Dragon's Kiss (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 5)

by Miranda Martin

  Nothing will stop me or stand in my way.

  Hands grab my shoulders.

  Jerking free I whirl, a new threat.

  Bashir. His hands are raised, open, his tail low.

  "Ragnar," he says.

  "NO!" I scream.

  "Together we are stronger," he says.

  "She is mine," I hiss. "Mine!"

  "Yes," Bashir says as Melchior approaches from my other side.

  I move back, keeping them both in sight. They will not keep me from her.

  "Edicts," Melchior says. "Ragnar, control yourself.

  Their words cut through the red rage, finding me in the maelstrom of emotion. I watch as my body turns and I pound on the barrier again.

  "OLIVIA!" I scream, but I'm a passenger to my anger, the bijass is in control.

  "Edicts are edicts," Bashir says.

  They keep their distance, talking, and their words penetrate the storm that roars around me. I am more than this.

  I am myself.

  "Edicts," Melchior repeats.

  Turning to face them, the urge to make them submit rises.

  No one can stand against me. No one will keep Olivia from me.

  "Edicts," Bashir says. "Together we are stronger."

  Spreading my wings I throw my arms wide and scream my frustration at the stars above. Rage, anger, hurt, and loss pour out of me in one long display of emotion.

  I let it all go until I am myself again. I am in control.

  The rage fades, leaving an empty aching in my gut. "I must get to her."

  "Of course," Bashir says.

  "We'll help," Melchior adds.

  The bond between us gives me strength. I draw on it, needing it.

  "The Council will meet with Lana to discuss the events," Bashir says.

  "Then let's invite ourselves," I say.

  Bashir leads the way among the tents. The Tribe set them up in a circular pattern, the center of which is clear for gathering. Kalessin and Falkosh, the two Elders, and Visidion, the Commander, stand together. Visidion leans on his staff, staring at the ground. Drosdan stands to one side with his massive arms crossed over his chest. Lana, Astarot, and Ladon stand together.

  My attention goes to Ladon first. He considers it his city, being locked out of it can't be sitting well with him.

  The rest of the Tribe watches in a loose circle, keeping their distance. Normally the Council would meet in their cave if we were still in the valley and the Tribe could not listen. It's obvious they all want to know what is happening but are holding back from inserting themselves in the debate.

  I have no such qualms. My female is on the wrong side of that dome. I will have answers.

  Melchior and Bashir flank me as I cut through the crowd. I lead us to a stop, standing to one side of the Council and Lana and Astarot so we can see both groups.

  "There is no doubt in my mind that Gershom put one of his followers up to this," Lana says.

  "Who is this Gershom?" Falkosh, the Tribe Elder, asks.

  "He's an asshole," Lana snaps.

  The elders exchange a look at her brash, fast answer. Lana's sharp and doesn't miss it.

  "Let me elaborate," she says, holding her hands up. "There are some of the humans who spout anti-Zmaj bullshit. They don't think we should work together. Especially if it means Zmaj men with Human women."

  She looks at Astarot for affirmation who frowns and nods.

  "Why is this a problem for them?" Visidion asks.

  "Fear," Astarot interjects before Lana can speak. "They're scared, facing the doom of their race and have not had time to come to terms with it as we have. They fear that their females falling for our males will mean their end."

  "That's entirely too nice a way to say it," Lana says, jumping back in. "That may be true for a lot of the followers but their leader, Gershom, really is an asshole. He doesn't buy the crap he spouts. He knows we need the Zmaj. Gershom is smart, don't underestimate his cunning. He wants power, and this is a way for him to get it."

  "He puts his own gain and power above that of his people?" Visidion asks.

  "He does," Lana says, without hesitation.

  The Council Members look at each other but I watch Lana. Does she understand what she is doing?

  "This Gershom, he manipulates the others of his tribe for power?" Visidion asks.

  "That's exactly what he's doing," Lana says, crossing her arms over her chest.

  A soft murmur passes around the circle.

  "We believe that is what he is doing," Astarot says, softening her statement. "It is not something we can prove."

  "How much proof do we need that the guy's a dickhole?" Lana snaps, throwing her arms up in the air. "He's been pulling shit since we landed here. Anything he can do to steal power from Rosalind."

  "Rosalind is the leader of the humans?" Visidion asks.

  "Yes," Lana says.

  Anger pulses in my veins. If this Gershom is responsible for taking Olivia from me, he needs to learn the error of his ways.

  "There is much to discuss," Visidion says.

  "There is nothing to discuss," I interject.

  Everyone turns to look at me.

  "Hunter, you speak out of turn," the Commander says.

  Stepping forward, I make a slashing motion with my hand through the air. "This Gershom has made his position clear," I say. "And he has cut me off from my treasure, the female that is mine."

  I claim Olivia out loud for the first time.

  "I hear your claim but-" Visidion starts to speak but is cut off as Kalessin steps forward to stand in the center.

  "DANGER!" the Elder seer says, his voice roaring out with a power that drives deep in my bones.

  All eyes go to him. Kalessin foresaw the devastation. His vision founded the Tribe, brought us together. He gave us the Edicts. No one dares interrupt him.

  Astarot pulls Lana backwards, moving himself in front of her while looking around for any threat.

  "Gershom will be the downfall of the Tribe," Kalessin says, his voice softer but somehow more sinister.

  He shakes, shudders, then stands still.

  No one dares a breath, waiting.

  Kalessin straightens, then his form goes back to its normal stoop, and he slowly walks back to his position next to Falkosh.

  Visidion steps forward two steps then taps his staff on the ground three times.

  "That decides it. They must give us Gershom for trial and justice," he says.

  "None of this gets us into the City," I say, stepping forward, the bijass pulsing through my veins.

  I hold it at bay, reciting the Edicts in my head.

  "I'm sure they're working on fixing the door," Lana says.

  "Is there no other entrance?" I ask.

  "The power grid isn't working well, or wasn't when we left. None of the other doors are powered."

  "Can we dig under it?" I ask.

  Lana looks at Astarot. He shrugs.

  "I don't know," he says, looking at me.

  "Then we will try," I say.

  "That settles it," Visidion says. "Ragnar will be in charge of the digging. We will retrieve the females who wish to remain with us. The Tribe will not join the City until Gershom has seen justice."

  Lana grins from ear to ear as if pleased with herself.

  I don't think she understands what she has created. Gershom violates the Edicts if all she said is true. The Tribe will not tolerate it, we can't. The Edicts are our strength. Anyone who undermines them…

  Shaking my head, I push the concern away. I have a dig to organize.

  I'm coming Olivia.

  21

  Olivia

  "What about this?" I ask, pointing to a board deep inside one machine that Delilah and I are taking apart.

  "Close, but no," she says, after inspecting it. "It doesn't have the same capacitor over here."

  She moves her finger around one edge of the board.

  "Oh, yeah, I see that," I agree.

  Focusin
g on what's next keeps me going. Every time I stop, my thoughts turn to Ragnar. Is he okay? I know he's worrying and probably angry that he can't reach me. I'm worried about him too.

  I can't believe that jerk did this. What did he hope to gain?

  "You know what's dumb about this?" Delilah asks.

  "Huh?"

  "They need to get out of the dome too," she says. "I overheard some of the girls before. They go out to hunt and gather that plant, the epis."

  "Oh," I say, digging into yet another machine hoping it will have the part we need. I realize I've only been half paying attention to her. If I don't keep myself focused completely on the task, I can't do it because all I can think of is Ragnar.

  Delilah stares at me with an arched eye before we dig back into our work.

  "Here!" Delilah exclaims, holding a board up.

  "Is that it?"

  "I think so," she says, waving it around and grinning.

  We get lost walking back to the gate but a friendly group points us in the right direction and it doesn't take long before we're back at the airlock.

  There's two groups waiting when we arrive. On one side is Rosalind, Calista and two other women I don't know. Standing across from them is a group of five, three men, a woman, and Gershom himself. Neither group speaks as we walk up but both look at us. Nervous butterflies dance in my stomach. It feels like we're crossing an invisible barrier.

  Delilah and I exchange furtive glances. Part of me wants to scream for them to quit looking at me or wave my arms wildly in the air or something. Anything to break the tension.

  Something moves beyond the dome and I look out there for the first time. A group of five Zmaj walks towards the door, Ragnar among them. Drosdan stands out on size alone. Ladon is with them, too and the two other hunters.

  They come to a stop a few feet away from the other side of the door. All five of the Zmaj cross their arms over their chests and stand staring, waiting.

  "That looks ominous," Delilah mutters.

  "Yeah," I agree. "Let's get this done."

  We set to work. It takes time but Delilah knows her stuff. I contribute by holding wires but the first time she hooks it up it doesn't work. Something feels off. I take my time staring at it until the outpoint in the pattern stands out.

  "Of course!" Delilah exclaims, when I point it out to her.

  She adjusts the wires to fix the pattern. A soft whir comes from the panel then it lights up, ready for use.

  "Yes!" I exclaim.

  Delilah puts the broken panel back in place but we don't have any way to fasten it. She fiddles with it for a few minutes before giving up and letting them hang.

  "Is it working?" Rosalind asks.

  "Yeah," Delilah says.

  Rosalind punches in a code and the inside door cycles open then shut. The rush of air fills the airlock then the far side opens. Anticipation makes me dance from foot to foot as I wait for Ragnar to walk into the airlock. I want his arms around me, his lips on mine, and I don't care who sees us.

  As the air fills the chamber dividing inside the dome from outside, Ladon steps forward to stand in front of it. The other Zmaj, including Ragnar, continue to stand back. Swallowing hard, I try to stare my questions into Ragnar.

  Why aren't you coming in? What is going on?

  A tiny niggle of doubt forms in the back of my mind, worming its way through.

  Doesn't he want me?

  No, that can't be it.

  But... I'm not as pretty, not as fit.

  All the old doubts are there, waiting outside my walls of certainty I'd built with him. Ready to take me back into the mire.

  The outside door closes and Ladon touches the panel inside the airlock, opening the inside door.

  "This looks bad," Delilah whispers.

  "Yeah."

  Swallowing hard, I tear my eyes from Ragnar, doing my best to not cry. I don't know what's happening but it can't be as bad as the doubts in my head are making it. It can't be.

  Ladon steps out then walks over to Rosalind.

  "Ladon," Rosalind says, speaking Zmaj.

  "Rosalind."

  "Have you worked out your differences with the Tribe?" she asks.

  "They have a demand," Ladon says.

  "And what say you to their demand?" Rosalind asks, her eyes narrowing.

  Something is so far off it's not even funny.

  "The Tribe has a set of rules they call the Edicts. They will not take up residence with any who are unwilling to follow their Edicts," Ladon says.

  "And what are these Edicts?" Rosalind asks.

  "One, I am myself. Two, together we are stronger. Three, survival of the group matters."

  "Fine," Rosalind says, then shakes her head. "What does this have to do with us?"

  "Lana has made it clear to them that there are those in the City who do not accept the Zmaj. This is clear by the actions of the one who broke the door."

  "Common, can we get a translation Rosalind?" Gershom interjects.

  "Wait," she barks. "What is it they want?" she asks Ladon.

  "They want Gershom," he says.

  "Or?" Rosalind asks.

  "Or what?" Ladon responds.

  "Right. Or what?" she asks again.

  "If we do not give them Gershom, for trial and justice, they will not move into the City."

  "I see," Rosalind says.

  That's why the others are staying outside. Looking over my shoulder, Ragnar is waiting there, refusing to come in. Proud, strong, and loyal.

  "Rosalind, this is ridiculous. I demand to know what is being said," Gershom says, the small group with him muttering their support.

  "We should discuss this in private," Rosalind says to Ladon. "The Council will meet," she says in Common, "in thirty minutes. I'll relay the message then."

  "I wonder what that's all about," Delilah says.

  "The Tribe wants Gershom," I whisper.

  "You're kidding, wait, how do you know?"

  "I can speak Zmaj now."

  "No shit?" she exclaims.

  "Yeah, no shit," I say, worry making my stomach a tight knot.

  "Are you coming?" Calista asks.

  "Huh?" I ask, jumping as she speaks.

  "You coming?" she repeats. "You should both attend the Council meeting."

  "Us? We're not part of this," I answer.

  "Sure you are," Calista says. "You've got as much stake in this as anyone. Your man is on the outside, your voice matters too."

  Locking eyes with Delilah we both nod to Calista.

  "Okay, where do we go?"

  Rosalind sits at the head of a large table. Delilah and I sit on the right, which appears to be the side of those that don't dig Gershom. Gershom and his supporters sit opposite.

  "So that is what they want," Rosalind says, having just relayed the Tribe's demands.

  "Ridiculous," Gershom says. "I had nothing to do with this."

  "The situation is clear," Rosalind says, speaking in both Common and Zmaj to make sure everyone understands. "They want what they demand."

  "Why would we give them anything? They need us, we don't need them!" Gershom says.

  "Don't we?" Rosalind asks, after translating his words for the Zmaj.

  "They have hunters, our food supplies are dangerously low. They have craftsmen. We don't know how many of the survivors from the other part of the ship might stay with them too," Rosalind observes.

  What do I do? I have to wonder myself. Staying in the city would be nice but could I do it without Ragnar? Will I have a choice?

  "Bah, let them," Gershom says. "If we give in to their demands now what does that say about us? I thought Ladon claimed this city is his and no other's. Is he going to let these other Zmaj tell him what to do?"

  Rosalind looks to Ladon and translates.

  "If they are right, they are right," Ladon says. "But in this case, we have no way to prove that Gershom did anything. If they asked for the perpetrator, that I could live with. Giving them Gershom I ca
nnot do. Not without proof he ordered this."

  Rosalind stares, her frown growing deeper. "I wish you were wrong," she says in Zmaj. "If I hand Gershom over, half the City would riot. He has too many supporters and if we can't present clear cut evidence to them, we'd be in trouble."

  "Let's not forget about translating!" Gershom interjects, his voice loud and annoying.

  Rosalind closes her eyes and her lips move slightly like she's counting to herself before she turns to face Gershom.

  "Ladon says we can't hand you over without proof," Rosalind says.

  "Well, that's a surprising level of sensibility," Gershom says. "Thank you."

  "Sverre, what do you think?" Rosalind asks the other Zmaj.

  "I have Jolie and our baby to think of," Sverre says. "While I think the City would be better off without Gershom in the long run, I can't risk the trouble it would bring to have him handed over without obvious cause."

  "Olivia?" Rosalind asks, singling me out.

  My eyes go wide and my throat dries up when she calls on me. Shaking my head and looking around, I don't know how to respond.

  "Yes?" I ask, swallowing hard and trying to force moisture back into my mouth.

  "What is your opinion? How much trouble will this cause between us and the Tribe?"

  My mind is racing. I don't know how to answer. "I don't know," I say as honestly as I can.

  "And those of you that traveled here with them, what will you do?" Rosalind asks.

  Ragnar isn't going to come in without the Tribe and I'm not going to stay without him. Glancing over my shoulder at Delilah, she squeezes my hand under the table and nods.

  "We will go with the Tribe if they don't come in the City," I answer at last.

  "Damn," Rosalind says.

  "Bah, we don't need them," Gershom says. "We're getting along fine now."

  "Don't we?" Rosalind asks, her eyes narrowing. "They have an engineer, a real one. And a doctor, a human doctor. You don't think that might be useful?"

  Gershom opens his mouth then snaps it shut.

  "Ladon, what will they do when we say no?" Rosalind asks.

  Ladon purses his lips, his hand resting on the table flexing open and closed. "I'm not sure," he says. "They can't get into the city, so we're safe there, but I don't think they would resort to violence anyway."