Running her fingers lightly over the baby’s face, Terri’s smile widened as she took in her perfect tiny features. The little spine buds were visible, as were the double black tongues that peeked out from her mouth. Her brow sloped a bit more like Terri’s, giving her features a more delicate, compact look, but she had the perfect horned plating of the Argurma, with little mandibles resting against her cheeks and curling vibrissae that plucked curiously at Terri’s clothes and hands. The lack of plating on her chin and her little human nose made her look all the more precious. Terri laughed in wonder at the glowing blue gaze that stared back at her with equal fascination. A tiny right arm curled up against her chest, the small green jewel-like symbiont winking in the lighting of the medical unit.
Veral nuzzled Terri’s hair with his broad nose and mandibles, his breath stirring the blond strands even as it warmed her skin.
“She is as beautiful as her mother,” he murmured.
Terri laughed and leaned into her mate’s strength. “I don’t know about all that. She looks a lot like her father, I think.”
He fell silent, a soft rumble rising in his throat.
“She… looks like my mother. I do not remember her… not truly, just glimpses that rise through my processors as times. She has fewer scales, and her coloring is unusual for our species, but she does look like her.”
Terri sucked in her bottom lip thoughtfully as she watched his hand cup their daughter’s tiny head and she shifted her face up to her father to give him the same curious, unblinking stare.
“What if we name her after your mother?”
He paused, his eyes turning toward her.
“You would do that? It is the mother’s right to name their offspring,” he stated, his voice hesitant and yet carrying an undeniable longing.
Terri turned her head up and smiled at her mate. “I would be happy to name her after her. You obviously loved her very much.”
He swallowed, his eyes flickering with intense emotion, and leaned in close, brushing his nose against that of their daughter.
“Welcome, my daughter, Harahna’monushava’terri.”
She cocked her head at him. “Was that my name in there?”
He inclined his head. “I loved my mother—I am certain of this—but I love my mate with all of my being. I would be pleased if all our young were honored with your name to distinguish your line. If you were Argurma, they would carry the name of your line. I wish for them to carry you with them in any way they can.”
Terri swallowed back a lump of emotion, her smile turning watery as she cuddled Harahna close.
“It’s a perfect name,” Terri sighed.
23
Terri stretched, enjoying the pull of her tired muscles. Harahna was asleep in the small, padded sleeping structure, just the right size for her, that was tucked beside their bed. The sight tugged at Terri’s heart, a fond smile on her lips. Harahna’s tiny fist was wedged against her mouth as she absently suckled at her knuckles in slumber. Veral stood just to one side of the tiny bed, eyes fastened on their daughter as if he couldn’t get enough of looking at her. Terri understood the feeling. Part of her just couldn’t believe that they had created such a perfect, tiny being.
Veral glanced up at her, eyes warming to a summer-sky blue.
“I thank you for this gift, anastha.” He paused, seeming to consider his words carefully. “Among my people, we give many symbolic gifts. In our histories, they represent the first life that came from the Great Mother Kalithan, she who births and devours all life, to represent each gift offered by her mate Monshar, the lord who shapes life and innovations, from their coupling. All of the gods that were born into the great being of the cosmos are born from their mating to give our world their numerous gifts which sustain us.”
“That’s beautiful,” she said quietly as she drew closer to him. “You’ve never mentioned your gods before. I didn’t know that you believed in anything.”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
“Relics of our past. Most Argurma have forgotten the gods. I am not even certain as to my own views. It is difficult to see the gods acting in the world, and I refused to think much on it, but it is hard to dismiss them when we see the gifts they give. You and Harahna are evidence of them, as much as the presence of the sand dragnar that came to be tamed by the hands of my ancestors were to them.”
Tilting his head, he regarded her as he expelled a soft sigh.
“Our species forgets such things. We see ourselves as advanced, with all our superior technology, and separate from their gifts, though we still hold onto this ritual. The minor households who live deeper in the Great Dunes at the edges of the territories still keep to the old ways. The land there is dangerous, and so it is rare that they leave their households, and rarer still that the council is able to determine anything that pertains to them. It is to their benefit to keep the council from stealing their offspring for processing—something we cannot prevent on our own, not without risking war with the council.”
Terri drew back at his words, heart hammering anxiously.
“I amnotallowing your council to process our daughter!”
He shook his head, amusement flickering in his gaze but behind it a hard, deadly resolve.
“They will not. Just as I will not allow them to experiment on and eventually process you. As soon as it is safe to leave Argurumal’s gravity with Harahna, we will depart. Her inheritance will be secured for her, but we will not remain any longer than necessary.”