"It's instinct," he says, putting down a handful of tools before turning to gather more.
His tools and leathers are all over the place. Next to us, the steady ringing of Padraig's hammer pounds in time with the pain in my head. I can't tell if it's helping or making the pain worse. Padraig hasn't stopped working. I saw him look over when Astarot was beating on Arawn, I thought he might help, but he shrugged and resumed his work. Until Astarot had Arawn up against the wall, then he intervened.
"Instinct," I snort. "What does that mean? I've got instincts, I don't act on them all the time. I'm not an animal."
Arawn gives me a look I can't read. He smiles, shakes his head, then rises with a load of leathers and carries them to the table.
"Zmaj are different," he says. "Apparently."
"You think?" I ask, motioning between the two of us and laughing for the first time since this happened.
Arawn smiles. He has a nice smile, its bright, lighting up the space. I like Arawn, he's funny.
"Well, I mean more in a…" he shrugs and laughs. "I don't know human males. Are they not… protective? Do they not treasure their women?"
"No, not like Zmaj do, it's different."
"I see," he nods, thinking. "When a Zmaj mates, it's for life. She is his treasure, his everything. He will do anything for her. She becomes the center of his universe."
When he speaks his eyes take on a far away look, like he's looking into a distance much farther than the wall of the valley. There's a wistfulness to his voice and I know what that means.
"You've picked one," I observe.
"Hmm? Oh, no, ridiculous. A mating has to be mutual," he says, brushing aside my observation.
"Uh-huh," I let him off the hook, but I know.
It's obvious he's chosen one of the human women, I wonder which one?
"The bijass is a reversion to our most primal instincts," he continues, changing the subject back.
"Has it always been there?" I ask.
"No," he says. "Well, yes, but no. Before the Wars, it was different. I think parts of it were there but our entire society accommodated it, it was less somehow. There weren't the problems we saw afterwards. Something in the war, the loss, triggered us."
"That must have been terrible," I say.
He smiles, a sadness falling over his usually happy face. His mouth moves like he will speak but nothing comes out. He moves away gathering the last of the things scattered in Astarot's rampage.
"So your shoe idea, I think this new design will work," he says.
"I think so," I say, letting him change the subject, again.
"Your initial pattern is good. Using the hardened bivo leather and these reinforcing bones here, should let you move across the sand almost as good as a Zmaj."
"Great," I say.
Moving in beside him we set to work creating the first of my sand shoes. It's fun work, seeing my vision come to life and the time passes by quickly. The shadows are encroaching before I know it and my belly is growling. Being engrossed in the project I can push back how crappy I feel.
Kneeling, I fasten the shoes to my feet while Arawn watches, grinning. Leather strips serve as laces which I pull tight. When I stand I'm off-balance. Arawn reaches out, catches my arm and steadies me.
"Okay," I say, letting go of his arm.
"Ready to try these out?"
"Damn straight," I reply.
The floor of the valley is mostly stone and my feet are heavier with the new shoes. It makes moving different. My center of gravity isn't the same. It doesn't take me long to figure it out and I'm making my way out of the valley. Arawn walks along with me, close enough to help if I need it.
Once we're outside the valley, I stop and look out over the open desert. A hot breeze shifts the sands across the dunes. It looks like massive snakes crawling along sand. The setting suns cast an almost purple light across the red, whites, and golds of the planet surface giving everything a surreal feel.
Arawn and I grin at each other then I step onto the loose sand. I put my weight down slow, tentative, prepared to sink but hoping I won't. The shoe takes my weight, nothing cracks, so far so good. Shifting my full weight to my right foot, I bring my left forward and place it.
"They work!" I exclaim, jumping up and turning.
I land perfectly and don't sink.
"I see that!" Arawn agrees, laughing.
I take off running across the sand. Arawn paces along beside me. The shoes work just like I hoped they would. They're small enough to not inhibit my ability to move too much but big enough to distribute my weight and keep me on top of the sand.
I have to show Astarot!
As soon as I think of him my guts clench tight. I'm still mad about what he did. There's no excuse for his behavior but I miss him already. I want to share this moment with him, not with Arawn. Though I couldn't have done it without Arawn too. The joy is gone out of the moment so I stop running.
"We should head back," I say.
"Yeah, the suns are low, sismis will be out soon."
We walk back in silence until we're back inside the safety of the valley.
"Thanks for all your help," I say.
"It was fun," he says. "Nice breaks from my normal work."
We shake hands in the Zmaj way, clasping each other's arms at the elbow, then part ways. I stop and take the shoes off before heading to the room they've given us to use. My chest feels empty as I get closer. Will he be there? What do I say?
I've avoided thinking about this all day by focusing on work. Now that it's here, I want to run away. There's no excuse for the way he acted. This is why I can't commit to him. The jealousy of a Zmaj male. I wasn't doing anything, and he lost it. If I hadn't stopped him I think he might have killed Arawn.
"Lana," Olivia calls out.
I walk over to where the curvy red-head is working with the other women. "What's up?"
Her and several others are putting supplies into packs. It looks like they're preparing to travel.
"No clue," she says, wiping sweat from her brow. "One of the dragon-men showed us how to pack these bags with supplies. Made motions until we figured out what he wanted."
"Oh," I say, looking around for one of the Zmaj.
"We were all hoping you knew what's going on," she says.
One of the Zmaj hunters that brought us here is standing a ways off, doing something to his weapons so I walk over.
"Bashir," I say, approaching.
He looks over his shoulder at me then returns his attention to his spear. "Yes?"
"What's going on?"
"The Commander has decided," he says, as if that answers my question.
"Decided? Decided what?"
"We'll harvest epis, it's what you wanted isn't it?" he asks, his voice tight and angry.
"Yes, we need it," I answer, confused at his anger.
"Need it," he spits the words.
"Yes, don't you?"
"Epis is the old ways," he says, turning to face me. "We've been cleansed of it."
Taking a step back I try to meet his glare. Anger pulses from him like warmth from a fire.
"I don't understand," I say. "I thought everyone on Tajss needed epis."
"Only the weak," he says, shaking his head.
I don't understand what he's talking about. The epis changes you at a structural level, making you dependent on it. The Zmaj don't need it often, unlike humans, but they're adjusted to it through generations of exposure. They still need it though. All the Zmaj in Drakonov take it.
"Okay," I say, unwilling to experience more of his anger.
"It doesn't matter," he says. "We will do as the Commander orders. You need it, we'll get it for you."
"Thank you," I say hesitantly, trying to not provoke him further.
He nods then walks off, ending our conversation, so I go back over to Olivia. Several of the women have stopped their work and moved over to see what I have to say.
"They will get epis for us," I say.
"Epis? You mean the magic plant that makes this place bearable?" a woman named Penelope asks, a hint of laughter in her voice.
She's a pretty girl, extremely tall and thin to the point of being almost gaunt with short, blond hair and gorgeous emerald eyes that flash with sharp intelligence.
"Well it's not magical," I counter. I told them about epis when we all first met but I don't think they believed me. Epis is life on Tajss.
"I'll do anything if it helps with this heat!" Delilah says.
"It does," I say.
"Does it really? You look like shit," Penelope asks.
"I told you, once you take it, you have to take it regularly," I say, adjusting my hair and wiping sweat from my brow.
"Yeah, it's addictive, great," someone says, but I don't see who.
"Okay, well, I need to go," I say, adjusting the shoes on my back as I turn away.
"Lana," Penelope says.
"Yeah?" I ask, not looking back.
"Thank you," she says, then her hand is on my shoulder.
"For what?" I ask, confusion filling me as I turn.
"Helping," she says. "I know, we're not being nice. I'm sorry. I feel like shit, we all do. It's not making us the best people and you're only trying to help. If it wasn't for you we'd still be trying to figure out if the Zmaj were planning to eat us. So thank you."
Tears fill my eyes as my chest constricts. My throat is too tight for words so I nod, smiling. She pulls me into an embrace which I return, grateful. Breaking apart she pats me on the back and I turn and leave.
Facing Astarot seems easier now, though I'm still angry with him I understand. I think anyway. When I enter the room the Tribe gave us I expect to see him waiting for me but it's empty. My stomach drops. Where is he? The suns are setting and the valley of the Tribe isn't large, there aren't many places he could be.
I sit down on the furs that serve as our bed, pull out a piece of meat and lean my back against the wall to eat. The sun's final rays recede, being chased out the cave opening by shadows as night falls.
Alone, I wait until I nod off. A cold fear invades my restless sleep. What if something happened to him? Where is he?
21
Astarot
Stupid, I admonish myself again. Losing control like a child throwing a tantrum.
She is not mine. No matter we have mated, she isn't committed to me. I have of her only what she gives. I don't control her and if she chooses another, then that is my fate.
Crouching low, I run across the sands making my way by smell and instinct. It's not long before I hear the whisper of sismis wings on the air and I know I'm getting closer to my destination. If I'm to lead an expedition for epis, which I will with or without the Tribe, I need to first know where I'm going. Also, I need sismis claws to finish the salve I was teaching Lana to make. So, rather than face her, I'm hunting.
What would I say? Sorry doesn't make it right. I lost control to my bijass. I had no right to do that, to treat her that way, or to do that to Arawn. I'm better than that, not some animal running on instinct. The Tribe has their edicts; they live together without tearing each other apart. As their guest, and as a representative of what we've created for ourselves in Drakonov, I have disgraced myself.
Lana's face swims before my vision. I can't unsee the disappointment, hurt, and disbelief. I've failed her and I don't know how to fix it.
Shaking my head to clear it, I spot what I'm looking for in the distance. A blackness against the smooth sand of Tajss. Catching my breath there's a flutter of wings and then motion. A clutch of sismis fly out of the black spot taking to the air, screeching their hunting cry.
A cave, just what I wanted. I wait until the clutch has flown off in search of prey then make my way forward. I have to focus on the moment, pushing aside regret and other concerns. It's impossible to do. Lana is always in my thoughts. I get echoes of the sick feeling in my gut when she turned her back, refusing to even look at me.
Closing the distance to the cave, I swallow hard to push it down. Struggling with the nausea and the distractions I'm at the opening before I realize it. Deep breaths, center myself. I can win her back, I have to, life without her is no life at all.
Stopping by the entrance I listen. The soft, rustling sound of leather drifts out of the opening accented by faint whistles. There are more sismis there as I expected. A colony never hunts all at the same time. Some remain behind always to protect the young and guard their adopted home.
Sliding into the hole I lower myself down. The drop is just more than I can reach with my arms fully stretched out. Spreading my wings, I drift down and land in a three point crouch. I hold the position, making sure I didn't create a disturbance. Satisfied, I slide my lochaber off my back then scout out the ceiling. The sismis cling to it, chattering one to another. They nest deeper in the cavern, an old tunnel formed by the passage of a zemlja. Deep into it I see the telltale blue glow of epis. That will be for later, going that deep into the tunnel alone is foolish. I don't have a death wish.
The stronger sismis are deeper. I want one on the edge. Creeping forward until I'm right below one, I pause. No alarm is being raised so I grip my lochaber, spot my target over my head, then in a single swift motion rise and drive the point up and into the large sismis overhead.
It squeaks once then nothing. I drop, the sismis coming down with me attached to my lochaber. As quietly as I can I harvest its claws. The meat of a sismis is foul and useless. The only value of them for a hunter is their claws. Placing them in my pouch, I return to the opening. Leaping and using my wings I grab the edge of the cave then pull myself over the edge.
Lying on the warm sand I stare up at the swirling blackness overhead. The milky white streak of our galaxy is in full view tonight. Twinkling lights sparkle and I wonder if there is still other life out there. The Devastation didn't just affect Tajss; it destroyed this galaxy. The war for epis escalated until there was nothing but a handful of us left. I can only imagine the other planets fared no better or we would have seen them in the years since.
Lana came from beyond our galaxy. Somewhere far, far away. So far that generations of her kind lived and died on the ship while they traveled out in hopes of a new home. What must her home have been like that they would leave it for a home they would never see?
There is no time for considerations. Lana will have missed me by now, at least I hope. The bijass wants her to miss me. It wants to be right for what I did but that's not rational, so I push that feeling aside. Running across the desert on my own I make good time back to the valley. The guards let me pass with little hassle though it's obvious they're surprised I'm returning this far after sunset.
Slipping into our room, Lana is asleep on the mat. She didn't dress for bed or cover up. She must have fallen asleep waiting for me to come in. Running a hand over my face a heavy feeling falls over me. She's beautiful. Her face peaceful in sleep. Kneeling next to her I brush a hair out of her face. She stirs, her eyelids fluttering open.
"Astarot?" she asks sleepily.
"Yes, love," I say, letting the truth be in my words before I think about it.
She stirs, stretching, then sits up. She blinks several times looking at me then rage contorts her delicate features.
"You son of a bitch!" she yells. "How could you disappear like that? Do you know how worried I was? After what you did!"
Heat flushes my body. Shaking my head, I hold my hands up. "Lana," I start but then don't know what to say.
She sobs, tears streaming down her face, then drops back down scooting away until her back is against the wall. She pulls her legs up wrapping her arms around them.
"I thought you were gone," she says without looking up.
A sharp stab into my chest takes my breath. Her worry is palpable, I didn't think of that. Moving to a sitting position, I stare at the floor between us. There isn't a lot of space in our room, we're a few feet apart, but it feels like we're miles away from each other. It's my fault, I creat
ed this rift when I lost control.
"I'm sorry," I say, knowing it isn't enough.
She takes a deep, shaky breath before wiping the tears from her cheeks. When she looks up at me her eyes and cheeks are puffy, but she isn't crying any longer.
"Where were you?"
"I got sismis claws," I say, digging them out of my pouch and holding them out in my hand.
She stares at them in disbelief. "You went without me?"
Another stab into my hearts causes them to skip a beat. The pain in her voice is worse than her anger.
"I did it for you," I say, trying to make this right.
She shakes her head side to side. It's not enough, I know it's not.
"I wanted to learn," she says, staring at the yellow-ish claws in the palm of my hand.
"I'll teach you," I say. "If you'll have me."
She looks up from my palm, biting her lower lip. In a sudden burst of motion she flies across the space between us, her arms wrapping around my neck as she hits me in the chest.
"I thought I'd lost you," she sobs into my shoulder.
Wrapping my arms around her, holding her tight against me, nothing else matters. Everything pushes aside in her presence, her in my arms makes the world right. My cock stiffens, her closeness makes it jump in my pants. I'm happy to just hold her but she rises from my shoulder, smiling despite fresh tears on her face, then we're mating with our mouths.
Her lips on mine push my doubts further aside. The only thing I've feared in my life is losing her. She's brought me from resigned and ready to die alone to wanting to live. I want to live for her and because of her.
She grabs my hard cock through my pants and strokes. Her tongue drives into my mouth like an invading army. Groaning as she grips my dick, my eyes roll up into my head. Her soft breasts press into my chest causing an overwhelming amount of sensations.
Laying her down on the furs I work her pants until they give way and slide off of her beautiful legs. She smells sweet, delicate, I long to consume her. Fumbling the way through our clothing until at last my hard cock is at her opening.
Dragon's Hope (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 4) Page 14