I'm not.
I'm relieved. I wanted to kiss him. That I could admit, at least to myself. But it would have opened up a whole can of worms I'm just not ready for. So what if I'm a little disappointed? This is for the best. I'm just going to keep reminding myself of that.
I'm so distracted by my internal dialogue about what just happened, I don't even realize who is standing next to Ormarr until we're almost upon them. Next to him is a beautiful woman, with long dark hair and a strong presence.
A potent mixture of confusion and excitement jolts through me. Being summoned by Rosalind is not a usual occurrence. Having her show up in person... A twinge of worry colors my emotions. The Lady General is a busy and important woman. Why is she here?
"Hello," she greets us, even her voice sage and strong, that of a self-assured woman. Sometimes I feel as though she is the perfect role model—calm, composed, intelligent, decisive. Bashir and I murmur our own greetings as I wonder if she ever has moments of doubt. Perhaps she simply hides it better than the rest of us. She smiles at us now.
"Ormarr has been generous enough to allow me to go through the starter tonics he has brewed so that I may take some back to the apothecary."
"You are always welcome to medicine," Ormarr says, nodding at her.
" I appreciate that," she acknowledges.
This cannot be the only reason she is here.
She could have designated the task easily enough. She might be going through the tonics, but Ormarr no doubt advised her of what would be most useful.
When she turns back to us with a purpose, I know I am correct. We've only been standing there for a minute perhaps, but I already feel the suspense building.
"That is not the only reason I am here, as I am sure you have guessed." She looks between Bashir and me. "I came to recruit you two for an important mission—I believe you are both the best candidates to send to the New Villagers to represent us and help forge a relationship."
What?
I'm set back on my heels by this. The possibility wasn't even on my radar. She thinks we'd be good representatives for something so sensitive?
I share a glance with Bashir, who looks equally surprised. I turn back to Rosalind, trying to conceal my negative reaction.
"Can I ask why you think so?" I venture carefully, then add quickly, "though I am flattered at being chosen..."
"No need to appear so shocked," she responds with a of humor. "Bashir here makes for an excellent diplomat—I've seen how he deals with the other Zmaj." That was true enough. I'd witnessed it myself. He's very good at remaining calm and calming others, a good trait to have when negotiating anything. "He is also a good protector and guide." Bashir inclines his head at her. She turns to me. "And you, Penelope, you are someone I hope they will trust. It will be a good thing for them to see that you have accepted life with the Zmaj, that you can live side by side with them even after your past experience with abduction."
That all sounds plausible, but I'm distracted by something else. There's a suspicious knowing gleam in Rosalind's eye when she looks between Bashir and me. Can she guess? Is it so obvious, the tension between us? Did she see how close we were to kissing? Or am I reading too much into a simple look?
This will drive me crazy.
I brush it off. Even if she suspects something, it doesn't matter. I've recovered my head, and I won't be acting like a lovesick schoolgirl with Bashir anymore. I'm done. I plan to take this mission very seriously. Rosalind can trust me.
"This is an honor," I finally say, overwhelmed at being chosen for something like this, something so critical. "I will do my best."
"I'm sure you will," she agrees gently.
As she gives us the details of our new positions as ambassadors to the New Village, tasked with extending an olive branch, I try my best not to let my awe of General Rosalind distract me from focusing. I just feel so honored. Honored, and also embarrassed at how easily I let my dignity slip with Bashir. I will not make that mistake again. I need to be more like Rosalind—devote myself to what needs to be done, keep my mind on duty. I need to prove to myself that I can do this, that I can be a valuable member of society here.
We don't have a lot of time after we are hit with this news. Bashir and I immediately start to pack and ready ourselves for the trip. This isn't something that can be put off. Rosalind wants us to make the journey back to the city with her and her attendant in the morning. Which means there also isn't much time to think about what we're going to be doing, something that is almost a blessing in itself. It means I don't have time to feel too much anxiety.
The journey is boring—something I am grateful for, honestly. Boring is good. Boring is safe. I can be friends with boring.
When we arrive at the city, I spend a little while taking it in. It's an example of what Tajss used to be, what the Zmaj were able to create at one point. Before the Devastation, before the series of events that set them back to the Stone Age as a civilization. Yes, there are broken windows and twisted steel, lending an air of past tragedy to the place. But it proves that they had the know-how, had the technology to build something so advanced and impressive. It also means it could be done again. I know it can.
Rosalind moves forward and punches in the code to let us in through the protective dome, the first door and then the second closing behind us.
The processed stone feels a little strange under my feet after walking on the sand outside for so long. People walk around, going along with their day as we arrive, some calling out greetings to Rosalind. She acknowledges them as she speaks to us.
"I think it would be prudent for you two to speak with Sarah before you leave," she informs us.
"I think you're right," I say, and Bashir nods, so that is our first stop.
I don't know what I'm expecting when I first see Sarah, but it isn't to find her so healthy and doing so well. I feel a rush of gratitude as she greets me by running over and throwing her arms around me. She's doing so much better than the word around the tribe was suggesting!
"You look great!" I exclaim as I return her hug.
For a while there, we all thought we'd lost her. I've never felt so good about being so wrong.
She laughs, ending our hug with a tight squeeze.
"I feel good," she agrees, rubbing her round belly. "And it's good to see you too! How was your journey?" she asks, including Bashir.
We chat a bit, getting caught up with things, but the talk quickly turns to why we're here.
"I have directions to give you," Sarah informs me. "But I'd also like to make a request—I miss my kedi and I would like it back, if at all possible."
Kedi? I look over at Bashir, completely confused as to what she's asking for.
"We will bring the creature back," Bashir agrees, before looking over at me. "It is a small and furry creature. Harmless," he says. "A pet."
"Picard is a sweetheart," Sarah reassures me, her eyes imploring. "Please?"
"Of course," I agree, patting her hand with a smile. Small, furry, and harmless are all words I can get behind. "We will make it so," I say with a twinkle in my eye.
She laughs in response, shaking her head at the reference.
"I really appreciate it."
Then she gets down to business. I take out my book and take careful notes, drawing a simple map with the landmarks she describes. It's a vast desert out there. When you’re traveling, sometimes mile after mile can look exactly the same. Details are important, so I make sure to record all of them, even the ones that don't seem so important right now.
"...I think that's about it," she finally says, sitting back.
"Great," I say, taking another look at my notes before closing my book. "Thank you so much Sarah."
"I'm glad to help. Come visit again—maybe when you don't have something this big to stress over."
I chuckle, standing.
"Yeah. I will."
Bashir and I say our goodbyes and leave her to go about her day.
"She s
eems much better than I would have expected," Bashir remarks as we head out.
"Yes," I say curtly.
He gives me an odd look before sliding back into silence. And not a companionable one. I feel a twinge of guilt but strengthen my resolve again. I've been trying to keep our interaction on a professional level, not engaging more than necessary. Maybe I'm a bit sharper than I was, but I need to keep him at a distance. The sooner he realizes that's what I want, the better off we'll be in the long run.
When he doesn't show up to dinner later that night, opting to eat in his quarters instead, it’s clear that he’s gotten the picture. I manage to annoy myself by missing him, but I suppress it. This is for the best. We need to limit familiarity with each other.
Even though I accept that on an intellectual level, images of Bashir are all I see in my mind’s eye when I try to sleep that night.
"Damn it," I mutter to myself, turning over again, punching my pillow in aggravation. It's stupid, but I feel frustrated and irritated that he's decided to stay away from me now. As if only I should have the control over whether or not we spend time together. Immature and childish, but there we have it. I am, apparently, immature and childish when it comes to Bashir. My behavior so far certainly supports that theory. I slam my eyes closed. I have to just let it go. I need my rest.
Tomorrow, we're going to set out for the New Village. Travel can be grueling on Tajss. It will be no picnic, to say the least. I know that. But try as I might, sleep does not come easily. I finally fall into a fitful, light slumber that doesn't leave me feeling like I've slept much at all.
The lack of sleep does not help my mood in the morning. Not that it matters. We have to leave on schedule.
We set out from the city early, before the suns are high in the sky and the day is at its hottest.
"Have a safe trip," Rosalind says, there at the exit from the domed city of Draconis to see us off.
"Thank you," I murmur, turning toward Bashir. "We'll try to make good time."
"I'm more concerned that you are successful in opening up communication channels with them," Rosalind says.
"We shall put forth every effort," Bashir reassures her gravely.
And that's it. With one last wave, we leave the dome. We're off to the races—or the New Village.
I open my book, going to the first step in the directions Sarah provided.
"Are you sure this is the correct direction?" I ask as we start walking.
Bashir looks over at me, his eyes flicking down to my open book. His mouth tightens as he sees my notes.
"I know how to navigate on Tajss," he says, a slight hint of condescension in his tone. He turns away again and continues walking.
All right then. I roll my eyes.
We keep walking, taking a turn at a grouping of rocks.
"Is this the correct one?" I ask, looking over at it skeptically. "Sarah said it looked kind of like a moose." I squint at the rocks. Maybe if I tilt my head a little...
"These are the only rocks in sight," Bashir says, forced patience in his tone. "Whether or not they are shaped exactly as described does not matter as much as the location."
I look around and realize he's right. There's nothing else to compare to.
When I look back at him, he's staring at me, his gaze sardonic. I nod, moving forward briskly. A hear a sigh escape him, can almost feel the frustration coming off him in waves. Irritated myself, I glance over at him as we keep walking.
I completely lose my train of thought when my eyes land on his bare arms, his muscles gleaming in the sunlight. Whatever rippling is? That's exactly what they're doing—and doing it well.
Focus!
I look away quickly, back down to my book. It takes a while for the lines on the paper to enter my eyes and make shapes in my brain that eventually turn into words with meanings, but I do finally manage it as we keep walking.
I hate the desert. That must be what’s messing with my mind. It sucks the life right out of you, the unrelenting suns and the miles and miles of sand. At least it looks like we're making good progress so far. That's some consolation.
"There—we shall travel to the right of that oasis," Bashir announces, pointing the way.
I look up. Sure enough, there's another landmark. I glance down to read the snippet about it as we near.
"I shall lead," Bashir announces, his eyes watchful as he steps ahead.
I feel irritation rise again. No, he is not going to just commandeer the mission here. I won't let him. I step ahead of him deliberately.
"I'm capable of leading," I counter, hurrying forward. "And there aren't any signs of danger that I was warned to look out for."
Bashir lets out a frustrated huff of breath.
"You do not know—"
"I have the route right here in my encyclopedia," I interrupt him, waving the book in my hand as we reach the oasis. "Don't even worry about—"
I let out a short scream as Bashir's hand closes on my arm, and he pulls me back sharply. My hands automatically grip him, adrenaline pumping through me hard at the abrupt pull. It takes me a moment to realize how close I am to Bashir.
Really close. Definitely too close. I can feel him all along my front, our bodies almost vibrating against each other at the contact.
As soon as I realize it, I take a large step back, trying to summon the indignation I should be feeling at the manhandling.
"Why did you—"
"You were going to walk into that cvet," Bashir admonishes me, pointing. "I thought perhaps you would like to remain whole."
I follow his gesture to the large fleshy plant with the orange and red center, its big leaves shivering slightly. Swallowing, I take an even bigger step back this time. Cvet are carnivorous. They secrete a paralytic poison and then digest their prey. If it hadn’t been for Bashir, that big one would have gotten me, all because I was focused on my book and not the environment.
"Oh," I mutter, trying not to freak out at how close I was to disaster. Needing something to do, I crouch down to pick up my book. I'd dropped it when Bashir had yanked me back.
"What are you doing?" Bashir asks suspiciously.
I take a deep breath, flipping through the pages.
"Trying to orient myself on the map," I say.
I don't want him to see me as dead weight, as a useless addition to this trip.
"I know another route," he counters firmly.
I look up at him, scowling.
"Sarah went to the trouble of describing exactly how to get there—"
"It's useless now," he interrupts again. "Do you see that rock formation over there? We're supposed to use that path at the base."
I follow his arm to where he’s pointing and see exactly what he means. There is no path. Rocks fill what must have once been a way through the large grouping. There must have been a cave-in at some point.
This time, he doesn't bother to say he will lead, and he doesn't ask me to follow him. He just starts moving forward, assuming I'll follow. Frustrated and embarrassed, I hustle to reach his side.
The worst part is I know he's right about everything he said.
It's damn annoying.
Chapter Six
Bashir
I understand Penelope's desire for control, but relying on a book instead of me in this case is utterly ridiculous! No amount of words on a page are worth more than actual experience, not out here in Tajss where dangers lurk around every corner. It is not as if I do not know where we are going.
Her constant doubts and second-guessing are irritating me to no end. I tried to be gentle with her, but she has proven to be hardheaded. She is quiet now as I lead the way, and I know she is not happy with how I have handled things.
Tough.
She almost walked right into that cvet because her nose was buried in the pages of her encyclopedia. I will only humor her so far, and safety is a hard line. I will lead for her safety and mine, and she will simply have to come to terms with it. I glance over at her, seein
g the hard set to her jaw and the sweat she wipes from her brow as she keeps walking with determination.
I soften somewhat.
She is not made for Tajss. She is attempting to control a situation she is simply not equipped for. Sighing, I turn my eyes forward again and continue walking—
The sand explodes in front of us, the impact of something hitting the ground reverberating underneath us. Small rocks are shooting from the sky itself, tails of fire trailing behind them as they fall towards the ground, the whistling noise made by the speed at which they are traveling reaching my ears. They are rushing towards us. We don't have much time. Shelter. We must find shelter now.
I turn to Penelope. She is frozen in shock, staring up at the sky.
"Pardon me," I say quickly, not waiting for an answer before I scoop her up and easily settle her onto my shoulder. She lets out a squeak.
"What are you doing?" she demands, her body stiff in my hold. I start to run as fast as I can. In this case, her feelings will have to wait.
"We must find cover," I say grimly.
Then there is no more time to talk, all my energy taken up with avoiding the molten rocks slamming into the ground around me. Sand stings my eyes as one hits just a few feet away, the impact leaving me stumbling for a moment, but I recover quickly. Growling with effort, I launch myself forward even faster, using my wings to leap long distances, twisting in midair to avoid the meteorites.
They are coming more and more quickly. Soon I will not be able to dodge them at all, as they will come down in a denser pattern. One hit to either of us and we could be dead. It wouldn’t matter how small the rock was—they are going too fast.
Gritting my teeth, I push every ounce of speed out of my body. I must get Penelope to safety, whether or not she is truly my treasure. I am not as hopeful as I was. She certainly does not trust me until I insist upon it, and that is not the way I prefer to engage with people. Certainly not my mate. Perhaps she is not mine after all. I just barely pull myself back before another rock hits the ground, driving home the point that I must focus on the present for now. I know a semi-adequate shelter nearby that we may be able to reach, a shallow cave that is much better than being in the open like this.
Dragon's Claim Page 4