Page 71 of Experimental Voyage
Squeakers and her kin did a lot to change perceptions of avian intellect and sentience. Technically, they didn’t classify as true sentients. However, nobody could deny the truth: the birdshad created a society, and they had developed a culture unique to them.
If I did need to return to a world for schooling, Squeakers, Plague, and Pestilence would need to go with me. The death horses disliked when I left them alone for more than a day. Squeakers had learned to sneak into any bag I carried if she wanted to stay with me, which was often.
She currently napped in my purse, a gift from a Crimson Feet female particularly determined to be friends with me. Like Emerald Kissed, she was almost completely red, although she had some variances to her hues. She had six blue feathers, and unfortunately for her, they were isolated, barring her from joining any of the azure clans.
One day, she might gift me with her name, but I simply called her my friend.
The purse had been designed specifically with Squeakers in mind, including a small pouch she could nest in, more pouches for treats, and space enough for the things I needed to carry to keep the Veloc from fretting.
Part of me wanted the festivities to end, as the Crimson Feet kept picking fights with the expectation I would rob them of their baubles. I enjoyed the brawls, as it let me work out the worst of my nerves, but I didn’t need any more damned baubles.
Waldren had escaped being decorated with baubles. At his last grooming, the Veloc had keened and wailed over the situation.
A cut had been in order to restore his scalp’s health, and what remained was too short for baubles. As it was, Waldren would need treatments for three weeks to restore his scalp.
The cause amused me. In my absence, he had begun scratching at his hair, something he’d done as a child when anxious and stressed. My return had calmed his fretting for the most part.
Whenever I caught him raising his hand to give himself a good scratching, I swatted, asked if he actually had an itch, and if he did, took care of offering relief, just as the Veloc had done for me while my ears were healing.
While we waited to enter the amphitheater, Waldren fidgeted, and rather than assault his poor scalp again, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Why must there always be drama?”
“They’re Veloc, Waldren. That’s what they do. They’re so dramatic theybeggedto be able to use Plague and Pestilence for the ceremony. I spent an entire week teaching them how to do a demonstration of their agility, prowess, and beauty. An entire week of my life, gone!”
As Waldren had enjoyed the week as much as I had, he snorted at my commentary. “They would have used Squeakers, too, but she kept taking naps and ruining their plans, which is why she’s riding in your purse. They stole Palta!”
“Palta loves riding Pestilence, Waldren. You’d break her heart if you kept her in the crowd when she could be showcasing her majesty.”
“Why are we doing this? We knew weeks ago which clan is getting you. There are no surprises here. Hell, the other clans have been tossing us presents because they’re pleased with the outcome. They aren’t even trying to convince you to join them. They’re just relieved Emerald Kissed has a nest again and that their elite feathered murder machines aren’t wandering Veloci Major keening over the situation. There isn’t going to be a surprise with Delta’s adoption, either. He’s going to be picking one of the azure clans because of how closely knit they are with the rest of Veloc society. Honestly, I think he’ll be adopted by all the azure clans, because they’ve been distressed by what happened to Emerald Kissed—and to your friend.”
I nodded. “I understand why they go by the color of their feathers, but that’s nothing a little dye can’t fix as needed. Bleachthe feathers, dye them the color of their clan, and it’s fine. I’ll be reminding them bleach and dye are real things they can use at their leisure. If Emerald Kissed hadn’t melded well with that pair from the Emerald Crests, I would have started bashing heads together until she was in a suitable nest for her.”
“The Crimson Feet adore you for that, by the way. You gave them what they needed the most: a good future for their little hatchling.”
“I’m still questioning where they got the money for that damned racer and all your upgrades,” I muttered.
“The Veloc are stupidly rich, and the Crimson Feet are richer than most Veloc clans. They are adventurous for Veloc, and they’ve uncovered numerous shiftgem gates over the years—and they protect those gates viciously. They also have high numbers, and all of them are elite feathered murder machines. And the Crimson Hands and Crimson Tails are just as vicious. Between their numbers, drive to end trafficking of sentience, and drive to roam even in space, they have accumulated great wealth.” Waldren shrugged. “I’m pretty sure your death horses are going to be battling Veloc so the Veloc can win the right to claim you as their adoptee. It’ll be rigged in favor of the Crimson Feet, but if the Veloc do not get their drama, we’ll hear about it for years to come.”
“I hate that you’re probably right.” I sighed, well aware that my death horses would enjoy beating the snot out of Veloc, especially Plague. Pregnancy hormones had transformed the mare into a demonic entity capable of destroying worlds, and if she was not pleased by something, she let everyone know about it. I escaped her temper, as did Waldren, Pestilence, Palta, and Squeakers, but every other living creature was fair game.
I hoped there were no literal deaths by the end of the day. The last thing any of us needed was listening to an entire planet of Veloc keening.
“It’ll be fine. Once you’re adopted, they’re going to move to phase two of their plans, which involves you establishing a nest. That’s what Veloc do. After they secure their pethomo sapiens, they marry them off. These ceremonies are fun and games for them. Marriage ceremonies? Now that is what Veloc live for. And as Delta and Viva already had their ceremony, you’re next.”
I wouldn’t be next if the target of my romance kept insisting on resisting my advances. “If they think I’m next, I have news for you, Waldren.You’renext.”
“I am not the spunky woman who decided attacking Veloc and robbing them was a good idea. As you’ve charmed the entire species with your daring,you’renext.”
“No, you’re the poor, sad, and lonely little male who has been in need ofhealingbecause some evil Veloc whisked away your sister, capturing her in marriage.” Waldren’s sister, who would be somewhere in the amphitheater with her husband and the Emerald Crests, would spend the rest of the day laughing at her brother upon finding out about our argument. “The poor, sad, and lonely little males must be dealt with first, for they whine and stress their clan into unscheduled molting.You’renext.”
My friend, who had given herself the job of making certain we made it to the ceremony, approached, her head tilted to the side with her crest raised. “Are you two literally arguing over which one of you is going to romance the other first?”
“He’s next because I have a head start on him,” I informed her in a solemn tone. “As such, he’s the one who is going down first.”
“I do not think that is how romance works, Camellia.”
“It does when the poor, sad, and lonely little male in question is stubborn, grumpy, dense, and hasn’t figured out when to stop running,” I complained.
My friend regarded Waldren, and she flattened her crest. “You can continue to be stubborn and grumpy, but you reallyneed to fix the dense and prone to running portions of this. You exhaust your female, you exhaust us, and you exhaust your clan. Get caught already. If you get caught, we will be forced to fling presents upon you. I am confident we can secure a second racer so that you can compete with your female. We can even help acquire proper stalls so you can take turns hauling your racers when you aren’t taking both of them.” She leaned closer to Waldren, displayed her teeth, and issued a warning growl. “And should you run, know you cannot hide, because we—and I meanwe—will hunt you down and drag you back to your new nest kicking and screaming if we must.”
