by Celia Kyle
“Don’t bother, Choler,” Penelope drawled. “It’s a match made in hell for all of us.”
Choler smiled and reached toward Dawn, careful not to touch her. “Would you like me to take you back to your mate? Or somewhere else?”
“No, I’m just touring the ship. I’ll head to the garden soon.”
“I shouldn’t leave you to wander alone.” Choler looked up and down the hall. “You should be escorted.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Not exactly, but—”
“So, what’s the problem?”
Choler drew a hand over his face, exasperation showing at the edges of his expression. Penelope swooped in for the rescue.
“The kitchen and rec rooms are just ahead, Dawn,” Penelope informed her. “Are you planning to stop there for a little while?”
“Yes, I think I will.” Dawn jerked her head in brisk nod.
“Okay. I’ve got her for now, Choler.”
“Do what you have to if you need to keep her safe,” Choler spoke to the ship as he headed down the hall. Dawn kept skipping along, still oblivious to the fact it was a military vessel, not a playground.
She passed a large training area where Preor exercised in their human shapes. She peered through the doorway, having enough instinct to know she wouldn’t be welcome in the room. Even though their moves fascinated her, she found all the fighting a bit scary and kept pushing on until she discovered the dining hall. She was ready to make a cup of tea when she heard screaming nearby.
She dropped everything, including the cup. Tea splattered across the floor, but Dawn didn’t notice as she fled the room. She followed the sound down just a few doors and burst into the room.
In the very center of a very large, mostly bare room, a woman was on fire. No, her clothes were on fire and she was standing calmly, tapping one foot, and making aggressive gestures with one finger.
Dawn watched in disbelief as the woman addressed the ceiling.
“Lorrasyh!” she screamed. Dawn stepped back a little, starting to feel a bit afraid and a whole lot weirded out.
Then a flying baby—a flying baby!—came swooping from the ceiling and landed on the woman, slamming into her chest. They fell together, rolling on the floor and laughing. Dawn heard a sharp snort and saw a burst of flame near the roof and noticed another child perched on a metal frame bolted to the ceiling.
“Oh, hi,” the woman on the floor breathed. “Welcome to the fireproof room! I’m Lana. Won’t you come in?”
“Is it safe?”
“Relatively.” Lana rose, holding the purplish looking child against her body. When she got close, Lana held out a hand. Dawn shook it warily.
“I’m Dawn.” She looked around to make sure there were no more flying babies.
“Nice to meet you. I apologize for the state of the room. And me.” Lana crossed the room and went to a cupboard at the far wall, pulling out a robe and wrapping it about herself.
“I tell you, if pushing children out your wazoo doesn’t kill your modesty for good, try having a child who thinks it’s hilarious to leave you running naked through the halls!”
Dawn took a few steps inside and watched the baby on the perch. He gave her a careful examination, craning his head to see her better.
“Don’t mind Shanas. He’s a little shy and he’s trying to stay away from his sister.”
Dawn crept a bit further into the room, watching Lana prepare bottles on the counter. The children looked somewhere between two and three, but Dawn knew they weren’t human.
“These are Preor babies?” she asked incredulously.
Lana grinned. “They sure are. The very first! Could I ask you to hold her for a sec? I just want to grab that bottle over there.”
“Sure!” Dawn stepped forward, arms out. She took the child eagerly, fitting her arms around her and holding Lorrasyh close to her body. Dawn had always loved children but believed she couldn’t have any.
“So, what are you up here for?” Lana smiled as she headed back to Dawn. “I have no idea what’s going on in this ship anymore—No! Lorra!”
Lana’s scream was too late. With the half-evil, half-angelic grin all toddlers wear when they are conducting mischief, Lorra opened her mouth and engulfed Dawn in flame.
Chapter Sixteen
Vende dreamt of flying over a stormy sea. The clouds had pushed him low, right against the deadly waves. Above him, lightning and thunder heralded even heavier rain, and the swells reached up to grab him from below.
He didn’t know how he had gotten here, caught between a storm and the sea. It was death for a dragon and his time was running out. He had been flying too long and even his great endurance was failing him.
Ahead, he saw a golden glow. As he got closer, he knew it was Dawn, clothed in golden light. His heavy wings meant nothing to him now. He could fly forever if he knew it was into her arms.
He glided into the light, feeling her presence engulf him. He was so entranced by his dream that his arms moved as he reached for her, waking him up from deep slumber. For a few seconds he floundered on the floor, slapping the carpet uselessly.
Then he realized she was not there.
He rolled to his feet and bolted through his rooms, checking everywhere for her. Yet, she was completely gone, as if she had never been in his space.
“Penelope, locate Dawn!” he snapped.
“Hey there, Vende. It’s not like you to nap in the middle of the day.”
“No, no jokes now. Where is my mate?”
“Everywhere, Vende. Fucking everywhere,” the ship grumbled.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means she’s more hardheaded than you are.”
“I doubt my mate has a hard head!” he yelled furiously. “Mine is hard by purpose—the head butt is an essential fighting move. Dawn is not designed for battle.”
“Vende, I’m gonna cry and I don’t have tear ducts.”
“Penelope,” he growled in warning. He would figure out how to reprogram the ship if it did not listen to his demands. He swore it!
“Just take the main hall. She didn’t get far.”
Vende gave up arguing with the machine and fled down the hall. He glanced into rooms as he raced past, growing more frantic by the second. Dawn had to be okay. Penelope wouldn’t play with something that serious. Though, knowing that truth didn’t help him calm down.
Finally, as he approached the new playroom for the twins, he heard Dawn cry out. He put on more speed, almost falling as he slid through the doorway. He looked up, a snarl on his lips. His mate had been screaming in fear and he would destroy anything that touched her.
Dawn held little Lorra in her hands at the full length of her arms. Her face was screwed up and there was soot and ash all over her face. The light dress she had been wearing was in tattered shreds, hanging off her in ragged pieces.
“Oh, thank Syh,” Lana breathed, holding her chest. “You’re a human-Preor mate.”
“Um. What just happened?” Dawn cried, still holding little Lorra gingerly. Vende crossed the room in three strides and put his arms around his mate. Her nakedness distracted him far too much, but he had to touch her. He had to reassure himself, and his dragon, that all was well.
“I’ll take this,” Lana said, heaving Lorra out of Dawn’s arms. Shanas took off from his perch, circled the room and landed by his mother, ready for his bottle.
Vende turned Dawn around in his arms, looking into her face. He touched her cheek gently. “Are you well?”
“I think so. I’m not sure.” She patted herself all over, at first only checking for injuries and then blushing red as she realized she was near naked.
“Here you go.” Lana tossed a blue robe to Dawn as she sat down with the children. Dawn shrugged into it gratefully, holding Vende’s hand tightly.
“What happened!” Dawn cried, her voice reaching a keen edge.
“Preor mates are immune to their flame.” Lana settled her daugh
ter in a sitting position and handed her a bottle. “Thank God that’s what you are. We really have to be more careful.”
Dawn shook her head and moved to sit on the backless couch. She wrapped her arms around herself and Vende sat down to draw her into a hug.
“This place is weird,” she whispered against Vende’s chest.
“I suppose I would find your home just the same.”
“Yeah. I guess.” She peered up at Vende. “So… If we have babies, will they be like this?”
Vende could see hope in her eyes but also doubt. Even though he desperately wanted to make a family with her, he couldn’t shade the truth.
“They might be,” he said gently.
Lana fussed with her son a little, ignoring the dragon looks from her daughter.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Lana grinned. “I suppose, like any baby, there are trials, but looking into their eyes just makes it all bearable.”
Lorra fired a bolt of flame at her mother’s head. Lana sighed and shot her daughter a look.
Little Lorra sat up and wiggled off the seat. She toddled across the floor with her arms out to Dawn. Her little purple wings flapped, and her eyes shone. Dawn didn’t hesitate before reaching down and grabbing the little girl.
Vende felt something inside him twist as he watched Dawn cradle the child. It was like getting badly injured in a fight. His insides felt cold and tight while fire ran over his skin like something had irreversibly changed.
Then, she looked up and smiled. Vende heard his dragon roaring in his blood, and this time it was not frustration or rage.
This time, it was joy.
Even though she wandered away without telling him and put herself in potential danger, he found he could not be angry. Seeing her with the dragonlets affected him deeply. Everything he had always believed beyond his grasp was now within reach.
He put his arms around Dawn and hugged her gently. Lorra frowned at him so he pulled back, bestowing a smile on the baby as he did.
Lana held Shanas, looking at Vende with a knowing smile. “Looks like you got the bug, Vende.”
“Bug?” he asked, baffled. “An Earth insect? On my ship? What are you talking about?”
Lana rolled her eyes. “I forget, sometimes, just how difficult you are.”
“He is not difficult!” Dawn protested. “Just speak plainly and there is no need for anyone to be confused.”
“I don’t suppose I should ask if you’ve gone clucky, then?”
“Cluck..Ee?” Dawn echoed.
“Jesus wept,” Lana almost moaned.
“I have heard of this Jesus.” Vende frowned. “He seems to do a lot of weeping.”
Lana laughed so hard she couldn’t stop. She leaned back into the couch, cuddling Shanas. He giggled in his mother’s embrace, joining in on her laughter.
“I don’t know what’s so funny, Vende,” Dawn said defensively. “Jesus does cry all the time.”
“Where could I meet this human? I want to ask him why he’s crying.”
“Oh, you can’t meet him, Vende. He’s like a legend or something. He’s dead now.” Lana’s laughter continued to grow even as she tried to muffle it by burying her head in Shanas’ chest.
“Dead?” Vende asked incredulously. “How do you even know he’s crying if he’s dead?”
“You’ll have to ask a priest!” Lana barely stopped laughing to deliver the line, her breathless giggles enchanting her son, who kept touching her face.
“I don’t think Jesus has to be involved at all.” Dawn jiggled Lorra on her lap, enjoying the baby girl’s giggles. “My family isn’t religious, and I don’t think the Preor worry about baptism.”
“Bat’s Tisim?” Vende asked, eyes wide.
“Baptism,” Dawn corrected. “You know, the priest touches them with holy water, and they rest in God’s embrace.”
“I have heard of this ‘God’ many times.” Vende roared furiously. “No one can tell me who he is or where to find him, but I swear to the Syh if he touches my child, I’ll tear him limb from limb!”
Lana was crying and holding her stomach. She shook her head helplessly. “God doesn’t have limbs.”
Vende frowned even fiercer at the female. “Whatever appendages he has. Wings? Tentacles?”
Lana laughed even harder. She started waving her hands at them both. “Please stop, please! I literally cannot draw a breath!”
“I don’t see how some god coming to steal my child is funny,” Vende muttered.
“He doesn’t steal children!” Dawn snapped. “He’s good. Or something. No. Well, I don’t know. But I do know he can’t steal our baby.”
Vende put an arm around Dawn and pulled her and little Lorra close. The Knowing continued to saturate his mind. He was beginning to understand more of the references the humans made, but he still didn’t see this as funny.
“He better not try,” Vende growled. “I don’t care what this God is. I will destroy him!”
Chapter Seventeen
“As much as I hate to break up a party,” Penelope cut in, “I think you’re needed in the garden.”
Dawn sat up eagerly, suddenly remembering what she had set out to do. “Are they waiting for me?”
“The others don’t expect you there today, Dawn,” Penelope answered her. “They know you’ve had a big day and they wanted to leave you alone with Vende. They are having trouble over there, though, and it’s what you came to do. You’re the only one who can help them.”
“Then I’d better go.” Dawn put Lorra down and stroked the girl’s purple hair. Lorra smiled at her and puffed flame at her face.
“Lorrasyh,” Lana warned. The little girl stuck her tongue out at her mother and ran to the back of the room, gurgling in joy.
“That’s my cue.” Lana smiled as she rose and ran after her daughter. “Thanks for stopping in, Dawn. I hope I’ll see you again soon!”
“I would love to come and visit again.” Dawn smiled. “It was a lot to take in at first, but I’d love to learn more about looking after dragonlets!”
“You will.” Lana flashed a knowing smile. Dawn waved and walked toward the door with Vende by her side. She ran her fingers down his arm, loosely grasping his hand.
“Where to?” she asked as they stepped into the hall.
“I’ll teleport you.” Penelope didn’t give directions. “They need you now, Dawn.”
“Okay.” She couldn’t help but be wary. Her first teleport had not been comfortable.
“Don’t worry, honey. This one won’t be as rocky,” Penelope promised. “But I’d prefer it if you let go of each other’s hands. There we go. I’m good, guys, but we shouldn’t take unnecessary risks. Ready? Go.”
Light surrounded Dawn in flickering points and she only felt dizzy for a second or two when the floor became solid under her feet once more. She looked around, and for the first few moments all she could do was stare.
The room was a few acres wide, at least. It was almost the size of her family’s greenhouse, but far taller. The roof extended up so high she couldn’t see the ceiling. They could grow anything in the garden, even very tall trees.
The walls were a dark, dull grey and plants climbed them with ferns and vines spilling along every crack. Not far off, Dawn could hear water flowing and knew a waterfall and pool were not far off.
She started taking slow steps into the room, feeling the long rows of shelves crowding in on her. All the nearby stacks held rows upon rows of pots. She peered in as she went past, sticking a finger into the soil occasionally. She shook her head, muttering.
“Seedlings, by the door! The atmospheric pressure must change every time someone comes in. Poor things.” She reached out and grazed a leaf with her fingertips. The little plant seemed to reach for her.
“Don’t worry, babies. I’m here to help you,” she whispered. “Vende!” she snapped. He had been following behind, watching her, and now he hurried to catch up.
“These seedlings can’t be near
the door.” She flashed him a frown. “They need stable conditions. I daresay, you could use a separate greenhouse in here to protect them. The room is too big to create a stable environment for such small shoots.”
“Ah…” Vende coughed a little, looking completely lost.
“Now.” Dawn advanced toward a set of tables that had ailing plants all over them. She took a quick glance at them and her face tightened.
“This is barbaric!” she nearly screamed. Vende hurried to her side once more, touching her shoulder. Dawn knew she was working herself into a state and that Vende was worried, but she was getting upset now and couldn’t hold it in.
“These saplings have been spliced while they were unwell!” Her voice took on a high note of distress. “They never got the chance to be healthy at all before they were cut into!”
“We had no choice.” Grace’s voice was soft as she came out of the massive forest at the back of the room. “We couldn’t get them any healthier, and we had to do something.”
“Did you really think splicing a dying plant would yield a hybrid?” Dawn snarled. She had been experiencing extremes of emotion for most of her life, but for the first time it was coming out with the calculated thinking she had been born with.
“What should we do here, Dawn? Tell me, please.” Grace looked so apologetic.
Dawn’s good heart softened. “Put these into compost, now,” Dawn said firmly. “Put them out of their misery. Their use of the resources is not necessary, and it is affecting the whole room.”
“Compost?” Grace asked, worry painting her face. Dawn stared at her, feeling impatient and anxious. The unhealthy plants were upsetting her, and she couldn’t believe humans could be this inept at looking after them.
“Please, tell me you have compost.” Dawn rubbed her forehead.
Grace shook her head and Dawn let out a rattling sigh worthy of a horse before striding through the garden. The front section held dozens of shelves with tiny pots stacked close together and the long tables nearby were clearly part of the lab. Dawn crossed the main floor into the forest beyond.
The uncomfortable sense she’d had since she walked into the room increased tenfold. She put her hands to her ears and stumbled as she tried to venture farther into the forest.