Dragon's Hope (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 4)

by Miranda Martin

  Words flow out of her so fast I can barely keep up. She makes plans for an expedition without my input. Her face shines with joy and a warm glow radiates from my core. I nod along with her then she runs, I have to stretch my longer legs to keep up.

  It takes a couple of hours before we're ready to leave. Her excitement hasn't diminished in the slightest and it's infectious. My scales tingle with anticipation, at last, we'll be alone. While I have an ulterior motive to this trip, I will teach her how to survive. Unlike most of her race, she's open to learning. She doesn't filter everything through her hatred of my home like the others do; her interest is pure and beautiful.

  Lana bounces from one foot to the other, rolls her shoulders to adjust her pack, and shifts her staff from hand to hand. The grin hasn't left her face. Rosalind is waiting with her. The human female alpha is tall, dressed in her clean white outfit that flows around her body. When she moves, it's as if she walks in a cloud. Her long, dark hair falls past her shoulders and her regal face projects an aura of command.

  I like Rosalind. She's strong and in control. I admire her strength. Rosalind puts her hand out as I approach which I take in the human gesture of greeting. We clasp each other's wrists and nod.

  "Astarot."

  "Rosalind," I smile.

  "Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asks, cutting straight to the chase, another trait I like about her.

  "As good as any," I shrug. "We need food. The supplies are dwindling fast."

  "Right but sending just two of you out there? It's not bad enough that the entire planet is a death trap ready to kill you for the slightest mistake, there are still the pirates too."

  Tightening my jaw I nod my understanding. The pirates, who not only crashed the humans' ship here, but have terrorized my race for all of my memory. Slavers, we call them Zzlo. I haven't seen signs of them since the devastation, but that could be just because those of us who survived didn't talk to each other. Or maybe they weren't interested in a small handful of Zmaj. Before the devastation they would raid smaller villages and towns, taking the able bodied and selling them for profit.

  "Yes, they are a concern," I agree.

  "It doesn't matter, the whole point is to learn to survive," Lana interjects.

  "The whole point is to not lose any of the few assets we have," Rosalind counters.

  Lana's face flushes red as her mouth snaps shut.

  "I understand, Rosalind. You're right, but if there are not more hunters, capable hunters, then we will not survive. The food supply will not fill itself and there are only a handful of Zmaj. We cannot provide for this many."

  Rosalind purses her lips and I see the wheels turning behind those sharp eyes of hers. She knows I'm right but isn't ready to concede the point. Lana looks between the two of us biting her lower lip, waiting.

  "So what are you thinking, long term?" Rosalind asks at last.

  "That we need more hunters," I say, but it's obvious this doesn't answer her question. "If I can train Lana to hunt on her own, she can then lead her own party. If we can train a handful, over time, who can hunt on their own and lead their own parties-"

  "We end up with a surplus," Rosalind cuts me off nodding. "Okay, I get it and you're not wrong."

  "Thank you," I say.

  "Remember this Astarot," she says, serious. "As you said, there are not enough Zmaj. We cannot survive on this planet without you. I can't afford to lose you anymore than I want to lose her."

  I nod my understanding. Rosalind holds her hand out and once more we grasp wrists. Lana grins over Rosalind's shoulder.

  "Four days," I tell her. "If we're not back in four days, something is wrong."

  "Okay," Rosalind says. "Don't be late."

  The airlock of the dome over the city makes a swooshing sound even as Rosalind speaks. Lana will not give her a chance to change her mind.

  Together we head out into the desert. The heat rises as we step into the airlock. When the outer door opens warm wind blasts us with sand.

  "Damn it," Lana curses, wiping at her eyes.

  My outer lids closed before the sand could affect me but she has no such response. She stumbles as we exit the airlock, bumping into the outer wall. Taking her by the shoulder I guide her out, then touching her chin I lean her head back so I can look. Leaning in to see her eyes brings our lips so close mine tingle. Her lips are full, pouty, ready for mine.

  No, push that aside.

  "I'm fine," Lana says, shaking her head as she wipes her eyes on last time.

  She steps back from me.

  "Okay," I say.

  "Which way?" she asks.

  "I thought we'd go to an oasis I know of," I say. "There is much to learn in the oases of Tajss."

  "Great!" she says and we're off.

  Rolling dunes of sand cast in striations of red, white, and tans surround the city. I lead us around the dome. We've come out on the northern side. The oasis I want to lead us to is southwest of the city. The humans shipwreck is in this direction as well and while I know there were pirates there, Shidan and Amara had a run in with them, which I hope has kept them from this area. Sverre spotted them operating to the northwest of the city before that where we left them unmolested. It's a guess and a chance but without more information there's not any other way to proceed.

  "Damn, this is hard," Lana says. We've been walking for two hours and are making slower progress than I'd planned for. "I need wings like you."

  "It would help," I say, folding my wings in.

  "Ugh, okay, there has to be a better way than this," she says, fighting her way out up the dune we're climbing.

  I hold my hand out to help her. She stares at it, frowning, then shakes her head.

  "It's okay," I say.

  "No, it's not," she counters. "If I will hunt on my own, I can't depend on you or any other Zmaj."

  "You won't be on your own," I observe.

  "You know what I mean!" she snaps.

  Beads of moisture run down her face which is flushed red. Gritting her teeth, she pulls her left foot out from the loose sand it has sunken into and places it back down but it doesn't matter. Her foot sinks in to halfway up her calf. She repeats the same steps with her other leg but I can see the effort is exhausting her. Despite my bigger size, my wings and tail make travel across the loose sand easy. My wings lighten my weight, my tail guides, and I can move along the top of the sand spending minimal effort. Zmaj wings won't allow us to fly but they're ideal for traveling on Tajss.

  "I need a break," she says as we reach the top of the dune.

  She pulls out her water bottle, takes a long sip, then digs through her pack until she finds the epis. Tearing a small piece of the plant off she chews on it while she stares out across the desert, deep in thought. Dazzling beams of light dance across the rolling dunes as the suns continue their passage across the sky. It's beautiful, but it doesn't compare to Lana. The button up shirt she wears stretches tight across the mounds of her chest. I love the lines of her form. The curve of her side as it swells out to her hips, the way it curves back in down to her perfect feet.

  Everything about her is stunning. My hearts skip every other beat while I lose myself in dreams of being with her once more but not in her foreign idea of a 'one-night stand'. I want her in a proper way. Forever. The Zmaj way. I know she's the one. We are meant, one for another. I know this with the same certainty I know the suns will rise in the morning. It is. There is no question.

  She finishes chewing the epis then takes another drink of water. Wiping the moisture from her brow she turns, picks up her pack and settles it onto her shoulder, then grabs her staff. Turning she arches an eyebrow. Words being unnecessary we resume our hike.

  I offer my help to her many times. As the day grows longer, she takes my offer more often. The strain is wearing on her. I admire her perseverance. The suns are low on the horizon when I see the outline of the oasis in the distance. The massive baoba trees stretch high on the horizon calling us forward. An oasis i
s a dangerous place while also being vital to any hunter. It is a source of water and it brings to it most of the wildlife of Tajss.

  "Do you see it?" I ask, when we break.

  "Huh?" Lana pants, she's bent over and resting her hands on her knees.

  "The oasis," I say, pointing into the distance.

  She straightens and shields her eyes with her hands. Her brow furrows in concentration, creating an adorable wrinkle between her eyebrows. She drops her hands to her side shaking her head.

  "No," she says, frowning. "Maybe. There's a shadow on the horizon, it's all I see."

  "That is it," I assure her. "It's not far now, maybe an hour."

  "It will be dark by the time we get there," she says, wiping the moisture from her face again.

  "Yes," I agree.

  She sighs as she shifts the pack on her back. "Okay, let's do this."

  She walks then I feel it.

  "Stop!" I hiss, my voice low.

  She turns around, throwing her hands in the air. "Stop? Why?" she says, too loudly.

  The ground rumbles beneath us. A few hundred yards behind her the sand shifts, vibrating, a line of shaking sand turns towards her. My stomach clenches tight. Lana shakes her head as she turns again to continue walking.

  "No," I hiss, reaching for her.

  "What?" she shouts.

  The rumbling increases, vibrating my bones. The line of shifting sand comes straight for her. Watching her eyes widen, she looks down, her jaw dropping. She looks up, meets my eyes then she's thrown into the air as the ground beneath her explodes up and out.

  6

  Lana

  I'm flying. No clue what the hell is going on but I'm flying. I left my stomach behind on the ground where I was just standing. Astarot was telling me to stop and stand still. It irritated the hell out of me because I'm hot and tired. I want to get where we're going so I can lie down. Now this.

  Something screams, a screeching sound ripping at my ears. I spin head over heel then I'm looking at the ground. Everything freezes as I stare down. This will hurt. My mind races through possibilities. How can I get out of this? Is there anyway that this won't hurt like hell? A hundred then a thousand ideas come and go. After the last one leaves on thing is clear, I'm screwed. I take a deep breath, pull my legs up to my chest, tuck my head and then time speeds up.

  I hit the ground hard, knocking my breath out as I crash. I can't get in air. Inhaling does nothing. My lungs scream in desperation, unable to take back the oxygen they need. Something pops in my back. Pain explodes throughout my body in a flash of white, overriding the desperate need to breathe.

  Somehow I feel separate from my body. I know I'm in trouble but a cool, calm sensation falls over me, like it's happening to someone else instead of me. A story I'm reading but not feeling. Strange. Sand, sky, sand, sky as I tumble away from where I was standing. Life was good over there, what the hell happened? I slam into a boulder protruding from the sand. It hurts like hell but it also knocks sense back into my lungs. Air pours in, relieving the burning. A trade off I suppose, the blinding pain of impact lessened in my gratitude of inhaling.

  I'm hurt, but not bad. I don't think anything broke though I'll have bruises all to hell and back. Okay, next. As a hunter, this is the life I'm choosing. What would Astarot do? Get to you feet girl!

  Good idea. My hands sink into the loose hand as I work my way to my knees.

  My heart stops when I look and see what it is, a zemlja. One of the single most dangerous creatures on a planet filled with plants and animals all of which are trying to kill you. The zemlja make Tajss special, or did before the great war that devastated it.

  The zemlja rises fifteen feet out of the ground, waving its long, worm-like body back and forth as it screeches. Thick, protective scales cover its body. Zemlja hunt by sound and vibration, traveling under the ground like an earthworm, leaving massive tunnels in their wake as they traverse the planet in constant motion. Where they travel is where the epis grows. The secretions they leave behind are necessary for its growth.

  Astarot crouches a few feet in front of it on the dune. He looks over and shakes his head. I stop moving. Now I understand. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I should have listened to him. The zemlja swings around from its hole in the ground. The eyeless head that is nothing more than a mouth filled with rows of razor sharp teeth pointing in my direction.

  I stop breathing in fear as much as a desire to make no noise. The muscles in my arms quiver. A tear slides down my cheek as it looks at me then rises back up in the air and swings a full circle. Slowly it lowers itself below the ground until it disappears leaving only a dark hole where it was. The ground rumbles, ever so slightly, as it travels away.

  I'm still too scared to breathe. I don't move, Astarot doesn't move either. We're frozen in place staring at each other, waiting. I don't know how long we remain before at last he rises. His wings spread and he leaps into the air, gliding over to land in front of me. He grabs me from the ground and wraps me in his massive, strong arms.

  I gasp, shudder, then the tears I've been holding back overtake me. Relief opens the floodgates of barely contained emotions. He grips me tight as I cry on his shoulder, wrapping my arms around him. Holding me tight, he doesn't say a word; he doesn't have to. In his arms, I'm safe. I've never been more grateful to someone else since my adopted mother.

  "I'm sorry," I say, my voice cracking.

  "It's fine," he says, his voice full of reassurance, without a hint of incrimination.

  "I should have listen-"

  He grabs my shoulders and forces me back until he meets my eyes, cutting me off.

  "No," he says. "Do not do that. That is not the way of a hunter. Regret will bring you nothing but block learning. What can we learn from this?"

  Drawing in a long, shaky breath, I clear my thoughts. What can I learn?

  "Listen to you," I say.

  "More," he says, insistent. "What if I am not there?"

  A strange emptiness fills my core as I look at that idea. Astarot not there? Strange, it was my idea, I'm the one who sold the idea to Rosalind, but I didn't think about it. It was just an idea that made sense without thinking of the reality. I don't like the idea of him not being there. Still, he's right. I'm here to learn, I must open my mind, find the lesson he is trying to teach.

  I replay the incident again. Trying to pay attention to every detail. Find the things I didn't notice when it was happening. There! A vibration. I felt it but I ignored it. It was slight, subtle, but it was there.

  "The vibration," I say, awe in my voice at my insight.

  "Yessssss!" he says, his excitement drawing the S out into a hiss.

  Pride swells my heart. His smile is like a beam of bliss. I've never felt more alive.

  "I felt it but I didn't pay attention, that was the sign that a zemlja was nearby."

  "Good Lana. You must always be aware of all your senses are telling you. It will keep you alive if you learn to trust in them and hone your instincts."

  My hand is on his cheek. The rough edges of his scales tease my fingertips as I slide my hand forward. The scales tint a greenish color at the edges under my touch. Rising onto my toes my lips find his and we kiss. His cock stiffens, digging into my abdomen, but I'm not doing that here. This is a fling. That's all. He's my mentor, it's a mistake to confuse our relationship. He can't be my teacher and my lover both. As a lover he'd want to protect me, hide me away, like the other Zmaj treat their mates. I want more than that, need more than that. I'm finding my place in this world. A place where I belong, nothing can stop that.

  Our lips smack as we part. Lights dance in his eyes. The moment stretches between us and part of me knows. I want more, he wants more, but no. Not now and not like this. Keep it simple. I have to find a balance. Taking my hand from his face I look around and spot my pack where it flew off. Retrieving it, I spot my staff and get that. I can feel Astarot's stare as I gather my stuff. He doesn't say a word but I know.

  "Shall we
go?" I ask, smiling as I push past the awkwardness of words unspoken.

  "Yes," he says, grabbing his own pack as we resume our hike.

  It isn't much longer before I can see the outlines of the oasis myself. I wish I had his sight but my eyes just aren't as keen. The dual red suns have dropped below the horizon. Shadows stretch long as the final beams of light drop away. The air cools, well cool for Tajss which is still several degrees higher than my body would tolerate without the effects of the epis. When the trees of the oasis are a couple hundred yards away Astarot stops. Crouching down, he motions that I should do the same.

  "The oasis is very dangerous," he says. "It is also a source of life. There is water, food, and shelter. There are also predators of many varieties. Some whom make their home there, some who pass through for the water. You should always be cautious in approaching an oasis. Do not walk in blindly."

  "Okay," I say, nodding my understanding.

  "Good," he smiles. "Let's find shelter for the night."

  Trees tower over us as we get closer, casting even longer shadows. The stars are shining, working with the moon to cast a silvery glow across the landscape and outline the trees giving them an eerie presence. I move closer to Astarot before I even realize I've done it.

  We stop just outside the line of the trees. The baoba trees have massive bulbous trunks that rise twenty to thirty feet before they branch out with wide leaves. Smooth bark covers the tree's base and a marvel to behold here on Tajss something that resembles grass grows around them. Well if grass was an intense yellow-ish color.

  Astarot approaches the tree, inspecting it. I stay to his left and a step behind, watching what he does but not understanding yet. I've learned enough to not speak. He'll explain when he's ready. He runs his hands up and down the tree as we move a circle around it, then he checks the next tree over the same way before nodding in satisfaction.

  "Majmum make their homes in the tree tops," he explains.

  "What is a majmun?" I ask.

  "Pack animals, primates," he explains. "Very dangerous, especially in a group which they almost always are."