoughts of not having any money, the embarrassment, and being asked to leave floated through my thoughts.
“Yes.” Gaptu took the necklace from me, wrapped it up in a brown piece of paper, and secured it with a green string. “I think your prince will like it.”
“How did you know?” I asked, accepting it.
“I have eyes.”
Looking at the jellyfish-like dome, I said, “Yes, you do.” Gaptu didn’t respond, so I continued, “I should go. Thank you again for helping me.”
Bobbing up and down, they said, “You should hurry. Your prince will come for you.”
“You think?”
A bell-like sound that must be laughter rang in my ears. “Hurry, Little Child, before he loses control.”
I raised my eyebrows in question, but Gaptu waved at me with multiple tentacles. Tucking the package into my pocket near my touchstone, I stepped outside. The air had grown colder in the time I was in the shop. A drop of water landed on my forehead. Iglanced up, but I couldn’t see much through the thick canopy of palms.
Drop after drop fell at increasingly faster rates. People darted through the streets, into shops, and toward the plateaus. I remained wary, still bruised from my encounter with the unfriendly aliens, and continued to the port. I had no idea when another shuttle would come back, but it would probably be the safest place for me.
By the time I reached the port, the rain came down in sheets and the wind howled. I was soaked through, shoes squelching with every step. Shoulders hunched, I examined each of the shuttles but didn’t recognize the markings, so I took a seat on a bench and waited.
No one else was around, and for the first time since I’d been abducted, I was truly alone. The rain reminded me of Washington, my empty apartment, and my even emptier life. An odd, dark emotion curled in my chest like a personal rain cloud—loneliness.
I wanted to scoff. I was angry at Kal for being overbearing, but here I sat, missing him. It was ridiculous.
The crash of the waves, the whistling of the wind, and the fresh scent of rain filled my senses. I took a deep breath, simply existing. I’d often been told I lived too much in my head, not being present in the moment, and right now, I decided to simply be.
