Lost with her Alien Mate

Warriors of the D’tali: Book Six

Ava York

Starr Huntress

Contents

Janis

Nadan

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Epilogue: Nadan

Are you a STARR HUNTRESS?

Rekker

Kazan

Rogue Mate

Janis

The wind whipped my hair back, the ship’s engines growling furiously as they battled against gravity. I stood at the edge of the massive crater, surrounded by D’Tali and humans alike, and wrapped my cloak tighter against my body. It did little to protect me from the wind, but at least it offered some comfort.

The hulking shape of the Navigator, as it had been christened, let out a metallic groan as the thrusters finally engaged, spewing blue flames against the hard-packed soil. A cloud of dust exploded from beneath the ship and, as if on cue, everyone stepped back. Some, like me, even raised their arms to shield their eyes from the debris.

“It’s working,” King Dojak muttered beside me, his eyes widening as he watched the action unfold. He stood tall, his posture regal, but even he couldn’t stop wonder and fascination from taking over his face. “It’s actually working.”

I felt short of breath, my heart tightening inside my chest as I looked back at the ship. Slowly, but steadily, it pushed off the ground, like a sleeping giant someone had just poked with a stick. It was hard to believe this behemoth had come here all the way from Earth. There was a metallic sound and the ship shuddered. The Navigator began to ascend. First, just a couple of feet, then yards at a time.

I allowed myself a sliver of hope.

If this worked, there was a chance I could return to Earth. I could see my adoptive family again, maybe even return to the life I had worked so hard for—before the Skarg had abducted us. Maybe I’d even be able to forget about all this. As kind as the D’Tali had been to us, I needed to get back to Earth. Some of the women had already started to see this planet as their home, but not I.

“Oh, God,” I breathed out, my knees threatening to buckle under my weight.

The ship stopped its steady march into the heights, and I could tell the thrusters were working at their full capacity. What if the ship didn’t fly? What if this was all for naught? Would I remain trapped here on this planet forever?

Hope welled up inside me once more, as a metallic groan rippled through the air when the ship started ascending again. It labored higher and higher, casting its enormous shadow over the gathered crowd. I held my breath and prayed silently to whatever gods ruled this side of the galaxy.

“Please, please,” I muttered under my breath, repeating that word over and over again, like a mantra. More than anyone here, I wanted this to work. I needed for the ship to be fully functional. I had kept the thought to myself that since we arrived here, I only wished for one thing… to leave.

I had never been what most would consider a well-adjusted girl, but I had built a normal life back on Earth. My adoptive family had accepted me, and my career had provided meaning. After a miserable childhood, I had scraped together a promising future.

Fate, though, threw a wicked curveball.

Over a year had passed since that fateful night, but I could still recall each moment as vividly as if it were happening now. A bright light outside my window, a feeling of nausea, and my consciousness dwindling until all I could experience was dark. Then, when I awoke, everything had changed.

My old life was no more.

Even though I had never believed that aliens were a thing, that night I woke up in the cargo hold of a spaceship, trapped inside something like a cattle pen. I had gone from being a normal girl to a piece of meat trafficked by aliens. Thankfully, fate must’ve taken pity on me: instead of reaching its destination, the traffickers’ ship was ambushed and crash-landed on this planet. Even though I didn’t like it here like most of the other women, the D’Tali’s generosity and kindness had made life more tolerable.

I felt petty for resenting the women who had adjusted to life here. How could they accept it so easily? They busied themselves with dating the D’Tali instead of planning a way out, their complacence driving me insane.

It wasn’t their fault, of course. But I couldn’t help waking every night drenched in sweat, the memories of my abduction returning in the shape of haunting nightmares.

Somehow, though, no one had noticed just how close I was to my breaking point.

As hope began to solidify, one of the ship’s thrusters misfired.

Blue flames turned inward and bent the metal. A collective gasp ran through the crowd. There was a furious hiss from the Navigator. My eardrums popped as a metallic thunderclap rang throughout the landscape.

The ship banked left, losing altitude. The engines worked double-time, judging by their tempestuous roar.

It wasn’t enough.

“Step back everyone,” King Dojak cried out, the deep bass of his voice reverberating through my chest.

His security escort leaped into action and pushed the crowd further back, trying to create a safe perimeter. A wave of nausea crashed through me: the ship was going to crash.

“No, please, no.” My knees finally gave in, hitting the ground with a painful thud. I didn’t even register the pain. My heart became so tight it almost burst. It felt like a heavy boulder sunk in my stomach.

Kneeling, I watched as the Navigator pushed away from the crater, its original resting place. Whoever was piloting was trying not to flatten the entire crowd if the worst happened. I heard the crackle and static of comm devices going off all around me, but I was so dazed I couldn’t register what was being said.

My hopes were pulverized as the Navigator touched the ground. It wasn’t a disaster, as the pilots managed to right the ship before the hull touched the soil, but I could still see metal sheets flying everywhere. The earth trembled under my feet seconds after the impact.

I brought my arm up, realizing I was crying. I used the sleeves of my ragged shirt to dab the tears away. It was useless. It’s not that I was sad—it was something that cut way deeper. It felt as if my insides had been scooped up and flung out, leaving nothing but hollowness and desperation behind. I would never return to Earth. I would never see my family again. I would never be happy again.

The last thing I remembered was a falling sensation. That, and the emptiness of the skies overhead, their strange colors a reminder I didn’t belong here.

This wasn’t home.

Nadan

“Get back!”

King Dojak ushered the crowd of humans and D’Tali backwards, pushing us all away from the horrifying sight on the horizon—the Navigator smoking and twisted, crashed. There was pandemonium. Some of the D’Tali children wept from the loud noise—one babe had gotten lost in the scuffle and was desperately searching for his mother. Ordinarily, I would have been the first to scoop him up and return him, but not today.

All around me, humans and D’Tali coursed backwards, pushing against each other to make sure they were at a safe distance should the Navigator burn. Meanwhile, Amber, Riley, and Isabella, the three human women leading the effort to get the Navigator up and running, bolted toward the smoldering ship. They were followed by their team of D’Tali engineers. I thought about making myself useful. The small D’Tali child behind me stopped wailing as someone ushered him to his mother. Throughout this chaos, I could only stand still.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Janis swayed the minute the Navigator had begun to descend and we all realized something was wrong. The moment the Navigator crash-landed, she crumpled like an autumn leaf.

I had to get to her.

When the human women first landed in the D’Tali kingdom and I laid eyes on Janis, something ignited inside me. I tried to shake off the feeling, assuming it was just a natural curiosity for a creature that looked and behaved so differently, but as the days wore on and more of the human women began to mix with the D’Tali and the Lukadians, I started to suspect something else was going on.

Janis always seemed distant, apart. She reminded me of the traumatized numas I worked with in King Dojak’s stable. He always laughed and bragged about my work, telling anyone who would listen that I could rehabilitate any numa, no matter how misbehaved. I was always quick to follow up that numas didn’t “misbehave”—they protected themselves from dangers that we just couldn’t see.

I’d suspected that what was happening inside of me for Janis wasn’t simple curiosity when I noticed her continuously putting distance between herself and the other women. Once, weeks ago, a large D’Tali had put down a plate of food with a jovial clang near Janis, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She bolted from the table and, unable to stop myself, I followed her. I found her moments later huddled over a barrel of water, shaking from head to toe, taking in deep, steadying, calming breaths.

That night, I’d hung back in the shadows, positive that had I made myself known, I would have sent her spiraling down into an even darker fear. Instead, I watched from a distance as she dipped her hands in the water barrel and washed her face clean, calming herself enough to eventually rejoin the others at the table. I stayed out, trying to parse through the confusing feelings. Why had she captured my attention like this? It was stronger than just curiosity. The sight of her shaking made me explode in pain. I found my own limbs quivering, too.

And now, seeing her unconscious body twisted under her cloak made me want to howl in misery.

I had avoided approaching her for so long, though whenever she was near, I couldn’t help but stare at her. I was positive I had memorized every detail of her face. The freckles across the bridge of her nose, the dusty hazel of her eyes, and her warm auburn hair cascading around her face, brushing the tips of her delicate shoulders. Over the weeks I had noticed her eyes developing a slightly bruised look—as if the very act of drinking in the visual stimulus of the D’Tali kingdom was making her sick.

Wait, I had told myself that night at the water barrel. Wait, I had said as I watched her separate herself from the rest of the human women. Wait, just wait. She won’t trust you if you push.

The Navigator crashed, and all my cautious reasoning crashed with it.

“Move,” I barked with frustration as I pushed against the D’Tali guards shepherding the crowd back through the main gates. No one seemed to have noticed Janis collapsing. Was I the only one who’d seen her fall?

I finally broke free of the crushing, worried bodies and crossed the empty distance between the throng to where Janis lay unconscious on the ground. I became suddenly aware of how fast my heart was beating against my rib cage. I had never been this close to her.

“Janis,” I murmured softly, kneeling next to her.

She was unresponsive.

My heart slammed against my chest, quickening its pace even more. This wasn’t good—I needed to get her to someone who could help revive her.

I put my hand on her cloaked shoulder and rolled her over gently so she faced me. Seeing her face so close took my breath away. Even unconscious, she appeared to be in pain.

“Janis,” I whispered. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins. Enough was enough—she obviously wasn’t going to wake. I needed to jump into action.

Moving carefully so I didn’t jostle her, I scooped my hands underneath her frail body and lifted her up easily into my arms. Her head lolled onto my shoulder, fitting perfectly against the crook of my neck. As I hoisted her into a more comfortable position, her hand brushed briefly against my cheek.

It was as if my whole body suddenly awoke.

The world around me felt sharper, more alive, like the volume and color saturation had been turned up. I gasped and almost dropped Janis in shock. My body had reacted so dramatically to just the gentlest of her touches.

Was this the bond?

I’d suspected Janis and I were fated, but up until now had had no way of truly knowing. And yet, I still wasn’t positive—the sun’s unrelenting rays made it hard for me to examine my skin. My fluorescent bond sign should have flared at Janis’s touch, but I couldn’t quite discern it in the sunlight.

All I knew was Janis was in pain and it caused me pain. Fighting back panic, I looked up and scanned the horizon. There were teams of D’Tali and a few human women over by the Navigator, assessing the damage. Meanwhile, most of the crowd had already headed back to the city by now. Just outside the gate stood King Dojak and several of his advisors and humans. My need to get Janis somewhere safe where she could be revived throbbed in me as a painful reminder, and I began to stride swiftly towards the king.

“My King!” I called out. I heard my voice as if it were outside of me. I sounded winded and panicked.

King Dojak and his human wife, Sofia, looked up in alarm. My shout also got the attention of Camilia, a human healer, who appeared from behind the king and watched me approach.

“What’s happened, Nadan?” King Dojak asked as I rushed up to them with Janis in my arms.

“It’s Janis! She—I don’t know what happened, but she collapsed,” I said desperately, holding tight to her. “I tried to wake her but she wouldn’t move.” I looked pleadingly between King Dojak and Sofia. Someone in charge had to tell me what to do.

“When did she collapse?” It was Camilia, appearing suddenly by my side, her baby Ania on her hip. Ania stared up at me with wide-eyed curiosity.

“Just after the Navigator crashed—she just fell, and she won’t wake up,” I said.

Camilia threw her hand out and grabbed Janis’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. Her normally composed face wrinkled in concern.

“Your Majesty, would you hold Ania for me?” Camilia asked gently, though her face showed urgency. Without waiting for a response, she deposited the small child into the king’s arms, who looked at first surprised then happy to cuddle the baby.

“Of course, Camilia,” King Dojak replied, pinching Ania’s nose and grinning at her subsequent shrieks of laughter. “Take care of Janis. Ania is safe here.”

Without waiting another beat, Camilia strode through the camp gates, leading me toward the temporary infirmary, weaving through the thinning crowd still jabbering animatedly about the crash.

“I set up an infirmary in Rover’s cargo hold to care for the pilots, just in case.”

“Very thoughtful, Lady Camilia.”

I felt as if Janis’s body pulsed in my arms, in rhythm with my heartbeat. I knew she needed Camilia’s help, but I also knew how likely she was to startle in fright when she saw two people looming over her, one of them a strange, unknown D’Tali. It was just like the numas that I trained—get too close too fast, and they spooked.

But I knew what I’d felt when our skin touched—was it possible she would react differently to me? If we were bonded, could Janis open her eyes and feel a sense of calm? Or would she be alarmed?

I gritted my teeth as I followed Camilia through the crowd. I did not know what would happen next, but now more than ever, my heart thrummed with one word:

Janis.

Janis

When I opened my eyes, a wave of nausea and confusion crashed over me. My temples pounded. A dusty amber light floated up around my head, making me wince. I felt in my body rather than my heart the effects of the deep sadness which had overtaken my consciousness just moments before. I was achy, a little delirious, and exhausted. Why was I so exhausted? Then I remembered…

“Janis,” someone said.

I turned my head and saw Camilia standing beside me, her face full of compassion. She pulled up a nearby storage box and sat on it, taking my hand in hers. She was being so kind to me. I hated that.

You don’t deserve it.

My own voice in my head rang out like a shot. It made my temples pound even harder. I tried to shake it off. I’d worked hard over years of therapy to handle these negative intrusive thoughts—but I was more vulnerable when tired and stressed.

“How are you feeling, Janis?” Camilia asked gently.

I swallowed, considering how I could answer that, when I heard a rustling from somewhere behind Camilia. In spite of my exhaustion, I shot up, peering around her to get a look at who was there.

“Whoa, whoa,” Camilia said soothingly. “Easy there, Janis. It’s only Nadan.”

It was him, the D’Tali man I’d caught staring at me once or twice. He stood awkwardly by the door, his hands clasped in front of him. He was peering at me intently, but looked up at the ceiling when I met his gaze.

“What is he doing here?” I asked rigidly, putting a hand to my forehead to try to quell the aching.

“He brought you here,” Camilia replied. She turned to glance back at Nadan and nodded at him. “He was the only one who saw you collapse in front of the Navigator. Thank goodness he did—you owe him your gratitude.”

My fists curled as I inhaled sharply. I didn’t owe anyone anything.

He could have left you to bake in the sun.

My head spun. My eyes throbbed. I put my hands over my eyes and tried to keep breathing. I felt a warm feminine hand on my shoulder. Why was Camilia being so kind to me? I had tried for so long to distance myself from her and the other women.

“Janis—you gave us all quite a fright,” Camilia said. “Have you been feeling faint recently?”

Yes, I had. But I shook my head no.

“What about food?” Camilia stood and scooped my wrist up to check my pulse. “When was the last time you ate?”

“This morning,” I lied. “I had breakfast with the rest of you.”

“Hmm,” Camilia hummed, her eyebrow furrowing. “That’s funny, I don’t remember seeing you.”

“I snuck away. I ate in the back.” You’re such a liar, I thought to myself viciously.

“Alright, well…” Camilia bit her lip and glanced around the supplies at her disposal, lost in thought. Suddenly, she turned to the doorway. “Nadan?” she called.

The D’Tali man perked up, eyebrows arched.

“Could you come help me with this?” She grabbed what looked like a sensor attached to a long hose that fed into a small hand-held device.

Nadan crossed from the door to my bed with a few easy strides and stood carefully at attention as Camilia deftly put the sensor on my chest underneath my shirt.

“Oh, I—” I started, but it didn’t matter what I would have said. It would have fallen on deaf ears. Camilia kept her hand over the sensor positioned above my heart and handed Nadan the device.

“You’ll have to read it for me, since this thing only really works when I press on it,” Camilia explained as Nadan took the device with curiosity. “It’ll beep once it’s finished its reading—I need you to read out the second number that flashes.”

I felt a suction at my chest where the sensor was positioned and an increase in pressure as Camilia pressed with both hands. I started to flush—there was so much going on and I barely had any time to protest. When I’d woken up this morning, I had only pictured myself on the ship going back home, not lying on a bed with a woman’s hands under my shirt and a strange alien hovering at my shoulder.

Suddenly the device in Nadan’s hands beeped. The noise went through my headache like a sledgehammer.

“What’s it say?” Camilia prompted.

“Thirty-two,” Nadan said, his voice calm.

“Woowee!” Camilia exclaimed. She lifted her head to look at me and there was a smile on her face, but her eyes were serious. “Your cortisol levels are… astronomically high.”

“I did just watch our only way off this planet crash to the ground,” I said before I could help myself. “What’s going on with the ship, by the way?” I swallowed. It’s done. You’re done. You’re stuck here forever. “Can it fly? Is it ruined? Was—uh, was anyone hurt?”

Camilia narrowed her eyes shrewdly and peered at me with a knowing look. My gaze darted to my hands. I realized I was clutching the fabric of my shirt so tightly my knuckles were turning white.

You’re stuck here.

I needed to convince Camilia that I was okay, because I needed to get out of this room. I didn’t like her watching me and I didn’t like that the D’Tali man had found me in such a state. I took in a deep breath.

“I need to relax,” I said in what I hoped was my most serious voice. “I know, you’re right. I just got a little swept away in the excitement about the ship.”

“A little,” Camilia snorted, but she pried the sensor off my chest and began wrapping the hose around the device in Nadan’s hands. When she finished, she stowed it back in its box and sat back down on the crate by my bedside. Nadan stood still, as if he was afraid sudden movements would frighten us.

“Janis, this is troubling,” Camilia began.

You’re stuck here.

“I know,” I said quickly, hoping to cut her off at the pass. “I know. I—listen, I’m just a little frazzled, that’s all, but that happens to me sometimes. I—before we came here, this used to happen to me. I fainted before I got the results of my SATs. I was just so excited to know.”

Liar. That’s not why you fainted.

“I’d like you to eat something,” Camilia said exasperatedly.

“I’m fine, really, Camilia,” I protested. “I ate a big breakfast! This is just—you know—it was a lot to take in back there.”

I could tell Camilia didn’t believe me for an instant. She pursed her lips in a frown, her expression perturbed. Finally, she sighed and stood, moving away from my bedside.

“Stay here,” she said sternly. “I need to go check on the pilots of the ship. I don’t believe anyone was hurt, but they’ll need me to inspect folks. At least the ship didn’t crash on the cockpit…”

Camilia trailed off, but meanwhile, I was desperate for any news of the ship. If the ship hadn’t crashed on the cockpit, did that mean there was a better chance that they could make repairs and get us out of here?

“Nadan?” Camilia said, and the D’Tali nodded. “Stay here with her, won’t you? I’ll be back soon.”

“Really, Camilia, I can go,” I protested, but Camilia held up a hand to quiet me.

“Stay here with Nadan, please,” she said gently. “When I come back, we’ll measure your cortisol levels again. If they’re lower, you’re free to leave.” She smiled brightly. I could tell she didn’t believe anything that had come out of my mouth in the last five minutes and was calling my bluff.

Camilia left, leaving me alone with the D’Tali. I stole a look at him in spite of myself. His scaly skin was a striking dark blue, and although he stood like a soldier, there was something gentle about his face. I supposed if anyone was to have found me completely helpless, he wasn’t the worst. I shuddered when I thought of the other D’Tali that the human women had grown so close to. How could they have been bewitched by these aliens?

One thing was certain—if I wanted to get out of this, I was going to have to convince Camilia that I was calm enough to leave. That required deep breathing. I didn’t know enough about cortisol levels to know if thirty-two was truly as high as she said, but I knew enough about self-soothing tools to remember that, if I was ever in a bind, deep breaths were the thing most likely to bring me back to my normal state.

Or rather, they were the tool most likely to get me to appear normal.

You’re trapped here.

The thought made my heart beat more rapidly and brought a quiver to my hands. If the ship couldn’t get off the ground again, then I really was trapped here. Everything that you’ve worked for on Earth—

No! I had to stop that line of thought. That was dangerous. If I was going to be able to get out from under Camilia’s scrutiny, I had to calm myself down.

All I could hope for was that Camilia’s return would bode positive news about the ship’s repairs, and that sooner or later, I’d be on my way home again.

Nadan

With Camilia gone, the air between Janis and me grew tense. I desperately wanted to speak to her, but what could I say? She was clearly wounded—not by her fainting spell, but by something deep within.

The dark purple hue underneath Janis’s eyes made the rest of her skin shine brightly in the dim light, like a pale but brilliant moon overseeing its shadowy landscape. But instead of a glowing calm, Janis’s face exuded a quiet dread. She was struggling.

All of a sudden, the memory of the shock running up my spine when Janis’s hand touched my cheek made me want to grab and hold onto her, squeeze the unease out of her and replace it with a warm peace. I longed to feel the touch of her skin again. Something in me roared with disquiet at her pain.

I shook off the longing and tried to quiet the roar.

There was surely some distraction I could use to relieve her pain. She’d seemed to cling to Camilia’s every word about the ship. I suspected it was consuming her every thought—between her obvious desire to learn more about its status and passing out after seeing it crash, it was clear that Janis could only think about one thing.

I cleared my throat experimentally. Janis’s eyes darted up at me, but then flitted back down to her hands. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, lost in thought.

Perhaps I had imagined everything… the touch, the bond… if she was so unaffected by my presence, wouldn’t that mean that this was not reciprocal? Wouldn’t that mean that I was wrong about the bond?

“You don’t have to worry,” I said quietly.

Janis turned to look at me, staring at me head-on with her enormous hazel eyes. She did not respond, so I plowed forward.

“The crew of the ship were D’Tali—they had been trained extensively by Amber on how to drive the ship. But they’re hardy—much sturdier than humans, so they won’t be too hurt by the crash.”

Janis looked confused and kept quiet.

“You know,” I continued, feeling more moronic by the minute, “in case you were worried about anyone being hurt.”

“Oh,” Janis said quietly.

“Everyone’s going to be okay,” I said in the same soothing voice I used with skittish numas.

Janis nodded, staring down at her wringing hands, their knuckles white from tension. After a long moment she replied, “Good.”

Alright, Nadan, not a terrible job. I had no reason to congratulate myself, but I hadn’t spooked her even more, which ought to be considered a plus. I suspected I hadn’t quite touched the core of what was plaguing Janis, but neither had I caused her additional distress.

I’m measuring success like my work with the numas, I realized.

But Janis wasn’t an animal—she was a person; a complicated, clearly hurting person. It wasn’t going to be as simple as approaching an abused numa. Despite that, I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of optimism. Perhaps I would be able to learn soon enough whether I was wrong about the bond or not…

In the silence that followed, I lowered myself onto the crate Camilia had vacated and was letting my attention wander when I felt the acute sensation of someone watching me. I turned slowly to see Janis staring at me with open curiosity. The minute she saw she had been caught, she was back to staring at her hands.

But that hadn’t kept me from noticing the expression on her face. For a moment, she hadn’t looked wounded, and had instead looked open.

I recalled the times during my early childhood when I had been ill or injured, and how my mother had soothed me with her stories, lulling me into a sense of peace until I drifted asleep in her arms.

And one story in particular had always fascinated me. “My mother told me stories, when I was small, of the lost Sun Stone,” I heard myself say. “A priceless jewel long since lost to our people. It was said to have provided us with warmth in the cold seasons and light at night to rival the moon. Our people would sit in its presence when ill or tired and find themselves rejuvenated.”

I realized my instincts were right when Janis cocked her head, listening silently to my story.

“Lost?” she asked quietly.

I nodded. “The D’Tali didn’t always live in this land. The Sun Stone was said to have powered our civilization.”

“A power source?” she murmured. “What happened?”

I shrugged. “It was so long ago. When we arrived here, it was without the Sun Stone.”

“Why?”

I hesitated. “I’m uncertain. But my grandmother always said that it was protected by fearsome guardians who would only allow it to be used for peaceful means.”

She shifted a little. “Where is it?”

There was something more than idle curiosity in her voice, and I ruthlessly pursued that spark of life. “We don’t really know. The oral legends say we came from the direction of the rising sun, traveling across the desert sands by foot for weeks. We had our old and infants with us and had to travel slowly.” I paused. “And our sick, for once we left the presence of the Sun Stone, we did not enjoy the same health as before. We were… diminished.”

“When you say it powered your civilization, what does that mean?”

I blinked, at a sudden loss. In light of the new technology that had come with the human women and their plundering of the ship they’d come in after it crashed, that question posed far more significance than it had in the past.

“Well, it lit the sky at night, as I said,” I said slowly. “And provided healing and warmth.”

She narrowed her eyes a little. “How did it get its power?” She seemed to be talking to herself. “If you called it a Sun Stone, I wonder if it was solar-powered tech?”

“I—don’t know.” I stared at her, curious. “I never thought of it that way before. It was always just a legend. No one ever thought that—”

She sat up. “That it could be tech? Long lost technology from an ancient civilization? We have Earth stories like that, theories that eons ago there were advanced technological civilizations on our planet that could have been destroyed by any number of cataclysms.”

This was the most she’d spoken since waking. I leaned forward, spreading my hands. “Anything is possible, but who knows? Much research would have to be done to get to the truth, and we have no one particularly trained in that kind of study.”

She gave me a peculiar look. “Trained,” she said slowly, “in the study of ancient civilizations. Actually… we do have someone.”

Janis lapsed into silence, but the quality of it was different. I sensed, for a moment, that her thoughts were not embroiled in the blanket of pain that had surrounded her.

“Who?” I asked.

“Me.”

Several painfully awkward minutes later, the door to the med room opened and Camilia walked through, appearing harried but not completely frantic. Janis looked up instantly and laser-focused on Camilia. I stood, stepping away from the bed.

“What, ah—what’s the news?” Janis asked.

“Well, no one was hurt, so that’s a blessing,” Camilia replied. “Nothing but a few scrapes and bruises, but the D’Tali are strong, so I’m fairly relieved.”

“Did you see the ship?” Janis pressed.

Camilia shook her head. “The D’Tali on board called over a personal communicator to King Dojak—we were chatting with them that way.”

Janis’s brow wrinkled with confusion. “So, what about the ship?”

Camilia went to the storage box where she had left the mechanism that measured Janis’s stress. Her eyes seemed strangely guarded. I understood immediately that Camilia was avoiding Janis’s question.

“What about the ship?” Camilia asked carefully.

I knew that tone well. Camilia was approaching Janis in the same way that I approached an easily frightened numa. It appeared that I wasn’t the only one who was employing some gentle nurturing tactics on Janis.

“What’s the latest on the ship, itself?” she pressed. “Did you see it?”

Camilia shook her head and unraveled the hose from the device. “No, I did not.”

Janis sighed audibly. “Well, what did the pilots say? What’s wrong with it? Why didn’t it fly?”

Camilia placed the sensor back underneath Janis’s shirt and handed me the device. She pressed down hard on Janis’s chest, and the force pushed her back down to a horizontal position. That did not subdue the look of fiery indignation on her face.

“Camilia. What happened to the ship?”

Camilia sighed. I watched her carefully—there was pain behind her meticulously arranged expression. I couldn’t yet tell if that pain was because of Janis or because of something else internally.

“It appears as if…” Camilia began slowly, “one of the engines was damaged. And faulty.”

Janis’s face looked stricken. She wasn’t even trying to conceal it. “Damaged how? Faulty how?”

At that moment, the device in my hand beeped. I hadn’t even noticed that Camilia had turned it on.

“What does it say, Nadan?” Camilia asked. “I’m looking for the second number.”

I looked down. The first number was 98.6, but the second was 33. It seemed Janis’s stress levels had gone up since Camilia had returned. I wasn’t surprised. She was obviously agitated about the ship. However, if we kept her in the med room for much longer, the levels were likely to climb even higher—being stuck here was clearly doing a tremendous amount of harm.

But I didn’t like lying to Camilia…

“Nadan,” Camilia repeated. “The second number?”

“Twenty-eight,” I said without thinking. I covered the face of the device with my hand lest Camilia see my transgression.

“Alright,” Camilia nodded, promptly taking the sensor off Janis’s chest. “Not incredible, but definitely better than before.” I snuck a peak at the device’s screen—without a body attached to the sensor, the screen had gone blank. I handed it back to Camilia.

“Camilia,” Janis said again, and her voice shook. “How was the engine damaged?”

Camilia took great pains wrapping the hose around the device and placing it back into the storage box. She sat down on the crate I had vacated and placed her hands in her lap.

“I don’t know exactly how it’s damaged,” she replied honestly, looking bravely and directly into Janis’s eyes. “But it’s significant.”

“Can they fix it?” Janis said, sitting back up again. “Will it fly again?”

Camilia hummed. “As soon as the dust cleared, Amber took a numa over there, and once we’re done here, we’ll be taking Rover over to the crash site. She and Torvok inspected the engine room and made contact with the pilots. Apparently, whatever damage was done, either during the liftoff or during the crash, is significant enough that Amber is recommending we strip the ship for parts.”

Janis’s face went eerily blank. My heart thudded uncomfortably in my chest to see it. That wasn’t a good sign…

“So, no, Janis, I don’t think it will fly again,” Camilia said gently. “It’s… obviously a complicated situation for me. I wanted the ability to go home, too.” She smiled weakly. “It’s difficult, because I’ve found a happiness here that I didn’t know was possible when we were on Earth, but I can’t deny that this doesn’t make me feel a profound sadness. I think perhaps you can resonate with that.”

Janis’s eyes unfocused. She stared off into the distance somewhere above Camilia’s head.

“I don’t know what that means for us, Janis, but in the meantime, I think you should seriously consider participating in one of the yoga sessions that we do together here,” Camilia continued. “I know we look hilarious to the D’Tali—Troko makes ruthless fun of me—but yoga does reduce stress, and we want to avoid a repeat of what happened today as much as possible.”

Janis nodded faintly. “Sure,” she said, but her voice barely registered above a whisper.

Camilia watched Janis carefully, then our eyes met. I could see we were thinking along the same lines. Neither of us were particularly convinced by Janis’s show of confidence. Suddenly, I regretted lying about the test levels. Was I hurting Janis rather than helping her?

I averted my gaze. I didn’t like looking at Camilia knowing I had lied to her. But it meant now I had to shoulder the consequences. Janis’s health was now partly my responsibility. The thought… didn’t displease me.

“You’re free to go, Janis, there’s no more reason to keep you here,” Camilia announced finally.

Janis stood from the bed and nodded vacantly again. “Thank you, Camilia,” she said. She began to walk to the door but turned just before she reached it.

Our eyes met. I was shocked to see an unfamiliar resolute hardness.

“Thank you, Nadan,” Janis offered, then exited.

Something about the finality of her statement made me wary. I exchanged a concerned look with Camilia.

What was Janis going to do?

Janis

You’re going to die here.

As I stumbled out of the infirmary, I heard Camilia’s bad news bumping around my own thoughts in my head. Every sentence was clamoring for a space, shouting at the loudest volume, but what I heard clearest and most obviously was a resounding chorus of you’re going to die here.

My stomach ached. It was worse than how I imagined getting shot must feel—instead of a bullet or a weapon piercing my flesh, I felt like there was a fermenting hole starting in my core that was beginning to rot my body from the inside, pulling into it any hope of getting off this forsaken planet.

You thought you’d succeed? Ha. After all that work, you’re just going to die on an alien planet.

Perhaps I was hallucinating. I clung to that hope like a life raft—maybe this was all a massive psychotic breakdown. Maybe my turbulent past had finally caught up with me and I was beginning to come apart at the seams. I imagined waking up in a clean, sterile hospital on Earth, with a team of human doctors surrounding me, looking at me with concern. ‘Do you know what you’ve been saying, Janis?’ they’d ask. ‘You’ve been talking about an alien planet. But you’re on Earth, Janis. You’re home.’

I could accept insanity if it meant being home.

And yet, standing out in the cooling air, I knew I wasn’t crazy. I knew my version of crazy—and this wasn’t it.

You’ve wasted your whole life.

There was my crazy, haunting me at every step, sneering at me from within my own head, sounding exactly like me and yet the complete opposite at the same time. I clutched at my stomach even though I knew that I was whole; somehow the image of fulminating rot was like a backdrop to the rest of my vision—ever present, ever decaying.

Guess you shouldn’t have studied so hard for the graduate exams.

That was a lie, and an obvious one. Perversely, it settled me. Sometimes the inner voice was insidious—blatant fabrications were easier to negate. I thought of my endless hours of academia, the late-night studying sessions with friends, the cramped shoulders hovering over text books, scribbling down notes. I’d worked hard, I’d focused. I’d carved out success, three traits I could be certain and proud of. Hard work and purpose were two of the only things that could drown out my crazy. And maybe that was part of the problem. I had no purpose here. I’d finally been at a point in my life where I couldn’t hear it at all, and now…

Now it was the loudest thing in the world.

You’ll never see your friends again.

You’ll never have ice cream again.

You’ll never hear jazz again.

You’ll die alone, in obscurity, surrounded by aliens.

“Not true,” I snapped, clutching my head with my hands.

It’s funny how this always happens to you, isn’t it?

“No, stop,” I moaned, dropping to my knees on the cold dirt.

No matter what you do, you just always get trapped somewhere you don’t want to be.

“No,” I whispered as tears leaked out of my eyes.

Admit it, Janis. You’re broken. This is why this keeps happening to you.

You’re a broken person.

And the dam burst. I buried my face in my hands and wept. In addition to the hole in my stomach now the size of a fist, my heart was splitting in two. I was right—there was something fundamentally wrong with me if this kept happening. I’d tried to fight my broken nature… and in doing so, brought upon myself the worst possible outcome yet, stranded on an alien planet with no way of getting home.

I had to get out of there.

Get out, get out, get out to where no one can see how broken you are.

I had no real plan of where to go, but suddenly my body flooded with adrenaline. I was trapped on this planet, but I couldn’t for one more second be trapped here with a bunch of other women who had just accepted their fate. Or worse—found, what was it Camilia called it? A happiness she did not know was possible. I felt disgust cinching at my throat. I refused to be happy here—to be happy was to forget how much I deserved this.

I had to get out of there.

Get out, and fast.

And I knew where I needed to go.

I needed to find the Sun Stone.

I was the only one who could. Nadan had said there was no one among his people trained to search for ancient secrets. Ironically, there was now.

And you think you’re going to uncover an alien artifact in the desert when the D’Tali haven’t found it in untold generations?

The voice sneered at me, but I ignored it, my mouth thinning stubbornly. This was what I had trained for. To sift through the clues leading to ancient civilizations and piece together their mysteries. I’d thought my skills useless on this planet—what use was an archaeologist?

But I had been wrong. And all it had taken was a simple story.

There was no way there wasn’t some grain of truth to it. Most myths and legends could be explained with enough research into their origins.

It wasn’t farfetched to think that the D’Tali’s ancestors had owned technology. Maybe a ship had crash landed here before.

All I had to do was find the Sun Stone. If it really was alien tech, it could power the ship. It could do so much good.

Shored up under a burgeoning sense of purpose, I stood and stumbled toward my tent, letting my feet lead. My brain was drowning with the pounding screams of the voice that might have been me. Broken, broken, broken, it shouted, hammering away at the insides of my skull.

When I reached the flap of my tent and pushed through it, I was relieved to see that none of the other women I shared the space with were present and waiting for me. I imagined that everyone was still out and milling around, discussing and processing the ship’s disastrous launch.

What are you doing? Why are you slowing down?

I grabbed a pack and began to indiscriminately fill it with clothes and supplies. I wasn’t worried about appearing conspicuous. I knew that, eventually, everything had to be torn down and packed up. With the ship a mile or so away in the distance, eventually everyone would be picking up and moving closer in order to assist with the effort in taking it apart. I couldn’t imagine a worse process for me to participate in.

Go, go, go, go.

I took in a shallow breath as I looked down into my half-full bag. A few changes of clothes, some modest first aid supplies… that was all well and good, but I wasn’t going to make it more than a few days without food. As I stood and pointed my body in the direction of the mess tent, it occurred to me that taking food made it look like I was going on a journey to somewhere…

You need to get out of here. Now. If people knew how broken you are, they’d run you out of town.

I walked across the camp, keeping my head down, hoping no one would notice me. My breath fogged in front of me in the cool air. I was correct—the D’Tali and humans were talking animatedly and seriously with each other as they packed. I crossed the distance to the mess tent without anyone questioning me. As I passed a rain barrel, I stopped abruptly.

Seeing the barrel standing in the early afternoon light reminded me vividly of an evening much like this when I’d catapulted myself from dinner in a similar state. I had stood over the rain barrel, waiting to calm down, gazing at my reflection in the water. And, just when I had a hold on myself, I sensed I was being watched.

It had been Nadan, passing through in the shadows, watching me. The memory tripped something inside of me, like a magnet, but I couldn’t quite understand what it was. I had the sudden and bizarre urge to go find him.

That D’Tali would rather die than be near someone so broken as you.

I shivered. I had to keep going. All I knew was that I had to keep moving.

The mess tent was completely deserted. I stuffed a number of wrapped legs of meat and salted breads that I knew were more likely to keep indefinitely into the top of my bag. I found three skins of water and placed them on top of the pile, pulling the drawstrings of the backpack closed. I settled it over my shoulders. It wasn’t as heavy as I’d imagined.

I stood with the bag on my back, blinking. I looked around for anyone approaching, and realized I was ready to go. The realization shocked me almost as much as hearing about the ship’s destruction. So, what direction would I run?

Nadan had said his people had trekked across the desert from the direction of the rising sun.

So that was where I would go. I’d find that Sun Stone… and if I didn’t, if I had to die on this planet, I would die on my own terms, far away from this fever dream of a colony. I would die doing what I was born to do.

Get out. Go. Now.

I stepped out of the mess tent and went the long way around the camp to the numa stables. Luck was on my side, as I still hadn’t run into anyone. Not that anyone cared to notice you.

“Shut up,” I muttered to my own mind. No one will even notice that you’re going. It’s not like you made any friends here. That D’Tali—Nadan—only looks at you because you’re a human woman, a curiosity, like humans at a zoo watch giraffes. “Stop.”

I approached the numa I’d used the most—a smaller creature than her brothers and sisters, but one who was known to tear off at greater speeds. I didn’t have a ton of experience with numas, so I picked one I at least knew.

I felt a short pang of guilt as I mounted her, thinking of her wandering through a wasteland with no food or water. As I felt heat rising from her sturdy body, I felt a small sense of calm. I brushed off the image. Numas were smarter than I, and she could certainly find her way home in the end.

Home. It’s not a place you’ll ever see again, thought the crueler version of me, laughing incessantly in my head. How my shadow-self seemed to delight in my pain. Remembering that brought my attention back to the rotting hole in my center, now as large as a small boulder. My eyes began to water again, then stream. I looked back at the camp, bathed in the strange light of this alien planet.

I’d never see my home again.

With that final thought, sobs escaped my body in a torrent, and I dug my heels into the numa to start my journey before someone could hear the sound of my pathetic weeping.

Nadan

“So much to do.” Camilia wandered around the infirmary, looking frazzled as she tried to put away all of her medical instruments. She stopped to blow a stray lock of hair away from her face, then spun around and looked me in the eye. “I’m gonna need your help.”

“My help?” I repeated, stopping in the infirmary’s doorway. I had already been on my way out, wanting to check if Janis was truly alright, but it seemed like Camilia had other plans for me.

“Yeah,” she replied, waving a hand at all the material that surrounded her. “I need you to get someone in here so that we can start getting the infirmary packed up. I don’t want medical supplies and equipment rolling around while we’re driving Rover to the new crash site, and I need to get Ania back. As lovely as she might be, I don’t know if Dojak can handle her for more than an hour without going crazy. What about you, Nadan? Can you handle this for me?”

“Of course,” I replied, ignoring the urge to go after Janis. There’d be time to check up on her later. “I’ll get it done.”

Once Camilia was gone, I placed both hands on my hips and looked around. Judging by all the material strewn about, I’d have to assign more than a couple of guys to the task. I clicked my tongue and, with a sharp turn, headed out of the infirmary. After asking around, I managed to find some of the D’Tali that had helped haul Camilia's material out of the ship. One of them had even helped her assemble it. Once I had delegated the packing to my newly-assembled team of movers, as per Camilia’s request, I left the infirmary and the Rover behind.

I wandered through the chaos of the campsite, trying to find Janis, but she was nowhere to be found. That wasn’t unusual—the campsite was reasonably large, and there were a lot of people around—but I couldn’t shake the uneasiness that had settled inside me.

Frustrated, I made the rounds to see if the numas were properly fed and watered, then went back to make sure Camilia’s infirmary had been completely packed. In truth, that was just an excuse to keep wandering aimlessly through the camp, hoping to see a sign of Janis.

“Alright, boys.” Standing by the door of the now emptied infirmary, I gave the sweaty team of movers a nod. “Make sure the material is properly labeled, then you can start loading up the crates. We don’t wanna be without an infirmary for too long.”

I stood there for a moment, watching as the guys started pushing the crates around, but ended up being distracted by Naro. I looked down to see the hound licking my fingers, the scales covering her skin caked in dirt. She was the best hunting tayn in King Dojak’s royal kennels and, judging by the state of her scales, she had already been doing some hunting of her own.

“What do you want, girl?” I scratched her behind the ear, and she tilted her head to the side, purring in appreciation. “Don’t tell me you’re already hungry. C’mon, let’s see what we can find.”

I strode through the camp with Naro trailing after me, her footsteps so light I could barely hear her. Even though most tayn were silent predators, Naro was something else entirely. She was a female who could lead a pack—that was unusual, when it came to tayn packs—and I couldn’t even recall the last time she had failed at bringing down her prey. More than just that, she was fiercely loyal and excellent company.

“Where are the two of you going?” King Dojak asked as he stepped from inside a tent, and his gaze went straight to Naro, a smile spreading across his lips. He loved all of his animals, especially his prized numas, but I knew he had a special place in his heart for her.

“I was just about to feed Naro,” I explained, and Dojak’s smile widened.

“What do you say we let her decide what her meal’s going to be?” he asked, already stroking Naro’s head. “I’ve heard reports of healthy herds of pafu nearby, so I was thinking we could do some quick hunting while the camp is being moved.”

“Of course, My King.” I looked around and, once I found the D’Tali I was looking for, snapped my fingers together. No more than three seconds later and Krav, my apprentice, stood beside me. “Go get Naro ready. The king is going hunting.”

“Yes, sir,” Krav said, performing a formal but awkward bow. It was more for King Dojak’s benefit than mine, but I still appreciated the effort. With time, I knew he’d become one of the most experienced beast handlers in the realm.

“You know, My King,” I said, not even bothering to hide the amusement in my voice, “using this visit to the crash site as an excuse to go hunting… that might be your best idea yet.”

“Nadan, you know me too well. Just between you and me, I needed a break from my administrative duties. Had anyone told me that being a king was all about the paperwork, I might have given the title to my cousin.”

“Lomav?” I scoffed, remembering how Dojak’s cousin had plotted to usurp the throne shortly after the women had arrived at Tahkath. “Thank the Ancestors that didn’t happen.”

“Anyway,” he continued, “this will give Naro some exercise, and I’m certain everyone will appreciate a nice pafu dinner tonight, especially after what happened today with the ship.”

“She’s all ready,” Krav announced, stepping between me and the king. Naro was beside him, her upper torso covered in a lightweight spiked armor that would protect her from large predators that could mistake her for a snack. She didn’t really need the protection—she was the fiercest of animals when it was time to use her teeth—but both the king and I preferred to play it safe.

A few minutes later, both King Dojak and I were mounted on our numas, slowly putting some miles between us and the camp. A small retinue of soldiers trailed after us, but they kept their distance, not wanting to risk alerting our prey when we finally came across it. Naro and I led the group, the hound sniffing at the ground and hopping between rocks as she tried to pick up the scent of pafu.

“They should be close by,” I told Dojak, noticing the way Naro’s scales bristled on her unarmored neck. That meant she was getting excited, and that only happened when she started to anticipate the thrill of the hunt. “We should keep going on foot.”

“Agreed.” Dojak jumped down from his numa and waved at the guards, signaling for them to hold their position. Together, we followed after Naro as she climbed up a rocky hill, panting excitedly. A slight breeze came down from the top of the hill, carrying the musky scent of pafu males, and I motioned for Dojak to crouch.

Naro did it without me having to issue a command. She flattened her body against the rock, her head peeking over the crest of the hill. Slowly, I made my way to her side, a grin spreading across my lips as I noticed the herd of pafu directly beneath us. There were at least thirty of the creatures, and they were all hiding under the shadow of a jutting rock.

“Look at that one,” Dojak whispered, hitting me with his elbow. I looked in the direction he pointed to see a large pafu sitting at the center of the herd, an imposing male who dwarfed all the others. His tongue was lolling, but he was taking in his surroundings attentively, knowing that life in the wilderness was fraught with danger.

“That’s a good one, My King,” I replied. “He has lived long enough, so we’re not being merciless. Besides, he seems to have enough meat on his bones to feed the entire camp.”

I clicked my tongue, signaling Naro to do her job. She scurried back down the hill and started going around it, ready to flank the pafu and push the target toward our position.

“It feels good to be out here,” Dojak said as we waited for Naro. “This spacecraft business was a stressful one.”

“Well, it's easier now, isn’t it? With Aetam as our allies, we no longer have to waste most of our resources on preventing raids.”

“True.” Dojak nodded. “I wish we could have repaired the ship. The D’Tali could have gone from being a local power to a global one. Just think of the good we could have done on this continent with such technology.”

“Weren’t you worried the women would have taken the ship?”

“Take it? What for?”

“They’re from Earth.” I shrugged. “Wouldn’t they have wanted to return?”

Dojak smiled. “Fate brought the women here, and I’m confident they will all find mates. Once that happens, they won’t want to leave. Most of them already see this place as their home.”

Not all of them, I thought, my mind circling back to Janis. Again, that uneasiness reared its ugly head. I couldn’t help but wonder about her. She had promised she was okay, but I knew she was troubled. No matter what she had told Camilia, Janis wasn’t well.

“As it is, I am grateful we will be able to salvage the ship for parts and technology, Nadan. Every piece of that ship is valuable. Tons upon tons of metals, technology, computers, everything on it can now be used for the good of D’Tali.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way, My King, but I see the sense in it.”

“And, were we to simply leave it there, someone else would have seen the salvage value. Besides, Nadan, I look forward to no longer having to support a camp a day’s full ride from the castle. The entire project has cost us a fortune. I had never considered such things before becoming king, but now I understand this salvage operation will help us recoup the costs.”

I heard Naro growl in the distance. She jumped into position, appearing right beside the pafu, and they all scattered like leaves in the wind. Knowing what she had to do, the hound circled after the large pafu male, driving him straight toward us.

“Ah, here we go, My King.”

King Dojak smiled, expectant.

I considered the beast’s trajectory, then held my breath and felt the wind. Beside me, Dojak was already nocking an arrow on his bow, taking aim at the pafu.

“Slightly lower,” I advised him, knowing that the wind would knock the arrow slightly from its trajectory. Dojak was an expert bowman when it came to a chaotic battlefield, but the hunting grounds were a completely different matter. “Like that, yes. Let loose once the pafu reaches that outcropping.”

Dojak sucked in a deep breath, following my advice, and released the bow with perfect timing. The arrow whistled through the air, cutting through the space until it found a resting place in the pafu’s neck. The beast collapsed almost immediately.

“Well, we have found dinner, my friend.” He slapped my shoulder, groaning as he rose to his feet. “I think that, after today’s disappointment, this might help to lift everyone’s moods.”

Not everyone, I thought once more, Janis’s face taking over my mind’s eye. I had always liked the girl, but this obsession was unusual. Was I just worrying too much, or was this proof we were mates, our bond letting me know that Janis was in peril?

It was hard to tell.

One thing I knew for sure—once I was back, I was going to look for her.

Janis

The heat was almost unbearable.

I kept the reins in my hands, holding them so tightly that the leather was already digging into my flesh. Still, I didn’t let go. Even though my thighs and shoulders hurt with every swaying motion of the numa, I kept going, marching straight toward the horizon.

Where do you think you’re going? That inner voice said, every single word of it dripping with sarcasm. What would the others say if they could see you right now? You’re making a fool of yourself, Janis. Then again, that’s been your life so far, hasn’t it?

“Shut up,” I hissed through gritted teeth, trying to subdue all that toxicity. It was almost impossible. I could feel the poison of it slipping under my subconscious, like a cold hand moving under warm sheets.

Clenching my jaw so tightly pain shot through my skull, I squeezed my thighs and urged the numa to go even faster. Together, we cut across the arid wasteland, our lonesome figure casting long shadows across the sand. Overhead, a bright sun covered the desert with unforgiving heat, turning the horizon into undulating images of nothingness.

I continued going in a straight line towards the rising sun, stopping only to give my numa some water every hour or so. Not that I could be sure of the passage of time. Out here, even time became nothing but a construct, devoid of meaning.

One of those times, as I sat beside the numa and nibbled at a small biscuit wrapped in hard leaves, I wondered if it wouldn’t be better to just lie down and simply let the hours slip by me. I imagined the sun rising and falling consecutively, all while the ground slowly opened up to swallow me whole. Years from now, some caravan would stumble upon my dried bones and, after a quick glance, they would just carry on.

Because you’re meaningless, Janis, my critic returned. You know that just as well as I do. Lie down and die or get back on that beast and keep riding. In the end, what does it matter? Your life is over, whether you keep breathing or not.

“Screw you,” I shouted at the top of my lungs, surprising my numa. She threw me a suspicious sideways glance and, for a moment, I actually thought she might bolt. Instead, she pushed her snout against my hand, almost as if asking if I were okay. “I’m sorry. I’m not shouting at you.”

Sighing, I hopped back on the saddle and kept on riding. The wastelands seemed to stretch into infinity all around me, the land growing more and more inhospitable with every passing hour. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had seen a living creature.

Nadan said it had taken weeks for the slow-moving trek of his people to arrive in the current kingdom. They’d traveled slowly, hampered by the young, the old, and the sick. I tried to account for the differences in their pace and mine now and watched the terrain for signs of a lost civilization. Odd topography, a source of water. A settlement would have had to have a source of water.

In the distance, the sun had already started dipping past the horizon line, casting its orange glow across the land. It reminded me of the sunsets I used to enjoy back on Earth, a cup of tea in my hands as I sat on the windowsill, waiting as the world prepared itself for nighttime slumber.

I thought of my foster parents, and how they always had a kind word for me. I thought of my linen sheets, always carefully ironed and folded after every washing. I closed my eyes, remembering my pillow, so fluffy it felt like I was laying my head on a cloud.

Life as a child had been tough, no place to really call home, but fate had been kind to me. In the end, I had found a family and a place I could feel safe in. Slowly, I had started feeling like a normal person again. All that had been robbed from me.

I no longer felt like a normal person.

I no longer had a family.

I no longer had a home.

So what? Those words came out as a wild laugh, as if my inner critic enjoyed my thoughts like one would enjoy a comedy show. You really think you deserved those things? God, woman, how pathetic can you be? Your foster parents just took pity on you because you were broken. Do you really think they loved you? They pitied you, Janis. They’ve probably forgotten about you already.

That time I didn’t bother arguing with that voice in my head. Instead, I just pursed my lips and let the tears roll down my cheeks. How could I argue against that? It was the truth. I couldn’t know for sure, but what were the odds someone was keeping the light on for me back on Earth? More likely than not, my parents had already moved on, probably happy that I was no longer in their lives. After all, what was I if not a burden?

The numa stopped suddenly, right next to an outcropping of solid rock. She went down on her hindlegs, urging me to dismount, and I didn’t bother with imposing my will. I just did what my mount wanted me to do, rolling down from the saddle onto the sand.

The shadows had already turned into an ocean of darkness, and only the faintest light of day remained. Soon enough it’d be too dark to continue, and my numa knew that. Uselessly, I knotted the end of her rein around a piece of rock that jutted from the soil and sat down beside it.

I collected whatever dried vegetation I could find in my surroundings and, using the flint and steel I carried in my bag, I tried to start a fire, as the night was sure to grow cold.

Pathetic and useless, my critic said, laughing at my pitiful attempts at starting a fire. I had already spent half an hour trying to light the pile of desiccated vegetation, my fingertips becoming raw from the effort.

Frustrated tears blurred my vision. I let a violent sob wreak havoc on my body and I wailed, losing all composure. I buried my face in both hands, trying to control the convulsions of pure desolation which had taken over me, but it was impossible.

In the end, I snuggled up to the numa bedded down beside me, sharing the beast’s warmth, and cried myself to sleep.

* * *

The next day, the riding became easier.

My numa and I woke up at the crack of dawn, both ate a quick breakfast, then we were back on the trail. We pushed through the desolate wastelands for hours, the strange world offering nothing but vast emptiness and silence, but I was slowly growing accustomed to it.

I liked the silence.

Here, I didn’t have to listen to the other women and all of their plans for the future, nor did I run the risk of running into some human-D’Tali couple making out in the hallways of the palace. Here, there was nothing to remind me that I was like a potted plant someone had thrown on the side of the road.

I was alone, but there was freedom in that loneliness.

If I didn’t find the Sun Stone, maybe I could find a nice spot to homestead here. The wastelands weren’t so bad, after all. I could build myself a little cabin here. I’d just need to find some water and I’d be set. Or, maybe instead of a cabin, I could find a little cavern next to a stream.

Yes, do that, my critic laughed. What a fucking brilliant idea. Hole up in a cavern, squander the education you’re supposed to be paying off over the next thirty years, and die. It’s not like it’s going to be much of a loss, anyway. What good are your studies here?

My inner critic was wrong.

But it was also right.

Even with the Lukadians and their skills with metal, it’d take time before they could produce the tools of my trade. Here, on this stupid planet, my academic knowledge was useless. Until now. If I could be the one to uncover the Sun Stone and discover a source of energy, then it would prove I wasn’t useless. But if I failed… this was all for nothing.

I was so consumed by those thoughts, I was no longer paying attention to the path ahead. I headed the numa straight into a winding path of loose stones. She stumbled on a loose stone. The motion threw me from the saddle, sending me flying straight to the ground.

Scared, the numa bolted. Before I could even say a word, she set off running the way we had come, my bag still latched to the saddle with all of my supplies.

“Come back!” I cried out, but it was useless. Numa could run fast when they wanted to. And as distressed as my numa was, there was no chance in hell she was coming back to me. By now, it was likely she had realized how much of a lunatic I was.

Smart girl.

I patted my body, just to check if I had broken something, but I only had a scrape on the arm I had used to break the fall. The scrape stung, but, unfortunately, it wouldn’t kill me.

Look at you, my critic said, considering death already? Too bad you’re too much of a wimp to end it all. Don’t worry, though. We already know that you can’t do anything right, Janis.

I sat there and cried.

When the tears had finally dried up, I rose to my feet and started walking. I didn’t know where I was going, but it didn’t matter. All I knew was that I needed to keep walking away—away from the life in the camp, away from my numa, away from both the past and the future.

I kept on walking until my legs felt like noodles, every single muscle in my body complaining from the effort, and then I walked some more. The scorching heat made it almost impossible to think straight and, before I knew it, I had led myself straight to a long, very deep gully cut into the landscape, like a deep, sunken scar torn in somebody’s flesh.

The edge called to me, the possibility of finally escaping my torment intoxicating. I went straight to the edge and looked down.

It was too shallow for me to jump and be assured of death.

All I would manage from this height would be a broken arm—or leg, maybe. Then I would have to wait for death to come and take me, suffering the entire time. As much as I was ready to depart the world, that wasn’t the way I wanted to go.

I turned, ready to find a way around the gully, but a rock under my foot slipped. I only realized I was falling back when it was already too late. Using both arms to protect my head and neck, I tumbled into the gully, sliding down the side while followed by a small landslide of stones.

I crashed at the bottom with a painful thud, the empty skies overhead mocking me. Thankfully, I hadn’t broken a leg. I was just scraped up; once again, I had gotten off easy. I started to rise, and that’s when I realized that my ankle was stuck between a rock and a branch weighted down by the rocks that had slid down with me.

“Shit,” I muttered, my heart sinking to my stomach. “Oh, shit.”

You’ve gone and done it now, Janis, the voice returned. Congratulations—this is where you die.

Nadan

The sun was already starting its descent through the skies by the time we got back to the camp, the cuts of fresh pafu meat slung over one of our numas. As soon as the king’s approach was noticed, a small crowd assembled at the entrance of the camp, eager to greet Dojak—and see what goods he had brought for dinner.

I swung my legs off the saddle and dismounted with a smooth motion, patting the side of my numa before I handed her over to Vark. I scanned the crowd, taking in the tired, but mostly contented glances, and smiled. Even the women didn’t seem particularly preoccupied with the day’s failure.

Maybe Dojak was right.

The D’Tali had been good to the women, and all of those who had found their mates believed they had been brought here for a reason. The ones that remained single still hoped to find a mate, and they didn’t mind being treated as revered persons by everyone—apparently, females were some sort of second-class citizens back on their homeworld. That was hard to believe, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine such an insane society.

I walked toward the crowd, trying to spot Janis. Again, there was no sign of her anywhere. I stood still for a moment, trying to think of an explanation for that while people drifted around me like a river. Some were already building a fire, while others were preparing the pafu meat for the spits.

Soon enough, low laughter began to flow around the campfire, the scent of meat wafting through the air. My stomach but, even though I had barely eaten anything all day, I moved away from the fire.

I headed toward the outer edge of the camp, where the tayn were being held, and distributed a few cuts of raw pafu meat amongst them. The juiciest cut I kept for Naro, who had performed spectacularly during the hunt. She tore into it voraciously, then nuzzled against my hand, happy for the meat-praise. I gave her a few gentle scratches and, once Vark appeared to ensure the tayn would be locked down for the night, I started making my way toward the campfire.

I wasn’t looking to get some food in my stomach, though.

My worry over Janis increased with each passing second. I needed answers for her disappearance. Was she resting inside some tent? Had she returned to the city? I needed to be certain, or else I was surely going to drive myself mad.

I made the rounds, but didn’t find her anywhere, even after asking the women. Unfortunately, none of them had seen her since she had left the infirmary. Twin pangs of worry and fear kicked in. Something was definitely wrong.

Could she have gotten lost on the way here, from the old campsite? That was unlikely. The new campsite wasn’t that far away from the old one. Unsure of what I should do next, I headed straight into the infirmary. Camilia was still there, tending to some D’Tali soldier who had gotten some debris lodged in his arm during the ship’s takeoff.

“Have you seen Janis?” I asked her without a moment’s hesitation. “She’s not here, and nobody has seen her since she left the infirmary earlier today.”

“Janis?” Camilia’s eyes narrowed. “Can’t say I’ve seen her, Nadan. Is everything alright?”

“I’ve seen her,” the soldier chimed in. “That’s the girl with red-brown hair, right? She was loading up a numa back at the campsite last time I saw her. She led her mount straight to the edge of the camp and mounted up.”

“And where did she go?”

“I have no idea,” the soldier said with a shrug. “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

I sighed, my worry increasing tenfold. We were dangerously close to the Wastelands, and that was no place for a woman to go out for a ride. Why the hell would Janis up and leave like that? She was certain to die out there, especially if she ended up wandering into the Wastelands. Only a few D’Tali were capable of surviving out there by themselves and, without the proper training and build for it, Janis didn’t stand a chance.

I turned on my heel and left the infirmary with Camilia and the soldier in tow. Camilia went straight to the women, ready to whip up a search party, but I stopped that right away. I stood before the women and motioned for them to wait. I didn’t want anyone getting hurt in the Wastelands.

“What’s going on?” A deep voice cut through the chaos slowly taking over the camp, and I glanced back over my shoulder to see the king standing by the fire, a concerned expression on his face.

“Janis has disappeared. Nobody has seen her for hours, and we have no idea where she is.” The desperation must’ve bled through in my voice, because a compassionate expression took over Dojak’s face right away. He walked toward me and laid a hand on my shoulder.

“You’re our best tracker, Nadan,” he said. “Go and find her. What do you need? Just say the word. I can ask for an elite squad from the city and—”

“We can’t afford to wait,” I said. “She already has a head start on us. With your permission, My King, I’d like to go after her right away.”

“By yourself?!”

“Yes,” I replied. “It’ll be easier that way. I’m more accustomed to the Wastelands than anyone else here, and I’ll move much faster on my own.”

“If you think that’s best.” Dojak nodded, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. Then, he raised his voice. “Prepare two of our fastest numas and hurry. Nadan needs them right away.”

“Thank you, My King.” I bowed my head. “Can I also borrow Naro? If she can pick up Janis’s scent…”

“You don’t even need to ask for permission when it comes to Naro,” he said. “You’re that hound’s favorite. She’ll follow you to the edge of the continent if that’s what you require of her.”

I bowed my head one final time, then went to collect my bag. I packed it up in less than two minutes.

Isabella stopped me before I could get any further.

“Here, take this,” she said, pushing a personal communicator into my hand. “Use it. We want updates.”

“Yes, Lady Isabella.” She rolled her eyes, muttering about ‘lady this, lady that’ as she walked away.

Two numas were already waiting for me by the fire and, under my guidance, a few soldiers loaded them up with enough provisions for a week. After a childhood spent on the caravan trails, I knew exactly what kind of supplies were needed to traverse the Wastelands and survive. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need a week’s supplies, but it was better to play it safe—you could never tell where a trail would lead you, after all, and the stakes were high here. The last thing I wanted was to have to turn back for supplies.

I put two fingers in my mouth and whistled loudly. Naro cut through the crowd assembled around me like a flying arrow, looking up at me with anticipation in her eyes. I wished I had a piece of Janis’s clothes for Naro to take her scent, but I’d have to do without. It was only a matter of picking up the trail and we could go from there.

“Good girl,” I muttered under my breath, watching as the hound immediately settled into an excited run.

“Good luck, Nadan,” Dojak said, slapping the back of my numa. The creature set off, Naro circling back to run by her side, and it didn’t take long before the campsite became nothing but a faint light in the darkness. The sound of voices went from a whisper to complete silence and, for a long time, I heard nothing but the heavy steps of the numa as they crushed the soil beneath their feet.

I pulled my cloak and mask from my pack, wrapping the garment around my shoulders. I put on my mask and pulled up the cloak’s hood.

I had a good idea where she’d left from, but I checked tracks just to make certain. I circled the new camp, but detected no unusual tracks, so I backtracked to the previous campsite. I found a trail leading away from camp, but circled the entire campsite before following it to make certain there were no others.

Finding no other trails, I doubled back to the first—the one leading into the Wastelands. I had to make certain the trail I chose to follow was hers and not someone else’s. Urgency tugged at my gut. I couldn’t afford to follow the wrong tracks.

Once we’d followed the tracks far enough from camp for Naro to get a clean scent, she led the way. Halfway through the night, we came across an exhausted numa, a heavy bag of supplies hanging from the saddle. I grabbed some feed from my bag and lured the numa in. It was one of our own, there could be no doubt about it. I took a hard look at the creature, appraising its health. It was thirsty, but otherwise in good shape.

Even though I wanted to keep going, I climbed down from my mount to give this wandering numa some water and food. As the creature ate, I investigated the tracks it had left. There were two sets of footprints, and one set of them dug deeper into the soil than the other, indicating a heavier load. Apparently, this numa was backtracking, and she had been carrying someone during her initial, outward trek.

This must be the numa Janis had ridden from camp. Janis being separated from her mount worried me even more. Despite my worry, I decided to rest the numas the few hours until sunrise.

I tethered Janis’s numa to one of those I had brought along and set off again, carefully following the trail. Merciless daylight passed us by, and night fell again. Night predators and their small prey scurried away in the dead of the night. I felt like someone was twisting a knife into my guts. This place was dangerous, especially for an unprepared human like Janis.

I gritted my teeth, trying not to picture the moment I’d find her.

What if she was hurt? What if she was—?

“Don’t go there,” I growled, urging the numa to pick up the pace. I had to find Janis as soon as possible. Out here, she was in danger, and there was no telling what could happen.

As the sun crested the horizon once more, I noticed a deep gully up ahead. I let the numas ease their pace. The tracks led straight to it. Dismounting, I went straight to the edge and peered down into the shadows. My heart plunged as I noticed a small shape at the bottom of the gully.

It was Janis.

She wasn’t moving.

Janis

“Mom?”

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes with my clenched fists, groaning as the exhaustion in my muscles flared up. I tried to sit up on the bed, but both my mattress and pillow seemed to have turned into stone during the night. I fumbled in the dark, looking for the switch on the lamp on the bedside table, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. Then, when I finally opened my eyes, I saw daylight and rocks and plants I didn't recognize. That’s when it hit me.

I wasn’t home.

And this wasn’t Earth.

I only noticed the noise that had awakened me when it returned again, louder this time. I could hear small pebbles and stones sliding down the side of the gully, some of them even landing at my feet, and I looked up to see a hulking figure slowly making its way toward me. Its movements were mostly hidden by the thick underbrush that covered the slope, but I was pretty sure there was something out there.

Or could I be hallucinating?

I had spent most of the night awake, terrified some strange creature would crawl over me, but my body had finally given up after a few hours of unbridled terror. Even so, my mind had refused to give me any rest, the nightmares populating my subconscious mind coming alive in the dark.

“Who’s there?” I cried, adrenaline flooding into my bloodstream. It overwhelmed me completely. Nausea washed over me. I reached for the wooden stick I had kept next to me all night, a makeshift weapon I had intended to use on any predators that might try to turn me into a midnight snack, and raised it up. “I can see you! Who’s there?”

“It’s me,” I heard a familiar voice say, and by now I was pretty certain that I had to be hallucinating. I narrowed my eyes, focusing on the figure as he vaulted over a small rocky ridge. What in the world was he doing out here?

He breathed out with relief once his gaze found mine, and he made a straight line toward me. Without a moment’s hesitation, he knelt next to my prone body, his eyes scanning for wounds.

“Are you okay, Janis? Are you hurt?”

Nadan’s figure was almost hypnotizing, his chiseled features popping out even more in this light. More than that, the corded muscles rippled under his shirt, making them seem even more imposing than they already were. Part of me wanted to be relieved but, instead, I screamed.

After all, this had to be a hallucination.

“You’re not real!” I cried out, trying to kick him away from me with my free leg. “You’re not here!”

“Of course, I’m here,” he said, leaning back to avoid being hit by my kicks. His tone was so gentle I felt a sense of coolness wash over me. Somehow, I relaxed, unable to do anything other than trust him. “I’ve been looking for you, Janis. All day and all night.”

Without waiting for me to say anything, he reached for my trapped leg and started digging out my ankle. Once it was free, he massaged the bruised and swollen flesh with his fingers, trying to see if I had broken any bones.

I groaned as the circulation increased to my ankle.

“Can you put some weight on it?”

“Give it a minute,” I whispered, breathing through the pain. He carefully massaged the tissue, helping the blood flow and the swelling recede. I breathed ragged breaths as the pain lessened. After fifteen minutes or so, my breathing slowed to a far more normal pace.

“Can you try to stand now?” Nadan’s gentle voice irritated me far less than I had expected. I rotated my ankle a few times, testing my range of motion.

“I think so.” I awkwardly pushed myself to my feet. My ankle felt sore and bruised, but it seemed like I’d still be able to walk. I nodded and distinct relief washed over his face.

“Excellent.”

“Thank you, Nadan. I thought that I was going to die out here. But…” I hesitated, not sure how to ask it without sounding like an ungrateful idiot. “What are you doing out here?”

“King Dojak wanted me to come and find you. It’s dangerous out here, Janis, and everyone’s worried about you. That’s why I’m here. If you think you can mount your numa, I think we can make it back to camp in a couple of days.”

I opened my mouth to reply but ended up clamping my lips shut. Go back? Panic crawled into my gut at the thought. I shook my head.

“I’m not going back,” I finally said, the words slipping out from between my lips before I could even process their meaning. It was as if my subconscious madness had shed its skin, slowly taking over me. “I really can’t. I’m going to find the Sun Stone.”

It was the only explanation I could offer, and I felt foolish as soon as the words were out of my mouth, but I just knew I couldn’t go back to the camp. I just couldn’t face the real world anymore. More than that, I was terrified to face it.

“The Sun Stone, Janis?” Nadan whispered carefully, then he went quiet for a moment.

See? He thinks you’re crazy, chasing after a fairy tale. “I’m sorry,” I whispered back, “but I just can’t go back.”

“Alright,” he finally said, a thin smile spreading across his full lips. “I won’t make you go back, Janis, if that’s what you really want. I have one condition, though—you’ll have to let me travel with you. I have numas, supplies, and survival skills.” His smile widened, as much as the gentleness in his voice grew. “Not only that, but I also have a tent.”

“A tent?”

“That’s right,” he replied. “Now, I haven’t gotten any sleep, and I think you probably didn’t get much either. So, what do you say we set up that tent and try to get some sleep?”

“It’d be nice to rest,” I admitted as the exhaustion permeating my entire body dragged on my limbs. I raked one hand over my face and stifled a yawn.

“The numas are close by. It was hard to get them down here, the gully is steep. We’re really very fortunate you were not hurt any worse. I saw the trail of your slide. It must have been terrifying,” Nadan said. “I know you’re probably not a fan of this place, but here we’re sheltered from the wind and other creatures. It doesn’t look like it’s going to rain, either, so we’ll be safe down here for a while.”

He stood and turned, walking further into the gully. I hobbled after him. I may not have permanent damage to my ankle, but it’d been through an ordeal. After a few steps, the stiffness in the joint began to ease. I followed him to a flat area nearby where some large stones had been smoothed by weather and time.

Three numas laden with supplies stood in the clearing, their lead ropes tethered to a spike driven into the ground to the side of them.

“I wanted to send a message back to the camp and tell them we’re okay, but…” He pulled a shattered personal communicator from a saddlebag. He shrugged his shoulders, then put on a brave face. “Well, I dropped it bringing the numas down into the gully. I wanted to get to you faster, but I couldn’t leave them up top. There could have been predators attracted by their smell, or the smell of our supplies. Or they could have wandered off with our supplies or tried to follow me and slid down an unsafe path.” He shrugged again.

“I would never have thought of that.”

Nadan glanced at me and smiled. “We all make mistakes. We’ll just have to do the best we can.” He tossed the broken device inside one of his bags and pulled out a waterskin.

“You should drink.”

I sipped the cool water as he grabbed a folded tent from the back of another numa.

He worked quietly but efficiently, erecting his tent in no more than two minutes. He padded its bottom with blankets, and folded two of them to be used as pillows. Then he unloaded the supplies, stashing them to one side of the tent.

“Can I help?”

He smiled at me again. His smile warmed me—in a way I had never experienced before. His mere presence calmed me, in fact.

“Sure. Follow me.” We walked over to the numa. “It would be cruel to leave the numa packed like this, so we will have to remove their harnesses and give them a quick scrubbing to keep their hides in good shape. This gully is too steep here to get them back up, so it may be a while before we can find a path out for them.”

Carefully, he showed me how to unhook the various parts of the harnesses. I followed along with my numa, who I was relieved to see in good shape. I had worried about her in the darkness of last night. In very little time, all four numas were unladen, their bridles replaced with loose halters and lead ropes Nadan secured to the tethering spike.

“Now, we scrub them to remove any dirt and damaged scales.” He grabbed a handful of small gravel from the ground and scrubbed his numa’s hide. She leaned into his hand like a dog. I mimicked him, giggling when my numa leaned into me the same way.

Any lingering tension drained from me as we worked. Focusing on caring for the numa—and Nadan’s gentle, caring nature—soothed the harsh voice in my mind who had tormented me since the ship went down. I shied away from the memory, not ready to confront it. In place of thinking, I scrubbed every inch of my numa, focusing entirely on her.

Soon, there was no inch of her hide unscrubbed and I sighed as exhaustion dragged at my body.

“You took care of her well. You must be exhausted by now. Please take the tent and rest. We will need to pack up and move on soon enough,” Nadan suggested, and I nodded in response.

I crawled inside the tent, barely believing my luck, and sunk into the blankets with a happy sigh. For the first time in days, I felt safe.

“I’m going to keep watch,” Nadan said, peeking inside the tent and shifting his weight awkwardly. “You can rest and—”

“You need to rest, too,” I cut him short, patting the empty blankets beside me. I could tell he was hesitant about sharing the tent with me, but I couldn’t have him roughing it outside while I slept comfortably. “Please, Nadan.”

He gave me a nod, and quietly slipped inside the tent and closed it behind him. He knelt beside me and gently covered me with a blanket. Only then did he lie down and stretch out.

“Thank you, Nadan,” I whispered, my eyelids already weighed down by approaching sleep. “Had it not been for you—”

“You don’t need to thank me,” he whispered back. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Janis.”

Somehow, I believed him.

I really did.

Then the sound of his steady breathing lulled me to sleep.

Nadan

I stretched my hands to the fire, watching as the flames lapped at the bottom of the pot, the scent of stew wafting in the air. It was still early in the day, but I figured Janis would need a warm meal after yesterday’s excitement. We had both been so exhausted last night, neither of us had remembered to eat before giving in to sleep.

The Sun Stone. Janis was looking for the Sun Stone. I didn’t know what I felt. Relief? Chagrin? I had been the one to tell her the tale, after all. But seeing the look of purpose on her face was so much better than that empty look of despair. If a quest was what she needed to feel whole, then I would help her.

I heard movement from inside the tent. Just a few seconds later, Janis’s head poked out from between the flaps, locks of her bedraggled hair tumbling across her face.

I remembered the way she had pressed herself against me while she slept, the warmth of our bodies blending. Right then, I had wanted nothing more than to hold her tight, but I resisted those urges and kept my arms to myself.

Stifling a yawn, Janis crawled out from the tent. She patted her pants to try to smooth out the creases, finger-combed her hair, and rose to her feet.

“That smells delicious,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. Her eyes went to the fire at first, but it wasn’t long before her gaze flew across our little camp. I could tell she did it out of habit, as if she had trained herself to constantly scan her surroundings for threats. “Thank you.”

“You must be hungry.” I offered her what I hoped to be a warm smile, but Janis was no longer paying attention. She sat next to the fire on top of a flat boulder, and had her knees tucked underneath her chin. She looked straight into the dancing flames, their bright colors flashing in her eyes. In that moment, she looked more beautiful than ever.

“This reminds me of when I was younger.” I looked up at the clear skies above, thinking of how many times I had slept underneath them. “I used to travel in a caravan, you know? My father was a merchant, and he was always traveling between Tahkath and Lukadia. He met my mother during one of those travels, actually—”

The sound of footsteps on the scree at the side of the gully interrupted my story. I instinctively reached for my axe. It sat on a nearby rock, the handle facing me just in case I needed to act quickly. Thankfully, this wasn’t one of those times.

Naro jumped out from behind a large clump of bushes, quickly making her way toward me. A limp haru hung from her jaws, blood trickling from the reptile’s bent neck.

“What the—?” Surprised by Naro’s sudden appearance, Janis stumbled down from her boulder and screamed, scrambling away from the overexcited tayn.

“It’s just Naro,” I explained while I patted the hound’s head. “She’s the finest Royal Hunting tayn to ever grace King Dojak’s personal kennel. And she’s just brought us what we needed to turn this stew into a real meal.”

“Why didn’t I see her before?” Janis held her hand over her heart, her eyes wide as plates.

“She was checking the perimeter while we were unpacking the numas. She must have come back after we had already gone to sleep.” I scratched Naro behind the ears as she placed the dead haru at my feet. “She was curled up with the numas when I got up and I asked her to find us something to eat.”

Naro plopped down, quite proud of what she had done. She rolled around in the gravelly dirt, polishing her scales.

Janis eyed the hound warily, but she had calmed.

“She’s that well trained?”

“Oh yes. Naro is a good girl. Very smart.” Janice sat back up on the boulder, never looking away from Naro.

“And she wouldn’t have preferred to sleep in the tent?”

“No, she’s trained to sleep with the numa to protect them from night predators.”

A warm expression softened Janis’s face. “We have animals like Naro. Well, mammals like her called dogs. There’s a breed called the Afghan who can grow very long hair. They were bred for much the same purpose. From what I’ve read, they are very independent, making them difficult to train.”

That gave me some hope. Whatever mental prison Janis found herself locked in, at least now I knew there were enough gaps in it for some sunshine to shine through.

I wanted to reach out and ask her about it, eager to know more about the demons she kept hidden from sight, but it was still too soon. I would have to wait till Janis was ready to tell me on her own.

She reminded me of those scared animals mistreated enough to distrust the world in which they found themselves. As it was with them, I knew that I had to be patient.

Too much, too soon, and she’d withdraw back into herself.

“Dog? Sounds like a strange word to me. Do dogs hunt, too?” I asked as I peeled the scales off the haru.

Janis nodded. “Some of them. There are many different kinds. Naro is about the size of a breed we call a Great Dane. They were bred to hunt bears, I think.”

“What is a bear?” I tossed most of the cleaned haru into the pot.

“Oh, right. Bears are very large mammals. Very dangerous. There are several kinds, but they can get larger than the biggest D’Tali.”

I cleaned my knife and pulled out my whetstone. With careful motions, I honed the blade. “Such a strange concept for me, mammals which grow so large.”

Janis barked a small laugh. “They are not even the largest mammals.” I smiled at her laugh. A small victory, that laugh, but a victory, nonetheless. “The largest mammals are blue whales. They swim the oceans and are longer than Amber’s Rover.”

I laugh. “A mammal so large sounds like a children’s story to me. I’ve never seen a mammal much larger than a haru. They must be magnificent.”

“I’ve never seen one in the wild. The haru is about the size of a rabbit. The numas are like an animal we call a horse.”

I tossed Naro the portion of haru I had held back while the stew simmered.

“You have a lot of experience with dogs?” I stood and gave our four numas some feed and water.

“Not really. I never had the chance to have one. But I always wanted one. I read a lot about them when I was younger.” Janice fell quiet, her eyes growing distant. Time to change the subject.

“Why do you want to find the Sun Stone?”

She gave me a sidelong look. “On Earth, when we have stories like the one you told me, often it’s because they were passed down oral histories about real life events. It’s possible your people had technology and somehow lost it.”

“Why wouldn’t we have records, though?”

She shrugged. “A cataclysm like an earthquake. Sickness that took all the elders. Any number of mass casualty events that disrupted your society to the point where they lost access to their technology and their history. Or maybe an advanced civilization had contact with your people, and the Sun Stone was the remnants of that.” As she spoke, her voice warmed and her eyes took on a sheen. “There are so many possibilities. We won’t know until we find where your people came from and begin to excavate.”

“You seem convinced.”

She nodded. “It’s an educated guess. I’m sure you have more stories you can tell me as we travel. There are usually patterns in the lore. Do you know what it could mean if there is a lost solar-powered tech of some kind?”

I nodded slowly, needing time to process her words and dig through my memories for the remnants of tales I’d been told when young, and returned to the stew. The meat fell from the bones.

“I think this is ready.” I dished out two bowls, handing one to Janis. I sat cross-legged in front of her, the bowl of stew balanced on my right knee. She tore into the food as if she hadn’t eaten for days—which probably wasn’t that far from the truth.

We ate mostly in silence, and I used that time to take in our surroundings. I had already investigated the gully before the crack of dawn, but to see it during the daytime only confirmed my suspicions.

The gully was quite deep and the sides steep. There was no way the numa would be able to climb out of this hole. I had already risked them enough by pushing them down here, and it was a miracle none of them had stumbled and broken a limb. Hauling them back up would be impossible without a proper crew and equipment.

I could scale the sides and get myself out, but I would have to leave Janis, Naro, and the numa behind. It would take me four times as long to backtrack to camp on foot. Janis would be here alone the entire time. I realized nothing could make me leave her that long again. I felt the certainty of that in the very core of my being.

“I know where you want to go,” I finally said, putting my empty bowl aside and turning my attention to Janis, “but we’ll have to make it out of this gully first. The numas came down, but I don’t think they’ll be going up the same way. We have to find another path out of here.”

“Can’t they climb up?” she asked, offering our numas a sideways glance to appraise their strength.

“Not really.” I shrugged. “The strain on them would be too great, at least in this particular spot. If the walls of this gully become less steep up ahead, then maybe. They have to carry the supplies. The load on them was a little easier coming down. Taking them back up is a much different story.” I pursed my lips. “If I had a crew to haul them up, we could be out of here in less than an hour or so, but since it’s just you and me…”

“You’re the only one who came for me?” She leaned forward slightly.

“I’m the best tracker in Tahkath,” I replied. “And the fastest. I didn’t want to wait for anyone else, in case you were hurt, and bringing more people would have slowed me down. King Dojak offered to summon a group of special operatives from the city but, again, I just didn’t want to wait.”

She shifted uncomfortably, and I couldn’t tell if the answer I had given her was the one she wanted. I cleared my throat and, after putting the fire out, rose to my feet.

“Taking the time to put together a rescue party would have put me too far behind,” I continued, stretching my back. “Had I not arrived when I did, you could’ve died down here.”

“I know,” she said meekly, looking down at her feet. She seemed so uncomfortable in her own skin she couldn’t even hold my gaze. I had to tread lightly. “It’s a good thing it was just you, though.” Slowly, she finally raised her eyes, her lips pressed into a straight line.

For the first time since I had met her at the bottom of this ravine, there was a semblance of determination in her face. “If there were more than you, they’d just try to make me go back, or even force me to.”

“Janis, I—”

“I’m not going back,” she cut me short, her voice fully armored. “Unless I have the Sun Stone. And if I don’t find it, I’m not going back ever.”

Janis

Nadan rode ahead, his broad shoulders loose, his hips swaying in rhythm with the gait of his numa. He was a far better rider than I’d ever be. My body jerked with each step my numa took. My thighs were raw and chafed, and my body was so sore it felt like someone had beaten me with a lead pipe.

Nadan, though, seemed even better at this than the other D’Tali. He had a sixth sense when it came to the creatures of this world, and he was capable of understanding them in a way which spoke of years of experience. Then again, that’s why he was the Royal Beast Master.

He insisted on riding first, so he could watch for hazards and predators. I was more than happy to let him take the lead. After my stupid fall into this gully, I didn’t trust myself enough to keep watch. Well, when can you trust yourself? More likely than not, you would just lead us all into a deeper hole and an early grave.

Besides, the Wastelands, as Nadan had called them, made me feel pretty uncomfortable.

Now I was no longer delirious enough to believe I could live in a cavern by a stream, I was more attuned to the ebb and flow of life out here. While before I could only hear silence, now I could make out the scurrying of small animals, and even the vibrations of the ground below us as the numas trudged on.

It was worse during the night.

The Wastelands truly came alive when the shadows enveloped the world, the howling and screeching of wild creatures cutting through the air. This was an unforgiving land, where only the strongest could survive. Maybe that was why you came here, Janis—you aren’t strong. You sought out a place to die.

I deliberately relaxed my hands and shoulders, and eased the hold I had on the reins, ignoring the voice. This journey had a purpose, and the voice was a liar. No one weak would choose the trek we were currently on. The numas were moving at a slow pace, mindful of putting any undue stress on their bodies, making it easier to trust them. We were in no hurry. It was better this way.

Nadan had explained to me that the faster one rides a numa, the greater the physical strain put on them, which might lead to a greater chance of wearing the beasts out or their breaking a leg on poor footing. At the bottom of this gully, rocky soil and flat bushes covered the ground. So much underbrush made it hard to see what lay beneath.

Leaning forward, I scratched my numa behind its ears. The creature snorted audibly. Whether that was from happiness or annoyance, I didn’t know. While most of the girls had grown accustomed to these lumbering creatures and enjoyed riding them every chance they got, I still felt uneasy around them. I couldn’t even tell the males from the females.

“How are you holding up back there?” I heard Nadan ask, and looked up. He had twisted in his saddle, looking back at me with a gentle smile.

“So far, so good,” I said, hoping that he would just nod and keep on looking straight ahead. He only agreed to accompany you because he knew you couldn’t make it by yourself and King Dojak made him come find you.

Nice try, I said. He could have dragged me back. And you can’t make anyone treat you with kindness and respect. He does.

It had been a long time since I’d had anyone look after me. The voice obviously didn’t like me talking back. There was a small, ugly silence, then it tried again. Sure, the girls are kind and helpful, but no one really cares. He wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t been ordered to find you.

I sighed loudly. Nadan glanced back at me with a quizzical look but I shook my head. Thankfully, he did exactly what I wanted him to do and focused on the path ahead. I closed my eyes momentarily, building another brick in my wall of truth, and only opened them back up when I heard a scurrying sound coming from underneath my numa. I glanced to the side to see Naro trotting beside my mount, her tongue lolling.

“Hey, girl,” I whispered, and she let out a sibilant, happy sound. Had I not been perched atop a numa, I would’ve probably reached out and tried to pet her. I smiled at her happy antics. She’s only happy to see you because she’s a happy soul. She’d be just as happy were you not around. I had to roll my eyes. That was such a weak attempt. Why shouldn’t Naro be just as happy when I wasn’t around?

Naro trotted up ahead, always listening and sniffing around. She seemed to be as mindful of her surroundings as Nadan.

“You know,” I heard Nadan say, but this time he hadn’t turned back, “you missed quite the feast back at the camp. King Dojak and I hunted down a pretty big pafu and, I’ll tell you, the cuts we brought back were some of the best I ever saw. Have you ever had pafu before?”

“Once,” I replied. Such a normal conversation felt strange. “Back at the palace. I think it was during Sofia’s wedding. Or, you know, the mating ceremony.”

“That was ages ago,” he exclaimed. “Did you like it?”

“It was okay.”

I decided it best to retreat into a comfortable silence, and so I tried giving Nadan short replies. That didn’t work. Either he didn’t take the hint, or he refused to take it.

“I’ve been thinking all day about the giant mammals you told me about. The blue whales you mentioned sounds like a monster. Do they attack? How do you sail ships with such a beast roaming your oceans?”

“Luckily, they’re peaceful. They do eat other creatures, but only the tiniest of creatures. They scoop millions of them into their giant mouths.”

“The largest mammal eats the tiniest mammals?”

“Not exactly, they eat krill, which are crustaceans, not mammals.”

“What are crustaceans?” I blew out a lungful of air trying to figure out how to explain.

“That is hard to explain. They are a kind of animal that wears a shell and most of them live in water. If I can think of a better way to explain, I’ll let you know.” We rode in silence for a while, and I thought he would leave me in peace. I was wrong.

“When I traveled with my father’s trade caravan, I saw many things and met many different people. Lukadians, D’Tali, many others. Their stories always fascinated me.” He turned in his saddle, smiling. “So far, your stories of Earth mammals are the best. Would you tell me more about Earth?”

I held the reins so tight my numa tossed its head, trying to pull some slack.

“I know I talked about… Earth before, but it’s difficult.”

Nadan eased up on his mount, falling back next to mine. “How so?”

The hole inside of me opened wide, threatening to drag me down into it. I blinked, trying to form a sentence I couldn’t hate myself for. Nadan looked at me, face falling with my grief. Did he… care?

“You miss it.”

“Yes.” The word escaped my lips in a whisper before I could stop it.

“I am listening, Janis.”

“I thought that, if the ship worked, there’d be a chance for me to get back home.” I blinked back unbidden tears. “But that was foolish. The moment the ship crashed, it crashed right on top of all my hopes. I’m never going back to the life I worked so fucking hard for.”

I felt anger and desperation clawing from the hole inside. My vision tunneled. Surprisingly, Nadan’s voice kept me anchored to reality.

“What are the things you miss the most?”

I blinked as my vision blurred with unshed tears.

Here I was, close to having a meltdown, and he remained perfectly calm, his tone even more soothing than before. I could hear the compassion and understanding in his voice.

“Toilet paper,” I blurted out. “God, you have no idea how much I miss having a roll of toilet paper.”

“Toilet paper?” He cocked one eyebrow up. “What’s that?”

“Well,” I started, unsure how to explain. “It’s a roll of paper that you keep in the bathroom.”

“Humans go to the bathroom to read?”

I laughed. “Not exactly. When humans go into the bathroom to do their business, they use the—”

Naro huffed in alarm. She crouched in the tracks up ahead, right before a bend in the path. The scales on her back bristled. She growled

I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, Nadan made a gesture to remain silent. Judging by the expression on his face, whatever was going on wasn’t good.

Keep it together, Janis, I told myself, but I already felt adrenaline rushing into my bloodstream. My heart hammered against my ribcage. Fear overtook me. Keep it together.

Nadan

I felt the steadiness of my heartbeat, the slight tension settling on my shoulders. I let myself become attuned to my surroundings—the dusty air, the nervousness of the numas, the eerie silence. Naro growled low. Her claws dug into the soil as she readied herself.

I tightened the reins, bringing my numa to a halt.

I reached behind me, ran my fingers over the smooth wood of my bow, but hesitated. The gully widened here and the walls were covered in thick brush. Gnarled branches jutted in every direction, rendering my bow fairly useless. Instead, I went for my axe, tightening my fingers around its polished handle and bringing it around.

Naro’s growl turned into a furious hiss. Something scrabbled in the bushes up ahead, snapping twigs. Whatever was coming was big.

I gritted my teeth as the sounds grew closer. My blood simmered in my veins. The gully may have widened here, but it remained narrow enough to prevent us from circling the hidden creature. Naro’s hisses, huffs, and growls told me the creature must be a predator. I dismounted, handing the reins to Janis.

“Tie these to your saddle on the ring,” I instructed, pointing at the spot on Janis’s saddle. “Stay on your mount as best you can, they will try to bolt.”

A thick branch snapped, echoing throughout the gully. A second later, a massive creature emerged from the bend in the path. Taller than me and twice my width, scales covered its gray body. Bony scales resembling armor ran down its back and limbs. Jagged teeth as long and sharp as daggers protruded around its elongated maw. Two eyes sat atop its head, yellow irises narrowing as they fell upon me.

Valanx.

I tightened my grip around the axe’s handle so hard I could almost feel my bones groan under the pressure. A valanx was never a good creature to encounter. Their armored bodies made them hard to kill, and their vicious nature spelled death for anyone in their path. I remembered being a kid, sitting around the campfire while travelers told tales of entire caravans decimated by a single valanx.

The valanx opened its toothy maw and roared, spittle flying. The numas shivered and pranced, tossing their heads. I heard Janis trying to soothe them, fear tightening her voice.

“Naro, flank,” I commanded. Naro slowly circled to the right, eyes locked on the murderous giant blocking our path.

With another roar, the valanx went down on all fours and rushed down the gully straight at us, its sharp teeth gleaming. I bent my knees as I drew the axe over my shoulder, and clenched my jaw.

“Come on,” I growled, the simmer in my veins turning into a furious roil.

Nearly atop me, the valanx reared, reaching out with its massive claws. I sidestepped, swinging my axe at its more vulnerable underbelly. The valanx swung its tail as it tried to pivot to follow me. The tail whipped across my chest, sending me flying. I crashed against the gully’s wall like a boulder thrown against a fortress.

Naro leaped at the valanx’s blind side, biting deeply into the beast’s hind leg. The valanx roared in fury, turning back with a furious twist. I jumped to my feet, rushing in. The monster’s jaws snapped at Naro, but she was too quick, releasing its leg and jumping back.

Racing past its exposed side, I ducked under its head and brought the axe up, slicing into the unprotected, unarmored skin under its jaw.

The creature let out an angry growl and swung back toward me, the axe stuck in its thick jawbone. It snapped at me, but the axe had severed enough tendons that the valanx couldn’t get a good bite of my arm. Its sharp teeth still lacerated my flesh, drawing a cry from my throat.

Naro darted in again, viciously shredding the tendons on the beast’s back legs. The valanx roared, pulling back its head in pain. Its back legs collapsed. Naro danced out of the way, returning quickly to add as much damage as she could.

The axe hung in the valanx’s exposed throat. I kicked the blade into its body with my foot.

Two sharp teeth exploded out from the valanx’s jaw, purple blood bursting from its mouth. The axe flew, dislodged from the beast’s broken jaw. Again, it struck at me with its tail, this time hitting me straight in the ribs. Pain exploded in my chest, but I gritted my teeth and ignored it.

The valanx crawled toward me with a furious hiss, its lower jaw dangling. I tried to reach for my axe where it had landed in the hard scrabble, but the beast’s head swung too fast. A loud hiss issued from the valanx. It jerked its head back over its shoulder. Naro shook her head, snarling, her teeth sunk into the monster’s tail.

Rolling to the side, I grabbed my axe and swung it down in a violent arc. I put all my strength behind my shoulders and hips. Pain shot up my arm. I aimed for the valanx’s mouth, where the ruined jaw hung, exposing the delicate, unarmored tissues.

My axe cut through sinew and muscle, slicing into the great beast’s throat. The creature looked up at me, its eyes wide. I pulled my axe from the valanx’s throat and swung it again. And again. The valanx’s head crashed to the ground, its body shuddering.

I hacked until the foul beast lay inert at my feet, a river of purple, gooey blood pouring from its throat and pooling at my feet. Naro released its tail, panting from her exertions.

“Janis,” I cried out, my chest heaving, trying to steady myself as I looked down the gully. “Are you okay?”

She poked her head from behind one of the numas, her disheveled hair tumbling over her face. All color had left her cheeks; she was as pale as fresh milk.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled. “I didn’t think I could stay on top of my numa, so I hopped down to hold the reins. But that’s not important. I mean…” She shook her head, looking down at my bloodied shirt, and pursed her lips. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Janis tethered the numa to a nearby bush. Slowly, she made her way toward me, careful to avoid touching the dead valanx’s body. Within seconds, she was on me, forcing me to sit down on a nearby boulder.

“No, you’re not,” she said, a sliver of strength appearing in her voice. “Look at your arm!” She knitted her eyebrows together, looking at the nasty gashes. The blue tones of my skin had become deeper around it, telling me that I’d be sore for a couple of days. “That looks awful. Wait here. And don’t move.”

Before I could say a thing, Janis rushed back to the numa. She returned moments later, carrying a canteen, a clean cloth, and a few bundled up bandages. Kneeling beside me, she started cleaning the wound, using the water to wash away the blood.

She touched me.

Her fingers brushed against my bruised skin. I felt thunder and lightning shoot up my arm to my spine. A pleasant warmth spread across my chest, and a tingling sensation numbed my body from head to toe. She looked up at me, her lips slightly parted. I was almost sure she had felt it too.

Janis

By the time I managed to get most of the blood cleared away, the sky was already starting to darken. Not only that, but I’d managed to burn up a fair bit of our water supply. Real smart, Janis. Who knows how long we’re gonna be out here, and you just go splashing it around.

To be fair, I had to see how bad the wound was. The last thing I needed was for Nadan to be hurt worse than he was letting on. It seemed like a strain of almost foolhardy pride ran through all those D’Tali men. Thankfully, Nadan was more reasonable than some I’d seen.

“What are you thinking?” he asked as I finished bandaging him up. Something about the question sent a bolt of panic through my chest.

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” he said with a light shrug. “You just keep looking up at the sky.”

“Oh.” That’s reasonable enough. Why are you so goddamn jumpy? “It’s getting dark. We’re going to need to make camp soon.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

“But not here.” I looked over my shoulder at the dead valanx leaking blood into the soil. Naro was nosing around the carcass, looking for places to nip at it. “That thing could bring scavengers around. I’m not looking for midnight company.”

“Right,” he said. “Besides, the numas won’t settle down while we’re this close to it.”

I looked to where the numas still kicked at the turf. Even with that big beast lying dead, they hadn’t recovered from the whole show. I was still rattled myself.

“Alright,” Nadan said, easing past me. “Let’s see what we can do.” As he approached the mounts, he slowed his pace and held up his hands, humming low. The drone caught them off guard, and he stepped into their midst, grazing their scales with his fingertips.

They still pranced uneasily, but he kept calm and worked to steady them. The longer he stood among them, the more he was able to run his hands along their sides and get a grip on the reins. Then he looked back at me.

“Another set of hands would calm them even more. Show them there’s no danger.”

“Okay.” Am I nuts? Walking into the middle of those things is gonna get me crushed. Why can’t I have a little bit of backbone?

In spite of the voice raging inside my head, I walked right up next to him. The eye of our little hurricane throbbed with energy, but Nadan remained still and centered.

“Start with the tips of your fingers,” he said in a low rumble. “Just dust at the scales in long, lazy strokes.”

I reached out timidly at first and jerked back as one of the numas flinched at my touch.

“Easy,” he said. “If you’re calm, they’ll be calm. Confidence is key.”

Confidence. Right... Reaching out again, I planted a hand next to his and started tracing back along the shoulder. Long strokes, like painting a fence. They got used to my touch, and in short order, we were back in business. They weren’t ready to be ridden yet, but a full-on rampage looked a lot less likely.

“What now?”

“You take the reins on the one you rode out here. I’ll handle the others. If I can get mine to lead, the others should fall in step.”

Once he pulled the reins tight on his mount, it bucked just a bit again. But Nadan continued to hum, and we managed to get them well clear of the valanx. Once it was out of sight, they steadied considerably. Even so, I wanted to push further out. The thought of whatever critters were out here in the Wastelands had me on edge.

If another valanx appeared, it would make for a really lousy night.

We hadn’t gotten very far at all when he pulled his lead numa to a stop and started rummaging in his pack. Coming out with a long sharp knife, I felt a tiny prickle in my gut.

Fuck. You should know better than to trust anyone.

“Hey,” he said. “You think you can take the reins of these and wait here for me? They should be pretty docile by now.”

“Why? Where are you going?” He put a flint and steel on the ground.

“Back to the valanx. I’ll leave most of it for the scavengers, but I want to harvest as much as I think we can eat before it goes bad. Who knows when we’ll have access to food like that again?” He straightened up and looked at me. “Is that alright?”

I nodded slightly, and he stood there for a moment, regarding me with a curious look in his eyes. Then he turned and headed off the way we’d come. It was an oddly soothing beat of silence, but I was ill at ease being left alone.

So, this is the brave woman who was going to set off on her own? As soon as someone crosses your path, you’re like a kid again.

Stop it. I bit down hard and squeezed my eyes shut. It was just, with my history of desertion, it was hard to watch anyone walk away. Especially someone who seemed like they actually gave a damn about me.

Which, for whatever reason, he did. Or he seemed to.

I ran my hands over the sides of our mounts and tried to replicate the hum he’d made back there. To keep myself settled as much as anything else. Nadan was proving to be a remarkably reassuring presence. He had a quality that I couldn’t quantify, but I was actually in danger of feeling restful in his company.

Enjoying getting rescued by that D’Tali, huh? Isn’t that just like you? I shuddered against myself. ‘Enjoying’ may not have been the right word for it. ‘Safe’ would have been the way to describe how I felt in his company. Which only soured in my stomach more.

Don’t go trusting him. Every time you trust someone, you get fucked over. Don’t let that trick of settling these beasts get your guard down. He’s just here to drag you back to that goddamn Tahkath.

Which was true. That much I had to admit to myself. He hadn’t ridden out after me to bring me supplies and send me on my way. I’d remember that as I got all cozy with that alien.

A rustle in the foliage shrank my heart into a cold knot. The numas didn’t move, and I tucked myself among them against the arrival of some other monster. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I watched as Nadan stepped into view. Just the sight of him eased the thundering in my chest.

“Right where I left you,” he congratulated.

Tucked under his arm was a sizeable chunk wrapped in leaves. Naro trotted beside him, sniffing. I’d been so wrapped up in my own thoughts I hadn’t even noticed she had stayed behind. She seemed tame enough, but something about her still made me uneasy.

“That’s a pretty serious brisket you’ve pulled there.”

“By ‘brisket’, you mean this?” He pointed to the chunk he carried.

I nodded. “Sorry, brisket is a popular cut of cow back on Earth.”

“I got a good coating of salt on it, so it should keep. If we need to, I can freshen it up in the morning. It may cure on us a bit, but that’s not a bad thing.” He smiled and set to tying the parcel to his saddlebags. “What’s a cow look like?”

“Oh, uh… If we come across a good example, I’ll let you know. But that valanx? That thing was the size of an Earth bear.”

“Really? Did it look like an Earth bear?”

“Not really. Maybe if a bear and a crocodile had babies…” I shuddered.

“Do bears and crocodiles frequently have babies?”

I guffawed. “No, Nadan, they do not.”

By now, the sky had deepened into a rich, opulent purple with crimson edges. Now it was Nadan’s turn to scan the sky. His face wore a look of quiet caution, and he pulled a cloak from his pack, along with a mask. Shrouding himself, he mounted up again, and I followed suit.

“You will have to tell me about Earth crocodiles sometime.”

“I’ll have to draw you a picture… Crocodiles aren’t mammals. I think they’re the largest living reptile on Earth. I guess, the closest thing we have to a D’Tali.”

“Fascinating.”

Riding these things was a lot easier than walking them, so that was a blessing. Besides, I was grateful that we were going to put some real distance between us and the dead hulk we’d left behind. While Nadan got all his reins in order, I sidled up alongside him. He was just securing his mask. That done, he gave the numa his heels, and we set off.

The gully spilled out in front of us, and I didn’t relish picking our way through it in the dark. Just what you need is to get your neck broken.

“How much further are we going to push on?”

“Not far,” he said. “Just until the sun is down.” He tugged at his mask, as if securing it even further.

“Why do you do that?” I asked.

“What?” He looked at me as if he had been caught. It was just guilty enough to make my skin tingle.

“That. The mask and the cloak. Is that a nightly thing?”

“It is,” he said. Even though I couldn’t see his face, I could hear the hint of a smile in his voice. “Once we’ve made camp, I’ll show you. It’s not safe to do it now, but when we’re settled it can’t harm much.”

There was something cryptic in the way he said it that cut with two edges. On the one, it roused that little bit of suspicion which always lingered at the fringes of my mind. On the other, it piqued my curiosity. It’d been a long time since I’d wanted to know more about someone. Since I’d let myself want that.

As unaccustomed as I was to the sensation, I was going to let myself indulge in it—even if only for the moment.

Nadan

After the spark of Janis’s hands on my skin, I’d been doing whatever I could to keep from investing too much. Just because I wanted something did not mean it was so. Whatever suspicions I had about our connection needed to wait until I could be certain.

And yet, I could almost swear I had seen her register it as well. Even if it was only the faintest flicker. But maybe I was reading far too much into a fleeting moment.

The time I’d spent watching her might have tainted my senses. After harboring the notion that she might be my mate, I had to admit that I was susceptible to her touch. Having no notion of how the sensation of bonding might take hold of me, it was possible that I had merely responded to the feeling of her.

Though I had promised to ride only until sundown, I hadn’t seen a suitable spot to camp. Then, at last, we came up over a ridge and I saw down to a clearing just a short distance ahead.

“There,” I said, pointing. “We’ll make camp just ahead.”

She didn’t respond, but I felt her relief. Janis had put some serious time in the saddle since leaving camp. Not only that, but having been pinned the way she was when I found her, and encountering a valanx were bound to have taken their toll.

When we finally came to a stop, she let out a sigh as she slid from her saddle. There was the hint of a wince as she landed and I had to check myself from crowding her. Doubtless her ankle still hurt, but if I pursued too quickly, she might just bolt. Everything about her seemed mere inches from the wild. I couldn’t risk spooking her off into it again.

“Well,” I said as I fixed my numa’s reins to a low tree. She looked at me with just a hint of trepidation. “You asked about all this?” I gestured to my cloak and mask. “Would you like to see why I do this?”

“Should we build a fire first? I won’t be able to see…”

“Actually, you’ll see it better this way.”

In the moonlight, I saw her nod ever so slightly. Was she as nervous as I? The thought of revealing my shine to her sent shivers through me, and I had a hard time figuring out if they were excitement or fear.

I pulled at the fingers of my gauntlet. It slid away, and the faint blue glow of the bones shone under my skin. Her eyes went wide, and I drew off the other glove to reveal still more. Throwing back my cloak, the patterns of my Lukadian ancestry stood out against the dark.

At last, I pulled back my mask to uncover where the light was the strongest. It felt strangely revealing to show myself to her like this. It was oddly like being naked—vulnerable, yet open to her at the same time.

Almost on instinct, her hands rose as if to touch me. She took a step forward, reaching out as if I were some irresistible jewel. Then, catching herself, she stopped and half dropped her arms. Her eyes searched the luminous contours of my face, as if she was seeing me for the first time. Which, in a way, she was.

“May I…” From the sound of her voice, I could tell her mouth was dry. All I wanted to do was water it with my own. “May I touch you?” She was impossibly still, her voice nearly a whisper.

“Please,” I said, raising my arms and offering my skin to her. My heart raced in my chest. I almost shrank back from her in my fear. What if I was wrong? What if we weren’t bonded mates? The second her fingers found me, I would know the truth.

Gently, almost imperceptibly at first, the tips of her fingers brushed against my arms. All at once, the glow intensified and threaded out in a series of elaborate patterns across my skin. I could feel the prickling as the bond sign flickered over my face as well. It was neither bright, nor far, but it was enough.

Janis’s face broke into a wide, unguarded smile—the first I’d seen from her. A small gasp of laughter broke from her lips, and she touched me more deliberately to see if the display would happen again.

It did.

Everything inside me seemed to collapse and explode at the same time. The bond sign was faint, because I’m only a quarter Lukadian, but it was unmistakable. Irrefutable. I was destined for this wild, determined little human woman.

“What is that?” Her words were soft and full of wonder, as if she were ready to chase every trail flitting across my skin. Her face, when she wasn’t teetering on the cusp of vanishing, amazed me.

I opened my mouth, but my tongue locked in place. There was no way I could tell her. Not just then. After all the care I was taking to keep from scaring her, to have pushed her with the bond would have undone every moment of effort. The surest way to frighten her away would have been to confess our connection.

“That is a complicated answer.” Surely, she felt it, too? Something so obvious would have to evidence itself in her blood as well, wouldn’t it?

“I’ve never seen this before.”

She ran her fingers over my skin, and I almost closed my eyes to revel in the pleasure of her touch. Only the desire to see the unbridled joy on her face stopped me. Tracing all the way up one arm, she then started at the shoulder and rode down the other.

At each new curlicue, another laugh whispered out of her. I had to stop myself from offering her my head as well. It would have seemed too forward, but I was almost starving to feel her touch my face, to see delight shining in her eyes. The temptation to kiss her would have been too great.

“Why does it do this?” she said, keeping her eyes fastened to the tracers she was chasing. “I’ve never seen this with a D’Tali before. Besides,” all at once, her eyes flashed up to mine, and my heart slammed into my throat, “you don’t look Lukadian. I heard they glow.”

“They do,” I said. My voice was thick with need for her. “It comes from a life lived in the tunnels. But, for now, why don’t we make camp? I’ll tell you once things are settled.”

She nodded, and her hands drifted away from me. Even as they did, it was as though I could feel threads connecting us.

I turned to my numa. I had to. If I had stayed facing her, bereft of her touch, I was in grave danger of scooping her into my arms.

Instead, I dug into my pack, struggling to clear my head. Near the bottom, my fingers nudged against my steel and flint, bringing me back to myself.

“Tell me,” I said, turning to hold them out to her. “Do you think you could start a fire? I’ll try to get this valanx chunk cut into something we can roast. No doubt you’re hungry?”

“I am.” She reached out to take the proffered tools, and again I had to steel myself against her touch. After wanting it for so long, it had suddenly become profoundly dangerous. The surest way to betray myself was to surrender to those magnificent hands.

I turned back to my saddlebags and began to pull a few things together. Without looking, I could tell she hadn’t moved. She stood there, watching me. Maybe she was studying the blue light emanating from within me, but it was sorely tempting to imagine that there was something more behind her gaze.

“Nadan?”

“Yes?” I looked over my shoulder, to find her with a curious expression.

“Thank you for showing me.”

“Of course,” I said. “Once you get that fire started, I’ll tell you the story. Agreed?”

She nodded, breaking out into another one of those wide, rich smiles. After all the fear and hesitation she’d worn since I first laid eyes on her, that was welcome. A pool of warm gold gathered in the pit of my stomach, and my chest grew light. This felt very much like the first step toward her trusting me.

And if she trusted me, that could open the door to so many things. It was clear she was decisive, passionate, and independent—and deeply hurt. She wore pain on her skin as surely as if the memories had scarred her. If there was one thing I knew, it’s that I was determined to protect her, to pave the way for her.

If sharing a bit of my history gave her comfort, I would do it gladly. In the core of my heart, I hoped that it would inspire her to share some of herself, as well. My shoulders were broad enough to carry some of her load, and I was ready to do anything to smooth the ground before her.

Janis

I watched Nadan’s glowing frame move around the fire. Despite his wound, he performed every task with the beautiful efficiency borne of long experience. I appreciated that he’d given me jobs to do at all as we set up camp. He didn’t seem bothered that I’d only do them half as well as he would.

He gave you the easy tasks, Janis, as soon as you couldn’t start that fire on your own. Pretty hard to screw up gathering twigs and underbrush, or clearing the tent spot of rocks. Nadan has already picked up on how useless you are.

I rubbed my arms, pushing away the thought as best I could. Nadan smiled at me as he struck a flint to light the fire, and that helped. I knew it was silly to feel bad that I wasn’t good at camping, like him. He knew as much, and he’d been nothing but accommodating, never patronizing. Having completed my meager tasks, I sat near the fire.

Nadan got up, the fire already blazing merrily, and went to his saddlebags. I followed him with my eyes as he set up a makeshift spit. I thought it odd how much I loved looking at him. In the darkness, his luminescence should have made him look like a ghost. Instead, the light on his skin simply seemed to mirror the light he had inside—steady, unwavering.

“Will you tell me the story of your glow now?” I asked, then blushed. He’d gotten the chunk of valanx roasting, but I didn’t know if he had more to do.

You’re coming off as overeager and annoying, Janis. As always. He probably doesn’t even want to tell you the story. He was deflecting earlier.

“I’m glad to hear your interest hasn’t waned,” replied Nadan. The warmth in his eyes chased away my nasty inner voice. “I was about to ask if you still wanted to hear it. It’s a little piece of family history, and I know it might not be as compelling to others as it is to me.”

“I want to hear it,” I said, surprising myself with the certainty in my voice. “Besides… you’re a good storyteller, whatever you’re telling.”

“Thank you.” Nadan looked pleased and dipped his head in acknowledgement of the compliment. “Now, before I dive in, how much do you know about Lukadia?”

“Not much,” I admitted. “Ever since Amber and Torvok came back, everyone’s been talking about it. But I have enough trouble getting used to Tahkath, let alone another place…”

I trailed off. Why are you making excuses and whining about how hard everything is? The guy asked a simple question.

“Then let me paint you a quick picture of the Lukadian Open Market, which is where our story begins. The market is a sprawling, bustling place, from dawn until long after dusk. Hundreds of colorful shops cluster beneath and in front of a large arched cavern in a hill—Lukadia City, where few outsiders go.”

“That sounds spooky.” I made myself clarify. “A city in a cave, I mean.”

“Spooky?”

“Oh, um. Unnerving? A little scary?”

“Ah. I understand. The city itself is too lively to be spooky,” said Nadan. “But you’re right that when the pathways descend into the underground mine, it becomes unnerving. I’m getting ahead of myself, though!”

I propped my head on my chin, imagining the strangeness Nadan described. As he turned the chunk of meat over the fire, the smell of roasting valanx wafted under my nose, rich and enticing.

“My grandfather was visiting the open market for the tenth or twelfth time. He was a merchant and did business regularly with the Lukadians. In spite of so many trips, though, he always said on that particular visit, he took a minute to appreciate the charm of Lukadia. It was twilight, and both the cavern and the market’s many stalls were beginning to light up from the Lukadians inside them or from lamps visitors had brought with them.”

He smiled at me. “Our bones glow. Some say the Lukadian ancestors used to live out in the open long ago, but then we lived in caves for so long, we began to glow like the vap.”

“Vap?”

“It’s one of the Lukadians’ basic foods. It grows on the walls in the mines and gives off a soft glow. Don’t ask me how. Many scholars have posited theories over the years, but I’m no expert on vap. Maybe the vap’s glow is how we came to be able to learn to mine, but now, it grows fastest deep in the tunnels where we work by our own glow.”

I could almost see what Nadan described and felt myself being swept away by the story. It felt good to sink into his words.

“I could talk about vap forever, but that’s not today’s story. Today’s story is Gramps and Grams—my mother’s parents. Gramps was making his way through the booths when someone darted around a corner and slammed into him. Delicate wrought-iron jewelry scattered everywhere, as did the crystals Gramps had brought to trade. Standing there amidst so much glittering beauty, he looked up and saw the face of the person who had knocked him down. She was a Lukadian female, and they knew from the first moment they saw each other that they were mates.”

“That was my grandmother, Grams—the reason I glow.” An affectionate look crossed Nadan’s face, and I felt a dull ache in my stomach. I always wished I’d known my grandmother.

She would’ve been just like your parents, and not given a shit about you, reminded that voice in my head. The only reason she never let you down like them is because she was dead by the time your sorry ass was born.

“How did your grandparents know they were mates, just like that?” I asked, pushing myself to refocus on Nadan’s tale.

“Lukadians always know, they have a secret way to tell,” he told me. He hesitated, a look I thought might be nervousness passing over his face. It was gone in a second, though, as he continued. “That is a story for another time, though. At the moment, the important part is that Gramps and Grams had a girl child—my mother.”

Nadan pulled the meat off the fire and laid it on a bed of greenery. He carved a few slices off for me and passed them to me on a wide green leaf. The aroma wound around me and my stomach groaned. I began to eat as Nadan did the same.

“As in D’Tali, females in Lukadia are very rare, and daughters are considered blessings.” He picked the threads of his story back up, around bites of juicy valanx. “The two sides of the family argued a great deal about where my mother would grow up. Both sets of great-grandparents wanted this sacred girl child to know the culture they came from.”

That hurt in my chest flared up again. Nadan’s mother had not just one family that wanted her, but two? I wondered if she’d known how lucky she was, compared to someone like me, who’d had none. Although, thinking that made me feel disloyal to my adoptive family.

Sadness descended on me like a cloak. A memory came into my brain—the first time Mom hugged me, her delicate rose smell twining around us. That was the moment I knew they were going to let me stay.

I realized Nadan was gazing at me, his eyes searching my face. I couldn’t shake off the sorrow I felt, but I tried to give him a smile. I was enjoying his story, regardless of what it brought up for me.

“Where did your mother end up living?” I asked, to nudge him back on track.

“They finally worked out an arrangement where she spent equal time with each family, learning about both lands.” He laughed. “What they didn’t count on was that so much back and forth gave her a true wanderlust. My mother was always at her happiest on the road, although these days I think she’s growing more and more partial to Lukadia City.”

“Is that where she resides now?”

“She continues to split her time. Eventually, I think she’ll convince my father to stay in Lukadia permanently, though. Last time I saw her, she was disgruntled that she couldn’t jump a numa the way she used to, making the travel a lot less fun.” Nadan’s love for his mother shone on his face. Despite my heartache, his love for her touched me.

“Won’t that make you sad? Not having your parents in Tahkath?”

“I’ll visit them when I can.” Nadan shrugged. “I’m not so attached to the castle that I won’t wander a little myself. As may be apparent from my insistence on keeping company with you.” He winked at me and I felt my cheeks warm.

There was a rustling in the bushes, and Naro plunged into the space between us. I expected her to go right for the valanx meat in front of her, but I’d underestimated the tayn’s training. She waited, her head held high.

“Of course, you get some, Naro,” said Nadan, leaning down to hack off a piece from the roast. “The valanx might be eating us if it weren’t for you.”

He fed the tayn in small bites until her meal was gone. She snorted a little and turned in a circle. I was surprised when she laid down next to me and flopped her head in my lap. Her eyes rolled up towards me with a clear command—scratches.

I chuckled and obliged. I grabbed a handful of tiny gravel and scrubbed the scales along the ridge of Naro’s neck.

“May I ask why my story seemed to make you sad?” Nadan’s voice pulled my attention back to him. He looked genuinely concerned, and curious.

“My family life was complicated,” I said, trying to keep it simple.

“If you would want to tell me more, I would be glad to listen,” Nadan murmured. “Although I may not understand everything you say about Earth. It sounds like a crazy place to me.”

I looked at him, wondering why he’d want to know. In my musing, I stopped petting Naro for a minute. She immediately pushed herself further into my lap and nudged my hand, wiggling her muzzle underneath my fingers. That brought the ghost of a smile back to my face.

“Naro will listen, too,” Nadan urged. “I’ve always found her an excellent audience.”

“Okay…” I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get into everything, but I told myself I could stop at any point. Nadan wasn’t the type to pry.

Looking down at Naro, rumbling in satisfaction as I stroked her, I took a deep breath. Where to start?

Nadan

It broke my heart seeing Janis so unable to escape her misery. I could tell she liked the story of my grandparents, but the pull of something that seemed like grief was too strong. Perhaps as she told me her story, I would finally learn why she carried so much hurt and pain.

“I grew up in a bad neighborhood of an overall struggling Rust Belt city,” began Janis. “It’s a nice area now, but when I was a kid everyone was dirt poor.”

“Rust Belt?” I hesitated before asking the question, but I didn’t want to miss anything important. Besides, I’d noticed before that Janis found it easier to explain Earth details than talk directly about herself.

“Oh, right. Um…” Janis looked thoughtful. “It means the main economy of the city used to be manufacturing, but the demand for that went away for all sorts of reasons. Like… think Lukadia if suddenly no one wanted to buy metal from them.”

“That would be difficult indeed.” I nodded. “People would have to find other goods to trade to survive and some… would find that an impossible challenge.”

“Exactly. My birth parents were stuck in the middle of that and had me by accident. They didn’t have enough money to have a baby, but there I was anyway.”

I thought ‘birth parents’ was a strange phrase but decided to let that one go. Perhaps it would become clearer to me as Janis continued.

“I only spent the first eight years of my life with them, though.” Janis shrugged, masking a bitterness that flared behind her eyes. “They were convicted of meth distribution and put in jail, meaning I ended up in the foster system.”

‘Jail’ I understood, but meth? Foster system? I opened my mouth to ask, but Janis saw the confusion in my eyes first.

“Right, um…a foster system is this thing on Earth for children without parents, where the kid is given to a new family—a foster home.”

“Relatives do not take these children?” I tried to keep a frown off my face. No D’Tali child would ever go to strangers.

“Nope.” Janis pursued her lips, almost in anger. “Either there are no relatives that can be found, or they can’t afford the kid, or sometimes the relatives flat out don’t want the kid…”

“I see,” I interjected, wanting to change the subject as I saw Janis’s shoulders begin to hunch. “What about meth distribution? What is meth?”

“Oh, wow, of course. The D’Tali don’t even have the concept of drugs, do you?”

“Like Camilia’s drugs? Medical substances that address some imbalance or other bad thing in the body?”

Janis chuckled. It wasn’t a fully mirthful sound, but there was some amusement there. I was glad of that.

“Kind of like that, except these substances instead cause medical problems. People take them for fun, or to numb out from a bad situation, then they get addicted to them. Too much of these substances slowly destroy the human body, plus someone who’s an addict often devotes too much time and money to whatever drug they’re using. It becomes irrational, the need to get more.”

“That is an alarming situation,” I observed. Horror rose as I considered the ramifications of that terrible bondage to a harmful substance.

“Yep. And my parents made and sold the stuff. Meth is a kind of drug.”

“Oh.” Sadness flooded me as I imagined a young Janis growing up around that. “I’m sorry those ‘drugs’ were a part of your childhood.”

“I didn’t really get what was going on until later. My parents were doing what they thought they had to in order to put food on the table. They didn’t pay much attention to me, but they mostly kept me fed. That was something. I was lucky, not everyone in my neighborhood ate regularly.”

“That is truly awful,” I whispered.

My heart continued to constrict, hearing Janis speak of deprivation so easily. Under King Moffat, Aetamian children had suffered in such a way, but King Kator was already addressing all that. And certainly in Tahkath, such a thing would not be permitted to occur.

“Yeah. It was rough.” Janis shook off the cloud of memory that had descended upon her. “Anyway, once I was taken from my parents, I spent the next five years being passed from foster home to foster home. I went through seven of them, all told. There was always some reason I didn’t fit in. In my first foster family, it was that I didn’t do my chores well enough—chores that included cooking meals and doing laundry for a household of six by myself.”

“That is unacceptable,” I growled. “An adult should have been shouldering those burdens.”

“Yeah, I know that now,” said Janis, sighing. “At the time, though, I felt like a failure for not making my new family happy.”

“You could never be a failure,” I said, low and intense.

Janis snorted, as though my saying such a thing was ridiculous. I decided not to push, beginning to understand more about the troubles my mate carried.

“Well, sometimes it wasn’t anything like that. Some of the families didn’t like me, plain and simple. Their biological kids—the ones they gave birth to—didn’t get along with me, or I was too quiet, or not girly enough…”

Janis trailed off and I felt a dull anger of my own rise. How dare those people treat her that way?

“You were a child, not a doll for them to dress up and manipulate,” I growled. “Setting such specific expectations on a young one in need of a home is outrageous.”

She looked at me, surprise in her eyes. “That’s what my mom said, too!”

I cocked my head, confused again. Had Janis been reunited with her natural parents after this rotation of unreasonable people?

“I finally got a family that kept me,” Janis told me, noting my bewilderment. “The Rosenstocks. I was thirteen and had pretty much given up hope, nobody ever adopts teenagers. But they showed up one day and took me home. I didn’t trust them at all at first, but they were really patient and kind. They loved me.”

I noticed a telltale shimmer of tears in Janis’s eyes. Without saying anything, I reached out and took her hand.

“The Rosenstocks are my mom and dad. They supported me and paid enough attention when my science teacher told them I was the best in her class. Dad got me a chemistry set, and Mom found a series of biology classes I could sit in on at the local community college.”

Janis used her free hand to surreptitiously wipe at her face. Naro nuzzled her gently. Several of the words I didn’t know, but I dared not stop her now that her words flowed—carrying her pain with them.

“I ended up getting into a great college that Mom and Dad helped pay for. I studied archaeology and graduated with honors. My parents were so proud… and, when I decided to go to graduate school, they let me move back in with them to save money. They were beyond generous, they understood me, had faith in me… I can’t believe I’m talking about them in the past tense!”

She pulled her hand free of mine and buried her face in both her palms. I wasn’t sure what to do. Yet I wanted to know about this archa-thing, if it meant so much to her.

“Would you tell me about your studies? This ‘archaeology’ term is not known to me.”

“It’s hard to explain,” Janis said, her voice still muffled by her hands. “It’s the study of how people lived in the past. We dig up the ground to find old artifacts and documents to try and piece together our planet’s history. For instance, finding bones thousands of years old tells us what kinds of animals used to roam the earth. And we’ve uncovered entire civilizations and learned about people who are no longer living.”

She raised her head and I could see her love for this subject shining in her face.

“Studying archaeology, it’s… well it’s truth. The truth of where we come from, the fires that forged us. I could lose myself in reweaving the disparate strands and discovering the whole of who we truly are, and not just the limited microcosm of the present. We’re all greater than the battered boxes our lives shove us into.”

New tears sprang into her eyes. I put my hand on her knee, tentatively offering my support once more.

“And it was the one thing I was good at,” she said, her voice husky with sorrow. I felt her trembling beneath my touch. “Archaeology was my life. I dedicated everything to my studies and I was making such strides… I was still in grad school, but I was about to publish a significant research paper! People saw me as special and capable, for the first time in my life. My advisor told me I was already becoming a force in the field, and— and—”

A tremendous wracking sob tore through Janis’s slight frame, tearing through her last sentence. A second was wrenched from her throat, then a third.

“I’ll never be able to do any of that again,” she managed to say. “I worked so hard and focused for so long, all for nothing.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’ve lost the only thing I had… I lost the only people who loved me… forever…”

I could only just distinguish the words through Janis’s weeping. What I heard devastated me, and I was no longer able to hold myself apart from her. I moved closer and pulled her into my arms. Her limbs were unresisting, her body given over to the force of her grief. Crying shook her body like a leaf in a storm, but I did what I could to hold her together, tight against me.

Janis had lost so much. Yet… I didn’t think she was right in saying her parents were the only people that loved her. From the way my heart ached alongside hers, it seemed there was at least one other—me.

Janis

We sat in silence for a long time, Nadan’s arms around me.

It was a comfortable silence I wasn’t sure I had ever experienced. For a crystalline moment, all the rage and fear I held inside over the course of my life had drained from me with my tears. Against all odds, I felt at peace.

This is momentary. Don’t get too comfortable. All that shit will come rushing back when you’re not ready for it.

But you know what? I silenced that part of myself. I was ready to just sit here, in Nadan’s arms, in this rare moment of feeling…unburdened. I indulged in a deep breath, enjoying the emotional weightlessness inside me. As I sighed it out, I turned my tear-swollen face up to find Nadan watching me.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I reached for his arm and laid my fingers against his exposed skin. Streaks of light erupted over his forearm, crisscrossing over his corded muscles. Tracing my fingers up, I chased those glowing lines across his skin. With each caress, the warmth of his body seeped into mine.

Feeling comfortable with anyone was so foreign. When had been the last time I had felt this comfortable with anyone? I couldn’t remember. The patterns of lights running across his skin at my touch mesmerized me. I traced my fingers from his hand nearly up to his elbow, sending patterns streaking over him.

I shifted in his arms, realizing his body had stiffened, where moments before, his arms held me with such gentleness. He sat, his back straight as an arrow, his breaths soft and shallow. Moments before, he had been looking at me, but now his eyes were screwed shut, the lines on his face were deep creases, his head turned away.

I drew my hand back. “Are you in pain? Am I hurting you?” So much of my life had been spent either being hurt or hurting, I was terrified. Nadan had been so good to me. The last thing I wanted to do was inflict pain on him.

He shook his head. “No.”

I barely caught his soft reply. After a moment, he opened his eyes, the tension in his shoulders gone. Only when he looked at me, his entire expression softening, did I realize that he hadn’t been in pain at all. Far from it.

A rare desire danced in his eyes, etching itself deep on his face. I couldn’t look away from his intense gaze. The tight breathing hadn’t been from pain. No, he was trying to rein in his desire out of care for me—because he didn’t want to risk fracturing this moment.

I didn’t want him to rein that in. Surprisingly, I wanted the opposite.

I reached for him with both hands and cupped his face. Lights streaked over his face from my fingertips. He looked as if he might break from the force of his desire. My shallow breaths echoed his as I matched the rising passion in his gaze.

Looking deeply into his eyes, I pressed my body against his, closing the distance between us. The air charged with electricity as I pressed my lips to his, and a legion of butterflies took off inside my chest.

Every part of my body bloomed and unfolded, the sensation of his smooth lips almost too much. His lips parted, meeting mine with the gentlest of pressure. I closed my eyes to keep from sailing away in the pure joy of his touch. I still registered the glow of his skin as his entire body reacted to my touch.

“Janis,” he whispered against my lips.

“I’m right here,” I whispered back at him, placing both my hands on his chest.

“Thank the Ancestors for that.” His voice was low, husky. “Thank the Ancestors for you, Janis.” He tucked a light kiss in the prickling curve of my shoulder, making me breathe in deeply. He was so gentle and so perfect.

With light, inquisitive hands, he fretted down the side of my body until they finally settled on my hips. Ever so softly, he pulled me into him. Our kiss deepened and I melted into his embrace.

Easing over to straddle him, I placed both hands on his chest and gave him a little push, asking him with my touch to lie down. My blood thrummed in my ears, erasing any residual anxiety threatening to break the perfection of the moment.

Ever patient and mild, Nadan let me take the lead. Working on instincts I thought I had forgotten, I began to rock my hips over him, exploring the feeling and texture of his body. A distant fire began to crackle inside me. It felt good, better than good. Sweet sounds of pleasure escaped his lips.

I moaned against his lips as I felt something grow hard between his legs. Almost shyly, he made to pull slightly away, as if reluctant to push too far. The care in that gesture only made the awakening desire flare up more. Without thinking about what I was doing, I pressed myself against that hardness.

He wrapped me in his arms, his hard body, his strength impossible to ignore—dangerous and safe at the same time. Before long, the warmth that had taken over my chest trickled down, and I felt myself getting wet. It was a revelation, and my body answered with more.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” Nadan whispered. “Is that alright?”

“Yes.” As if waking from a long dream, my body remembered passion and desire. I reveled in my softness cradled in his strength. He trailed his fingertips down my back, pebbling my skin.

He threaded his fingers into my hair and pulled me into another kiss. My heart pounded against my ribs. His heart answered my own. When the kiss broke, I found his gaze again, and thought I might fall in. Answering the call inside me, I slid off him and lay back, offering him the sight of me.

Once I was fully reclined, I held my breath as I looked up at him. I stretched a hand to him, beckoning him to follow, to be with me. He crept over until he knelt between my legs. His chest rose and fell, and I could see how he worked to keep himself in check—to keep from taking me all at once. I could not only see just how much he cared about me, but also how much he wanted me as a woman.

“Janis…” There was so much fear in his voice. It lived directly in answer to all the anxieties that I had been carrying as well. I could hear his fear struggling with his desire in his strained voice. Heat bloomed anew between my legs.

“I’m right here,” I said again. Reaching up, I opened my shirt until my skin lay bare to him. My own breath heaved, drawing his eyes to my sternum and my breasts. The appreciation all over his face might be the sexiest thing I had ever seen. His cautious fingers caressed my flesh, my nipples hardening in anticipation of his touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, and I actually felt it. His thumb brushed against my right nipple, and a current ran through me. My back arched, deepening his touch. I needed his touch, more than anything. He leaned over until the warmth of his breath tightened my nipple even further.

“May I?”

“Please,” I rasped. “God, please.”

His tongue found me. I grasped his head, desperately pulling him to me. He tickled his tongue around my nipple until I thought I would burst right there. Then he wrapped his lips around it and took it into his mouth. Bright lights exploded behind my eyes and, in that moment, I felt new again. Whole. And yet, incomplete without him.

While his tongue danced around my nipple, he grazed one hand down the line of my body. At last, he rested his palm on the heat radiating from between my legs. Pleasure radiated in every direction. I dug my heels into the ground and pushed myself up against his hand, swaying my hips from side to side as he pressed against me more firmly.

I tugged at my waistband. He lifted his hand aside. The coolness rushing in where the heat of him had been was unbearable. Sliding down my pants, I pushed them below my knees until I was entirely bare. It felt perfect. He lifted his face to take me in.

His lips slightly parted, and he let his eyes wander down my body, his gaze finally settling on my eyes again. That may have been the most beautiful part of him—he wanted my body, because it was my body. Nadan wanted me.

Then, bending over the whole of my body, he laid a gentle kiss on my knee. The electricity of his touch made me ache for him even more. Ever so slowly, his lips ascended up my thighs, peppering my naked skin with kisses. I trembled under the soft touch of his lips, becoming even wetter.

“That’s so…” I breathed out, my body burning from the inside out as I felt Nadan’s tongue against my inner thighs. The cool air lapping at my wetness, only finding respite when the insistent warmth of his breath and tongue replaced it.

“Janis. I need to...”

“I need it, too.”

Leaning further in, he opened his mouth and pressed it against me. The richness of it almost tipped me over the edge in that first moment. Holding fast, I gasped as his tongue traced the contour of my inner lips. Blindly, I reached for his horns and gripped them tight, trapping his head in place. I slid from gasping to moaning, my voice dancing down the gully like a wandering ghost.

“I’ve never felt anything like this,” he whispered against me, his tongue finding its way to my clit. Gently, he wrapped his lips around the tiny bud and started circling it with his tongue. Shivers rolled up my spine in an irresistible burst.

I brought my legs up and laid the backs of my knees over his shoulders. Wrapping his strong arms around my ass, his muscles hard as rocks, he pressed his mouth harder against my wetness, his tongue furiously working on my clit. He pulled one arm back.

With a blend of gentleness and pent-up desire, he brushed two fingers against my inner lips. I nearly came right there. Carefully, he parted them, then eased his fingers in.

His fingers slid past the tightness of my inner walls, and Nadan only stopped when they were pressed tight inside me. I arched my back so hard it felt like my spine might snap. He stroked that spot inside, behind my pubic bone, sucking my clit. A desperate groan rose up my throat and, when it finally broke from my lips, it turned into a cry that could’ve been heard for miles.

Every fiber of me trembled, seized by pleasure. The lights flashing behind my eyelids burst into something more splendid. I clung to his horns as I came, afraid of the intensity of it all sending me sailing off into the sky.

When the eruption finally subsided, my whole body went limp. I lay sprawled on the ground, breathing so hard that it felt like my lungs were about to explode. My heart thumped inside my chest.

“Are you alright?” Nadan asked. His voice was devoid of that cocky pride that came from men demanding thanks for the pleasure they’d given. If anything, there was caution in it.

I opened my eyes and searched out his. A wide, easy smile spread across my face.

“I’ve never been better.” The look illuminating his face let me know that I might feel even better yet. And I knew he was the man to share it with.

Nadan

I had never felt anything quite like this.

Electricity ran through my body, infused with energy I had never experienced before, my thoughts fueled by passion. So, this was what it felt like to have a mate.

I liked it.

Holding Janis tight against me, I allowed our kiss to deepen until our tongues were no longer dancing. Instead, they were wrestling, the fury of our desire taking over us both. Her fingers worked on my clothes as we kissed and, soon enough, she was pulling my shirt over my head.

She stopped for a moment then, just so she could brush her fingers over the contour of my pectorals, then her hands went down to the grooves and ridges of my abs. She seemed fascinated with those. At least just as much as I was fascinated with every detail of her naked body.

“You’re incredible,” she muttered, and that’s when her right hand went below my waist. Turning her wrist around, she stretched her fingers wide and pressed her palm against my hard bulge. I groaned, the pressure of her fingers on my hardness driving me completely insane.

We seemed to be of the same mind, judging by the frantic way she got rid of my belt. She pulled it free from its loops with a quick motion, and tugged my pants and underpants down, freeing my erection.

My cock sprung free, harder than it had ever been in my entire life, and Janis didn’t hesitate before grasping it. The warmth of her fingers on my hard flesh was maddening and my body hardened further.

“You’re so hard,” she breathed out, flicking her wrist and sending her fingers up and down my entire length. I gritted my teeth, trying to process the onslaught of sensations, but it was impossible to encompass such a thing. It was just too much pleasure… and we hadn’t even really gotten started.

She leaned in. I felt her tongue lapping at my tip and, just a second later, her lips were sliding down my length. She only stopped when her lips were pressed against the skin at my base, and it’s a miracle I didn’t let loose right then and there.

Knowing that she had me, Janis started bobbing her head at a frantic pace, the wet sound of her lips on my piece fanning the flames of passion inside me. Gently, I threaded my fingers back into her hair, but I resisted the urge to take over. The bobbing motion of her mouth left me desperate for more.

I clenched my jaw, and my shaft throbbed against her tongue, a firestorm rising up its length. I exhaled sharply and, slowly but steadily, pulled myself from between her lips. Janis looked up at me, curious. I laid both hands on her shoulders and kissed her.

With sweet moans, she relaxed in my arms and we lay down, her back to the ground. Everywhere our skin touched, patterns of lights flowed across my skin.

My tip pressed against her inner lips as she threw her arms around my neck and laced her legs around my waist.

“Please,” she whispered into my ear, the sweet sound of her voice coiling itself around every single one of my thoughts. “I need you, I need this, Nadan.”

I rested my forehead on hers and looked into her eyes.

I eased myself in, holding my breath. I felt the tightness of her inner walls around my hardness. She sucked in a deep breath. I kept going, pushing myself in as slowly as I could. The moment seemed to stretch into eternity. Once my whole length filled her, the whole world felt right again. At that moment, Nadan and Janis no longer existed.

We had become one.

“So good,” she breathed out. Her eyes rolled back and fluttered closed. Consumed by passion, I kissed her again. I thrust into her, building a gentle rhythm, but the frantic swaying of her hips told me she was ready for more.

I let loose then, my movements becoming desperate and feverish. I thrust as hard as I could, putting all my strength behind my hips, and Janis moaned against my lips. When I pulled my mouth back from hers, her moans echoed throughout the gully, bouncing off the sloping walls and climbing up into the heights. It was the sweetest sound I had ever heard.

I held her to me, the patterns of bond sign lights illuminating her perfect skin. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, the madness of passion driving me to the limit.

“I think that I—” she started.

Her inner walls tightened around me. A moment later, tiny spasms ran from her inner walls to her inner lips. Every muscle in her body seemed to tremble. I slowed my rhythm then, allowing her to reach the peak and enjoy it, but she was having none of that.

“More,” she said, her voice brimming with passionate fury. “I want more.”

“More,” I repeated, my voice mirroring hers. Moving fast, I pulled back from her and, with both hands on her waist, turned her around. She immediately went on all fours, her back arched. She wiggled her backside at me with an inviting motion.

I closed the distance between us, eager to feel her once more gripping me tight. I guided my shaft past her inner thighs until I felt her wet lips wrapping themselves around my tip, and I thrust.

The sound of flesh on flesh exploded in the air, my hips slapping her backside. My glow reflected off her back. She was beautiful. Soon, her moans returned. The symphony of sounds pushed me one step closer to the edge.

My fingers dug into her flesh as I held her. I gritted my teeth as I gave her all the length I had to give. I closed my eyes, allowing passion to overtake me. My insides clenched.

My nerve endings crackled, ready to pop. Burning desire burst into a wildfire. I surrendered to the coming and going motion of our bodies, thrusting until Janis no longer moaned. Instead, she screamed.

I groaned, my body tensing. My muscles became rock solid. My insides twisted. Within a moment, I throbbed against the pressure of her. One final thrust and I held perfectly still, feeling Janis’s inner walls gripping me as I finally let go.

We came together, our bodies in complete sync. I couldn’t move as pleasure washed over me. I shuddered and twitched inside her as I offered up all my seed, feeling closer to her than ever before.

We remained locked in that embrace for a long time, nothing but the rasping sound of our strained breathing filling the air. Then we collapsed to the ground.

Without saying a word, I reached out to her. She nestled up to me, laying her head against my chest. The bond sign streaked across my skin. Wrapped in ecstasy, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Janis

“How long has it been since the valanx, Nadan?”

The walls of the gully rose high around us as we rode ever further. I was beginning to wonder if this chasm spanned the length of the continent… if this planet even had continents. It couldn’t be all land, could it? That would make for an intensely arid and harsh environment, not the lush greenery becoming ever more frequent around us.

“It’s been six days,” replied Nadan, jarring me from my admittedly nerdy reflections.

“Six days?” I repeated in disbelief. The time had blurred together for me, but that seemed like too long.

“Yes. I have kept count, but more than that, I know because our provisions have been getting low. I brought enough for a seven-day journey.”

“Oh.” I shrunk in my saddle, feeling small. It was my fault we were out here, with my decision to walk out into the wastelands in search of a legend. I shouldn’t have gotten Nadan involved.

Your weakness means now he’s going to die out here with you. You could’ve ended it, no drama, but instead you chose to struggle through the wilderness, taking advantage of this poor guy and his soft heart.

“I’m hopeful we’ll find a path out soon, though,” said Nadan, interrupting the voice inside me spouting such critical thoughts. Looking at his confident, handsome face, I suddenly realized I actually wasn’t afraid we would die out here. With Nadan’s wilderness expertise, we’d figure it out. And… for the first time, I was truly glad I hadn’t ended it.

I smiled at him. His eyes brightened as he smiled back. He gestured with his arm in front of us, swinging it in a half circle.

“Look at how the gully is widening. I would guess it is opening into a valley—perhaps we can find a shallower slope soon and wind our way back up that. And, have you noticed the denser vegetation?”

“I have!” I exclaimed, feeling rather pleased with myself.

“That makes me think we’re making our way into a much more hospitable region,” explained Nadan. “I believe we’ll be able to find vegetables, and perhaps some small game. Mammals, maybe, or possibly more haru.”

“Naro should be able to scare something up from the underbrush,” I said. The tayn loped next to my numa and gave me a grin, her tongue lolling.

“Just so,” agreed Nadan. “With a little meat and hearty roots, I’d be able to make us an excellent stew.” He winked at me. “I’m not a bad cook, you know.”

“Your skills extend beyond roasting a massive hunk of meat?” I joked, then instantly felt bad, worrying I would come across as ungrateful. “Of course, you’re a good cook, you’ve made so much filling food out of those dried provisions, and your stew the first day was delicious.”

“My mother never thought much of dried provision meals.” Nadan laughed, a gently rippling sound which made my skin tingle. “She said no matter what I did with them, they all tasted like melancholy.”

“That’s… oddly poetic. But I promise, melancholy tastes like ramen noodles and your meals taste nothing like that.” I was beginning to think I’d really like Nadan’s mother.

“Ramen noodles?”

“Yeah. They were kind of the most basic dried provision on Earth. Ramen noodles were the least expensive food one could buy, and I ate a lot of them. They comforted one, in a way, but staring into a bowl of ramen when you didn’t even have peas or carrots—Earth vegetables—to add was a depressing experience.” Nadan smiled. “Anyway, you were telling me about your mom.”

“She is an amusing combination of pragmatic and dreamy,” said Nadan. “When I was a child, my father used to tease her about which side was which. Was the Lukadian half the pragmatic one, mining people that they are? Or perhaps the glow encouraged a certain imaginative nature?”

“Do you think you have a dreamy side, then?” I asked, enjoying this sweet glimpse into Nadan’s parents’ relationship.

“I don’t know.” Nadan looked thoughtful. “I certainly have dreams about some things.”

I was about to ask what, but the soulfulness in his gaze made me pause. Could he be hinting something about… us?

I thought back to our first night together. A weight inside me had been lifted by telling Nadan my story. Being able to give myself over to the intensity of my grief for my old life was cleansing, somehow. It helped that Nadan had held me with such compassion and patience until I was all cried out.

Not to mention that what happened afterward definitely had some spirit-lifting effect. The pleasure, certainly, but more so the connection. Not to mention the light show! I smiled, trying not to smile too much. That had been an experience.

Yet, nothing had happened since then. There hadn’t been anything sexy between us, not even a kiss, even though I had slept in his arms every night. Nadan held me like I was something precious, and when I had nightmares about the Skarg—or my past—he stroked my back until I could fall back to sleep.

I wondered why he hadn’t mentioned our coupling at all. It didn’t seem like he thought it was a mistake—if he did, why would we share a bedroll? It wasn’t like the few other men in my past. He hadn’t turned cold or dismissive. Nadan was just as respectful and friendly and kind as always. And yet…

You scared him off, said that voice in my head. It was only the heat of the moment. He’s probably worried that any further intimacy would mean you’ll start bawling for the millionth time.

My smile faded. A blush rose to my cheeks. Could that be true? It was embarrassing imagining Nadan treading carefully around me to ward off another sobbing fit.

No. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I was certain Nadan was, in fact, giving me space, waiting for me to bring up the possibility of romance between us. The spark was there. I felt that without a shadow of a doubt. Plus, he kept saying slightly cryptic things that sounded like hints, like just now.

“As a… science-test? I believe that is your word. You must consider yourself more practical than not, no?” Nadan picking the conversation back up and making me realize I’d been quiet for a long time.

Always so awkward, Janis. That is why you barely made any friends in high school.

“To be honest, I do daydream a lot,” I admitted, hastily trying to make up for my lapse into my own thoughts. “Being lost in my imagination was the way I made it through my first unsuccessful foster homes. Once I started discovering possibilities about the past, I felt like it explained so much about the present and offered insight into the future. I felt like it was impossible to ever be alone.”

“There is a kind of peace,” Nadan said slowly, “in feeling connected to one’s ancestors. A family that expands beyond time. Comfort in knowing that when we each pass, some part of us will continue.”

“It’s kind of like that!” I beamed at him. “And discovering how our ancestors built their societies opens up avenues of knowledge. On Earth there were great desert civilizations buried in the sands that built massive structures we are still trying to decode. If we could just understand their technology. . .”

“That understanding would help you power your cities?” Nadan stroked his numa’s neck. “But how do you know where to look when the civilizations are buried in the sands?

“I think there’s a lot of intuition involved,” I mused.

Nadan nodded. “It is through instinct as well as learned skill that I train animals.”

“But by itself it isn’t enough. We work based off of clues in texts and signs in the earth. You can’t say ‘I feel in my gut that this is true’. You have to prove it.”

“Finding proof must then be difficult.”

“It is,” I acknowledged. “It really is.”

Nadan lapsed back into a companionable silence as our numas kept carrying us forward, their pace slow and steady.

What he’d said about finding proof being hard was sticking with me. I needed so much evidence to trust someone, but I’d felt I could trust Nadan from the beginning. I’d told him more than I’d ever told anyone and put my life in his hands. Every conversation where he really listened to me and offered his own well-considered observations meant something.

I’d thought I wanted to run away from everything, back when I’d stolen my numa and ridden into what I thought—even hoped—was the path to the location of the Sun Stone. Over the past six days though, I’d become a lot less certain of that. Maybe… I didn’t want to be alone forever.

With Nadan, I finally felt some stability, care, connection. I felt those things in a way I never had back on Earth—or with anyone else I’d ever met. Yet, frankly, the idea of that terrified me.

You’ve thought that before, I reminded myself. You’ve imagined those things and been really, really wrong. Gotten your heart broken and come off looking like a fool.

Nadan and I were stuck together. I’d only been able to trust the people I’d been stuck with a handful of times. Mom and Dad chose me. Nadan ended up with me by chance, it seemed like. King Dojak had asked Nadan to find me just because he was the best tracker. Right?

The memory of Nadan hovering at the door of the infirmary came into my head. Why had he been there? He’d brought me in when I collapsed, but he didn’t have to stay. Even back then, he’d taken care of me.

Maybe… maybe we weren’t stuck together at random. Something had drawn us together, I sensed. I didn’t have nearly the level of proof I’d needed for other people, but… the warmth in my chest told me I could trust Nadan. Entirely.

My thoughts revolved in my head until I was almost dizzy. Sunk in my reflections, I was taken by surprise when Nadan called a halt.

I tugged on my numa’s reins, bringing her to a stop. Nadan dismounted and headed toward a mound of greenery. I caught a glimpse of something gleaming behind the leaves. I blinked and looked again as Nadan began cutting back foliage. Was he clearing away a rock? Why on earth would he do that?

A pile of cut shrubbery grew next to the D’Tali. As he worked, Nadan’s body blocked glimpses of what appeared to be a boulder.

I opened my mouth to ask what he was doing, when Nadan stepped back and turned to me. Awe shone all over his face, like he’d found something wondrous.

“Janis, you have to see this,” he almost whispered. “Come over here, please? It’s… well, it’s incredible.”

Nadan

As Janis came to my side, I turned back to the obelisk.

It was made of a hard gray stone, hewn into a pillar. The material would’ve been unremarkable, except the surface was chased with veins of bright crystal. At the top, the square pillar became three distinct points of varying heights.

All that was inconsequential though, in comparison to the ancient carvings which covered every side of the object. They neither looked like writing nor pictures, but somewhere in between. Even if the lines were not obscured by weathering and lichen, I wouldn’t be able to read them.

But I had seen them before.

“What is it?” Janet’s eyes were round as she examined the obelisk. “Have we entered another nation?”

“These symbols predate any of the nations we know,” I murmured, the marvel of it still too great to comprehend. “They are from long, long ago.”

“Oh.” Janis reached out a tentative figure and traced one of the carvings. “They’re petroglyphs.”

“Petroglyphs?”

“Petro—it means rock. Glyphs are pictures used as writing. Humans use the word petroglyphs to indicate images engraved into stone, usually from people who lived centuries and centuries ago, if not more.”

“Then, yes,” I said. “These are such a thing. They may well be thousands of years old.”

“How do you know?” asked Janis, looking at me. “Have you seen other things like this?”

“Not exactly.” I walked around the obelisk as best I could despite the wild shrubbery. Every surface was covered in symbols, but they weren’t in lines like the writing I was familiar with. If anything, the organization was from the crystalline lines—they seemed to separate the mass of glyphs into sections.

“I’m dying of curiosity here,” said Janis. Alarm shot through me.

“You’re dying? What do you mean?” I abandoned my study of the rock and rushed to her side. Was she ill? Hurt? Why had I not sensed as much through the bond?

“Oh no! Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” she babbled. “It’s a figure of a speech—a human thing. An exaggeration, you say you’re dying of curiosity when you really want to know something.”

“Ah.” I had seized her hands, but at the explanation I gently released them. “Humans communicate very strangely.”

“They do.” Janis looked downcast. “I really am so sorry to have scared you, I didn’t mean to. When you say something for long enough, it’s hard to remember what the direct meaning is.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” I told her, giving into the desire to rub her shoulder. I was pleased when she leaned into my touch. “I’m not upset. I merely ask that you have some patience with me as I learn these shapes of speech.”

“Figures of speech,” she corrected, with a small smile.

“There, you see? You will have to be a forgiving teacher.” I let my hand fall from her shoulder down along the smoothness of her arm, and she smiled.

“You’ve been so accommodating to me, the patience is all yours,” she said, blushing. “But please, now, tell me about these petroglyphs!”

“I’ve seen replications of them in very, very old books that belonged to my grandmother,” I explained. “But she didn’t know what they meant, or how to speak them aloud. The books had been passed down for generations and were crumbling, but there were parts in Old Lukadian that she could read.”

“What did they say?” Janis’s fascination radiated from her, and I felt a sudden keen longing for my grandmother. She—or my grandfather even—would’ve told all the stories better than I could.

“They were about the Valley of the Ancestors.” The words weighed heavily on my tongue. In that place, the phrase felt important, resonant. “The location of many tales told to children around the campfire. The writing in my grandmother’s books all tended towards one story, though—that of The Cataclysm.”

“Cataclysm?” Janis’s eye narrowed. “That sounds ominous.”

“It was very long ago,” I assured her. “It is said that many different tribes all lived in harmony in the Valley of the Ancestors. While they did not all look the same, they spoke a common language, and were peaceful. Yet, a massive calamity befell them, and they were driven from the valley.”

“What kind of calamity?”

“The tales vary.” I placed my palm against the obelisk, wishing it could tell me all the secrets it held. “Some have the valley flooding with water. Others say there was a great drought that caused every living thing within miles to wither. Still others say there was an earthquake, in which the lifeblood of the bedrock beneath their feet bubbled up in molten-hot rivers. Yet another tells of a plague.” I blinked, suddenly understanding the look on her face. “I’m a fool. You said the clues to the past often hide in stories.”

She smiled at me. “I did. Clues that often hide in plain sight. Nadan… tell me more about the valley.”

I felt her rising excitement. “All the stories agree that, as the tribes traveled further from the valley, they spread across the land and founded many cities. They became the peoples we know today, like the D’Tali, Lukadians, and Aetamians. I thought it was a pretty myth.”

I shook my head in astonishment and brushed my thumb over a worn engraving. Feeling the tiny divot in the stone helped convince me it was real.

“Nadan,” Janis said slowly, narrowing her eyes. “Could the valley be where the Sun Stone is hidden?”

I blinked. “I… don’t know. It’s very possible.”

“Historically speaking—well, my planet’s history, anyway—this valley sounds like the right place. The coordinates match, even though we weren’t expecting to find this.” Color rose in her cheeks and her eyes glittered. I felt the excitement vibrate through her body.

“I never thought I would find something like this,” I said. “When I was a child, I was sure that our next caravan trip would lead us to the Valley of the Ancestors. I pestered my parents constantly, telling them I could sense it and demanding we go off the path in the direction I chose.”

Janis laughed. “Did they ever give in?”

“A few times,” I said. “Usually when they already knew where the direction would take us. I remember getting to a waterfall once and being sure that behind that veil of water would be a tunnel leading to the valley. Of course, it was solid rock back there, no matter what magical words I whispered to it.”

“You sound like you were a fantastic kid.” Janis had begun to do her own circle of the obelisk and paused to look at me over the top of it. “I can relate to wanting something to be real so badly.”

“Yet, these carvings are real, but I cannot read them,” I replied, disappointment filtering into my voice. “If I could, it would be like talking to my forefathers thousands of years ago.”

“You’re still connected with them. It’s part of why I love my career so much.” Janis finished examining the rock and landed at my side. She put her hand over mine where it still lay on the pillar. “You’re touching the same stone they touched. I think that’s incredible. And… I’m really glad I was here to see this with you.”

She gave me a shy smile, and I felt my heart lift. Janis was right—it was a magic all its own to make such a strange and surprising discovery, then get to share it with my mate. Even if she didn’t know she was my mate.

I had the sudden wild urge to tell her about the bond, but I tamped it down. I knew better than to startle her with something that intense. We were having a nice moment, and now was not the time. Asking too much commitment of her too soon, or presenting something as unilaterally decided, would only scare her away.

“Let’s explore!” Blithely unaware of the emotional turmoil in my heart, Janis tugged me past the pillar and its shimmering threads.

Almost immediately, her foot hit something solid. Janis halted and crouched down to examine it.

“This is another hunk of rock,” she told me, brushing aside a coating of dead leaves. “It looks too regular to be natural, though.”

I took a few more steps and raked my eyes over the ground in front of me. Now that I wasn’t focusing on the obelisk, I could see that there was a kind of rectangular raised outline. It was covered in organic debris, but it was there.

I began walking the outline, sweeping leaves off it where I could. Soon, more and more slabs appeared underneath the vegetation.

“It’s a foundation.” Janis stood and looked at what I was doing. “It’s not just the obelisk, we’re standing in a whole ruin. Nadan. This is amazing! If only I had my tools.”

My name in Janis’s mouth sent a charge of heat through my frame, as it always did. I wanted to sweep her up and kiss her with all the wonder and exuberance I felt. Instead, I returned to her side and grinned at her.

“You’re right, I see it,” I told her. “This was a building once, a place built to shelter my forefathers.”

“Perhaps a temple or something, given the obelisk?” Janis suggested. Her cheeks were filled with happy color, and her energy was the highest I’d seen.

“A sacred location, yes,” I agreed.

“Let’s see if there are other ruins!” Janis returned to the path and walked several more steps in front of the waiting numas. “Ooh, I see something glimmering behind that tree.”

I strode to join her, as Janis pushed aside a curtain of vines hanging down from a tree branch.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, as she took in what lay before her.

A lush green land lay flung out before us. It was a massive valley, a wide plain filled with grasses and studded with strange new trees. In the distance, a body of water glinted in the late afternoon sun.

Could it be?

“The Valley of the Ancestors,” I whispered.

It wasn’t gone. It wasn’t destroyed, or blighted, or even imaginary. The valley was right in front of me. As I continued to stare at the impossible vista, I began to realize it was more than just verdant and beautiful.

It was inhabited.

Janis

My jaw dropped.

Below me in the valley rumbled several hundred creatures that I could only describe as…

“Dinosaurs!” I whispered, exhaling and grinning widely. I knew that it couldn’t possibly be the same prehistoric creatures we had on Earth, but the resemblance was uncanny. Large, lumbering, scaly—and several of the flying creatures above us were feathered.

Many walked slowly down in the valley with their young, stripping leaves from trees and chewing on the flora underneath their massive feet. Occasionally a scuffle would break out between two enormous beasts who would snap at or push each other. In a deep, horizon-stretching lagoon in the distance, I could see several creatures breaching the surface and leaping into the air.

I turned to look at Nadan, who stood next to me, his eyes wide and awe-struck. He looked almost as stupefied as I was.

“They’re dinosaurs!” I exclaimed.

“What? I don’t understand,” he said, not able to tear his eyes away from the scene below.

“Dinosaurs,” I repeated breathlessly. “They were prehistoric reptilian creatures on Earth that were decimated by an asteroid. They looked—Nadan, they looked almost exactly like your Ancestors.”

“What is prehistoric?” Nadan asked, wrinkling his brow.

His question made me laugh. I turned back to look down at the Valley of the Ancestors. My eyes couldn’t drink in the images deeply enough. Who could have possibly imagined that a poor little science nerd would one day come as close to real, live dinosaurs as any human ever had? I was suddenly filled with a buoyed sense of possibility.

“Prehistoric is just a broad term humans use to describe something that came before them,” I explained, eyes locked on a flying Ancestor swooping in the wind above me. It let out a huntress’s shriek then dove for food it had spotted deep in the valley below it. “Humans like to measure things around themselves, as if they are the center of the universe.”

“They’re not the only ones,” Nadan murmured. “D’Tali wrote stories of the Valley of the Ancestors, but they were always passed off as legends.”

“Tell me another one of the stories?” I asked, lowering myself down to the ground to sit. From our high vantage point, we had a spectacular view of this peculiar vision. Nadan joined me. I could feel the excitement emanating off his body like a warm, sweet musk. I inhaled deeply as if to catch it and spread it around myself.

“Too many to count,” he said. His voice was reverent, full of hushed and respectful tones. “These are supposed to be our Ancestors, and their wisdom is what gave us our world. The largest of them gave us our strength. The flyers gave us our vision, and the smallest Ancestors, closest to the ground, gave us our agility. One of the Ancestors that burrowed gave the Lukadians their glow. There is a story for each skill, and how the Ancestor developed it, and how they passed it on to us.”

I nodded. Nadan’s explanation reminded me of folk tales from Earth, like the Anansi’s Spider Grandmother, or the old First Nations story, Raven Steals the Light.

“When I was too young to read myself, I would beg my grandfather to share the stories with me,” Nadan continued. “He would read one to me every night and always had to fight with me to go to sleep. When I got old enough, I would tire myself silly staying up late and rereading the stories on my own.”

I laughed, picturing a young, incessantly curious Nadan, desperate for more legends. “Which was your favorite?” I asked, touching him lightly on the arm.

For the first time since I’d pulled back the viney curtain, Nadan took his eyes off the valley below us and looked at where my hand held his bicep. Our eyes met and he smiled.

“My favorite was a story about a slow creature called the jorak,” he began. I ran my hand down his arm and rested it neatly within his palm. His fingers closed over mine. “The jorak was teased terribly by all its friends because it did not like to run very fast, nor was it very good at hunting. And, while all of the other Ancestors had a job to do in the tribe, the jorak struggled to find its place.”

“But you are good at hunting,” I interrupted before I could help myself.

Nadan laughed. “Thank you. Yes, I’ve learned many of the skills the jorak could not master. But one day, the jorak was traveling with its friends and came across a wounded animal. The animal was trapped between a boulder and a cliff-face and could not escape. The jorak’s friends all tried different things to approach the animal and rescue it, but any time they came close, the animal would become frightened and dig itself even deeper into the trap. Eventually, they all gave up and went home.”

Something inside my head clicked.

“But not the jorak, right?” I asked.

“No,” Nadan confirmed. “The jorak stayed by the animal’s side, just waiting, not moving. The animal began to calm. Eventually, the jorak began to sing, and the animal fell asleep. While the animal was asleep, the jorak worked hard at the boulder which had trapped the animal, and by the morning, the animal was freed. It trusted the jorak so much, it let the jorak bind its leg and lead it back to the camp, where the jorak nursed it back to health.”

Nadan’s beautifully blue face was full of feeling as he turned to me to finish the story. “From then on, the jorak knew what skill it could contribute. It was the skill of patience, and gentleness. My grandfather would always read that story and finish off with, ‘just like our Nadan!’ I think about the jorak often when I work with traumatized numas.”

Nadan returned his focus to the Ancestors below us, and his eyes moistened with awe. “I never once imagined that I might… see the Ancestors in front of me.”

For a moment, I was seized with an urge to turn Nadan’s face back to me and kiss him deeply. I wanted to share with him how beautiful I found his amazement, his passion. As I’d listened to his story and stared into the brilliant depths of his eyes, I had found a welcoming peace waiting for me. It was an intoxicating feeling. Something deep inside of me was humming happily.

“Do you think we might be able to find a jorak down there?” I asked, squeezing Nadan’s palm. “I want to thank it for the gift it gave you.”

Nadan smiled but looked quizzical. “You want to thank it?” he repeated.

“Your patience has been a gift to me,” I explained. “So I ought to thank the creature who bestowed it on you.”

Nadan’s face broke out into a sparkling grin, and he stood, pulling me up with him. “I don’t know how we might find a jorak, but I agree we should try.” He turned away and inspected the ridge beneath our feet and the valley far below us. “There!” He pointed to a cliff-face about a mile away from us.

“Where?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s quite hard to see, but in that cliff-face is a set of stairs. I think it’s just wide enough for us to go down one at a time.” He turned to me and took my other hand in his. “I’ll need you to lead the numas behind us. Can you do it?”

I felt like I was drowning in the warmth of his eyes. Could I do it?

I listened carefully to my brain, waiting for the attack that said I couldn’t, that I never could, that never in a million years would I be able to…

“Yes,” I said with finality before I could tell myself otherwise.

We walked along the ridge toward the cliff-face, moving slowly and purposefully. If the Ancestors had noticed us, they were unbothered by our presence. With the sun sparkling above us and the promise of fascinating discoveries below, my body was filled with something resembling joy, from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair.

After some distance, I saw Nadan’s superior vision had been right. We reached a low plateau that gave way to a set of ancient, crumbling stairs carved into the rocky cliff-face. To the right was the craggy cliff. To the left was a plunging fall which would lead to death if one of us fell.

“Oh my,” I said, my breath catching in my throat.

Nadan seemed to sense my sudden change in confidence, and turned to stand in front of me, blocking the cliff from my view. “Janis,” he said firmly. “I’m going to tie us together with rope, then tie the rope to the numa.”

I nodded. Suddenly my mouth was very dry.

“Go slowly and hold on to the cliff. I won’t let you fall,” he said reassuringly.

Nadan looped a rope around his waist to mine, then to the animals behind us. We began our descent. From the moment we stepped out onto the stairs, my body thrummed with adrenaline. Nadan chose to walk facing me and the numas, while I angled my body diagonally to be able to watch the stairs descending in front of me without turning my back on the terrified numas behind.

“Easy…” Nadan murmured.

Once or twice, I looked up from my slow, steady pace and saw an enormous tree full of chattering ancestral creatures, and forgot to be afraid.

Behind me, Naro slipped on a loose rock. I heard her bleat of terror, and the rope tying Nadan, myself, and the creatures behind me tautened and shook with a horrifying tremor. I braced myself to freeze and fall, but instead, found myself moving. I turned my body as lithely as I could to inspect the damage.

Naro’s back half hung precariously off the edge of the steps and she struggled to stay upright. We were still several hundred feet above the level ground of the valley. If we fell now, we’d be dead. I heard Nadan shouting instructions from behind me, but my heart was beating so fast I could hardly understand what he was saying. Slowly, I reached my hand out and placed it on Naro’s nose.

“Easy, girl,” I whispered.

Locking eyes with her, I felt her relax underneath my touch. Slowly, she fought her way back up onto the step and stood, shaking the fear out of her body. I watched in awe. What I wouldn’t give to be able to shake the fear from my body like a spasm, to be done with it when I no longer had use for it.

“Janis,” Nadan cried breathlessly.

I turned to face him and was surprised to find myself smiling. The wind whipped at my hair, and my cheeks were warming from the sun’s rays.

“We’re okay,” I reassured him, and he smiled back.

Nadan

By the time we reached a lower level of the cliff, the rock face was doused in a red-orange sunset. I could see the layers of rock as if they were deepening through time. Walking down these steps with Janis and the numas behind me felt like descending through the ancient years to a time when only my Ancestors had walked the face of the planet.

I was humbled and awestruck.

We were growing nearer to a cluster of carved-in dwellings—small chambers and caves that had been dug into the very face of the cliff by creatures approximately somewhere between who I was and the ancestral beasts below us in the valley. As we passed the first few, we could see the remnants of what looked like evidence of habitation—bowls and rudimentary tools.

Soon enough, the sunset’s rays transformed from a brilliant red to a dusky purple, and we were truly in danger of descending our way down to the valley in the dark. I didn’t like that prospect, and the carved dwellings gave me an idea.

“Let’s camp here for the night,” I suggested to Janis. I had never let her escape from my view—walking down the stairs backwards, insistent on keeping an eye on both her and the numas behind her.

But she had surprised me beyond my wildest expectations—steady and surefooted, she’d remained even cooler under pressure than I had when Naro lost her footing and we had all nearly tumbled down to an early death.

In the setting sun, Janis looked like a goddess. Her skin was luminescent, her face bright and dewy, framed by the curtain of her hair. But her most striking feature was how much she had changed in such a short period: transforming from a person under the weight of despair to someone open and full of possibility.

When I suggested settling down for the night, she perked up and happily followed me into the next dwelling, coaxing Naro and the numas off the narrow ridge of stairs and into the shadow of the room’s low ceiling.

“I think there’s a back room here,” Janis mentioned offhandedly as she explored the small dwelling. I immediately began to scour the surroundings, searching for something I could use to conceal our presence.

“Yes—right here!” Janis announced suddenly.

I turned around and saw that she had disappeared behind a corner, taking the numas with her. When she returned, she went straight for the bags of food we used to feed the numas and keep them happy when we couldn’t stop for grazing.

“It’s a little tight. I know how much they like to roam, but it’ll do in a pinch,” she said cheerfully, lifting the bag into her arms and walking back to the room to set it up for our steeds.

Again, I marveled at how different Janis seemed to be. In only a short time, I had seen her absolutely blossom. With some curiosity, I kept a watchful eye on her as I scaled back up the cliffside by a few paces to cut down a number of thick vines I could weave together to make a concealing curtain. Janis made herself useful by unpacking what we needed for food and setting up a fire in the open pit of the room, taking care to position it perfectly underneath the small smoke hole in the room’s ceiling that opened up to the now brilliantly black sky.

Nadan, you’re the happiest you’ve ever been, I thought to myself suddenly. The realization felt like a cool douse of water. It was indescribably pleasant to discover that what I had been missing was suddenly in front of me, intent upon starting the fire herself and exclaiming righteously when a small spark lit and spread along the kindling and branch pyramid in the pit. I worked fastidiously alongside Janis, not even needing to speak—this was a perfect way to spend an evening.

“Your fire skills have much improved,” I remarked, smiling at her.

She threw me a wry grimace, but it evolved to a smile, nonetheless. “Was that a compliment?” she teased.

“An observation,” I clarified, and Janis laughed. Her laugh sounded like tinkling glass.

In no time at all, the fire roared and crackled and we had unpacked and cooked the last of our fresh haru meat. We ripped into it, ravenous after such an extraordinary day.

“Tell me more stories about the Ancestors,” Janis said suddenly.

She stood and threw her haru bone into the fire. She stretched and shook out her tired limbs, then sat back down again. When she did so, she closed the distance between us and nestled into my side with her head on my shoulder.

“You’re curious?” I asked.

“I like learning about you,” she admitted, her cheeks reddening. “It’s all—well, it’s so different from how I grew up.”

I felt my heart climb up into my throat with excitement and anticipation. Since coupling together for the first time, I had walked with bliss in my feet for a full week but was beginning to wonder whether Janis felt the same bond that I did. I was content just to lie and hold her the following nights, but I had no real idea what was going through her head as I did so.

Was she drawn to me? Or was I simply a calming force on her tortured soul?

“Well,” I began, shaking off that thought, “there’s the story of the quorka, this devilish little creature that was fast and scaled up trees. It liked to drop seed pods onto other Ancestors’ heads when they weren’t looking. Everyone begged it to be more serious and do something of use to the community, but all it liked to do was tease and throw seed pods.”

“Bastard,” Janis joked, shaking her head ruefully.

“Well, there came a winter when the world grew so dark and so dim that the Ancestors believed that they were going to die before the spring thawed the world. Not only were they cold, tired, and hungry, but they were also miserable, and could not see a way through their misery.” I stole a glance down at Janis as I said that, but she was looking intently into the fire.

“And so, the quorka, now knowing the purpose of its skill, made jokes to the Ancestors and tickled them, played pranks, tricked them, and broke them out of their sadness. They made a grand fire and the quorka sang funny tunes and played silly games with the rest of its community until the spring came.”

I chuckled, thinking of my grandfather putting on a silly quorka voice years ago.

“The quorka gave you all the gift of play,” Janis finished succinctly.

I looked over at her, impressed. “Yes, that’s correct. It passed on the gift and skill of play and foolishness to all the little children.”

Janis smiled sadly. “I didn’t play much as a child. I wish that I’d had a quorka to give me that gift,” she admitted.

Janis may have felt like she missed the quorka’s gift, but I knew she had just handed me a gift all on her own—the gift of her trust. I put my arm around her and drew her closer to me. “Thank you for sharing that,” I replied.

Janis smiled and nodded to me, her fingers inching closer to my hand. The moment they touched my skin, the bond signs erupted along my hand, glowing even more brilliantly than the fire in front of us. The glow illuminated Janis’s face. She gazed down at my hand with transfixed awe. Her wide eyes and pale face looked like a tranquil moon.

“You’re so beautiful,” she said quietly.

I gaped. How could she know that I had wanted to say the exact same thing to her at that moment?

“Janis, you are beautiful to me, too,” I replied.

Janis looked up at me, her face full of gritty determination. I waited patiently for her to share what was on her mind.

“I would like to know why your skin does that when I touch you,” she said slowly. “You’ve told me you know why it happens, but you haven’t shared the reason with me yet.”

I stared at her, her eyes defiant and filled with yearning. She was ready to know. Did that mean that somewhere, deep inside, she already knew? She looked at me, expectant and willing. She wanted to be closer to me, and to know her role.

I closed my eyes. If I shared this with her, there was also a chance things could unravel quickly. She could become horrified that she was bonded with a creature she swore she wanted to get away from, or something from her past could rush up to haunt her the moment I chose to disclose the secret. Or she could balk at my motives and accuse me of tricking her into trusting me because I already knew we were bonded.

When I opened my eyes to look at her, however, her expression had not changed. She wanted to know.

I decided to tell her.

Janis

I waited with baited breath.

I knew I had touched on something important. Nadan wouldn’t look so cautious had I asked about something trivial. I sensed us wading into a deeper conversation about why I was here, and why I had come to feel so safe with him.

“I will tell you,” he said finally. “And I don’t know how you will react. I am nervous that my honesty will send you to a dark place.”

I blinked. I was not expecting so much direct honesty.

“It would be hard for me to know it was I who caused that,” he continued. “I don’t want to cause you any hurt or harm. I only want your happiness.”

I nodded, waiting for what came next. I felt a rush of warmth and a twinge of anxiety. What was I about to learn?

“Only you can make these patterns appear on my skin,” Nadan said finally.

I looked down to where his hand was on my knee. Experimentally—though I had done it before and knew what was going to happen next—I put my fingers on his knuckles and watched as brilliant electric blue patterns flashed up his deep blue scales, pulsating underneath his clothes, sending flashes through the threadbare stitching of his tunic.

“Only me?” I repeated.

Nadan nodded.

“So, this is the first time your skin has ever done this?”

Nadan nodded again. “My bones glow all the time, but these patterns across the skin—they are special.”

“Why?”

He took in a deep breath again and turned his head toward the fire. Alarmed, I tried to follow his gaze into the flames. Why was he avoiding my eyes?

“You asked before how my grandmother and grandfather knew they were bonded mates,” he explained slowly. “And it is because when they touched each other, these patterns appeared on their skin. These patterns are the Lukadian bond signs. Only one person—the bonded mate—can make them appear with a touch.”

It was as if a bell rang inside my soul. Something true, and good, and full of certainty. If someone had asked me what Nadan’s answer was going to be, I would not have thought of this—but now it was out there, now that he had said it, something felt indescribably concrete. It felt like it had always existed.

Silence passed over the dwelling. My fingers were still on Nadan’s knuckles, the bond patterns still illuminated. Nadan wrenched his eyes from the fire and looked at me, his face contorted with an anxious sadness.

“Have I upset you?” he asked.

I shook my head honestly. “No. I’m just… trying to get my head around it…”

Nadan’s brow furrowed. “I am happy to answer additional questions,” he murmured.

“Well,” I began, my hand now stroking his cheek, watching the way my fingers made his skin brilliant and sparkling. “What does it mean… that we’re mates?”

Nadan looked puzzled. “It means that we are fated to be together.”

“Forever?”

Nadan nodded. “Forever.”

I suddenly felt winded. Though I did not want them, tears sprang into my eyes. “But nothing is forever,” I managed to choke out.

Nadan put his hand over mine on his cheek. “It is forever while it lasts,” he whispered. “Beyond that, we cannot know what the universe has in store.”

I closed my eyes, tears dripping down my face. All my life I had longed to know something was permanent, that somewhere out there was a love waiting for me that would remain untouched by circumstance, and that would welcome my love back without condition.

“How long have you known?” I asked suddenly. How much time we’ve wasted!

Nadan reached out a hand and carefully wiped away a tear from my face. “I suppose… since I saw you,” he answered finally. “There was something I could not describe about the way I felt drawn to you. I thought at first it was simply because you were so timid and far apart from the rest, and that struck my curiosity.” He sighed, frowning. “But I knew we were mates when you collapsed after the Navigator’s crash.”

I took in a sharp intake of breath. Ah, yes. When I’d believed all hope was lost. “What about then made you certain?”

Nadan’s eyes searched mine. “When you collapsed, I came to pick you up and take you to Camilia. And when I touched you, I felt it, the bond sign. I could not see it—the sun was shining too brightly, but I instinctively felt something confirm it in my core. Suddenly, my soul was not my own anymore. It longed for you as well.”

Yes! My soul cried out. It knew the feeling well. And, yet, something stopped me from agreeing outright. “Is that why you followed me? When I left to search for the Sun Stone?” I asked.

Nadan sighed, full of feeling. “I was terrified,” he admitted, and his voice wavered. “I did not want to lose you. I know now that it was the bond that pulled me closer to you, that knew I needed to go find you and save you.”

Say something! Reciprocate! I screamed at myself, but my voice caught.

“I felt like I was only half present,” Nadan continued, and he looked stricken. “But the last week with you has been indescribable, Janis. Inside, I feel like a warm fire is crackling with your name.” He rose to his knees suddenly and gripped my face with his hands. “Tell me you feel it, too, Janis, please. Don’t you feel this way too?”

Nadan was exposed, frightened. I knew exactly how he felt. And more than anything else—I knew exactly what it felt to be half-present, I knew the feeling of the warmth inside that screamed for Nadan.

“I do feel it,” I whispered, stroking his cheek again. “I feel it, Nadan.”

Nadan closed the gap between our lips with a deep kiss, holding my face with one hand and the other sliding down my back to pull me against his body. Everything I needed to know was in that kiss—Nadan genuinely only wanted my happiness.

I whimpered into his mouth with anticipation. I was already slick and wet for him, the memories of our first night together rushing to the forefront of my mind, screaming and begging for more. Nadan responded by bringing a hand down to one of my breasts, cupping it gently and tugging at my nipple to harden it beneath my shirt. Every squeeze of the fabric sent jagged lightning bolts of pleasure through my body.

I pulled away from the kiss and my moan echoed across the cavern’s walls. “Fuck, Nadan,” I whispered.

“I want you,” he growled. “I have always wanted you, Janis.”

“I want you, too, Nadan,” I agreed.

Our clothes went flying. It was a miracle that they didn’t land directly on the fire, which by now was reduced to glowing, hot embers. I was suddenly naked, looking up at Nadan’s bare body glowing brilliantly blue in the darkening night. Like the North Star, his light entranced and bewitched me as I drew closer to him, reaching down for his shaft and feeling it tense and harden in my hand.

“You are everything,” he whispered as I worked my hands along his length, trembling with lust. “You are the night, and the day, and the sky.” Nadan panted lightly as my massage grew firmer. “You are the moon and the sun,” he continued, gritting his teeth. “You are the entire universe, wrapping itself around me.”

Nadan dove at my breasts, bringing his mouth around my nipples and gripping both of them tightly. I squealed with surprise and pleasure. His tongue rubbed around my twin points like electric volts of heat. My insides screamed to feel him.

I was not interested in denying myself any longer—not in this moment, and not in my life. When I could hardly bear it anymore, I pulled Nadan down onto my body, reveling in the feeling of his weight and pressure. I rolled him over onto his back until I was mounted on top of him, my wet folds covering his erection and pushing his firmness down against his stomach.

“Janis,” Nadan whispered, his eyes closing as I slid my slippery lips up and down his shaft. I ached to lift him into me, to close my tightening walls around him and extract pleasure from him like the scientist I was, but I made myself wait. As I rocked my hips against the tip of him, Nadan’s thumb found my most sensitive part and began to tease it gently.

It was my turn to speak. I gasped out loud and felt my body tensing. “Nadan,” I whimpered. “You are my rock. You complete me. You have made me whole again.” He abandoned all pretense and began to rub furiously, sending my back arching. “You lit the sun in the sky. You’re the reason I can see again.”

I was nearing a focal point of ecstasy and I was afraid of what would come after. But with Nadan underneath me, holding me, feeling me, I knew that I would be able to meet it. Suddenly, words failed me and I screamed, my bliss causing my body to quake with the feeling of fireworks. Nadan lifted up my hips and slipped himself inside me just in time to feel me spasming hard, squeezing and tightening against his throbbing member. He groaned, but held perfectly still as I twitched.

When the pleasure had plateaued and I found myself back in my own body again, I looked down to see Nadan gazing rapturously up at me. “I want more,” I begged him.

He gave it to me. Holding me tightly at the hips, Nadan began to thrust himself deeper inside me, rocking me up and down. I let my hands fall to his pecs, gripping him as I, too, gyrated against him, delighting in how easy it was to find our mutual rhythm. As we fucked, our faces contorted in pleasure. We were driving each other mad.

“Janis,” Nadan moaned, and suddenly I was not the one making the most noise. He grunted in bliss, gasping in surprise as I tightened against him, watching me carefully while I ground myself around his manhood.

Suddenly, he sat up and we were eye to eye. He kissed my neck while holding my ass, guiding my hips up and down on his length, slamming me against him and making me struggle for breath.

“Nadan,” I gasped, shocked at how quickly I was going to peak again. “Don’t stop.” He murmured something into my neck, but I couldn’t hear him—I couldn’t hear anything but the mounting joy inside me, encompassing my body with Nadan’s touch but spreading into every dimension of my personhood.

“Janis, I will never stop,” Nadan said suddenly, and I was released—soaring above pain and suffering and climaxing into new heights of pleasure. I twitched and contorted around him, screaming with ecstasy as he shouted into the air and joined me, filling me with his warm seed and calling my name.

Even after our bliss had subsided to a quiet joy, we remained embraced, holding each other tightly, breathing in rhythm with each other. We did not speak, but I knew—even more than our first time together—that in Nadan’s arms, I was safe.

Nadan

I rose with the sun.

Janis lay curled up by the remnants of the fire, and I stood in the doorway for a moment, taking her in. The morning light bathed over her as a warm breeze blew in through the ruined doorway.

She was perfect.

I had told her. The moment of truth came between us, and I’d spilled out the whole of our bond. And this creature, this woman who had been frightened almost to the point of being feral, had kissed me. All my fears over how she might react melted under her lips. And now, in the light of dawn, she looked more peaceful than I had ever seen her.

It was tempting to wake her and get her to join me. Now that so much had been acknowledged, the only place I wanted to be was by her side. But even in the flush of love and acceptance, I knew that all things took time. What she had shared of her history told me that gaining her trust would be a long road.

Best to give her the space to come to me. Which, in some ways, was exactly right for me, as well. The siren song of the Valley of the Ancestors was very nearly irresistible. Were Janis to get up with me, there was a very great danger I’d be dragging her along in a whirlwind.

Turning to leave her sleeping, I cast my eyes across the verdant valley, shrouded from so much of the world. Every bit of it was gilded as the sun peered over the hillside into the legendary kingdom. My eyes almost burned at the sight. And, for that brief moment before Janis woke, all of it was mine.

Walking down the incline, the air smelled fresher than I could have imagined. In every direction, I saw peaks and crags of ruins struggling to push their way through the dense foliage. Then, up along the side of the rock face, I saw a line of cave dwellings carved meticulously into the rock.

Something high overhead lit out across the sky, and I squinted against the glare to get a better look. Like a dark dart against the blistering blue of the morning, the creature had a massive wingspan. It tended to glide rather than flap, giving it a kind of lethal beauty.

“Holy shit.”

Janis’s voice caught me off guard, and I snapped around to meet her. Childlike wonder suffused her face, matching my reverie, and she lifted a hand to shield her eyes. She offered me a smile of pure astonishment.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” I asked, returning my gaze skyward.

“Incredible doesn’t begin to cover it.” She stepped up next to me, lacing the fingers of her free hand with mine. “That’s a goddamn pterosaur.” The word was unfamiliar to me, and I looked down to try and read the importance of it on her face. She shrugged, but never took her eyes off the creature.

“They’ve been extinct where I come from for tens of millions of years. Look at that!” She pointed, and we watched the creature circle back to a ledge high along the cliff line. A scramble of activity made clear that there must be a whole flock of the things up there.

“Nests,” I said.

“Yeah.” She cut her eyes over to me and that mischievous twinkle pulled at the corner of her mouth. “Any chance we could get up there?” Her newfound ease, and the spark for adventure settled warmly between my ribs.

“I imagine we’ll have to look through those.” I pointed up to the line of rough openings hewn into the granite. Sure, I had wanted to go poking around the ancient cave dwellings anyway. If there was an easy way up to the aerie, it had to be there. The sheer climb to the ledge might be exhilarating, but I felt like saving my exertions for a repeat of the night before.

It was a steep hike to the rim of the first cave, but when we got there, I wasn’t disappointed. Far from some low little crevice, it opened back into a cavern tall enough that Janis could have ridden on my shoulders. A tiny tingle of excitement ran to the tips of my fingers.

“This is amazing.” Her voice was soft, but still reverberated back to us from deep within the darkness. As it did, I put up a hand. For a beat, we both listened hard.

“Is that…?”

“Water,” she confirmed before I could finish the question. “Running water.”

We took our first steps at the same time. After giving over to the bond, and being together in a true, deep way, a new kind of synchronicity was enveloping us. I wouldn’t have been surprised if our hearts were beating in time.

The further we got from the light pouring through the mouth of the cave, the more I caught Janis stealing glimpses at me. I almost asked why, but the answer was clear. The pale fire of my own bioluminescence was glowing back at me from the craggy walls. If my ancestry came with one advantage, it was never having to strike a tinder for a light.

The sound of rushing water became more and more distinct, until a vast chamber opened up in front of us.

“What is this place?” Janis breathed.

“Incredible.” It was the only thing I could think to say.

A shaft of light streamed through a hole from high above, sparkling off a fall of cascading water. The water shimmered like gold coins falling in a torrent.

The glorious fountain splashed down into a pool that filled the whole of the chamber. Only a small ridge ran around the perimeter closest to us and seemed to stretch around the totality of it. With the light glistening down to us from above, the aura surrounding us was strangely holy.

That was when we saw it.

Nestled on a ledge under the waterfall, almost as if it was hiding itself from sight, was a stone the size of my head. Not quite round, it was shaped more like an egg, and nearly translucent like a polished hunk of crystal.

As I watched, it seemed to pulse with an inner fire that grew as we stared at it.

“Nadan,” Janis said, “is that what I think it is?”

The pulse increased, emitting a gentle light that washed over us, too regular to be a phenomenon of the sun bouncing off the cave walls through a crevice.

“I think it must be,” I said just as slowly, stunned.

“I feel like there’s something I’m forgetting,” she muttered. “If that’s the Stone, how do we get it down? If it’s fused to the ledge, we need tools. Do you think it’s hot to the touch? If it’s an energy source, is it stable enough for transport?”

Her questions flew at me as I tried to hunt down the niggle in my memory. Something about her words triggered a deep concern. I, too, felt like there was something I was forgetting.

“I don’t know if we can just take it, Janis,” I said.

“It belongs to your people, right?”

“Yes, but. . .” I trailed off. “Should we disturb it?”

Just when I was on the point of lapsing completely into reverence, Janis opened up with a shattering, full-throated scream. I snapped my eyes to her, to find her pointing to the entrance to the chamber, her face awash in blind terror. Wheeling around, I saw the danger.

On the wall of the cavern, lingering on razor-thin legs just above the passage we had come through, was a spider, but not a harmless tree spider from the forest, which only grew to the size of my palm. No, like so many that lived in caves like this, it was large enough to come up to my calves.

At least it looked that large from where we were standing. As it stalked down the wall, it was clear I would soon judge its true size.

“Stay behind me,” I said over my shoulder. My arms fanned out on instinct, shielding her.

“Okay.” Fear quivered in her voice, so I refrained from telling her that cave spiders were largely venomous. That wouldn’t have helped the situation. Instead, I went on the defensive.

The thing scampered off the wall, and I stooped down to pick up a stone near my feet. A throw and a miss wouldn’t have done a damn bit of good, so I braced myself and waited for it to get close. It reached the cave floor, all eight legs working in unison, moving with startling speed.

Janis shrieked as it was on me in a flash. I barely had time to brace an arm at the underside of its thorax. The pincers grasped toward my face, viscous drops slavering down with each chomp. Yeah, this thing was venomous, alright. And strong.

It wrapped its front legs around me and tried to pull me closer. As it had managed to wrap up my arms, I had to work to get enough of a swing in for the rock to do any damage. The first couple of blows were glancing body blows. Not only that, they only seemed to make the thing angry. After each smack, it only redoubled its force.

Then, with a shudder, it reeled back. One of its legs loosened around me and started to scrabble. I looked behind it, to see Janis working at another of the spindly legs, snapping them. The bastard lurched back again, and I planted a series of solid strikes right into its head. All the while, Janis worked to break me free.

Suddenly, the thing collapsed in the dust and balled up, withering into a broken knot right before our eyes. I panted hard, but when I turned to Janis, I could see her eyes were alight.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Yeah. Well, I probably owed you one.” Suddenly her face froze. I turned slowly, dread crawling up my spine.

Then it hit me—what I had been forgetting.

The Sun Stone was protected by fearsome guardians.

“There’s too many of them,” Janis whispered, her voice strangled.

A small army of spiders marched through cracks and crevices in the cave walls, their movements somehow deliberate. I couldn’t fight them all off, there were too many.

I reached behind me and grabbed her arm. “Back up slowly,” I said quietly. “Very slowly.”

I felt her take a deep breath and shudder. I glanced over my shoulder quickly to make sure she wasn’t frozen in terror, and stilled. Her gaze met mine. She must have seen the same thing on my face that I saw on hers.

“Don’t turn around,” I said, voice completely calm.

“They’re behind me too, aren’t they?”

I said nothing. What could I say?

But I would fight. I would fight to the death. She glanced at the Stone, at its pulsing energy which seemed to deepen in color.

The spiders skittered closer. I braced myself—

Janis jerked away from me and ran toward the Stone.

“Janis!” I hissed.

The spiders froze.

She flung herself to her knees, staring up at the brilliant jewel. “My name is Janis,” she whispered. “I’m not one of your people. I was stolen from a planet far from here. But I’m here with Nadan, and I swear we mean no harm. We want no personal gain.”

What was she doing? Whatever it was, the spiders hesitated. Maybe it was the sound of her voice, low and soothing like a chant, reverberating through the cavern. It mesmerized me until I almost forgot the danger. Almost.

“We traveled here because tales of how you once provided the people with warmth and healing have been passed down through the generations,” she continued. “That’s what I do on my home planet—I trace legends back to their source and discover the truths in them that can help bring good to the people.”

I moved very slowly, readying myself for another attack. “Whatever you’re doing, Janis, keep doing it.”

“No weapons,” she said sharply, without looking at me. She inhaled. “I’m sorry we killed your guardian. We didn’t understand. We thought we were fighting for our lives.”

A sudden pulse of red light flared from the Stone. I blinked, flabbergasted.

“I don’t know what happened in the past, why the people had to flee this valley—but the D’Tali are good people. They sheltered us, and many of my friends have found mates among them.” She hesitated. “We’ve forged alliances with the Lukadians and made peace with the Aetamians. I—I think we’re ready again. Ready for the power you offer. To use it for peace, and development.”

The sense of dread, of waiting danger, paused.

“We won’t take you without permission,” I whispered. Inexplicably, I didn’t feel foolish talking to a shiny rock. “But if you allow us to study you, I promise we will guard your power, as well.”

“With my life,” Janis said, resolution squaring her shoulders and strengthening her voice. “My life has no other purpose now. But I vow my purpose will be yours, if you allow it. If you think we’re worthy.”

The sense of danger swelled… and broke.

“I think it accepted your offer,” I whispered, a fine tremor running through my muscles. Not quite fear, not quite awe, but a combination of both, threaded with joy.

And with that, the spiders retreated.

After a long moment, Janis rose to her feet, then turned to me. We stared at each other. I looked back at the spider we’d killed, feeling regret.

I glanced at her. “Do you want to get out of here?”

She took a deep breath and faced the waterfall again, basking in the pure majesty of it. Then, kneeling down, she scooped up a handful to take a taste. “It’s clean.”

“What?”

“If it’s running in like that, and this place isn’t overflowing, that means it’s flowing off somewhere. If it’s moving, then it’s clean.” She looked up at me. “Nadan, we have an inexhaustible supply of drinking water.”

The depth of what that meant settled over me like a cloud. We were in the midst of a kind of paradise. As if the presence of a seemingly sentient stone hadn’t already proved that. I struggled to wrap my mind around it, and couldn’t, so I decided to focus on what I did understand.

“Trekking with my father on the caravan trails, he taught me to smoke out a cave to drive off cave spiders. We can easily do that here to keep this cavern clear. But… I don’t think we need to anymore, do you?”

She shook her head. “I think we have permission to be here now.” Suddenly she grinned. “And the appearance of any more spiders will be a clear indication we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

I scanned the sacred space, alive with the history it must have held. That’s when I saw them. My eyes had adjusted to the stone’s radiant light source, and I realized that the walls, the stones, everything—were covered in markings.

Runes. More petroglyphs. This was a holy space, alright. And my heart leaped at a single thought.

Those marks contained the unknown history of my people.

Janis

For a moment, I splashed my hands in the water, feeling like a child again. Maybe it was the delight of the cool droplets it left behind, or the slow pressure it exerted as I thrust my arms deeper. More likely, it was the latent fear I had been holding over our dwindling resources. The specter of thirst had hung heavily over me since washing out Nadan’s wound.

Whatever the reason, I started laughing. The sound reverberated up through the cave and came back to me in a chorus of unbridled happiness. The first I could remember feeling since I had come to this planet.

But something was missing.

Nadan’s laugher should have risen with mine. I almost expected to feel it ringing inside my chest. But, when I turned to search him out, he was standing perfectly still, staring at the walls of the cave. Even in the half light, I could tell that his breathing was shallow.

You weren’t fast enough. He was bitten. And now, just as you’ve found him, you’ll lose him.

But I had been fast enough. My voice was wrong. Some urge had propelled me… okay, maybe it was just my degree combined with watching too many movies, but I’d felt a presence in the cave. And if the old stories said the Stone was guarded by monsters—I’d acted purely on instinct.

It had been the right instinct.

“Nadan?” In spite of all the laughter, the fear in my throat strangled his name. But when his eyes found me over his shoulder, there was no death in them. On the contrary, he looked shockingly alive, brimming with vitality.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Look.” There was a wonder on his face that immediately sent my heart spinning like a top.

When I joined him, I saw a dense mesh of markings sprawling out in every direction. Symbols and pictures like something from our oldest civilizations on Earth. Through some indefinable power, they inspired reverence.

“Oh, my God.”

“Our Gods,” he said. “The Ancestors. This is the history of our people.” He reached out and dusted his fingers against the stone wall, as if he was afraid it would crumble at his touch.

“All our legends are here. The Tribes of the Valley. The Rise of Bokar the Wise.” With each word, he reached and touched a different section of the wall. Every point of contact was a benediction, a connection to all who had gone before.

“What’s this?” I asked, drawing his eye to a batch of symbols.

As he followed the line of my arm, his eyes grew wide. He placed two fingers to his forehead and whispered softly. Then he looked up, craning his neck until the light from the top of the waterfall threw shadows over his face.

“It’s the Epic of Discord. One of the oldest stories we have.” He leaned over, reading it intently. “There are numerous versions, but traces of all of them are here. How a dispute broke out over succession, and the valley divided. It says here that the cleft in the soil ran deeper until the two sides couldn’t coexist.”

“The war carved out the valley?”

“Some of it,” he nodded. “In the end, this realm wasn’t large enough for the factions. Etoum led his followers up over one ridge and into what are now the Aetamian lands. Dehtlik led his people over the opposing ridge. And ever since, there has been war.”

My heart melted for him, seeing the profound reverence on his face. He continued, “These are other stories, like on the stone at the opening of the valley, though I suspect the carvings on that stone are the oldest. I recognized few of those symbols, while I recognize many of these. There are so many stories, told and retold over the generations. To see the roots of them, here, on these walls...”

It was clear that he was giving me the barest sketch, and as enraptured as he was, I didn’t want to press. Nadan was too caught up in reading to talk. He drank in the symbols as eagerly as I had lapped up the clean water. At last, seemingly overwhelmed, he spun to face the entire cavern.

“It’s all here.” Following his gaze, I saw just how far the writing reached. All at once, he turned to face me. “We have to bring this news back to Tahkath. Our wisest sages have been looking for this…” he raised his arms as if trying to embrace it all, “since our people left this place.”

“I see.” An icy rock lodged itself in my stomach at the suggestion that we go back. As important as I knew this must be to the D’Tali, the Aetamians, the Lukadians—all the descendants of those tribes—the thought of returning to the kingdom caught in my throat with a wave of nausea. Especially after finding ourselves a true paradise, somewhere the air and water were fresh and full.

But maybe that was what the Stone wanted us to do. Return it to its people, who were now at peace.

“Oh,” he said, lowering his arms slowly. “Are you alright?”

“I think so,” I said, smiling. “I’m trying. We should just get some air.” Whatever the Stone wanted us to do, it wasn’t going to happen today.

“Alright.”

I made it a point to get ahead of him, and Nadan clearly read my tight strides, giving me space. Walking back to the mouth of the cave, I felt the sunlight grow warmer with every step. At the same time, each one only seemed to bring me closer to Tahkath.

When I finally caught a lungful of the real thing, it took a second for my eyes to focus on all the splendor spread out before me. How could they have left this valley in the first place? At length, Nadan ambled up near me, and I was grateful for the room he offered.

Why are you doing this to him? All he wants is to bring you back to the world he knows.

But I hate that world. It’s been killing me since I first laid eyes on it.

“Stop it.” The sound of my inner voice spilling through my lips startled me. But, before I could muster embarrassment, Nadan came and crouched beside me.

“Why don’t we go back and see how Naro is doing? If I’d had any sense, I would have brought her with me when we set out. She must be going crazy for missing us.”

“More likely, she’s chasing who knows what kind of creatures through the scrub.” I smiled at the image, feeling my shell crack a little bit. We clambered back down the slope, Nadan supportive but not overly solicitous at my side. A hand was ever ready, but he never presumed to lift me down or carry me.

This man knows you need to find your own way.

On our way back across the longest plane, I proved to be right about one thing. Naro was bounding through the underbrush, clearly oblivious to our absence. If anything, she seemed surprised to be reminded of us at all. But after a few more moments of romping, she fell in step beside me.

Reaching down, I ran a hand along the gentle scaling of her back. She had chosen to walk next to me rather than Nadan. They were both coming to know what I needed.

In the moment I thought that, his fingers reached over and tucked in among mine. I squeezed them back, hoping that it was somehow thanks enough. The words were still hunting for each other inside my chest, so the simple language of hands would have to do. We were well settled back at our makeshift home before Nadan spoke again.

“Those things,” he said simply, “those symbols? They have a profound meaning to my people. For all the people of this planet. It could be a new beginning.”

“I know.” The spring in my chest was still coiled tight. I couldn’t manage to break it loose.

“You know,” he said with a new brightness, “we could lead tours.”

I looked up to find his face open, bathed in the sunlight as he looked out over the greenery. “Tours?”

“Actually, forget leading.” A wide smile seemed to split him open in joy. “Host! You and I could be the Lord and Lady of this place. All the dignitaries would come.” He traced a small bow, looking as if he felt just a touch foolish about it.

“The Keepers of the Ancestors,” I said, feeling just the hint of release peeking through.

“The Regents of the Valley,” he said, and I broke into a true laugh. “Charging extra to bathe in the Sacred Lake of…” He was beaming, clearly grasping for the right punchline.

“The Vanquished Spider!”

Nadan buckled with laughter, and I followed until we were both huddled on the floor, wheezing out our last chuckles. His hand came to rest on my stomach, and we looked out over what might just become our own little kingdom.

I could almost see it. After the smother of D’Tali life at Tahkath, this was something else again. No war, no soldiers or forges. I might never have to lay eyes on the cursed husk of the Navigator again. The time out in the wilds with Nadan and Naro had brought a level of peace that caught me off guard. I was only in this moment fully awakening to it.

“You were magnificent,” he said, staring at me. “We would be dead if you hadn’t acted. I don’t know how you knew to speak to the Stone that way, but. . .” he reached out and took my hand, lifting my knuckles to his lips to press a kiss against my skin, his eyes shining. “I feel so much pride.”

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. “It was just an impulse. A good guess.”

“You could teach,” he said quietly. As if he was dreaming it out in soft tones. “Train students in your archaeology, to commune with the Stone as you did. We would need some kind of school. A way of unfolding all those texts scrawled around in there. You could use it.” I looked up along his chest to find his eyes. “All the best parts of your life back where you came from? They wouldn’t be wasted here.”

Which was an arresting thought. It seemed like all I had done back on Earth was waste myself. The best parts of myself, as he put it. I was too bound up in all that I hated to truly see my way to being useful.

And landing here had only made it worse. What good was any of my life if all the things I had dedicated it to stayed silent? Now, for the first time, I could see a path that gave me purpose. No castles, no low corridors and torches. None of that.

Do you feel that, Janis?

I could breathe. It felt like living for the first time.

Nadan

On the morning of the second day, it felt as if we had been there a week. Again, I woke with Janis in my arms. We hadn’t made love again the night before, but in many ways, holding her was all I needed. To be close to her, and knowing she wanted to be close to me, was enough. Not only that, but she was flourishing in the valley.

I looked out to find her frolicking in the low glen just beyond the spot we’d claimed for our little homestead. If I had been told back in Tahkath that I would ever see this woman frolic, I wouldn’t have believed it. But there she was, her hair springing about her shoulders as she ran.

“What are you doing?” I called to her. The matter of the Sun Stone was in the back of our minds, but for now it was time to explore and figure out our new life together. It wasn’t going anywhere, after all. And when it was time to return to the D’Tali kingdom, we would figure out then how to take it with us—if that was what it wanted.

She swirled to face me, looking almost startled to have been caught. After a beat, she waved in a broad arc.

“There are these little mammal things,” she called back. “Almost like squirrels?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. If Naro and I can catch a couple, dinner will be taken care of!”

With that, she scrambled off among the leaves. Only after Janis named her did I notice Naro rummaging around beside her. I suppose that Janis, beaming in the morning, was hard to take my eyes from.

A thump from back in our cozy refuge called me back to the present. The numas had already spent an inordinate amount of time in an enclosed space and were more than a little restless. It wasn’t so bad at night when they were sleeping, but if we kept them penned up for too much longer, they were going to pay for it.

So, pushing back to where we had the poor creatures confined, I opened up the makeshift door I’d managed. As soon as there was a whiff of freedom, they bucked and roiled, eager to push past me and take off. The whole of the valley was relatively enclosed, but I didn’t relish the idea of spending the better part of a week trying to wrangle them back.

“Easy,” I whispered, stepping in among them. “Easy.”

Starting up my low, soothing hum, I did what I could to soothe them until I could get my hands on the reins of my mount. Navigating them around a dead predator was a different game to dealing with days’ worth of pent-up energy. A spooked numa and a restless numa were two very different things.

Finally, I managed to single out the one I’d chosen and close the door behind me. For now, at least, the other two could enjoy a tiny bit of extra space. Heaving up into my saddle, I could feel him getting ready to bolt under me.

Not out of fear so much as a need to run his legs limber again. But I needed to maintain control or risk getting my neck broken. So, allowing an easy trot, I steered him out toward the outer wall of the valley. If I was going to find anything like a suitable pen, it was bound to be out that way.

Besides, having the numas between where we’d settled and the way we’d come in couldn’t be a bad thing. If anything unforeseen happened, Janis and I could make it to the numas and out into the open.

After a few days off the saddle, it felt good to be riding again. I was nearly as grateful for it as my mount was. We made our way to the outer wall and began to ease alongside as I looked for anything that might serve as a corral. As densely forested as it was along the outer side of the valley, the areas just within were like a series of little clearings separated by copses.

Within ten minutes at a lazy canter, we came through a stand of dense wood to find exactly what I was after. The remains of a structure hugged tightly to the high wall. The clearing it stood in was broad, and even before I rode into it, I could tell that what was left of the walls would be enough to keep the numas from crawling or falling out. There were even the remains of some windows that looked out on three sides.

“Perfect.” I rode through what had once been a doorway and slid down. Pulling off the saddle, I settled it over some stones piled up to nearly chest height. Yeah, this was going to do nicely.

Stepping back out, I hunted up some fallen timbers sturdy enough to fashion a makeshift gate to cover the door. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do until I got the other two over here and brought my hatchet. It was a leisurely half hour walk back to the homestead, and when I got there, Janis was waiting.

“Where did you get off to?” After so many days side by side, it was clear there was pleasure in private time for both of us. Particularly now that we both knew she wasn’t trying to make a break for it.

“I rode out until I could find a better place to stow the numas than that little room. They’re not going to stand for it much longer.” She pulled a practical, frowning smile and nodded.

“Fair enough. Well,” that newfound sparkle came back into her face. “Want to see what we’ve been up to?”

“I’d love to.” It was a pleasure to see that she and Naro were bonding so well. On top of everything else she brought to the table, Naro was a spectacular companion. Not only that, but she seemed to be able to read moods and knew when she was needed.

“Ta-da!” Janis pulled aside a scrap of fabric with a flourish, and there were three furry creatures laid out in a line.

“Werlics,” I cried and clapped my hands.

“Is that what they’re called? I don’t suppose you’ve ever tried one?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to,” I said with a wry wink. “They’re delicious. Why don’t you ride one of these numas out to the pen with me, then we’ll come back and see about cleaning these things up?”

“Deal.”

Now that I knew where I was going, it was pleasant to be idle about the ride. Naro ranged along beside us as we traced our way to the little retreat that I had found. When we made it through the wooded area, Janis drew in a sharp breath.

“This is beautiful.” And it was. Since I had headed off, the sun had risen, and the whole area was glowing. It was tempting to figure out how to create a space here for ourselves. We trotted into the enclosure, and, as soon as we had the saddles off, the numas began to make the most of all the new space.

The Valley of the Ancestors was having a profoundly positive effect on all of us. I felt more centered than I ever had back in Tahkath. We sat on the stone wall, watching the numas romp with each other.

Movement drew my eyes up to the nearest ridge. Perched on top was another aerie, with a pterosaur stretching its wings. I nudged Janis and pointed up to where the creature flapped.

“Why isn’t it over by the other nest?” she asked.

“I’ve been watching them. They’re territorial. Each one stakes out a region, and they’re fierce fighters when boundaries are crossed.”

“Huh.” She sat for a moment, musing up at the nest. “You know,” she said at last. “Not to stir up trouble, but one of those things ought to be big enough to carry both of us to Tahkath and back.” I didn’t get it, so she turned to me with a raised eyebrow. “If you’re looking to lead pilgrimages to this place, a flock of those things would make the trip a lot faster.”

It was a fair point. Not that I had any idea how to build a flock of those wild creatures. They would be more likely to eat our pilgrims than carry them peacefully to and from this sacred spot. Still, it was worth considering.

As I did, I looked back up to the ledge. It was empty except for the nest.

“It’s gone,” I said vaguely. Nothing about its absence seemed too threatening, until Naro began to snarl and hunker back on her haunches. Just as I was beginning to wonder what had gotten into her, Janis let out a shriek and pitched forward into the pen. A dark shadow passed just to my left, and I leaned aside as the winged monster sailed by.

It was close enough, I could hear the wind singing around its body. Hopping down next to Janis, I watched the creature bank around and dive for us again. The numas grunted and scattered, creating a path directly toward Janis. My blood burned in my veins to protect her, and I tucked her beneath me.

The thing screeched toward us at a terrifying speed but buckled midway across the green. It tumbled to the dirt and wheeled away from us. It was Naro. She had managed to leap up and catch one of the pterosaur’s legs mid-flight. As the hateful beast lunged at our tayn, she did her best to dart out of the way.

With a terrible cry, it started for her again. Naro ducked behind a numa cowering against the wall. Everything went into slow motion, and I broke into an icy sweat as I ran to try and stop the inevitable. Looming up with a terrible set of claws, the pterosaur lashed out, raking a deep gouge into the numa’s hide. It let out a wail, as steaming gore spilled out onto the grass.

Naro raced past me, and I was left mid-field. It turned toward me and extended its wings again. I tucked low, ready to launch myself into the coming attack. The thing shot into the air, sailing over me.

Spinning fast to trace its flight, I watched it flap into the air and prepare to dive directly at Janis. Her back was pinned to the stone wall and Naro crouched, snarling, at her feet.

Janis

My heart pounded as if it would shatter my ribs.

Bracing back against the stone, I stared wildly, looking for anything to save me. Nadan was running, but he seemed forever away. And this thing was bearing down on me in a giant swoop. Maybe it would break itself against the rocks in trying to kill me, if I could just duck away in time.

In the blink before I could move, Naro went soaring up from my feet. It was the kind of jump she seemed bred for. Snapping at the pterosaur’s belly, she let out a sizzling hiss. Still smarting from having its leg bitten, the creature swerved, whizzing to the side. The wind from its wings buffeted me and I could smell the musk of its skin.

I was alive. That was a close fucking call. Closer than I’d ever been.

“Janis,” Nadan skidded up, scooping me into his arms. “Are you alright?”

“I think so. I…”

A terrible squeal cut through my brain, and we both looked, to see Naro flailing in midair. She had managed to capture the pterosaur’s leg again and was bucking as the bastard tried to take off. She kicked up with a hind leg and managed to snag a tear into the underside of its right wing.

The two crashed into the dirt, and Naro evaded another vicious attack. The numa were slower, and once the beast was grounded among them, they went into a frenzy.

“Get into the corner,” Nadan commanded, then shielded me with his body. One of our mounts thundered past a moment later, careening against the walls and digging deep furrows into its hide. Its eyes were wild, and froth hung at the corners of its mouth. Even if we all managed to survive this, I wondered if we’d ever be able to ride them again.

The pterosaur was grounded, but still ferocious. As one of the numas raced by, the wounded monster lashed out with its harpoon-like bill, spearing deep into its side. The numa roared, but kept charging as gouts of blood poured down its side. Before it could reach us again, its front legs gave out, and it tumbled into a heap.

I clung to Nadan’s shoulders, watching the carnage unfold. Its fellows slain, the last numa came unhinged. It raced at breakneck speed, trampling over the hindquarters of the flopping pterosaur. As it hurtled away again, it ran headlong into the outer wall of the valley, and a horrible crunch reverberated through the air. The last of our rides slumped to the dirt.

“Nadan!” He was surging away from me in a sprint, and I called at his back, desperate to stop him from joining the numbers of the dead. If he fell in this once idyllic place, I was certain that I would join him.

Swinging hard, he landed a punishing blow to the back of the pterosaur’s skull. It squawked in pain and surprise, but he hit it again before it could turn to face him. Naro was close at hand, and sank her jaws around the monster’s throat, dragging it further toward the ground. It gurgled and tried to rise, but Nadan punched it again.

With a shudder, the thing scratched at the ground, flapped its broken wings, and dropped.

Nadan stood panting over it, his body quaking with barely contained rage. After the havoc the thing had wreaked, it couldn’t die enough. To be broken underfoot was too good for it. He looked at me, and I was suddenly aware of crouching in the corner.

Coward. I hugged myself hard and clenched my jaw. All that was going on, but you couldn’t do anything but worry for yourself.

“That’s not true,” I whispered into my lap, clamping my hands over my ears.

Isn’t it?

“Are you alright?” Nadan was beside me. His hand rested lightly on my shoulder, but I shook him off, leaping to my feet. My head swam and my vision narrowed to a barely focused circle. The world around me faded.

Breath rasped in and out of me, racking my lungs.

You’re going to die here. It just kept hissing inside my head, over and over again. You’re going to die here. I was dimly aware of strong arms enfolding me. Nadan’s smell. Then I must have blacked out.

When I came to, the sun was lower in the sky. I could smell the smoke rising from a fire but couldn’t see it right away. It was outside the enclosure. I had been positioned so the shade would fall over me as the sun sank. The scent of roasting meat wafted over the wall. I stirred to sit, only to find Naro’s head had been resting on my stomach.

She stirred as I rose and trotted off through the doorway. Momentarily alone, I saw the numas lined up along the far wall opposite me. Next to each one was a deep trench.

“You’re up,” Nadan said as he stepped back into view. “I was worried about you. But, given everything, I didn’t want to risk carrying you back home.”

Home.

The word burned into my brain like acid. I swallowed hard and looked up at him, standing gently over me.

“We’re never going to get home, Nadan.” I wanted to throw a significant look over to where our mounts lay dead, but he caught my face in his hands. My eyes fluttered up to his, and I saw nothing but care, and deep love radiating back at me.

“Wherever you are is home to me, Janis. That’s the truth of my life from now on.”

I cupped my hands over his and tucked my chin a moment. How did he know what I needed to hear? Getting up on my toes, I rewarded him with a kiss. It was the best I could manage, and I hoped he read what I meant behind it.

“I waited for you,” he said when we broke the kiss. With a nod, he drew my attention back over to the numas. “It seemed like you would want to say goodbye.”

“Thank you.”

We walked over to the pits, and as we passed the door, I looked out to see the fire he had built. Over it, spitted on green branches, was a large, ragged hunk of meat.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Dinner. Pterosaur smells pretty good, eh?” He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I laughed in spite of my misery. Again, it was exactly what my soul needed. Then, before I was ready, we were next to the numas.

“Alright,” he said softly. “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“We’re going to roll them in.”

I sucked in a deep breath, and we stepped around the side of the first one. When they had been alive, I’d had a hard time telling them apart, to be honest. But, in these last moments with them, all the little differences flooded over me. Each one was distinct and coated with memories.

One by one, they tumbled into the holes that Nadan had dug, and I marveled quietly. Regardless of how long I had been unconscious, he had put in a serious day’s work. Once they were settled, we covered them together.

As the first scoops of dirt hit their bodies, Nadan began the low hum he had used when calming them. I joined in, just an octave or so higher. Then, as he changed tones, I would meet him and harmonize, singing into the ground the steeds who had faithfully carried us. It was hard to say whether or not he was doing that as a way of calming me, but I was grateful.

It was meditative. The work of filling the holes might normally have strained my back and arms, but the ceremonial nature of it made it feel something akin to a prayer. When Nadan deemed them sufficiently buried, he leaned back, opened his arms, and looked up to the sky. Opening his mouth, the hum erupted into one long note.

His cry contained the whole of his spirit. There was sorrow, but also joy, peace, and love. I did my best to match him and found a deep well within my chest bursting for release. The moment gave scope to all of it. Tears ran down my face, but they didn’t burn in the way I had grown accustomed to.

They were clean. Bright. Carrying a multitude of emotions beyond the fear, rage, and misery that had lived behind each tear I had shed before that moment.

“Here,” Nadan said, his open vocalization falling into words. “Under the sight of you, our Ancestors, in the land that you held most dear, I render up these servants to you. May they graze in peace and be at your disposal whenever you need. I, Nadan, can speak for their loyalty, their steadfastness, and their stamina.”

He looked at me. It was time for me to say something. For an instant, it seemed absurd to call upon ancestors who were none of mine. But then I realized that, by joining my life with Nadan’s, I was now in league with that lineage.

“Here, under the eyes of the Ancestors, I offer the best of what these beasts have been. They bore us, they protected us, and I ask that you offer them the same consideration.” That said, I let my arms fall, and looked over to Nadan. He was smiling.

“Let’s eat.”

As we sat by the fireside, digging into the surprisingly succulent flesh of the terror that had swooped down on us, Nadan kept glancing up at the nest high above us. Ever since I had come to again, it had remained unattended.

“You know,” he said, swallowing a mouthful. “If we could get one or two of those things young enough, we might be able to train them.”

“What?”

“Tame them. Raise them to live alongside us. Maybe cultivate something we can ride.”

“You really think that kind of thing is possible?” I asked.

He leaned back with a sly grin, and tossed a scrap of meat to Naro, who had been sitting patiently watching us eat.

“I don’t know.” She snapped down the food, then returned her attentive gaze to her master. “It worked for the numas, didn’t it? That is, if you think you’re ready to go back.”

A lump caught in the middle of my throat, and a strange realization came to me. I was. I could be ready. Looking around the valley, I realized how much I had come to trust and care for the numas who lay under the ground, the tayn who followed us with a diligence that bested any dog I had ever known, and, this man, who sat waiting with an open heart.

“We’ll have to see if the Sun Stone wants to return with us,” I said quietly. “And we promised it that it would only be used for peace and development. We can’t break that promise, Nadan.”

If what rested in this sacred valley could bring solace to his people, then it was our duty to share it with them. They had become my people too.

And if they tried to misuse its power… Nadan and I were its guardians now, sworn to protect it. We would take it, and we would leave.

So, I took a deep breath, and nodded.

Nadan

I strode into the dark stillness. The cool air scented with green leaves wound itself into my senses, soothing me. It was hard to leave Janis with the image of that pterosaur lunging at her so fresh in my mind. Yet, we could not wait. If the pterosaur was willing to leave its nest to come after big prey, those eggs must be close to hatching.

I slung a pack on my back and traveled quickly, aiming to reach the foot of the cliff before dawn. I hoped I wouldn’t need every last drop of daylight, but it was better to have the buffer. Climbing down a vertical wall at night was not an activity I wished to try.

I timed my approach perfectly. The sun hung below the horizon, ready to crest as I reached the edge of the valley. I looked up, mentally tracing a route along the rock face. It was craggy, which boded well for handholds, but there were places where I would have to climb at an angle to make it past an overhang.

Bromeliads and ferns sprouted from clefts along my path. Taking heart from the exuberance of the valley’s fertile flora, I began my journey.

At first, it was simple enough. My hands smoothly found purchase. My feet found ledges nearly wide enough for me to stand on. When I reached the first tree rooted deep into the bluff, I pulled rope from my pack, tying it around the tree’s trunk. The other end went around my waist. If I fell, I hoped the tree would hold, and keep me from crashing to the valley floor.

I kept ascending, tying a second length of rope to a new tree, and untying the first. I secured the end of the first rope to the new tree so it would be waiting for me on my descent. I felt my confidence growing, until I reached a dramatic overhang. I’d seen it from the bottom—there was no way around it, not for a long way on either side. In places, I’d be almost horizontal.

I took a deep breath and thought of Janis. I ran through a dozen images of her, happy and newly confident. A golden glow swelled in my heart as I ruminated on her transformation. The way she’d been wounded, yet gone from shrinking and silent, to grinning and exploring… it was incredible. If she could do that, then I could do anything.

Holding my love’s face in my mind, I reached. My fingers gripped at a crevice, and I was off. My legs pushed my body upwards. Hand over hand, I pulled myself higher. As the rock became increasingly less vertical, I clung with all my might. My muscles strained and I gritted my teeth.

All of a sudden, I hoisted myself over the ledge. Panting, I rolled onto flat stone, staring at the sky. I’d made it. I pushed myself up and looked out over the stunningly gorgeous valley. I could see the variations in the opposite cliff where the dwellings were—where perhaps Janis now looked towards me.

Whether I could see her or not, I felt her giving me strength. I got to my feet, feeling power flood back into my limbs. I eyed the pterosaur nest, which was looking much closer now. The hardest part was over… or so I thought.

I’d been climbing with relative ease for a while when I reached a drier, more layered section. My first attempt at a handhold crumbled away the moment I put any pressure on it. I ducked the rain of dust and pebbles, cursing under my breath.

Try as I might, I couldn’t find a solid grasp anywhere within reach. I clenched my jaw. How was I to continue? Yet I couldn’t turn back—I was nearly at the pterosaur nest. Our way home depended on my success.

An idea bubbled up through my frustrated thoughts. Perhaps only the outer pieces of rock were so weathered and fragile. I pulled one of my twin knives from my belt with my free hand and jammed it into the cliff above my head. There was a puff of debris, but the knife seemed to hold securely.

Grinning, I hauled myself up. I grabbed my second knife with my other hand. Slam. Now it, too, was a steady handhold.

Repeating these actions over and over again, I slowly and painstakingly rose higher. My arms screamed from the exertion. I conjured the brilliant ring of Janis’s laughter, and focused on the sound. What seemed like a century later, the ledge of the pterosaur’s nest beckoned. With a strained grunt, I hoisted my body onto it.

Just as I had hoped, two huge pterosaur eggs nestled within a pile of branches. They were each a mottled purple, with a few bluish streaks. I pulled the pack from my back and prayed that one of the massive eggs would fit inside.

One did, but barely. I was glad I’d reinforced the bottom seams before setting out. I was also pleased to find the thing was remarkably light. I hefted the other to be sure, and found it, too, was not at all heavy. Carefully I returned the second one to the nest.

“Strange,” I murmured out loud. The sound of my own voice startled me, and I realized how quiet it was that high up. No rustle of wind in leaves, or crunch of animals in the underbrush. It was eerie and lovely all at once.

I couldn’t linger to appreciate the strange beauty, though. The afternoon wore on, and I had a promise to keep.

The first part of the descent was the trickiest. I secured a third rope to a tree near the nest, tying it to my waist above the second rope and made my way back over the side of the ledge. Going down, I had to rely on the strength of my torso while my feet groped for a spot to brace against. Yet, once I reached the last tree I’d tied to, right above the crumbling section, my troubles were behind me.

I untied the third rope. There was no way to retrieve it, but I felt the length of rope was a fair trade for the egg. I secured the first rope to my waist once more. Using the second rope, I rappelled down all the way to the precipice above the treacherous overhang. There, I secured the first rope about my waist again, and untied the second.

I rappelled the rest of the distance on the first rope. I jumped down the last few feet and felt a swell of deep accomplishment. Untying the first rope from my waist, I headed home, egg nestled in my pack.

Light on my feet, I made it back before sundown. When I came in view of the dwellings, I saw Janis standing in our doorway. Her eyes found me immediately, and a smile blossomed on her face. She launched herself down to meet me, Naro at her heels.

“You’re back!” She flung her arms around my neck, humming in happiness. “How was it? How are you? Did you find an egg?”

“It was difficult but I had you in my heart to carry me onwards,” I told her. A blush suffused her cheeks, but she laughed a little.

“I think you were the one doing the carrying,” she said, eyeing the bulging pack. “I take it that it isn't a big round rock?”

“Indeed it is not.” I brought the bag around and set it on the grass between us. Gently, I removed the egg. Naro padded forward and touched her nose to it, a dubious look in her eyes.

“Ohhh,” breathed Janis, stroking the hard shell. “It’s so beautiful. What a color.”

Before I could say anything, a crack sizzled through the air.

“What was that?” I asked, my tired muscles bunching in alarm. I looked at Naro to see if she sensed the danger.

A second crack burst out as I realized Naro was staring at the egg, her head cocked to one side.

“It’s hatching,” whispered Janis.

I sucked in a breath. I wondered if the warmth from my back had mimicked the pterosaur mother’s heat enough to bring this about. Scooting to Janis’s side, I saw long jagged lines crossing the egg’s surface. As we watched, little pieces of shell popped out at us.

In a matter of moments, the infant pterosaur had made a massive hole in its soon-to-be former home. I held my breath as a small, sharp beak pressed against the filmy membrane that had been revealed.

“See that bump on her beak?” Janis pointed at the nose poking from the egg’s hole. I nodded. “On Earth, we call that the egg tooth. Many of Earth’s birds, an advanced form of dinosaur, still use that to escape their egg. Millions of years and who knows how far, your ancestors still use it. What a miracle to see firsthand.”

Then the pterosaur broke through. Its head emerged, and its eyes landed on—Janis.

“Hello, little one,” she said, mesmerized. The creature scratched and tore its way free and tumbled onto the ground. Righting itself, it went straight for Janis. She held out her hand, and the pterosaur rubbed its head against her knuckles. I noted the swells of bone ridges around the eyes. The larger mother, who had killed the numas, had the same.

“She’s female. She’s imprinting on you,” I said, my voice low. As if in confirmation, the pterosaur let out a harsh, but oddly endearing, cheep.

“Rala,” murmured Janis. “Her name is Rala.”

“Well, let us get Rala upstairs, and warm,” I suggested, as Naro rumbled her disapproval.

“Yes,” agreed Janis. Without hesitation, she swept the infant into her arms, taking care not to tear the translucent membranes of her flopping wings. I followed her, my surprise at her assurance mingling with pride.

The next morning, and for many mornings after, I learned that my mate had yet another side to her. She took to raising and training the pterosaur like she’d been born for it. In a mere ten days, Janis had managed to get Rala and Naro to coexist peacefully, as well as teaching the pterosaur a series of directional commands.

“Look, Nadan!” She beckoned me over, beaming at Rala. “I know we’ll have to harness her someday, but she’ll scarcely need it.”

Walking alongside the pterosaur, which was already hip height, Janis tapped the scaled joint that joined Rala’s right wing to her body. Rala veered right. Janis did the same at the left wing joint, and Rala veered left. She patted the base of Rala’s thick neck, and the creature came to a halt.

“This is wonderful progress,” I told my mate, as she turned her radiant face to me. “You have done more already with Rala than I ever could have dreamed. You might as well be her mother!”

“Not quite,” said Janis. I caught a new note of seriousness in her tone. “Ummm… okay. It’s too soon to know for sure, but I have to tell you anyway. Nadan, I think it won’t be long til I actually am a mother. Or til you’re a father.”

“What?” I caught her slender hands up in mine. My heart swelled, already bursting with happiness. “Are you telling me…?”

“Yes.” Janis bit her lip, but her eyes sparkled. “Like I said, it’s a little early to tell, but I sense something. A new life. So… yeah. I think I may be pregnant.”

“Oh, Janis…” I whispered. “This is truly a blessing.”

“Don’t get too excited yet. It’s still very early to be certain.”

“Well, then, we will wait to see. And if you truly carry my child, I will be grateful for as long as the sun continues to rise and set.”

Janis

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Somehow, I knew he was going to catch me, so I sped up trying to hoist the cumbersome pack into position. Rala shifted slightly, rankling at my haste, and the whole thing thumped to the ground. She nearly took off, and Nadan trotted up beside me just in time to catch hold of her harness.

“Easy, girl. It’s alright,” I whispered. A couple of light scratches just where her bill met her forehead got her to settle down a bit.

“Look, I know you want to help, but please let me do the heavy lifting?” He crouched beside the pack, tucking a few stray things back into place and retying it. As he did, he cut a look up at me, shaking his head slightly.

“What? It’s not that heavy.”

“Heavy enough.” Nadan stood up, easily lifting the roll of our possessions onto Rala’s side. He’d constructed an ingenious lacework of straps as our harness. I’d spent several weeks getting her used to it, and she’d proven to be a blessedly fast learner. But then, she was startling in many respects.

When our own little pterosaur had hatched, there was no way of knowing what to expect. The first time Nadan had floated the idea of training one, I’d been skeptical. But given his experience domesticating the creatures of this world, I was more than happy to follow his lead.

However, it turned out I ended up taking the lead on pretty much everything. Rala had taken to me immediately. Not only that, but all that bullshit we were fed in school about dinosaurs having walnut-sized brains was for the birds. She was incredibly smart. For the first month or more, she basically thought she was another Naro.

Until she discovered her wings. It was weirdly adorable how she would fly around, but never wanted to let us out of her sight. That attachment quickly became the crux of training her.

Learning to ride her had been something else again. Funnily enough, she had taken to it far more readily than I had. It didn’t help that, as soon as I told Nadan I was expecting, he essentially turned me into a kind of shrine. Hence not wanting me to do any of the hefty packing. Those first flights on Rala were an exercise in him fretting over everything. The good news was, that meant the rigging to hold us to her was stronger than a steel trap.

“What do you think?” Nadan asked as he finished securing everything. “The sun’s not in mid-sky yet. With luck, we could reach Tahkath by evening.”

In spite of the growing pressure in my stomach begging for a return to civilization, I hesitated. So much about the Valley of the Ancestors had come to feel like home. Far more than I had ever felt back in Dojak’s kingdom. As always, Nadan read me immediately.

“Let’s take a last walk around. Maybe stop by to say goodbye to the numas.”

“So, it really is a last walk, isn’t it? This is it.” He folded my hands in his and looked full into my face.

“Not forever. Just for a while. There’s no way we could leave all this behind.” Turning, he let his gaze sweep over the lush landscape. It was clear that he was going to miss it all just as dearly as I.

“Come on.” Giving him a tug, we meandered off toward the little pen that had become the numas’ graveyard. Rala was ever content to stretch her wings and sun herself by our little copse, but Naro bounded ahead, loping into the brush.

“She’s got no idea, does she?”

“Naro?” Nadan raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips into that quirky smile of his. “I sure hope not. We’d never catch her.” Which was true. If we had settled in here, then Naro had made the whole of the valley her domain. There were any number of beasts infinitely larger than her, but she held a singular sway over every corner of our realm.

When we broke out into the area looking down on the enclosure, I could just make out the three mounds along the far wall. In the earliest days, the dirt was still dark and rich—it actually made me heartsick to see it. Now, everything was covered over with grass. It was almost easy to forget the horrifying carnage I’d been privy to in that little field.

Naro was already tearing around the perimeter when Nadan and I stepped through the ruined doorway. It’s strange how the air around us remained exactly the same—yet it felt holy.

“Wow,” I said softly. “I have no idea what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything. Just think about them for a second. After all, this isn’t a true goodbye. We’ll be back.”

I gripped his fingers hard and looked at the three silent mounds, speckled with flowers. It was enough to stand and breathe it all in. The quiet of the place was something I knew I would need to hang onto. There’s precious little of this kind of serenity back in civilization.

“Time to go?”

“Yeah,” I smiled up at him. “Let’s do it.”

As we made our way back through the little patches of wood, a prickle began to run along my skin. It was equal parts anxiety and excitement. I was glad for the latter sensation—there had been times when the thought of seeing those high walls again had made me sick to death.

“Do you think anyone will be glad to see me?” The question surprised me the moment I said it. It was the kind of thing that used to run around inside my head, yet here it was dancing out over my lips. I had become so comfortable with Nadan, I knew he would be able to help me still the doubts and fears that used to consume me.

“I’m always happy to see you, if that counts for anything.”

“I’d say it counts for plenty.” Pulling him to a stop, I reached up and kissed him. Sure, it was an evasion, but I’d take it. Mostly because I knew he meant it when he said it.

We got back to the green area, and Rala was nowhere in sight. For a hot second, my heart tightened in my chest. But an easy breath loosened me again, and I shielded my eyes to look up into the clear blue.

There she was, sailing against it. Which was probably good. Let her get used to the weight of our packs before we all strapped ourselves in.

“You know something? Once they see her back at the kingdom, there’s going to be a heavy market for trained pterosaurs.”

“Oh, yeah?” Nadan let out a burst of laughter and scratched the spot right between my shoulder blades. “We could have quite the side business, really.”

“That’s right,” I laughed with him. “Come for the sacred history, stay for the dinosaur rides.”

“We’ll just have to find you some more hatchlings to train when we come back. You’ve got quite the knack for it. I could learn a thing or two from you,” he said.

After another easy chuckle, I pealed out a whistle that rang all the way down the Valley.

Rala heard it and wheeled around in the sky. Letting out a screech, she dove straight for us, fanning herself in for an easy landing just a few yards away. The instant she touched the ground, the reality of the moment set in.

“Alright,” I said, threading out a long, steady breath. “Let’s do this.” And, of course, we had one more stop before we headed back to the kingdom.

“As you wish.” Nadan clicked his tongue, and Naro wriggled up next to him. She and Rala had been fast friends almost since the pterosaur hatched, so it was an easy matter to get them close. Naro didn’t realize she was tied on to Rala until it was too late.

“There we go,” Nadan said, standing up and turning to me. “You’re up.”

Sliding me up onto Rala’s back, I had just a second to marvel at how strong she was. At only four months, she was already sizable, and I could feel the sinews rippling under her tough hide as I cinched myself in place.

“Room for one more.” I patted a spot on her back behind me, and Nadan climbed on to strap in as well. The whole weight of us must have been substantial, but Rala barely sank at all under it. How incredible that such a creature would eat from my hands. If you had told twelve-year-old Janis she’d be riding a dinosaur with her alien lover, she would have laughed in your face.

“Rala,” I said in my trainer voice. “Up.”

With a light tug on the reins attached to her jaw, she spread her wings out on either side and lifted into the air. Those first, juddering flaps always made my knees turn to jelly, but once we were up to soaring height, the whole thing became much more pleasant.

* * *

Looking down, we watched the valley grow smaller, then vanish in the dense foliage which consumed its outer walls. Below us, plains spilled out in every direction. Breathtaking. I had been up on Rala before, but the sense of beginning a journey truly brought home the majesty of it all.

And sharing Rala’s back with us was precious cargo, cradled in Nadan’s reinforced backpack.

Not quite surprisingly, we had been able to retrieve the Stone, and it was cool to the touch. I should have felt uneasy, but all I felt was a sense of peace and health. I didn’t understand what kind of technology it was, but I understood that it was capable of making its will known.

And I understood the grave responsibility that came with bringing it back to civilization. The consequences of misusing it could be fatal. I still wasn’t certain we were making the right decision… but the Stone seemed to trust us.

The world rolled along under us, and I was reminded of what it had been like looking down over the Earth as we were dragged away. There was a brief moment when my nails dug into my palms at the memory, but I breathed in the crystal-clear air and banished the thoughts. It had been a horror, but it was a horror that had brought me all this perfection.

Plains gave way to a desert, and a desert gave way to a forest. There were ravines, and hilltops. To her eternal credit, Rala was inexhaustible. In fact, it seemed as if the further we flew, the stronger she became—as if she had spent the whole of her life preparing for this flight. Which, in a way, was true.

“There it is,” Nadan said in something like an awed whisper.

Up ahead, dark against the dimming sky, stood the familiar towers of Tahkath. I half expected to shudder at the sight, but a faint nostalgia welled up inside me. I took it for a good sign.

Eager to get back, Nadan gave another snap of the reins, and Rala flew faster. The kingdom seemed to race toward us as we tore over the treetops. Rising higher, the whole of that enclosed world suddenly spilled beneath us.

If I had hoped for joy at seeing us, there was something I hadn’t counted on—none of the D’Tali had ever seen a pterosaur before. We might as well have been riding in on the back of a dragon. All the guards took to their heels, and all the ordered military bearing descended into scrambling chaos.

At least we knew how to make an entrance.

Nadan

For a second, I was worried the archers were going to start shooting.

After so long in our little paradise, that wouldn’t have been the best welcome back to civilization. Even that word ‘civilization’ seemed to sit uneasily in my mind. I’d never felt more civil or centered than I had during the months I’d spent with Janis in the Valley of the Ancestors. Returning to Tahkath felt oddly like surrender.

“It’s a human woman!” a voice below us rose above the rest. At the sound of it, I felt Janis tense up ever so slightly in front of me. I squeezed her fingers.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” She kept her eyes on the scurrying figures along the parapets and tops of the walls. “It’s just…”

“Hard to be back. I know.” Janis looked back at me, and I could tell how grateful she was for the understanding. “It’s the best thing.”

Releasing her hand, I traced a finger along the slight swell of her belly. The valley had offered us so many things, but I wasn’t confident it would be the safest place to birth our child.

“It will be wonderful,” she said. In her eyes, I could see the truth of it shining. “Once I’m past the shock of it, I know it will be.”

“It looks like you’re not the only one who’s shocked.” The flurry of activity had given over to a stunned stillness. Every eye watched us. Pulling on Rala’s reins, I kept her in a tight circle around the perimeter of the city.

We drew in lower, and I scanned for the best place to land. In the main square, just in front of the entrance to the castle, seemed as good a place as any. Swooping in over the rooftops, it was as if the air changed around us. A sense of being home flooded into my chest, and I cautioned myself against slipping too readily into the familiar.

This was a visit, not a homecoming.

The horde of onlookers parted, and Rala alit easily in their midst. Only once we were among the throng, did it occur to me how grateful I ought to be. I hadn’t even considered what it would be like for her to touch down amidst so many foreign creatures. Fortunately, having grown up in Janis’s and my hands, at least she had seen our kind before.

She hunkered low and tucked her wings, just like Janis had trained her, and I set about unstrapping myself from the flying harness. Once I was free and steady on my feet, I eased Janis down next to me. Naro was beside herself to get loose in Tahkath again, but she was just going to have to wait.

“Nadan?” I turned to find Dojak standing at the top of the steps into the main entrance.

“Sire.” I folded my hands and bowed my head. The protocol of offering honor to a king sat strangely on my skin. In the valley, we had been monarchs of our own little world.

He descended to us, his face a mask of disbelief. At the sight of her master, Naro became almost frantic with the need to be free. I worked at her straps. As soon as they were loose enough, she wriggled free and charged over to his knees. Even her leaping and snipping couldn’t shake the wonder from my king’s eyes.

“We thought you were dead.”

“Far from it.” Then, stepping to the side, I made room for Janis to stand next to me. “Sir, this is my mate, Janis.”

“Is she?”

For a moment, I worried that I had spoken too soon. By rights, the revelation of our bond should have been left to her. After all, her journey to me had been far longer and more tenuous than my journey to her. But when I looked, her face was bright with love and confidence.

“I am. The bond is something I could never have imagined until I felt it.” As she spoke, she ran an absentminded hand over her belly.

“Clearly you felt it very strongly,” Dojak said with a mischievous glint in his smile. “I can see why you’ve returned.” He beamed over her. “Where have you been? And what is this marvelous creature?” Fascinated, he passed us and stopped just shy of touching Rala.

“She’s a pterosaur,” Janis said. “Her name is Rala, and we raised her in the Valley of the Ancestors.”

Dojak turned back to us, even more amazed at where we had been than the mysterious creature sitting patiently in the square.

“The Valley of the Ancestors? You’ve been there?”

“It was our home,” I said, drawing Janis close to me in the crook of my arm. “There’s every possibility it might remain our home. Returning here was necessary, but there are some decisions that we need time to make.”

“Of course,” Dojak said. “But tell me…” his eyes shone “…what did you find?”

“My liege, the whole history of our people, laid out in their own hand. The place is sacred and vital at the same time. Our hope is that every D’Tali, Aetamian, and Lukadian will be able to make a pilgrimage to learn the secrets the valley has kept.”

“In time, Nadan. In time.” Dojak reached out and put his hands on each of our shoulders. “First, let us welcome you back to Tahkath. However long you choose to stay, I promise you shall be made as comfortable as if you were our brother. And Janis?” He looked her over with immense care. “Anything you require will be yours.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Given how ill at ease she had always felt among our people, my heart bloomed to see the way that the D’Tali king laid his realm at her feet.

“First, My Liege, is it possible we could find proper stalling for Rala?”

“Of course,” he said, turning back to admire our girl behind him.

While we had been speaking, a circle had begun to press in around her. One of the bolder among them had begun to scratch at the crest of her head and Rala was loving it. Far from being skittish at all the attention, she was clearly going to be a celebrity among the D’Tali.

“Rala?” Janis clicked her tongue and the winged sweetheart immediately turned toward my mate. “Come.”

She patted her thigh twice, and Rala fell into that low, shuffling walk she had when she wasn’t aloft. The charming scramble raised a disarmed laugh from the crowd of onlookers.

Clicking her tongue again, Janis swept her arm up and pointed to the eaves of one of the high towers. Rala shook herself all over, as if she had just come up from a pool and was drying herself. Then, rearing up, she stretched her wings and lifted off. Reaching the point Janis had pointed to, she folded in on herself and proceeded to cozy up.

“She’ll want meat,” Janis said, turning to Dojak. “At least ten pounds. It’s been a hard flight.”

“I think we can manage that.” With that, he waved for us to follow him into the palace.

As we did, the sea of people closed behind us, shifting as one to surround the bottom of Rala’s tower. Clearly, she was the star of the show. Even if our return seemed like a miracle, there were bigger wonders to behold.

“I have something you’re never going to believe,” Dojak announced as he stepped into the main hall. Sofia gave a small cry and got to her feet. Ania looked at us with the bewildered face of childhood, and I was surprised to see how much she had grown. Time had moved on without us.

“Oh, my God, Janis!” As she hugged my mate close, I stepped back to give room for their reunion. It had never occurred to me that they had been particularly friendly, but thinking back on what the ordeal of their initial kidnapping must have been like, the depth of their link felt natural. There’s nothing like adversity to bind people together.

“I’m alright,” Janis was saying quietly. “Better than alright, really.” There was a whispered conversation, that I only caught snatches of. From all I could manage to gather, Sofia was relieved that Janis had found an anchor in this world. Returning to her own was no longer an option.

“Here.” A cup of wine arrived at my elbow, and I took it to return Dojak’s toast. “Not only have you survived when the whole of our people thought you were lost, but you have come back with knowledge that will change our world.”

“Deepen our world, rather. All we discovered just serves to center the way we live.”

“Beyond that…” Dojak leaned in and raised his cup again. “Here’s to the bond, and to the future. I can only imagine that you are happy.”

“We both are, I think. And that’s what matters.”

“Indeed.” He nodded as if I had learned the true lesson behind it all.

Troko came in, clearly having heard the news. Camilia was beside him. She dove over to Janis, joining in the party over her pregnancy. I was treated to a hearty slap on the back, and more wine flowed.

The hall swelled with familiar faces until it was impossible to take them all in at once. It was joyous, and overwhelming, in equal measure. As grateful as I was for all the fellowship and good will, the room started to feel a little thick. And, if I was finding myself lost in it, I could only imagine what Janis must be feeling.

But we couldn’t put off our revelation indefinitely. I knew it could possibly change the fate of our people forever.

“Sire,” I said, “Janis and I have one more thing to tell you.”

Janis

“It’s hard to believe, but it feels good to be back.”

The discussion with the king had gone well, once he’d gotten over his shock. The Stone was under guard in an empty chamber for now, and Dojak had vowed no one would have access to it without our permission. There would be much, much more to discuss… but we would begin those discussions in the morning.

I glanced back at Nadan, just in time to see him close the door behind us. Once he turned around, he made a beeline toward me, his hands gently landing on my waist.

“It does, doesn’t it?” he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face.

He tucked it behind one ear, then leaned in to brush his lips against mine. He only intended it as a simple kiss, but I didn’t want to let go. I hooked my fingers on his shirt and pulled him in, slowly parting his lips with the tip of my tongue.

I led the way across the room, making a straight line toward the bed. One little push and Nadan fell back on it, the frame groaning under his weight.

“What’s this?” he asked, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips.

“We made it here. It doesn’t feel like home. The valley is home, but being back is better than I feared,” I replied, suddenly realizing how far I had come. Months ago, all I wanted was to be as far away from this place as was possible. Now, I didn’t mind being here so much. “I think that deserves a celebration, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Sitting up on the bed, he pulled me down to him, being very careful. I collapsed on top of his body, giggling like a schoolgirl, and laid my forehead against his. His eyes glowed faintly, the bond sign igniting across his skin. It happened every time without fail, and I never tired of it. It was one thing to know how much he loved me, but to actually be able to see it… well, that was special.

“I love you, Janis,” he whispered, his voice mellow and honeyed. “I love you so much.”

“Then prove it,” I teased him, closing the distance between us and nibbling at his bottom lip.

His hands wandered up the sides of my body, carefully taking in every detail of my curves, and found their resting place on my breasts. Once I felt his palms pressing down, my nipples became hard almost immediately, desire welling up inside me.

“I’ll prove it,” he finally said. “I’ll prove it now and every day for the rest of our lives.”

Even though he was the only man who’d ever made my heart race, that wasn’t happening then. Instead, my heartbeat was as steady as ever, a feeling of tranquility and peace flooding me. There was desire—there would always be desire—but love was stronger. With love came happiness.

Nadan’s unwavering patience had helped me trust again. If I wasn’t the luckiest girl in the galaxy, then I didn’t know who was.

I sat up on top of him, already feeling a hard shape pushing against his pants, and offered him a smile. With slow, teasing movements, I pulled my shirt over my head. Nadan reached for me, eager to unclasp my bra, but I just pushed his arms back down.

“Just enjoy,” I whispered, smiling as I brought one hand up and undid the clasp. The cups fell from my breasts in a slow arc. Nadan breathed in deeply, his eyes drawn by my hard nipples. I glanced at the expression on his face, one of pure bliss.

“What did I do to deserve this?” He sat up, one hand on the nape of my neck, and kissed me. This time I didn’t push him away. Instead, I just pulled his shirt up to his shoulders, allowing my naked breasts to kiss his exposed skin.

“You loved me.”

“And I always will, Janis.”

I kissed him again, deep and strong. His love, his passion enveloped me with his arms, holding me tight. Our love filled the hollow, hurt places inside of me. His appreciation for me had helped me quiet the vicious critic in my mind.

I rocked my hips, grinding against him. He moaned, clutching me tighter. He never got enough of me, but never asked for more than I could give. I’d traveled who knew how far from my planet of birth to find a love so perfect.

Creating some space between us, I slid one hand down his chest and tugged at his waistband. With a smile, he pulled them down his legs, kicking them off to the side. Giggling like teenagers the entire time, he helped get my pants off, too. Once all of our clothes lay piled in the corner, I pushed him back onto the mattress.

“I’m in charge today.” I grinned ear to ear, nipping at his lips.

He chuckled. “As you wish, my love. Queen of the Valley of the Ancestors.” I sat back on him, smiling down at his perfect face. His love for me shone in his eyes. I will never get tired of that look.

Never looking away from his eyes, I wrapped my fingers around his girth, enjoying how hard it felt in my palm. I rubbed it through my wetness, his length pressing along me, and started grinding against him once more. My fist moved up and down, stroking his shaft as I moved, and I kept a steady rhythm.

“Janis,” he breathed out, his eyes closing as the lines on his face deepened. “You’re killing me here.”

I know. A smile stretched across my face. I allowed his tip past my drenched lips. He pushed his hips up, ready to offer me all his length, but I slammed one hand down on his chest. I was in charge now, and that meant he’d have to wait.

I stroked the fingers of my other hand over the hard contours of his perfect abs, watching the bond sign dance across his scales. I remembered when I first saw the patterns of blue lights. Then, the sign had only stretched a short distance from my touch. Now, as my fingers slid across his chest, the bond sign streaked across his entire body.

“Janis,” he repeated, his voice throbbing in such a way that ripples of ecstasy spread across my body. I wasn’t just teasing him here—I was teasing myself. “I want you. I want you right now.”

I leaned into him, my lips brushing against his ear.

“What you want,” I whispered, “you get.”

With that, I closed my eyes and allowed his full length inside me, his thickness stretching me wide. I sat back up again, determined to give Nadan the time of his life.

Grinning like a woman gone mad, I started swaying my hips, taking my time as I built a rhythm. Nadan groaned. His hands stroked along my legs, my hips, my breasts. He kneaded them, running his thumbs over my hard, rosy peaks.

I rode him until locks of hair were plastered to my head, then redoubled my efforts and went even harder. Exhaustion gripped my muscles, but the passion coursing through my veins fueled me.

“You’re perfect,” Nadan said, his voice brimming with ecstasy. “Absolutely perfect.”

He slid both of his hands to my hips, pressing against my flesh, forcing me to slow down. He picked up the slack, pushing his hips up, and soon I was the one having the time of her life.

Each time Nadan drove his full length inside me, a loud moan spilled out from between my lips. My voice filled the entire room, the sound echoing inside my head, and time seemed to dissolve around us. Then and there, nothing existed but our naked bodies.

“Oh, God,” I muttered, pleasure swirling inside me like ribbons in the wind. My insides clenched up, ecstasy shot up my spine, and I was seized by a burning climax. My muscles twitched and trembled, and my brain burst into flames as it tried to process all the sensations.

I let out a quivering hiss as I came, squeezing my thighs together as I tried not to crash on top of Nadan.

“That was incredible,” Nadan whispered, sitting up while still inside me. “You are incredible.” He laid a gentle kiss on my lips, then wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for a gentle embrace.

“I know I’m incredible,” I whispered into his ear, “but we’re not done here.”

“No?”

“No,” I repeated. “Not yet.”

Epilogue: Nadan

Janis drove me crazy—in the best of ways.

It was hard to believe this was the same Janis who’d fled from camp all those months ago. She had been hurt, traumatized by her life experiences. Now, she sat atop me, open, free, joyful. Her laughter filled my heart and her love flew my soul to the highest peaks.

We had gone into the Wastelands. We had more than just survived—we had thrived. There, in the Wastelands, Janis had discovered herself, had achieved her goal. Now, here she was, ready to embrace life the way she deserved.

“I’m gonna want this every single day for the rest of my life,” she whispered, slowly rocking her hips in the most delicious of ways. We had grown quite experienced at this but, surprisingly, we had never stopped getting better. Every time we got naked, it was an opportunity to rediscover each other’s bodies. We made sure not to waste any of those opportunities, and it showed.

“You hear me?” she repeated. “Every day.”

I chuckled, bouncing her as she straddled me. I kept my hands on her backside, but I didn’t make a move—I just allowed myself to experience the smooth rocking motion of her body, my nerve endings crackling with pleasure.

“I didn’t know you were this insatiable,” I said, smiling at her, adoring her.

Janis’s face lit up. A wicked little smile spread across her lips, tiny dimples forming at the corners of her mouth. Just when I thought she couldn’t be more beautiful, she bloomed further.

“Humans say pregnant women glow. Not the way you glow, of course.” I could see her spirit radiating from her. Breathtaking. She continued to rock her hips on me.

“I had not heard that, but I agree. You only grow more beautiful each moment.”

She let out a small chuckle, then squeezed her inner muscles around me. I couldn’t help but groan, a pleasant shiver running up my spine. I had to make a very conscious effort not to let go. With her, I struggled to maintain self-control.

“It’s your fault I’m like this. You spoiled me.”

“You’ve got a point there.”

Smiling, I started moving my hips at the same pace as hers, our bodies moving in perfect sync. I never thought it’d be possible to achieve such a depth of intimacy with anyone, even if that person was my own mate. With Janis, though… everything was possible. There was no limit to what we could achieve.

“As long as we remain together, my love, the world is ours to conquer.”

“Promise me,” she continued, her voice dropping into a mellow whisper. “Promise me that we’ll be together.”

“Always. My heart would crack without you.” I cupped her face with one hand, looking her straight in the eyes. I was ready to promise her the world. “I’m never going to leave your side, Janis. Until the night comes for us, we’re going to be together. And, even then, when our final breath comes… I will follow you into the dark.”

“Together,” she repeated, closing her eyes as she leaned in. “Always.”

We kissed once more, our bodies settling into a feverish crescendo, and the warmth of our bodies transformed into a scorching heat. We surrendered ourselves to our raging inferno of passion.

We tangled in the sheets as we moved, but barely noticed it. We remained coiled around each other, her legs wrapped around my waist, and rode ourselves straight into oblivion. I didn’t even notice it happening. By the time I realized, my entire body burned from the inside out. Every fiber of my being succumbed to an onslaught of pleasure.

“I love you,” I said, enjoying the way those three little words rolled off my tongue. I had said them a million times already, but I never felt it to be enough. Until the day I died, I was going to make sure she’d know that I lived for her… and for our family. They were my guiding star. My purpose. My mission. Whatever happened in the future, I’d always make sure to protect them.

“I love you too,” she whispered, and kept riding me until the quivering sound of our voices crying out in joy filled the room.

We came at the same time, a tidal wave of ecstasy crashing against us both. We tensed, trembled in place, and held each other while we succumbed to pleasure. Skin and flesh became meaningless in that moment. Our souls reached out and become tangled in each other. As always happened, we became one, the barriers that existed between us vanishing into nothingness.

Just the way it should be.

“I can’t believe how good we are,” Janis said moments later, sprawled on the bed beside me.

We remained lying there for a long time, completely naked, while we listened to the hustle and bustle going on inside the city walls. Inside this tiny room, just the two of us, it was hard to believe there was a world outside these four walls.

“We’re pretty incredible, aren’t we?” I rolled to the side and smiled. Gently, I ran my fingers over the rising curve of her belly. Even though it was probably too early for that, I was eager to feel my child. “And our incredible team is about to become even more incredible.”

Janis let out a bright laugh, surprising me, and swung her legs off the bed. I sat up, curious about what she was doing. I watched as she draped a bed sheet around her naked body. She tiptoed her way toward the windows and flung them open, allowing a gust of wind to sneak into the room.

The wind carried the clamor of merchants, the braying of numas, and the shouts of training soldiers. Occasionally, I could even hear the bright laughter of a woman. Tahkath brimmed with life, the joy that filled the city almost palpable. And all thanks to these women. They had come here in a cloud of fire, crash-landed into our lives, and made us better because of it.

Much like Janis had done, I wrapped a sheet around my waist and joined her by the window. I leaned forwards, my hands resting on the window’s bottom edge, and took a deep breath. I relished the smell of spices, the coolness of the air, and the scent of the woman who stood beside me.

“You know,” Janis said, “I’m glad that the ship didn’t work.”

“What?”

“When they were testing it out, I prayed so hard for it to work. I prayed to any god who would listen.” She looked at me. “I begged the universe to rescue me. I thought that, if they managed to get it flying, that I’d be able to go back to Earth. Back to my old life. I didn’t know it at the time, but… that’s not what I needed.”

She turned to face me, her sweet smile dancing on her lips. She slid her arms around my waist. I wrapped her in mine. “What I needed was you.”

“Janis…”

“One thing hasn’t changed, though.” She went on tiptoes and kissed the tip of my nose. “All this time, the only thing I’ve ever wanted was to go home.” She turned back to the window, eyes open wide, and took a deep breath. “And home is where you are, Nadan.”

I kissed her deeply.

“As you are my home, Janis.”

“And, when our child is ready, Nadan, we will return to the Valley of the Ancestors.”

“As you wish, my love.”

* * *

Some books are easy, some books are hard — and Janis’ story was hard to tell.

For everyone fighting their own demons, I wish you all the love (and your own pterodactyl.)

Next up for our D’tali Warriors and their mates? An old enemy shows up to complicate life…

I wasn't planning to find a mate with the alien warriors. But now that I have, I'm not giving up.

I didn't expect to find happiness on this strange new world. Just a quiet life. A second chance.

Until I met him. He makes my breath catch, my heart lighter, every time I see him. Broad shoulders, a killer smile, graceful horns...

But when we finally realize what what we have together, a danger from the past tears us apart.

Too bad my kidnappers have seriously underestimated me...

Stolen from her Alien Mate is the seventh book of the Warriors of the D'Tali science fiction romance series. Each book contains a complete HEA for our couple, and lots of steamy SFR fun!

Click here to get Stolen from her Alien Mate now!

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Rekker

Rekker wasn't expecting to be matched.

On the eve of being sent to retrieve a mysterious artifact, he's sent something just as enigmatic.

A human woman, lush and curved.

His mate.

Even worse, she wants nothing to do with him.

His blood burns for her, but the need to make her happy overrides everything.

He'll find a way to set her free, even if it means he'll be alone. Forever.

But when danger comes from an unexpected source, they're thrown together. And when his mate turns to him, he'll protect her.

Keep her.

Claim her.

Lila Kanes never wanted any thing but a quiet life on her family farm. She certainly didn't want to be claimed by a massive alien mate.

Thrown into the stars, she'll do whatever it takes to find a way home.

Back to Earth.

Back to her family.

She couldn't possibly want to stay with the hot, horned alien with the amazing body, who made her feel like the most precious thing in the universe, could she?

Right?

Rekker is the first book of the Warriors of Vaznik, a stand alone series in the Warlord Brides universe. There's no cheating, and a guaranteed HEA for each couple!

Click here to keep reading Rekker, book one of the Vaznik Warrior Mates!

Kazan

An alien warrior resolved to return to battle. A woman determined to get back to her life.

They'll fight the match, but can they fight fate?

A mate is the last thing on my mind.

Especially one as sassy as the human female they say is my match.

Even if her lush curves call for my touch, and her fiery spirit is equal to my own.

I will endure the thirty days demanded by the Protocol.

But with every look, every word, I can feel us bound closer together.

Will I be able to leave her, even for her own safety?

Kazan is the first book of the Jorkan Protocol Mates. Spend the night with this perfect steamy, funny science fiction romance escape. There's no cheating, and a guaranteed HEA for each alien warrior and his mate! Hot, steamy alien yumminess!

Click to get it now!

Rogue Mate

Science fiction romance is the destination of the Rogue Star…. Hop on board!

Our rescuers are a group of pirates. Or smugglers. They're not exactly answering questions, either.

More importantly, they're giant, golden skinned aliens...

And their rogue of a captain seems very interested in the little human commander.

Me.

Rogue Mate is the first in the Rogue Star science fiction alien romance series. Click now to start the adventure!

Copyright © 2020 by Ava York

All rights reserved. These books or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the Author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.