I drink some water and Amara does the same. This is much easier with my one dose of epis, but it’s still not a walk in the park. I know from experience, though—if I hadn’t taken the epis I’d be throwing up, or on the ground in a ball praying to die.
“We can go,” I say.
Ladon takes one step forward, then stops. He turns his head back towards us, his eyes narrowing.
“Down!” he hisses.
“Huh?” I ask, but then Khabri pulls me down to the ground.
He pushes until I’m flat on my belly next to him.
“Hide them,” Ladon whispers. “They’re too close.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about, but my heart races as adrenaline pours out.
“Please forgive me,” Khabri whispers, and I yelp in surprise as he rolls on top of me.
His weight pushes me down into the sand. Then he does some kind of shifting with his tail and wings, and it pushes us both deeper into the sand. Now my heart is pounding for a different reason.
I can’t open my mouth to scream, because if I do, sand will pour in. In moments I’m deep in a hole in the sand with him on top of me. Above, there is a small crack of red sky and light.
Then I hear them.
Guttural grunts and clicks that can only be Invaders. Sand drizzles in through the small crack as the sound of their boots draws closer.
How Ladon heard this patrol coming I’ll never know, but if he hadn’t, we’d be fighting for our lives.
I close my eyes to keep the bits of sand out of them. I strain my hearing to the sounds of them coming closer. I’m so tense I feel stiff as a board. My imagination is running wild with possibilities. Visions of the six of us fighting our way out of here mix with us being captured. None of the possibilities are good.
The sound of their boots recedes, and we wait. Time passes strangely when you’re buried beneath a large, well-muscled half-man, half-dragon. I don’t know how long we’ve been waiting, but it’s been a while.
And it’s about now I become acutely aware of my ass and deciding that Khabri really is happy to see me, at least based on what’s pressing hard against my butt.
It is big. It feels really big.
Now my imaginings are entirely different and, I’ll admit, a hell of a lot better than what they were. This is probably stupid, but acting on a whim, I wriggle. Not a lot! Just shifting for a better position, that’s all.
Khabri groans very softly in my ear.
It’s the hottest, sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced. His hot breath passing over my cheek, his chest rumbling as the sound slips out. His cock pressing harder between my butt cheeks. I want him.
My timing couldn’t be better, but the danger only makes it hotter. Makes me want him more. Lying here in this hole, shifting from thoughts of being captured and killed to having sex, the idea of having kids doesn’t seem so bad. It would be nice, good even. A future generation, something to fight for and to give my life meaning.
Of course I’ve gone insane. Chemicals in my brain making me think like this. That’s all it is. Chemical reaction, boy meets girl, body reacts. Biological clock or something.
Still… I can almost see a little girl in my mind’s eye. Tiny, translucent wings and nubby little horns poking through her hair. Tiny, perfect fingernails.
Khabri rises out of the sand, pulling me up with him, cutting short my fantasy. Which is fine, better even. Now is not the time for fantasy.
“We need to move,” Ladon says, softly. “They’re still around.”
No one needs to speak further. We resume the journey, and the suns are dropping low. Long shadows stretch across the sand like dark fingers stretching to capture us. As we make our way across the desert, the remnants of my fantasies dance at the edge of my thoughts, not quite going away.
What if?
15
Anna
I’ve never been to the Tribe’s caves before, but I’ve heard a lot about them. It’s been clear for a while that Ladon was leading us towards a large outcropping that rises out of the sand ahead, but as we get closer and I can see the details, it’s obvious this is a home.
The outcropping forms a C shape, curving out and around like a bay in a sea of desert. Closing in the bay thus formed is a curved wall. Or what remains of a wall. As soon as we see it Amara comes to a halt.
“Oh no,” Amara mutters.
“There may be survivors,” Shidan says. “We have to go and see.”
The wall isn’t a wall anymore. Jagged stones rising no more than a few feet are all that remain. Drosdan and Sarah lived here, and so many others. My stomach rebels, forcing bile up my throat, and I turn away.
“Are you okay?” Khabri asks.
“No,” I say, fighting my stomach’s intention of losing what little food it has.
I shake my head and sweat runs into my eyes. I’m light-headed, shaking, and my knees are weak. Khabri grips my shoulders. I shouldn’t encourage him. I don’t want to tease him, but right now, more than ever, I need someone to lean on.
I wrap my arms around him, and tears stream down my face. The images of what happened at the mining colony drift across my closed eyes. I squeeze him tighter. He wraps his arms around me. They’re big, strong, and stable.
“Ahem,” Amara clears her throat, jerking me out of my wallowing self-pity.
I rub my face with both hands before turning to face them. The three Zmaj with Amara stand silent, and even she has her eyes down.
“I’m sorry,” she says, “but we need to move.”
I nod my agreement. The lump in my throat blocks any words I could say. We resume walking, but no one is moving fast. I have chills like the light brushes of fingertips across my skin. It makes me shudder more than once.
My footsteps grow heavier, the closer we come. The destruction comes into focus, and then I can’t tear my eyes away. Shattered stones dot the landscape. Once these were carefully shaped stones must have formed the wall I’ve been told about. A safe haven for the Tribe.
Now it’s debris. Destroyed as if some god happened by and was displeased by their work. Smashing their wall with a giant fist.
Finally, I grow numb. Cool, cold, welcome numbness. My wished-for shield from the horror. As the shield falls into place, all this shock and distress becomes less impactful. As if it’s not happening to me.
We stop at massive pieces of metal that once were probably gates. The two thick pieces are twisted like corkscrews lying on the ground. I close my eyes and offer a prayer to the universe that we find survivors. Part of me wishes I believed. I can see how comforting it would be to believe in fate. I’d welcome a certainty of my own survival.
My emotional armor cracks when we’re inside the remnants of the wall. I was prepared for horrors, but that’s not what I see. There are no bodies. No people besides ourselves. Nothing so dramatic breaches my protective shielding.
This is a home. Or it was.
Inside this wall, there is a wide-open area. To my right is an open area of hard-packed sand that looks like a playing field. Ahead of me grows a vibrant garden. A garden!
I can imagine Sarah and others working this beautiful field of lush greens and yellows. Hints of orange and some reds lined out in neat rows. Tools lie dropped as if they were in the middle of working when they abandoned them.