The luck of it all seemed impossible. It only redoubled her conviction that all of this was bigger than her. It was fate. After all, all she had to do was get into a truck full of cargo, and it would deliver her to the man she needed more than anything.
The guys walked away, headed for the front cab. She struggled over to the big, covered cargo area and crawled up on to the edge. Losing sure footing on the ground made her woozy, and she hefted a leg into the back in hopes of steadying herself. At that exact moment, the truck reversed a little, hurling her into the tray.
She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking with the motion of the truck. She squeezed her eyes shut and kept up the phrase that was quickly becoming her only mantra.
“I’m coming, shaa kouvi,” she whispered. “I’m coming!”
Chapter Thirteen
The many voices of the Preor rumbled through the dining area like late thunder. Tyff was sitting at a long table at the top end near the kitchen. Vende and Choler sat nearby, and they were looking at him expectantly.
Every Preor in the room knew Tyff was going to address the group. He had decided to do it informally at dinner rather than call an official meeting. As much as Tyff liked tradition and routine, he wanted this to be more of a discussion than a ceremony.
Over the last week he had spent every last waking moment at a vital task. He was constantly working with Vende, Choler, Triem and Amryn keeping all the positions on the ship well-manned, and everything was running beautifully. Even Penelope was pleased. Only the position of war master needed to be reassigned.
Tyff knew they were going to vote for him, every last one of them. His heritage balked at this. As far as he was concerned, he hadn’t done enough to be worthy of the position. He also knew that to keep the ship running smoothly, he had to give the lesser ranks a chance to decide for themselves who they wanted to be in charge—even if it was him.
Tyff wished he could put his full attention on the meeting. Every day the low buzz of distraction in his mind got slightly worse. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. He saw Yazen every other day, and even though he recorded many pictures of Tyff’s brain, he couldn’t find any damage. Tyff was wondering if he should reject the role of war master on medical grounds.
He looked around, seeing a few soldiers watching him expectantly. He had never dreamed he would take a position of such importance so soon, and now that it was looming over him, he was more than a little unsure.
Vende smiled and stood up, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. It was almost startling how quickly the room settled down and turned their attention to the main table. Tyff felt a moment of vertigo and hoped he could get through this meeting without showing too much weakness. That would be no way to inspire confidence.
Yazen can’t find anything wrong with me, he reassured himself. Maybe it is just stress after all.
“As you all know, the chain of command has shifted recently. Under the care of Radoo, a lot of you became submasters, creating a new class of rank so that if the job is unmanned for any reason, qualified individuals will always be ready to step in.”
This was met by cheers as the Preor responded to Vende’s words. All the Preor left on the ship had stayed there because they were trying to get away from the radical changes mated life brought and back to their comfortable routines. All of them still desired to be mated, no doubt about that. They just weren’t ready to give up their current peace for it. And they damn sure weren’t ready to be surrounded by cooing couples and babies!
Jarek sure isn’t. Or Taulan. Or Vende. All of them have had their worlds turned completely upside down, and everyone in the room knows it. As much as these guys want love, they are afraid to lose the life they’ve always known.
Tyff was getting another one of his headaches. There had to be a way around this, a way the Preor could find their mate and yet not lose themselves.
The women have all lost themselves, too. Does building a new life always mean surrendering the old one?
“In a few days, a formal meeting will be held,” Vende went on. “Invitations have already gone out to those on the surface. On this day we will name the new masters and create a subgroup of new rank. These will be the caretakers of the position should the master himself be unavailable. This will ensure the smooth running of the ship at all times.”
“Here, here,” Penelope called out, amongst the calls of approval from the Preor.
“What we would like to put to you now is an informal vote.” Vende grinned as Preor started banging their tables and calling out, “Tyff!” in unison. The air rustled with thousands of colorful wings as the Preor got carried away in excitement.
“Who would you choose to be your new war master,” Vende roared. Almost as one the Preor charged to their feet, chanting.
“Tyff! Tyff! Tyff!”
The room rang with their cries. At first, Tyff could barely move. He still felt unworthy. He knew, though, that he had called this meeting so everyone could have their say, and he couldn’t ignore their wishes.
“Okay.” He stood up shyly. He waved his hands, and the others began to quiet down, most taking their seats again.
“I thank you, my brothers,” he called out. “Your honor humbles me. I will gladly lead you if that is what you desire. I don’t have the leadership experience in combat, nor do I understand the other masters’ positions, but I will lead you with all the courage in my heart.”
“Bullocks,” someone yelled. Everyone looked, and Vulian spoke with casual familiarity. “You know every job on this ship. Over the last few weeks, you’ve stepped into every role. No one is better for this than you, War Master Tyff!”
Tyff was so moved that he actually felt as if his heart grew in his chest. He was almost overwhelmed by it and had to grip the table to hold himself up as one of his moments of vertigo attacked him.
“I will lead you with all the strength and power of my dragon soul,” he said, making sure his voice carried. “I will take the oath if you will it, my brothers.”
They cheered again, the room ringing with their yells. Tyff sat down and shook his head slightly, pressing a finger to his temple.
“Are you well?” Choler leaned over, whispering.
“I fear not,” Tyff admitted. “Since that last battle with the resistance, I’ve been a bit off. I’ve seen Yazen, and nothing is wrong with me.”
“Hmm.” Choler frowned at the floor. “Maybe get some more sleep. You don’t want to be falling asleep at the big event!”
“No.” Tyff grinned. “We wouldn’t want that at all.”
Tyff listened as the conversation around the room moved to preparations for the big day. All of the Preor were accepting their new routines as well as helping to set up for the human staff that would be integrating over the next few weeks. Like Tyff, all of them expressed the desire for mates without losing their current lives.
Quite a few Preor had opted to go down to Earth and work in the tower or in major cities. No one held it against them—even if abandoning their heritage had never been part of the original deal. All the remaining Preor were worried about was preserving their history and carrying it forth into a new future.
Anxiety clutched at Tyff’s guts as he thought about the event coming up in just a few days. Potential security issues were everywhere, so he and Penelope were ceaselessly going through the data.