Page 129

The Shaman is dead, but so is my city. The one thing I had hoped to reclaim has been taken. Without it, what remains of me? And what am I doing, walking side by side with the Zmaj Al’fa?

Exhaustion mingles with relief and a weariness that weighs on my heart and soul. All the while the Al’fa has remained close.

The Al’fa, the Queen, titles but those are not who we are, they are personas we take on. Roles we fulfill. I’ve seen past his mask. Seen the man that fills the role and good or bad, I like what I saw.

I have to admit that it helps the way he continuously darts glances at me. Appraising, but also appreciative. I feel certain that he’s having the same doubts I am. What we’re considering should be impossible. A never thing. Something that no one would or even should ever consider.

Yet here we are.

The memory of his lips on mine lingers, leaving a tingling warmth I can’t shake.

There is a light ahead. Brilliant, almost blinding. It hurts my eyes, it’s so intense. I hesitate, coming to a stop. Janara looks over his shoulder, but I nod that he should continue. The people stream past while I take a moment. The Al’fa remains at my side.

“How long?” he asks, knowing the right question because somehow, impossible as it should be, he knows me. He seems to recognize what is happening in my head.

“Once,” I say. “When I was very young. My father had me escorted to the surface.”

“Mine too,” he says, reaching over and claiming my hand.

I like his hand. Despite the heat rising from behind us and the warmth of the twin suns ahead, his hand is cool to the touch. Cool and comforting. He squeezes and I return the gesture.

“I sat on a cliff, staring across the rolling desert. Watched the suns rise and as they rose I recited the story. Of how we Urr’ki, the First Born, were driven from the surface of Tajss. We gave it to the Zmaj in an effort to find peace. Letting them have it so that we could stop the bloodshed.”

“I have not heard this tale,” he says.

Urr’ki, Zmaj, and humans move around and past us. Some cast odd glances at the two of us standing here holding hands, but what better symbol could we show them than this one?

There is one better. If she lives.I scan the crowd, heart pounding.Where is she?

Elara. Ryatuv. Z’leni. They should be here.

Of all of us, they are the true symbol. The shape of what we could be. The bright hope I believe will be strong enough to endure. But I don’t see them. And then?—

“There! There they are!”

My heart leaps. I spin around as a trio emerges from the smoke filled tunnel. They’re covered in soot, limping, all of them on the verge of collapse, but alive.

Elara. Ryatuv. Z’leni.

They support one another, propping each other up with stubborn strength. Elara’s hair is tangled and coated with ash. Her skin is streaked with grime, but she’s standing. Her gaze locks with mine through the swirling ash and noise, a line thrown across the storm.

In this moment it’s so clear. I see the future. These three represent what we can be. Three species coming together as one. Not losing ourselves in the mix, each standing proud and whole, yet united.

Their budding love, the strength they share, the pain they’ve survived has forged them into something greater. Made them into the hope they carry. I rush to meet them. I don’t think. I act.

“Elara!” I yell, and I don’t care that my voice breaks. “You stubborn, impossible creature!”

She gives me a tired smile. “Takes one to know one.”

I laugh, loud and wild.

Z’leni’s eyes are rimmed in red, but steady. Ryatuv’s jaw is clenched, his body bruised, but he is unbowed. They made it back. My heart finally settles.

I pull her tight then let her go, back into the arms of her men. She smiles, shaking her head with uncertainty.

“Thank you,” I say. “All of you. The three of you stopped the sacrifices.”

“Is he…” Elara trails off not wanting to say it out loud, but the three of them stare, anxious to hear the news.