He smiled and reached a hand up to draw her down to his side so that he did not have to look up into the suns.
“You’re up early,” he commented.
“I was up the moment you left.”
So much for a discreet withdrawal.
Aimee sat down on a boulder next to him and stared out at the vast copper ocean.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
He stared at her profile. A small nose, a rosy cheek, soft lips and a heart-shaped jaw hugged by the hair drawn behind her ear.
“It is,” he agreed.
Vibrant blue eyes converged on him. At least he was able to see them. The suns had not yet reached their apex. What he saw was a warm mixture of empathy, pain, and dare he hope, adoration.
“Are you okay?” Her voice was husky with concern.
Zak hooded his eyes again with his hand. His shield circled uselessly around his neck. He didn’t want to wear it. He wanted to see the world without the taint of the lens.
“Yes,” he nodded. “I just wish I could have had more time alone with you. I have waited a ren to see you and—”
“Zak—” Soft eyebrows knitted into a frown. “This is me you’re talking to. I know what a blow it was for you to find your father alive.” She hesitated and cocked her head. “Was it your father? Do you know it for sure?”
“One day, you’re going to grow up and live in a palace high in the mountains.”
“Will I be able to come down and see everyone, father, or do I have to live up there alone?”
“Yes, he is my father.” A huge fist had clenched around his heart last night as he spoke with Zon. In the light of day that grip eased. “But—”
“—but it’s been so long” She filled in, softly. “You were a young boy, Zak. You had so few years with him, and they were a lifetime ago.” She squeezed his fingers and dipped her head to capture his downcast gaze. “It is okay to not have the feelings you think you should.”
“Gayat,” his curse was subdued. “You claim your people have no powers, and yet you get into my mind sometimes.”
“Intuition.” Aimee sat back and smiled. “All women on my planet possess this power. We don’t always know how to channel it though.” She sobered. “What bothers you here?” She leaned forward and flattened her palm over his heart.
Zak held her hand tight to his chest when she would have withdrawn.
“You,” he stated.
She looked dismayed. “I hurt you there?”
“It is a good pain.” And it was. The best. But the fact that it was pain at all meant there was something missing. Dare he ask? Dare he ask her to spend the rest of her life with him?
No. Not until he knew she would be safe. Not until his mission here was complete and he could come to her as a whole man...well, mentally. His eyes were another story.
“Come with me.” He stood up, startling her.
With a quick tug, he hoisted her up, the impetus propelling her into his chest. Immediately, his hands wound around her back and his face dropped close to hers. Every muscle in his body grew taut in anticipation. She was so soft and so feminine. She was like hugging the wind. And just like the wind, he feared she would slip through his fingers.
As she looked into his eyes, her glance fell to his lips. Hah, the rugged Warrior. He could no more deny that temptation than he could deny breathing. He kissed her, and the wind became solid, something he could wrap his arms around and claim for his very own.
“Zak,” she whispered his name against his lips as he felt his stomach clench at the sound.
In the distance a loud screech pierced the morning air. Zak snapped his head up, wincing into the suns. Damn. Yes, he saw the blue sky if he squinted against the light...but he could see little else.
“What was that?” Aimee tensed.
Closing his eyes, he listened for the noise to repeat. It came quickly—a prolonged scream, similar to the discharge of a solar ray. But squint as he might, he could locate no Koron crafts in the sky.
“Look—” Aimee cried.
Gayat, he was looking! He saw diamonds.
“It’s the Warriors,” she shouted as the sound ricocheted off the mountain. She leaned forward to the point of imbalance and announced, “they’re—they’re leaving.”
Oh no. That was not good.
“How can you be sure?”
“Well, look—” She pointed and then turned his way. She was close enough that he could make out her confused glance. For a moment she stared hard at him and then the realization that he could not see dawned in her eyes. Curse that comprehension.
“I studied their planned flight route in order to avoid it,” she explained. “They were to come into the desert from the south and leave to the north to avoid the winds. When they first approached, the suns were sitting low on the horizon, so I take it that direction is south.” She pointed deep into the desert where the line between sand and sky blurred to obscurity. “And that,” her arm swung past the mountains, “must be north—and there they go—”
As he could not actually see the terra angels, he watched her eyes instead. He heard the crafts, though. It was a bad sign. It meant that they had exhausted their interval away from the Horus, and that the mighty ship was pulling out of range. They had very little time left to be able to reach it.
“Aimee, I need to show you something,” he said, rising to his feet.
Curious, she rose as well, dusting her hands over her rear to rid herself of the tiny pebbles. It was a motion that fascinated him.
“What?”
“Huh? Oh.” Zak cleared his throat. “I need your help.”
The fine lines around her mouth eased and she offered a smug smile. “What a refreshing change.”
He couldn’t help but to snort at that.
“Come on.” He offered his hand.
* * *
She was no fool.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that Zak was impaired.
In eyes that she knew every nuance of, she detected the brief spikes of pain, and noticed the pupils shrink to mere pinpoints in retaliation to the sun.
Aimee gripped his hand tighter.
He was leading the way, but his head was down, focusing on his feet.
Her heart clenched.
This was a man so tall and so strong, climbing rocks with his thighs bulging and the muscles in his back rippling. Yet she was certain he had not seen the Warrior’s terra angels fly by.
None of that mattered to her. Being with him and ensuring that they would always be together was what mattered.
“You’re breaking my hand, Zer-shay.”
Zer-shay. Zak had called her that once before. He said that it meant, pretty one.
Aimee slackened her grip.
“How is it that I am able to understand Zuttah and your fa—Zon? Do you think Raja tinkered with the translator in my shirt?”
“Probably,” Zak said.
“Good.” She smiled at his back. “Now I’ll know what you say when you curse.”
He tossed a grin over his shoulder and she thought he looked so damned hot at that moment.
“You’re going to have to let go of my hand for a minute so we can squeeze through this channel.”
Indeed. The tight fissure between the two granite walls not only called for single-file, but she had to inch sideways, her chest scraping against the abrasive rock face.
“How in God’s name does Zuttah fit through here?”
Zak chuckled. “He doesn’t. There is another entrance into this valley, but I prefer this shortcut. Besides, wait until you see the view on the other side.”
On cue he turned and strode shoulder-width through the mountain walls into a clearing. His broad back concealed her perspective, until he stepped aside.
“What do you think?” he asked.
To say her jaw dropped would be an understatement. She felt as if she had stepped onto the magical set of a Hollywood Oz-type fantasy. Snow-capped peaks flan
ked a lush clearing with rolling green knolls of grass that sparkled like Easter basket stuffing. Puffy white clouds tickled the mountain faces, playing a game of peek-a-boo with the austere barricade. A sapphire ribbon dissected the gentle slopes, its source a series of pools cascading in shelves down the face of the mountain. From that natural staircase, rainbows bloomed in an ethereal splash of color. More shelves lined the shorn gray face, but these overhangs were surrounded by caves, shadowed alcoves like an ancient Indian burial ground.
Children dressed in fur played “tag” on a terrace fifty-feet up the rock wall. A woman cooked over a fire in front of a cave, while another grotto revealed a trio of men engaged in conversation—and from the quiver of their shoulders, it appeared to be a funny one. A small group of children charged through the fine grass hand-in-hand. The one in the lead was singing, and the one in the rear, yelling.
“Zak,” she gaped. “Where are we?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “It looks like another world—I mean—in comparison to the desert.”
“This was once a crater from a meteor that struck the mountain. Over time, the melting snow from the mountain peaks poured into this basin, and the floor became fertile. I was not even aware this valley existed. The rebels discovered it as they fled to the only safety they could locate...the mountains. Not long after the initial Koron attack, when the rebels realized that the Korons would not venture up here, they started building dwellings and have lived in relative peace ever since.”
An unvoiced question clung to her lips. Noticing it, Zak added, “But this is not their home. Their home is down there.” He nodded to the crater wall.
Holding a hand over his eyes, he scanned the lush valley. “I wonder now if my father knew of this basin. If this is where the mythical king lives.”
Aimee’s throat tightened. “Now you can ask him,” she observed quietly.
Still pensive, Zak shook his head. “Come on, I need your help.”
Intrigued, she followed, wishing she could feel the green satin blades of the meadow against her bare skin. Brushing her hand through them, it was like combing silk spaghetti. Nearby, she heard water surge through the brook, its source a slim scar in the mountain wall—as if the mighty peak was crying.
Zak stepped up to the bank of the creek. Crystal clear water was dotted with occasional starbursts of light as the rapids collided against rock. Following along the stream’s edge, Aimee saw the velocity begin to dissipate as a stagnant pool formed beneath a patch of saplings with spiky blue needles.
“Here.” Zak pointed just beyond the forest.
Passing through the branches for a better view, she anticipated the sharp pricks of needles, but it was more like fur. It tickled her.
Once through the trees, she clapped her hands in delight. “Look, a bridge!”
As quaint as the idea was, she thought she could almost leap across the creek at its narrowest juncture.
“No.” Zak frowned. Stepping up alongside her, he added flatly, “It’s a dam.”
“Oh.”
Indeed, the haphazard structure impeded the natural current. That was the reason the small pool had formed beneath the trees. But, this contraption was only a slight deterrent. Water was the strongest force in the world...errr…universe. Unless you did something completely drastic, it was going to continue its flow. It was like the Terminator. It would never stop.
“What are you trying to do here, Zak? Is this creek not enough to supply the people living in these mountains?”
Aimee looked up at the dwellings clinging to the rock face—nature’s architecture.
How many rebels did it accommodate?
From Zak’s expression, she could tell he was dismayed by her reaction to the levee.
In lieu of answering, he offered, “Will you take a walk with me?”
Anywhere. Anytime. Forever.
“Sure.”
In no less than three strides, Zak claimed her hand. A warm jolt heightened that connection. She was not a little girl anymore, and yet he made her feel the same way she did the first time he touched her.
They were traveling through the meadow, approaching the far side of the crater. It was an intimidating wall of charred rock capped at the peak with a crooked crown of snow. Aimee’s focus, however, remained on the creek, which seemed to care less that there was a massive granite wall in front of it.
“Where is the water going?” she asked.
“Patience, Zer-shay.” Zak tugged her to a halt and into his embrace. “Always looking for answers.” Warm eyes smiled down at her. “You and JOH are very similar.”
It wasn’t something she would have ever considered, but now that Zak stated it, maybe she really was like JOH. Was her thirst for knowledge a turn-off? Did Zak want someone a little more vacuous?
Judging by the mouth that dipped down to caress hers, she guessed not. It was all she could do not to sigh at the sheer pleasure of being kissed by this man. It was as if no time had passed—as if they had not been apart for five years. Maybe he was brawnier. Maybe the arms around her back were like bands of steel now. Maybe the cheek rubbing against hers was a little stubblier—but this kiss was something that all the galaxies, and all the worlds could never alter. It aligned planets. This kiss was home.
Aware that she had been reduced to a bowl of melted ice cream in his arms, she tried to recover her posture, but Zak seemed reluctant to let her go.
“Aimee.” His forehead dipped down against hers, locking out the glare of the suns.
“Hmmm.”
“I—I have missed you so much.”
Was that really what he wanted to say? There was a delay. Did he want to say the words that were pumping through her veins?
She squeezed his shoulders and kissed lips that were dry, but soft. “I am here. And the only way to get rid of me is to literally pry me off of you.”
Zak reached for one of her fingers to peel it away from his shoulder. After consideration, he let her finger snap back into place, and grinned. “Not a chance.”
Enjoying another moment of indulgence, he reluctantly backed away. “Now,” his voice was husky, “Show me what you learned when you went back to Earth. Please tell me that they taught you how to build a proper dam.”
Not exactly.
“Maybe it is better if you explain what you’re trying to achieve, and we’ll work backwards from that.”
“Good idea.”
With his hand warm against her back, he urged her along the water’s edge as they drew nearer to the mountain wall. It was then that she noticed the hole.
There was a classmate at NC State who was from Norway. Wenche Gullorsen. Over coffee in the library, Wenche would tell her about life at home near Torget Island. That island had a mountain with a natural cavity carved straight through it. Norwegian legend stated that a troll was chasing a beautiful girl, and upon realizing that he couldn’t catch her he released an arrow, intending to kill her. The Troll King threw his hat in front of the path of the arrow and the hat struck the mountain and created a hole.
Not satisfied with the logistics of this tale, Aimee later did her research on Torget Island, and concluded that ice and water had most likely eroded the looser rocks, while the harder ones at the mountain top resisted the erosion.
Turning around to scope the area, she realized that the natural phenomenon that occurred on Torget Island was not necessarily exclusive to Earth. Here in this crater, the snow from the mountaintops melted. It channeled into the lowest groove of the craggy face. This steady stream of water created a nook in the land below—a nook that meandered through the meadows...looking...looking...for an outlet. It ran up against the crater wall on the far side, and through years and years of pummeling that rock, it eventually bludgeoned its way through to create a cave.
Aimee marched to the cave entrance. It had a low ceiling—maybe only four feet high. She crouched down and started inching her way under it.
“Aimee, dammit, be careful. Wait for me.”
&
nbsp; Zak’s hand encircled her arm, but he didn’t stop her. Together they crept beneath a pyramid of bedrock, listening to water cascade against the sheared walls, sounding like shattered icicles inside this tight pocket. As daylight stung her eyes, she caught a glimpse of the coral desert in the distance. It was an arid realm with a slim track running through it. A scar sustained by the very water that slipped off of this cliff into a cataract, a waterfall that could be heard pounding the mountain wall below.
“Cool,” she whispered.
Still hunched, she pivoted to face Zak and saw him wince in pain. He ducked his head and grabbed his eyes with his free hand.
“Zak,” she cried. “Hurry, let’s get back.”
There was no argument on his part. When they returned to the shadows of the crater wall, Zak leaned against a boulder with his hand over his brow.
“It’s a lot worse than you let on, isn’t it?” she whispered.
He would not look at her. Not even after she touched his arm to draw his attention.
“I don’t want pity.”
“Pity?” she snorted. “Do I look like a person who pities people?”
Zak glanced up. Gone was the military-styled man from the Horus. Perhaps that Zak had been a Warrior, but this Zak, with his tousled hair and leather pants, was rugged and sexy...even with his poor eyesight.
“No,” he chuckled. “You look like someone who is going to give me a zentram to rest and then you’re going to kick me into action.”
Aimee quirked an eyebrow.
Hefting off the boulder, Zak took a deep breath. “Okay, here is my idea.” He squinted against water’s glare.
“This might seem like a small creek, but it is fed continuously by the snows of the Zorgon peaks. It pours into a waterfall that runs down the foothills and out into the desert. It is a cycle that has evolved over thousands of rens. And from this cycle, the river Zargoll was created.”
“Erosion,” Aimee concurred. “Water flows through the land and erodes a path to form a channel...and eventually a river.”
“Right.” Zak crouched down at the stream’s edge, running his fingers through the current. “And the Zargoll was a magnificent river, but the Korons have spent years filling it in with rock and sand, effectively reducing it to less than half the length it once was.”
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