Tabitha Chirrick - Overshadowed

She took a breath, reaching halfway behind Shy’s head. “Do you mind?”

“Go for it,” Shy said.

Tayel reached the rest of the way and slid her left hand under Shy’s braid, cupping her palm around the back of her neck. She squeezed lightly, keeping Shy’s head steady while she pulled the tab on the canister and pressed the cap. Green gel oozed out of the plastic tube and into the cut. The gel foamed up on contact, making a seal.

The sensation of relief building in her chest was overwhelming. Shy’s gaze shifted to her arm. Tayel’s breath hitched. She drew her hand back, and the cold rushed in, leaving her fingers in pins and needles.

Shy caught her arm. “Actually, I’m going to need your help.”

“Time to go?” Fehn asked.

“Yes. Gear up first.” Shy lifted herself halfway out of the chair. “Tayel, can you crouch down?”

Tayel did, letting Shy’s arm fall over her shoulders before lifting to a stand.

Shy hissed. “This will be a lot easier if you…” Her fingers closed around Tayel’s wrist and pulled it to her side. “Tayel?”

“Right. Sorry.” She spread her fingers over Shy’s waist and pulled her close.

“Do you need me to carry you instead?” Fehn asked.

“Please,” Shy said. “No one is going to carry me.”

“Suit yourself. And watch your step.”

Jace led the way ahead of them all, keeping himself steady with his free talon. Tayel followed after him and Fehn, hoping to whichever deity would listen that Shy couldn’t feel how fast her pulse was racing. The timing couldn’t have been worse, but Tayel couldn’t help it. The proximity to Shy was maddening.

How many times had Tayel helped a fellow magball player off the field like this? Many times. A million times. But Shy felt different. Tayel couldn’t have been more nervous, and yet despite being pressed together in a shared walk through the corridor, she wasn’t close enough.

The ground shuddered under her feet, drawing her attention back to where it needed to be.

The hold was a mess with the contents of the armory crate spilled across the floor. Shields, arms, and ammo caches glinted in the soft light pouring in through the viewports. Her mag baton rested near the hall to the bedrooms, and when Shy crouched down to slowly gather her own things, Tayel fetched it, testing its weight in her tired arms.

She looked around while everyone else dallied through the hold. Buildings surrounded the ship outside, dome-shaped roofs and stout structures visible through the viewports.

She pointed at them. “Guys, I think we landed inside the outpost.”

“Looks like it,” Fehn said. “That will make finding safety easier.”

Jace offered his talon to Shy as she lifted herself off the ground.

“I’m okay,” she said. “The dizziness is wearing off.”

“Shy,” Tayel warned.

“Seriously. I needed a few minutes to walk around, is all.” She moved slowly to the door and stood on her tiptoes to look through the viewport. “Not confident I can fight right now, though.”

“What do you mean?” Fehn asked.

“There are people coming.”

Tayel squeezed her baton. “Raiders?”

“Looks like Varg,” Shy said.

“Are Varg friendly?” Fehn asked.

“We’ll find out. Everyone ready?”

“Here. Let me.” He stepped past her and tugged the door open.

The resulting draft of icy air hit Tayel like a wall. She hobbled toward the open door, following Jace as he dropped down into the snow after Shy and Fehn. Tayel landed in the white abyss beside him, grimacing at the powder running all the way up to her knees. Her exposed skin burned, turning bright red, and she doubled over, a shivering fit tightening every muscle in her body.

Out here, the sounds of the fight along Kalanie Outposts’ city wall rang loud and clear. Shouts, barks, cries, and screams rose a haunting cacophony off the desolate buildings.

“T-they d-don’t l-l-look friendly,” Jace stuttered.

The group of Varg Shy had spotted ran toward them, archaic bows and lances aimed and primed in their paws. A human figure, wrapped head to toe in snow gear, staggered behind them, concealed from view as the massive Varg closed in.

“Don’t make any sudden movements,” Shy said.

Tayel wasn’t going to move at all. Not suddenly. Not slowly. The three wolf-like creatures easily stood seven feet tall, and with their snouts covered in retro-fitted gas masks, they made an intimidating appearance. She swallowed as the group stopped several yards away.

The human figure who brought up the rear of the Varg’s procession limped between the three of them to stand in front, the cane in his grip barely supporting his Axol-like, unwieldly gait. He pulled the scarf off his mouth and nose.

“Shy?” he called.

Tayel gaped.

“Locke?” Shy half-grinned, then winced. She touched the foam seal against her cheek. “Locke, it’s me.”

“Stand down,” the man ordered, and the Varg lowered their weapons.

Shy stumbled toward him, and he limped forward. He dropped his cane in the snow and embraced her, squeezing her so hard her clothes crinkled and pinched against his arms. Tayel smiled, but it dissipated as an explosion from the city wall far to the left rocked the ground.

“Hurry! We need to get you all inside!” Locke yelled at the Varg behind him, “Take them in!”

The three Varg bolted forward. Tayel didn’t have the time to gasp before one grabbed her around the middle and hoisted her over his shoulder. He bounded away from the ship, and she bounced against his boney frame, grimacing at the jolts of pain through her sides, where her harness had already left bruises. His tail flowed elegantly behind him, and his feet left human head-sized paw prints in the snow.

A wave of warmth washed over her as they made it inside, and he set her down.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

An overhead vent breathed hot air into the cave-like entrance. Her cheeks flushed as the door closed behind them all, sealing out the cold.

Locke pulled back his hood, revealing hair as long and black as Shy’s. He nodded to the group of Varg who’d brought them all inside. “Tell the ration pack we have four new guests — one of them Argel.”

The largest Varg nodded and led the way into the tunnel. The others bounded after him. Their footsteps echoed through the stretching path long after they’d vanished from view.

“When the war pack told me a ship flew into battle flying Sinos markings, I didn’t believe them.” Locke sighed. “Why are you here, little sister?”

Shy lunged forward and slapped him. The sharp crack echoed off the walls. Tayel’s jaw dropped. She met eyes with Fehn, who shrugged almost like he’d been expecting it. Jace edged backward toward the wall.

“You ass !” Shy shouted. “ How dare you leave me with our psychopath of a father with everything that’s going on? I’m here because I needed to find you, to help you, to bring you back to where you belong!”

“Easy, Shy.” Locke lifted his chin, but did not reach for the red mark left on his cheek. “I was trying to keep you safe. Father would never lay a hand on you, especially if you had kept quiet and out of trouble like I asked. Though I suppose expecting you to sit still was a mistake. As to where I belong, that is a much longer conversation than I’m willing to have in front of strangers.” He narrowed his eyes at Fehn. “Or even unlikely yet familiar faces.”

“Upset your people’s dirty secret didn’t go hide under a rock?” Fehn asked.

“Quite happy you didn’t, actually,” he said cheerfully. “Saves me having to dig you up. Fehn, right? If I recall correctly.”

“…Right.”

“What was father trying to do to him?” Shy asked.