as he could expect. Her heels dug as she pulled in the opposite direction.
“Now is not the time to be stubborn. Let me protect you. We’re fighting blind,” he said, more concerned for her than for himself. It was his duty to safeguard her. “Back to a defensive position.”
It was too late. The whistling creatures began to encircle them. The grasses parted enough to give hints of pale colors—pinks, purples, soft blues. Violette jerked her arm free and lifted her hands up into the air. She gave a low series of whistles. The creatures moved around her, causing the grass to spread like current. The stalks became only slightly trampled in their wake.
Since the creatures bypassed Violette, Dev took his cue and lifted his arms like she did. But, instead of running around him like a grassy current, he felt miniature hands grab hold of his pants.
“Ooo,” tiny voices said in unison before breaking off into a chorus of, “You brought us a big one,” and, “Welcome, strangers.”
Round heads emerged from the weeds as the locals climbed his legs, almost fighting each other in their excitement to look at him. Slender arms pulled up narrow bodies. The colors he’d seen were the fuzzy hair on their heads. When they weren’t speaking in the Old Star language he could understand, they were making the whistling noises.
“Big.”
“Stranger, welcome.”
“Big.”
Violette’s laughter rang out over him. He glanced over to her. “Stellar job protecting me, by the way.” She grinned and moved about the grasses, looking down to watch where she stepped. “Told you that you were the worst kidnapper ever.”
“Where are you going?” Dev shook his leg, not wanting to hurt the little aliens, but unsure how to get them to stop licking orange grass seeds off his pant legs. The bizarre show of affection was making him uncomfortable. “Don’t leave me.”
“Aw, look, they like you.” Violette continued moving toward the path. “I think you made friends.”
“So big.” One had crawled to press his face close to Dev’s. Large eyes tried to gaze into his. Tiny fingers held his cheeks. “A welcome stranger.”
“Violette,” Dev said, the word more like an order than a plea. “Help me.”
“No,” she answered.
“Yes, greetings,” Dev muttered, pulling the hands from the sides of his nose, and then from his chin, and this ear, and then fingers from reaching inside his nose. He was too scared to move, afraid he’d accidentally hurt one of them. To Violette, he yelled, “Why aren’t they scared of me?” before adding almost desperately, “Tell them I’m a demon. Tell them I eat souls. Violette, please!”
Being feared would be easier than this.
“I don’t think they care.” Violette made it to the path. “I’d like to point out that I could escape right now.”
Dev tried prying a pair of hands off his chest. Once he released them, another set landed in their place.
“Do you really want my help?” she asked.
“Yes,” he stated without hesitance.
“Then say that I’m the superior adversary.”
“What?” The stimulus of many hands on his body wasn’t something he was used to. They were petting him, caressing him, licking seeds off him and off each other.
“Tell me I’m superior,” she stated again.
“Fine. You’re superior. You bested me. You could escape right now.” Dev was about two seconds away from shaking the creatures off his body by force. “You’re attractive and smart and superior and—”
“Now apologize for drugging me.”
“I apologize,” he answered. “I should have found a better way.”
Violette gave a whistle. The locals stopped pawing at him and turned their attention toward her. “We’re here to help.”
Violette continued to whistle a song as she strode down the path. The little creatures smiled as they climbed off Dev and then ran through the field to follow her. They disappeared beneath the taller stalks only to emerge on the pathway emitting their low whistles. Dev followed slowly, pushing blades of grass so that he didn’t accidentally step on a straggler.
He rubbed his arms, trying to erase the feeling of being pawed. The pastel-headed creatures followed Violette, skipping on narrow legs and swinging slender arms. The strange musical noise they made appeared to squeeze from their lungs with each step, whistling out of the bumps of their noses. They emanated a kind of pure joy he’d never seen.
“Violette,” Dev called after her, wanting to catch up.
“Worst kidnapper ever!” she yelled back, not breaking stride.
Chapter 15
Before today, Violette had only seen pictures of the Murkernal natives in her father’s archives. Part of her lessons had included alien cultures.