She gave it a hint of life. Gave him a little more time.
He appreciated it, but still, an alien as his mate? “My mother will not be pleased.” She tended to be a strong proponent of pure bloodlines.
“Your mother will obey. As will you.”
Thyos struggled to agree. To hand over the fate of his future to a goddess who could be capricious. History clearly showed that sometimes her intervention led to sorrow—for the losers in the wars she started. The winners all adored her while the losers tried to regain her favor.
“Is there not someone else?”
“Enough arguing. You can keep wandering, looking uselessly on this world, or you can face the truth and the future.”
“Let’s say I believe you. How am I supposed to find my mate?” Far, far away sounded like the start to a fantasy story.
“The hand of fate will guide you.”
“It better guide me accurately. There are millions of planets and stars. Where would I even start my search?
“That’s just it. You don’t need to search. Part of the magic of the mating bond is the guarantee you’ll find her.” Karma beamed as if that were the best answer ever.
Not even close. He couldn’t help a sarcastic, “Will this magic also give me a ship and a reason to leave?” Because their hangar currently sat empty. Their few ships already out on missions.
“Have faith.”
In the blink of one eye and the next, the goddess was gone and Karymma swayed in place, a beatific smile on her face that turned to a sharp rebuke when he didn’t move fast enough for her liking.
“You heard our goddess. Go find your intended.”
“How about she finds me?” he grumbled as he headed back to his home, a village in the province of Qhryce.
As he trod the familiar path, he thought over what his goddess said. Could he truly find his mate and save not only his future but that of his tribe?
Hard to believe given, as he entered the village, he couldn’t help but notice the signs of even more abandonment. The longer he went without fulfilling his duties, the more his people absconded in the night. He couldn’t blame the couples who didn’t want to wait any longer to breed.
It shamed him that the once powerful tribe he’d inherited had weakened all because he failed. Failed to find his sykyrah.
And now Karma claimed his mate wasn’t even here. That he’d have to leave to find her. Hard to accomplish without a vessel.
“Thyos, about time you showed up.” Kryx, his friend and acting second-in-command, strode out of the door to Thyos’s ever-evolving habitat.
Thyos’s grandfather had begun the process, sculpting a patch of lahpee—a living rock that literally grew and could be coaxed into forms. It resulted in homes sculpted to their needs. By the truly adept, it became pieces of structural art. Currently the formation boasted three stories with sloped windows, sturdy balconies, and a fireplace that rose through the middle and heated the entire home.
He’d looked forward to adding another floor when he found his mate and expanded his family. Instead, this place would crumble into ruin when the bond died out with him.
He tried to not dwell on it. “What are you doing here? I thought you were on a scouting trip.” Anything to avoid a matchmaking mother, which used to be his mother’s enjoyment, too. Now she sighed loudly and often about how she’d never have any grandchildren to spoil.
She wasn’t subtle in her efforts.
“My trip got cut short. I was called back by the emperor.”
The emperor was the one being capable of ruling all the tribes. As emperors went, theirs tended to not get involved too often in clan affairs. Unless it would harm the planet as a whole.
“What did he want?”
“To assign me a new quest,” Kryx replied with nonchalance.
“Lucky,” Thyos muttered.
“I’m glad you said that.” Kryx beamed. “Because you’re coming with me.”
Immediately, Thyos’s expression brightened. “Are we going on a hunt?” He wouldn’t mind something to take the edge off his frustration.
“Of sorts.”
“Protection detail?” It wouldn’t be the first time the emperor assigned them a diplomatic task.
“There will be no fighting if all goes well. Which is a good thing given we’re going off planet.”
Away from Qhryce? He wouldn’t usually be bothered, but given the dire state of his tree, if he left, would he have anything left to come back to? “Exactly what does this mission entail?”
“We need to retrieve something.”
“Since when does trading require the emperor getting involved?” Not to mention, why drag him along? A leader’s place wasn’t as a bargaining merchant acquiring supplies but with his clan, keeping it safe.
“Because this is a very special item.” Kryx grinned widely, and it didn’t assuage Thyos’s concerns one bit.
“Why me? Why not Jyni or Lynna?”
“Because the emperor asked for you.”
His confusion coiled even tighter. “You know this isn’t a good time for me.”
“All the more reason we have to leave promptly. Karma stressed that point very strongly when she had her audience with the emperor.”
He blinked. “Karma spoke to Nyro?” He couldn’t help the suspicious note in the query.
“At length, or so I heard. I wasn’t privy to the details, only the result that you are to find your sykyrah and, according to our goddess, you have to leave Qhryce to do so.”
Thyos sent her up silent prayer—Nice meddling. She’d known he’d balk and find excuses to not leave, so she’d forced his hand.
“Did the goddess give you a coordinate?”
Kryx shook his head. “Not exactly. What I do have is a list of trading posts we’re supposed to visit.”
“Wander aimlessly in the hopes we accidentally find my mate?” He arched a brow. “Am I the only one that finds that a tad farfetched?”
Kryx’s grin turned lopsided as he shrugged. “Sounds crazy, I know, but it can’t hurt to try. We’ve tried everything else.”
A reminder that Kryx had crossed the planet with him in search of his sykyrah. He had to wonder if his friend had yet realized he’d run into the same problem of not finding his mate.
“It’s impossible.”
“Are you already admitting defeat?” Kryx taunted.
“Never.”
Which was how he ended up with his friend on a sleek cruiser flying from station to station, ignoring the harangues from his mother back home, all too aware of the ticking of time. Each destination they left without finding his mate only served to deepen his despair. It didn’t help that the last transmission from his mother had informed him that more of his people had fled. They’d lost faith in him.
If he didn’t do something, and soon, he’d have no clan to return to.
“Prepare for docking.”
The computerized announcement had him dressing and arming himself for excursion. Given the stations often held a deep chill, he chose a thick cloak, long and voluminous. It concealed his identity and many weapons. Only idiots went around unarmed.
The station, Lost Hope, was tethered to a moon, meaning it sprawled all over the place with transportation tubes connecting the various hubs. After sending over the correct number of credits—a large amount not worth the dirty locale—they were given a docking berth where they could disembark. As he travelled the interconnecting tubes, aimlessly for the most part, he took note of the many species roaming around. Mostly male with a few females either being tightly accompanied for safety or openly wielding more weapons than even he carried.