The tale of the gunslinger was unknown. If Maggie ever knew the man who had apparently tried to retrieve her, there was no record of it. Frustratingly, records about Maggie herself were sparse and not written from her perspective.
Sarah had already begun journaling her own thoughts and experiences in the hopes that any future humans who came to this world would be able to make use of any knowledge she passed down to make this place feel more like a home. Perhaps even the yan-kanat would someday read her words and learn that humans were not heartless monsters devoid of feeling and emotion, but were actual people, capable of feeling love, and rejection, and grief, and hope—just like their yan-kanat neighbors.
She missed Jotahan as the sandfalls passed, wishing she could discuss these things with him. He had showed great interest and curiosity about Maggie’s story too. He had also been forced to admit that he was happy Sarah was working at the temple now. He was grateful that she was sharing her knowledge in the hopes of increasing understanding for the yan-kanat when it came to humanity. She believed that their two species could someday find a way to live in harmony, if only both sides could acknowledge that the other side was not that different from their own.
They could even interbreed, and that alone should be enough to convince people that they were not incompatible. It was a pity that humans and yan-kanat did share one particular trait, and that was the fear of those who were different.
After several sandfalls passed and the evening grew into full night, Sarah gave up on her studies and set aside the pile of papers and the bottle of ink and quill. She rose to her feet, stretched, then made her way to the small shrine. After lighting some incense, she knelt on the pillow in front of the statue, studying the sinuous lines of the beautifully carved stone. The yan-kanat artisans truly understood how to bring life and motion to their static carvings. Draku Rin seemed to move in front of her as the smoke from the incense coiled between her and the shrine.
“What do you think, Wise One? Can humans and yan-kanat ever make peace? Or will people like me always end up being strangers in a strange land? An oddity to gawk at.”
Despite the illusion of movement, she didn’t expect an answer, but she still felt oddly disappointed that she didn’t get one. By now, most humans had accepted the silence of their gods. She still couldn’t understand how anyone could have faith in a being that remained silent while so many human atrocities were committed the world over, causing endless pain and suffering for their believers. It was little wonder many humans had made it their mission to kill their gods with logic and reason.
Yet there was something within the human soul that needed that spirituality, and that something had Sarah hoping against hope that the mysterious dragon god, Draku Rin, would actually speak to her in some profound and undeniable way.
But Jotahan had already told her that the Ajda had to leave Theia to appease the angry titans after Bal Goro slayed their sister. Where the Ajda had gone after they shed their mighty forms, even the yan-kanat priests didn’t know, though they naturally hoped the Ajda would return one day.
The sound of the door flap pulling open interrupted her contemplation. Sarah leapt to her feet, turning to greet Jotahan. Her joy and anticipation turned to confusion as she saw the male standing in the doorway, towering as much as Jotahan did, but it mostly definitely wasn’t her mate.
She recognized Kevos. It was difficult not to know the person who despised you the most. The male wore a tunic that was covered in blood and his eyes were dilated and wild, his lips peeled back in a snarl.
“You will come with me now,” he said, striding towards her.
Sarah screamed, backing away until she bumped into the statue.
“Silence, nixir! Your scream will bring others.”
He grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the shrine. Her hand flailed behind her, reaching, searching. Her other hand fisted, and in her struggle, she punched Kevos in the side.
He grunted in obvious pain, his grip on her arm weakening as he buckled.
She jerked her arm free, her other hand closing around the dart that was concealed among the incense sticks. Jotahan understood her need to have that little bit of protection close at hand, even though he didn’t believe she could ever be in physical danger in the skilev.
She had known better, recognizing the rising darkness as public opinion of her soured, fueled by baseless rumors and accusations. The yan-kanat didn’t even need social media to spread their poison and demonize someone. Of course, neither did humans. It was just more efficient to use the internet to destroy people. Why commit murder when someone could be tormented enough online to kill themselves?
Kevos growled, gripping his side as he grabbed for her again. She wasted no time in stabbing his hand with the poisoned tip of the dart. Jotahan had coated the tip with enough poison to drop a fully grown male yan-kanat, but she feared the coating would take time to rehydrate in Kevos’ blood stream.
He didn’t immediately go down, but he seemed to recognize the dart. Realization widened his eyes as he looked from it to her.
“You fool! They will kill you for certain now. There’s no escape.”
Since he still seemed to be weakened by pain and surprise that she’d stuck him with the dart, Sarah picked up the heavy statue of Draku Rin and swung it at his head.
He turned just in time for the stone to strike his shoulder, but the impact still sent him staggering backwards, his steps unsteady.
Sarah took that opening, casting the statue aside as she raced past him and out the door.
“Come back here, nixir!” he said in a harsh cry as she exited the housing pod.
Sarah kept running, her feet carrying her rapidly down the walkway. To her frustration, no one seemed to be around to help her. Then again, she wasn’t certain how many of the yan-kanat would stop Kevos from killing her.
She feared that the blood that had covered his tunic had come from Jotahan. Why else would Kevos be willing to risk attacking her, if he hadn’t already put Jotahan out of commission?
She couldn’t allow herself to believe Jotahan was dead. She couldn’t bear the thought, so she kept running, torn between the urge to scream for help and the fear that it would only make her situation worse.
A growing sound reached her ears that she’d never heard in this skilev before. The sound of an angry mob, crying out for blood. Nixir blood.
She ducked into an alcove between two housing clusters, shocked by what the mob was saying as it drew closer to where she was, no doubt heading for her pod.
“Kill the murderer. Kill the nixir!”
She hadn’t killed Kevos with that dart. She was sure of that. Besides, she had only struck him in self-defense, and that had been only minutes earlier. There was no way someone could have discovered him and then formed an angry mob that quickly.
She didn’t know what to do now. Breathing deeply and focusing on calming herself allowed her to quell the glowing of the chanu zayul that showed through her skin, but she still wondered if she could remain hidden in the alcove from people who could track her by her scent, or if she should make a break for it and try to get to the temple to beg her few friends among the elders to provide sanctuary to her.
Then she saw a familiar slender form walk hurriedly past the alcove, heading towards her pod.
“Farona!” Sarah hissed, trying to keep her voice low enough not to alert anyone else in the vicinity of her position.