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    Twas the Night Before No-Poison Day


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      TWAS THE NIGHT

      BEFORE NO-POISON DAY

      AN ICEHOME HOLIDAY SHORT

      RUBY DIXON

      TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE

      NO-POISON DAY

      LAUREN

      Christmas fever has hit the Icehome camp, hard.

      It all started when Raven - darn Raven - made a musical

      instrument of shells and broken bits of metal that sounded a bit

      like sleigh bells. It immediately made her launch into ‘Jingle

      Bell Rock’ and she sang it all day long. Normally I don’t mind

      Raven’s singing, but this particular song caught the attention of

      the kids.

      “Is it No-Poison time, Mommy?” Ever-quiet Rukhar had

      asked his mother by the fire that night.

      Both Aayla and Raashel lit up. “No-Poison! No-Poison!!”

      “I would enjoy a few games of foots-and-ball,” Sessah

      added, his expression boyish and hopeful.

      Liz shrugged and looked at Harlow, who also shrugged. “It

      IS the brutal season. Might not be a bad idea.”

      “What is No-Poison?” O’jek asked, curious. “I have not

      heard of this.”

      That started things.

      It’s been a week now since that conversation, and the

      entire camp is in full swing. The holiday fever has hit

      everyone and plans have been changed on a daily basis. Were

      you supposed to go hunting today? You can’t, because you

      have to make No-Poison gifts for your mate. Gonna take a trip

      to the fruit cave for a few days? No, you’re not, because No-

      Poison’s about to be here and everyone is excited for the cele-

      bration.

      Well, except me. I’m a little cranky because I’m the one that

      was supposed to go to the fruit cave with K’thar. Just a week or

      so to warm up and eat delicious, juicy fruits, and then we’d

      come back. Except now that No-Poison is hitting soon, that

      plan’s been temporarily shelved. K’thar’s as excited as everyone

      else about No-Poison, so it’s not like I can complain.

      The fruit cave will always be there.

      Maybe I wouldn’t be so grumpy about it if I had an idea of

      what to give my mate for his gift. K’thar’s been hard at work on

      mine, hiding things in our tent and casting furtive looks in my

      direction from time to time. He’s full of secret smiles, and each

      one fills me with joy…and a bit of despair because I don’t know

      what to get him. I’ve never been good at giving gifts. I was the

      first one to hand out gift cards on a holiday, and now I don’t

      even have that option. It’s not that I don’t like holidays; I do. I

      just love warmth and fruit more right now. It might be the preg-

      nancy hormones talking, but I can’t think of a single thing to

      get K’thar that would be special. I’d have to make something,

      but my skills are not that great. I’m good with people, not a

      needle, so I’ve thought and thought and thought…and I’ve got

      nothing.

      This morning, though, it’s No-Poison Eve (is that a thing? I

      guess it is) and so I’m using those people skills to try and steal

      ideas. That’s right, I’m desperate. I lurk around the fire, waiting

      for someone who looks as if they’re working on something, and

      pounce.

      Maybe I have an unhinged look in my eyes, or maybe no

      one wants to talk to a hormonal pregnant lady first thing in the

      morning, but everyone blows me off.

      “Me and Flor are going to go shrimping,” Sam says when I

      approach them.

      “I’m just coming out to grab a cup of tea before I get back to

      sewing,” Bridget says, and makes a hasty exit.

      “Z’hren has diarrhea,” Gail says as she passes through camp

      with her son, heading toward Veronica’s tent.

      Okay, so that one kinda scared me off, but no one lingers to

      chitchat. I give up on the fire and head down to the beach,

      where I see a few people walking. Devi’s there with N’dek,

      doing their usual rounds of critter-cutting, but I don’t

      approach. They’re not doing anything holiday-ish from the

      look of it, and I’m not sure my early-morning pregnancy

      stomach can handle an impromptu dissection. A bit further

      down the beach, I spot Gren. He’s scanning the shores, little

      Aayla holding his hand tightly and Raashel walking in front of

      them.

      Is he babysitting? Present making? Either way, he’s my next

      target.

      “Hey there!”I call out brightly. “What are you guys up to?”

      Gren gives me an odd look. Aayla just clutches his hand and

      Raashel wrinkles her nose at me. “Why are you talking so

      loud?”

      “Am I?” Shit. I try to be less anxious and crazy-eyed and

      more chill. “You guys working on No-Poison gifts?”

      “No, because Santa brings those,” Raashel tells me, scoffing

      with all the confidence of a pint-sized Liz.

      “Right. I forgot. So what are you guys up to?”

      “Mama is hanging out with Harlow and Hannah and

      Veronica, and Gren says Willa’s tummy doesn’t feel good, so

      we’re looking for the island nuts to see if any of those floated

      up.”

      Island nuts? The ones with the peanut butter-type stuff

      inside them? We haven’t seen one in weeks, but I don’t point

      that out. An island nut would be an awesome gift for K’thar,

      who sometimes comments on how different the food is here.

      It’d be a taste of home for him. “Any luck?”

      Gren shrugs those big, furry shoulders and lets Aayla tug

      him further down the beach. “Fishies!” the little one cries,

      pointing at the waves.

      “Willa doesn’t want a fish, does she, Gren?” Raashel calls

      after them, following behind.

      The big guy patiently offers Raashel his other hand and

      leads them down the beach. I don’t hear his answer, just the

      sound of Aayla crying “Fishies!” over and over again, and

      pointing at everything she sees.

      Okay, it’s clear that they’re hunting for those nuts for Willa’s

      gift…either that, or he’s just babysitting. But the nuts are a good

      idea. I head up and down the shore, watching the waves

      intently, and telling myself that if I see a cluster of them, I’ll

      share with Gren and the others. I just want one good one for

      my K’thar. I imagine his bright, delighted smile, and how he’ll

      share with Kki, who shivers and huddles against his neck at all

      times, practically a permanent fixture under his hair. The

      nightflyer doesn’t like the cold much and has turned into a

      mega-snuggler.

      Which is nice…unless you’re trying to get intimate with

      your mate.

      I walk up and down the beach twice before I give up on the

      island nuts idea. If there are any to be found, they’re not

      making their presence known this morning. I need a new idea.

      I pass by a group of the men - Sh
    adowed Cat, Strong Arm and

      the clones - listening intently to Taushen as he explains the

      rules to a bastardized version of football. Or soccer. Or some-

      thing. It sounds like it involves hitting or crashing horns, which

      makes the men grin with enthusiasm. I pass by the rows of

      wooden huts that are tucked along the cliff, and at the far end, I

      see Bek hard at work on the hut he’s making for Elly. She sits

      nearby, bundled up in furs, her eyes full of pleasure as her mate

      settles the pieces of wood together for the floor. Vaza helps —

      well, sort of. Mostly he’s standing nearby and telling stories

      while Bek does all the work, but they all seem happy enough.

      Seeing Vaza with them reminds me that Gail went to Veronica’s

      tent.

      And Gren said that Liz is with Harlow and Hannah? Hmm.

      That sounds like a gift-making group to me. Hopeful, I head in

      that direction.

      I hear the laughter coming out of Veronica’s oversized tent

      before I even get to the doorway. “He fainted at the sight of his

      own blood,” I can hear Brooke saying. “And poor Kate had to

      carry him off the glacier!”

      Howls of laughter meet this pronouncement.

      I scratch at the hanging leather ‘door’. “Knock knock, can I

      come in?”

      Liz appears in the doorway, glancing around, and then pulls

      me inside like it’s top secret spy stuff. “Don’t let the girls see

      you. Gren’s keeping them busy.”

      The anterior room in Veronica’s tent is normally reserved

      for people coming to visit the healer. Most days, it’s neatly orga-

      nized with baskets full of herbs and roots, and there’s a ‘bed’ for

      patients. Today, though, the place is a mess. Liz, Harlow, Brooke

      and Willa sit with Veronica, Gail and Hannah. There are piles

      of things in front of each of them, and as I watch, Liz returns to

      her seat, skewers a few small pieces of dried fruit on a small

      stick, and passes it to Harlow, who wraps it in leather and adds

      it to the stack of bundles at her side.

      “What are you guys doing?” I ask, sinking down to sit next

      to Hannah.

      “Christmas presents,” Veronica whispers. “Rukhar and the

      girls are supposed to be surprised.”

      “Along with half the camp,” Gail adds, rocking an oversized

      Z’hren as he sleeps in her arms. She pats the baby on his back.

      “Luckily this one is young enough that he can sit here with me

      and still be surprised tomorrow morning.”

      “It’s my fault,” Hannah admits, adding dried leaves to pouch

      after pouch for what’s probably a tea blend. “I was watching the

      kits with J’shel and telling all of them about Christmas stock-

      ings and how Santa would fill them, and the next thing I knew,

      there was a boot outside our hut.” She grimaces. “I didn’t have

      the heart to tell him Santa wasn’t real. I’m pretty sure he knows,

      but now he thinks it’s our custom to fill shoes with presents and

      the kits think that, too, so here we are.” She gestures at the

      spread. “Making gifts for everyone’s stockings.”

      “Boots,” Brooke corrects, chuckling. “Every hut I’ve passed

      has a boot outside it now, so word has spread. So we’re making

      a little something for everyone so no one is disappointed.”

      “Thanks, loudmouth,” Liz says sarcastically to Hannah.

      “Oh,” I say as Veronica strings bits of shell onto a bracelet.

      She stabs herself with the needle, grimaces, and then looks up

      to see if anyone noticed. “We’ve had a boot at our doorstep, too,

      but I thought K’thar was just airing them out.”

      “Nope,” Liz says. “They’re waiting for presents.”

      “Is there something I can help with?”

      “I think we’ve got it?” Harlow says, gesturing at the group.

      “We’ve got dried fruit skewers going, the hraku-seed cookies are

      made, the tea bags are almost done, and there’s just the

      bracelets for the girls left.”

      “Coming along great,” Veronica promises, and promptly

      stabs her finger again.

      I study the others, thinking. “What are you getting your

      mates? For the holiday? I need ideas for K’thar.”

      Liz shrugs. “Harlow, Gail and I are switching off with Angie

      on babysitting. We’re all going to take a different day and just

      have a day of peace and quiet with the occasional interruption

      for breast-feeding. I’m not sure if that’s helpful.”

      It’s not. I’m pregnant, but Liz and Harlow both have

      multiple children. A day ‘off’ is probably more exciting to them

      than it is to me. K’thar would just be bored. “You, Brooke?”

      She grins wickedly. “I’ve been playing with hair colors and

      I’m going to dye one of Taushen’s braids. He loves my pink hair,

      especially now that I’ve re-pinked it.” She fluffs her locks, and

      while they’re not the same shade of pink as before, it’s pretty

      close. She also smelled like the worst sort of dead fish for two

      days after thanks to the dye, so I’m not sure that’s something

      K’thar would be interested in, either.

      “Veronica?”

      She just blushes. “Um. Stuff. Private dragon stuff.”

      “Buttsex,” Hannah whispers loudly.

      Everyone erupts into laughter again, and Veronica turns

      redder. Z’hren jerks in his sleep, then settles back against his

      mother.

      “Did you talk to my mate?” Gail teases. “Because he’s been

      suggesting all kinds of nasty things to me for his gift. I told him

      we do that shit on the regular, so there’s no need to wait for a

      holiday.”

      Annnnd now I’ve learned too much. Though their tent is

      pretty close to ours, so it’s not really a surprise. More of a just

      ‘so that’s what that noise is’ answer to a question I never, ever

      asked. “Uh, Hannah?”

      She smiles sweetly. “I’ve been working on new gloves for

      J’shel in secret for a few weeks now. Callie showed me how to

      do a few decorative stitches and I even made a matching hair

      tie for his braid.”

      “That sounds awesome.” Hannah’s so thoughtful. She’s

      been preparing for weeks? I feel like the worst mate in the

      entire tribe. I know K’thar could probably use some new gloves,

      but he’s got four arms. I literally don’t even have time to make

      two decent gloves, much less four. And he doesn’t have a

      magnificent braid quite like J’shel does.

      This is so not helpful.

      “What about you?” Harlow asks me. “What are you giving

      K’thar?”

      “That’s just it. I have no idea.” I try not to whine. Try, and

      probably fail. “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

      “You will,” Veronica says confidently.

      “And if you don’t, everyone’s going to get their boot filled by

      Santa,” Hannah says. “So no one’s left out.”

      I smile at her, but I don’t feel better. A boot gift is for every-

      one. I need to do something that’s just for K’thar. Just from me.

      And I have no flipping clue as to what.

      I hang out with them for a little lon
    ger, but when it’s clear I’m

      just in the way and distracting them from their assembly line, I

      take off. I look around the camp for Mari, but I don’t see her

      anywhere. My shy, sweet friend will know what I should give

      him, I think. Mari’s thoughtful. She always wants to help every-

      one, and I desperately need help. Another brain to pick is

      always useful, and I just like talking to Mari.

      Okay, so I like whining to her. And I feel like whining right

      now. I never thought I’d feel so inadequate over gift giving, but

      here I am.

      Mari’s not in the tech cave, though. She’s not in the tent she

      shares with T’chai — the one with two beds because they’re

      having trouble figuring things out. She’s not walking on the

      beach. It takes me a while to find her, but when I do, I find both

      Mari and Sessah sitting together at the far end of the cliffs. Her

      hand is on the lanky man’s shoulder and she gives him a

      sympathetic pat as I approach.

      It takes them a moment to notice me. My boots crunch on

      the sand, and Sessah’s head jerks up. He turns, a look of hope

      on his face, and it dies the moment he realizes it’s me. As I

      watch, his shoulders slump in defeat once more, and Mari bites

      her lip.

      Uh oh. “Is this a bad time?” I hesitate. “I can go.”

      Sessah gets to his feet, a furry bundle in his arms. “I am

      leaving. Perhaps I will see if they need another for the foot-on-

      balls game.”

      Mari winces but says nothing as he leaves, and as I pass by

      him, he seems…utterly dejected. Less full of energy than usual.

      Sessah’s the youngest of all the warriors here, an adult, but

      without the years of experience and life some of the others

      have under their belts, which makes him seem that much

      younger sometimes. Like…right now. He looks like a kicked

      puppy.

      I sit down next to Mari and watch as Sessah leaves. He

      doesn’t head for the ball game, but instead heads to his tent and

      disappears inside. “What’s that all about?” I ask her.

      Mari gives a little sigh. “Heartbreak.”

      “Uh oh. What’d I miss?”

      Her eyes are kind and full of understanding. “Just a little

      Christmas snag. Sessah’s spent days and days making Tia a

      cloak out of some really nice furs he’s been holding for her.”

      That must have been the bundle in his arms. A cloak.

      Hmm. I wonder if I can make one for K’thar.

     


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