Mutual Trust

by Lea Linnett

  Marek stared at her, his eyes wide. “She left with a levekk. What if she chose my people over her own?”

  “I don’t think she did. She escaped. If a levekk went with her, then I can only guess that they chose each other,” she said. She held Marek’s gaze, her heart racing. “Like I choose you.”

  “Bree…” His voice was hoarse with emotion, his eyes soft and dark, and Bree melted into him when he pulled her close. She threw her arms around his neck, squeezing the broad column hard enough to hurt, but Marek returned the embrace just as fiercely, his lips tucked against her neck. “You say these things so easily.”

  “Because they are easy,” she insisted. She pulled away reluctantly, hovering close. “You don’t have to live your life how Urek wants. You can choose a different life—you already have chosen one. That’s why you’re coming with us, no matter what Noe says.”

  They stared at each other, their lips inches apart, but then Noe tutted behind them.

  Marek’s grip on her loosened, his expression fractured by sadness. “We will see,” he said quietly.

  Even though they rode on the railcar, it seemed to take hours to make it through the mine. Or maybe Bree was just impatient. As beautiful as the glittering walls and ceiling were, that didn’t stop the air from being wet and muggy, or the darkness from closing in like a storm cloud from both ends of the tunnel as they raced along.

  Eventually, the path narrowed, and she gripped Marek’s arm. After the cavernous tunnels, it felt positively claustrophobic.

  But then the first shades of daylight appeared at the end of the tunnel, and Bree’s mood picked up.

  “We’re close,” Marek said. Noe shifted in her seat a couple rows back.

  The light strengthened, sparking off the metal-covered walls and lighting up Bree’s spirits along with it. Then, they turned the final corner, and Bree’s eyes stung.

  The mine shaft was a glittering tower of black metal surrounded by platforms. Despite how deep beneath the surface they must have been, light bounced down from high above, bathing the structure in an angelic hue and lighting up the room around it as effectively as a bonfire. She stood up in her seat as they juddered to a stop and stared up at it, awestruck.

  Marek’s palm found the small of her back. “This is beautiful,” he whispered, and she laughed.

  “After hours trapped in the dark? Yeah, it is.” But when she turned to him, her smile stuttered. He was staring at her, and the realization sent butterflies soaring through her stomach. He had been more of a suggestion than a person for some of their trip, especially those long stretches where the lights had malfunctioned and cast the world in darkness, but now the sunlight from up above made his scales shift like molten gold.

  For the first time since being captured, she saw the levekk as she’d seen them as a child on the ridge, cradled in her mother’s arms. Despite their strange society, despite their cruelty, they were captivating, and Marek was all the more so because of his differences from them.

  “Come. We must continue,” he murmured, helping her down to the ground.

  They climbed up to the first platform when they reached the tower’s base, and then Marek disappeared into a small building set into its side. Bree followed cautiously, Noe close on her heels, waiting to be assaulted by guards.

  None appeared. It almost seemed abandoned, and Bree realized that the entire mine had been strangely empty as they passed through.

  She followed Marek inside and found him searching the walls. “Where is everyone?” she asked.

  “In another section of the mine,” he replied. “Despite all the sub-species you have seen, this mine is only a small operation. Urek’s superiors cannot afford to run all parts of the mine at once, so we rotate. Lately, we have been working in the deep tunnels to the south.”

  Bree frowned. “Why build it, if you don’t intend to use it all?”

  “I think they had larger plans for this mine, once. But they have sent more and more workers back to New Chicago over the past few years.”

  “Oh.”

  She did a circuit of the room, inspecting the strange consoles and equipment, but paused when she heard an odd scuffling outside.

  “Noe? Was that you?”

  Noe poked her head out of an adjacent room, frowning. “Was what me?”

  “I heard something,” Bree said. She approached the outer door. “Something moved, I think.”

  “Probably a rat. We are in a giant hole.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  She was interrupted by the hiss of a compartment opening up behind her, and she turned to find Marek pulling out three familiar-looking lengths of fabric. “We will wear these,” he said.

  Noe scoffed. “No thanks. I’m not walking into the Barracks wearing that weird, alien crap,” she said, crossing her arms testily.

  Bree shrugged and pulled on the heatsuit Marek offered her. “Suit yourself.”

  The strange noise slipped from her mind, replaced by a buzzing excitement as they climbed up onto the platform and Marek fiddled with the controls. The open sky was so close, and yet still so far away, but soon she would be up there again. Free.

  She lost her balance when the platform jolted, Marek’s strong arm snaking around her waist to steady her. And it stayed there, even with Noe watching, as they slowly ascended. They must have been deeper than she’d thought, because the ascent still took minutes, the earth passing by on either side of them at a crawl.

  The sky darkened as they rose, and when they neared the surface, she realized why. Dark storm clouds were rolling in, blocking out the sun, and Bree was suddenly glad that she’d worn the heatsuit.

  The world went from brown to white as they passed over the lip of the earth, rising up to the apex of the tower where the platform rumbled to a halt. Snow whipped around them, beating Bree’s cheeks, and beside her, Noe gripped the railing. She looked queasy.

  “Don’t you spend most of your day on the walls of the Barracks?” Bree teased.

  Noe glared at her. “Not usually after riding on alien vehicles all day. Fuck, this is high.”

  Bree laughed, crossing to the northern side and squinting through the trees. One of her people’s watchtowers would be nestled in the forest there. She wondered if it was occupied.

  “Your people watch us?” Marek asked, approaching from behind.

  “Maybe. I can’t tell.” She blew out a breath. “It’s still a day’s journey to the Barracks. We could probably push through the storm, but…”

  “Maybe if you have a death wish,” Noe said, looking up at the sky. “I don’t really relish the idea of being buried under two feet of snow halfway there.”

  “Then let us rest,” said Marek. “None of us have slept.”

  Bree nodded, swallowing nervously. “All right, then. We’ll head for the watchtower.”

  They picked their way down from the platform and across a narrow, metal bridge that Marek pushed out to meet the lip of the hole. She held her breath as they crossed it, but it barely even trembled. It had to be strong enough to hold a solayan, she remembered faintly, but the knowledge did little to calm her nerves.

  Her worry only worsened as they hurried across the wide clearing and broke into the darker treeline. Once there, she led the way through the undergrowth towards the watchtower as confidently as Marek had navigated the tunnels, but inside, she was balancing on the knife’s edge of panic.

  Who would be waiting for them in the watchtower? Torrin? One of the other watchers? Would they balk at the sight of an alien at her back, or welcome him? She desperately wanted to believe that Noe was wrong about her people—that they had the ability to sympathize with his plight—but she hadn’t thought her belief would be tested so soon.

  “Where is this resting place?” Marek asked curiously, and Bree gulped.

  “Look up.”

  His rough brow rose as the watchtower materialized above them, its wooden construction only just becoming distinct from the tree trunks as they neared it
. “It is well hidden,” he said. “I would not have known it was here had I not asked.”

  “That’s the idea,” Noe said snidely.

  Bree strode toward the hidden ladder, feigning confidence. Whoever was up there would have seen them approaching, but no one was coming out. She saw no glint of an arrowhead either, so she grabbed the rope ladder, steeling her nerves.

  She poked her head up through the floor and looked around. The main room was sparsely furnished, but still cozy, a little bigger than her room in the alien mine. To the left was a shallow fireplace and the wide window through which the guard would watch the mine shaft, although now its wooden shutters were closed. Towards the back was a curtained passageway that led to the sleeping room, where she knew two pallets would be situated across from each other for weary watchers to rest on. All of the watchtowers were built the same, all of them fitted with the same supplies.

  And this one was empty, she noted with equal parts relief and surprise. It was strange—usually, they exchanged shifts in such a way that there was always someone here, but it was possible that Luis had ordered everyone back because of the storms.

  She hauled herself up to allow the others inside and crossed to the fireplace. As Marek looked around the room with interest and Noe complained about the cold, she took up two of the logs left to dry by the mantle and placed them beside the small, blue-violet firestone that sat in the center of the hearth. The stone immediately caught when she struck it with the nearby flint, fanning orange, before subsiding to a gentle, blue glow, which clung closely to the stone like a rippling second skin.

  “So,” she said, turning around. “How do you like your first taste of humanity?”

  Her face fell. Marek was watching the fireplace, his jaw slack, eyes wide, and his body rigid.

  At his silence, Noe paused by the window and asked, “What? You’ve never seen fire before?”

  But the levekk didn’t reply, and as he stared at the fire, his alien eyes glowed brighter than Bree had ever seen them, reflecting the blue-violet light.

  She frowned, her stomach twisting into a sharp knot. “Marek? What’s wrong?”

  25

  Marek raced toward the fireplace, inspecting the strange reaction closely. This wasn’t normal fire. It was blue for a start, sometimes flashing a bright violet, and it adhered to the lump of rock with a precision that was uncanny, as if it were being sucked inward by the stone. Beside it, the logs smoked gently, glowing with an orange light. There was barely a flame to be seen, but the room already felt warmer, the blue light painting the walls.

  It was impossible.

  But the lump of rock in the fireplace also looked impossibly familiar.

  “Where did you find this?” he asked faintly.

  Bree raised an eyebrow. “Probably just laying on the ground. It’s a firestone,” she explained. “I told you about them. They started showing up around the same time as the mine was built. Then, we discovered that they drive the sehela away, so we started keeping them here in the watchtowers and carrying small ones with us to ward them off.”

  Marek’s lips parted, his mind processing. “The talismans…”

  “Yeah. I had one with me when I fell into the mine, but I guess Urek has it now.” She nodded at the glowing fire. “They also make a good heat source. They can burn low like this for almost forever, and the flame doesn’t jump around like woodfire can.”

  “Why do you think we’re so comfortable having an open flame halfway up a tree?” Noe piped up, pulling off her wet boots and placing them by the fire.

  “Right.” Bree’s smile faded again as she turned back to him. “What’s wrong, Marek?”

  “I did not realize… I thought your story of the stones was just a story, but this…” He shook his head. “This is something else.”

  Noe scoffed. “It’s just a bit of rock—”

  “This is mesilisi,” he corrected her. “A material so rare that I could secure only small amounts for study, even though it was my job to study it. And now, you burn it.”

  “It doesn’t hurt it,” Bree insisted. “This stone has been burned every day for years and hasn’t gotten any smaller or less effective. Trust me.”

  Marek shook his head, unable to believe what was plain before his eyes. He had studied mesilisi for the Guides on CL-6 for years before his mother died. It had been luck that got him the position, since his seshaan happened to have been given the project. But even then, he had seen only small shards of the material, collected from planets across the Constellation.

  And yet, sitting before him was a sample larger than any he had ever seen.

  That was not possible.

  “Marek,” Bree murmured, stepping closer to him. “It’s just a rock.”

  “It’s my life’s work.”

  She looked down apologetically. “Come on, eat something.”

  Marek could barely take his eyes off the mesilisi while she coaxed him from his heatsuit. They left the suits by the door and went through the pack Silas had given them, finding more of the tasteless nutrient cakes, but when Bree rummaged further, she paused, her eyes widening.

  “My bow…” she whispered, pulling two lengths of levekk metal and its matching arrows from the bottom of the pack. Marek’s chest swelled with affection. It was the bow he had given her, and she had called it hers.

  “Silas must have taken it from my office.”

  Bree pursed her lips together, clearly holding back a wave of emotion as she met his eye. She said nothing as they ate, but she did tuck herself against his side, her fingertips gently brushing the smooth metal of the bow in her lap.

  It felt right, having her sit close like this while they did something as trivial as eating. Even though Noe watched them with a scrutinizing expression, the warmth of Bree’s body and the gentle undulation of her breaths calmed him. So much of their time together had been soured by Urek or Peris or the knowledge that they would soon both return to their cramped living quarters. For once, they were free to do as they pleased, and Marek reveled in it.

  But eventually, he had to shift, his wounded shoulder making him wince, and Bree’s head shot up. “Are you all right?”

  “I am fine.”

  “No, your wound,” she insisted, getting to her feet and rummaging through a chest in the corner. “God, how the hell did I forget about that? We need to treat it.”

  He started to argue, but Bree was already kneeling before him again, spreading a pile of herbs on the floorboards. “Come on,” she said. “Take off the suit so I can get to it.”

  Marek faltered, his gaze skittering to Noe and back. It should not have pained him to show his skin, and yet, ever since Bree had asked to undress him in his office—had asked for his cock like it was the most natural thing in the world—the thin bodysuit had begun to seem like the last frontier between him and an act that he couldn’t take back. She wanted him in a way that few others ever had, and that frightened Marek to his core.

  Even more terrifying, however, was the thought that seeing him might change her desire. His clawless hands and mangled skull were bad enough. Could she still want him after seeing the muddle of human and levekk features that made up his whole? Would she be revolted by the different textures of his skin?

  Bree’s eyes widened as the strained silence stretched, and she shared a look with the other human.

  To Marek’s shock, it was Noe who spoke up. “Go patch him up and rest,” she said to Bree. “One of us should stay up on watch anyway, just in case anyone followed us.”

  A cautious smile broke out on Bree’s face. “Thanks, Noe.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Marek got to his feet, reluctantly following Bree through the passageway to the small bedroom, where two pallets lay opposite each other, each blocked by another woven curtain. His heart beat faster as she sat him down on a pallet, but Bree only smiled encouragingly, laying out her supplies between them. “This must look pretty different to your medicine,” she said quietly.


  He watched as she picked up the herbs she’d brought with her and placed them in a small, stone bowl, crushing them into a simple paste. Blue light from the mesilisi filtered through the curtains, making the paste look even more dark and mysterious than it already was. “It is,” he replied. “I have never seen a celifaan mashing herbs.”

  “Celifaan?”

  “A healer.”

  “Ah. I’m not a healer. I only know enough to get by out in the wilderness. My half-sister, Rowan, she’s the healer,” Bree said, a small smile crossing her features. “She’s apprenticed and everything.”

  “She must be intelligent. Medicine is not a simple field.”

  The smile turned proud. “She is. I don’t tell her that often enough, but she is.”

  Marek’s chest warmed, and he found himself relaxing a little, his worries sinking to the back of his mind like a memory.

  But then Bree worried at her lip, eyeing his wound. “Can you take it off? I can’t treat you through your suit,” she joked, evidently sensing his hesitance. When he still didn’t move, she placed a hand on his arm, stroking gently. “Please?”

  His mouth dry, Marek pulled down the catch on his suit just far enough to expose his shoulder, and Bree smiled gratefully. She didn’t say anything else as she inspected the wound, gathering some of the paste on her finger and slathering it on.

  “This cleans the wound?” Marek asked.

  “Yeah.” Bree grinned. “Or, it will if I made it right.”

  A chuckle rippled through him, and when Bree placed her other hand on the muscle of his shoulder to steady him, the warmth of her palm made his scales tingle. His world narrowed down to Bree’s quick fingers and sparkling eyes, and after a while, he almost felt… content.

  “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve felt safe,” Bree whispered as she placed the stone bowl on the floor and reached for a strip of soft leather she’d procured.

  Marek reached up, cradling her chin. “You will never feel unsafe again. I will not allow it.”

  “See? Sappy,” she said.

  “It is your fault. I have been a distinguished scientist and a mud-covered laborer, but never sappy.” He caressed her face, unable to keep his hands off her. “If you do not like it, I can return to the fire.”