Page 17 of Across the Stars (Cosmic Threads of Fate #1)

The natives on this moon needed a female to become the voice of what appeared to be their goddess—their interpretation of what humans often called “Mother Nature.” That female could lead anyone by her side, ruling as a couple or a polycule—as long as they protected the goddess and her people.

There had been no judgment in her tone for Z’Aymos who chose to love differently than she did. Tolerance came naturally to her—to this species. That was something Mae had noticed while interacting with the other two alien species she’d encountered: the Dzextru and the T’sisk.

Humans had adjusted their views on what relationships were socially acceptable numerous times throughout history. But something about Z’Omika’s tone made her views on relationships feel more personal...maybe even spiritual.

Mae had never put effort into spirituality, preferring to believe in herself and what she could accomplish over fate, karma, or some divine entity.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘we are one with Z’Mynua?’” Mae focused her attention on the luminous threads around them. “You haven’t explained where we are or what’s going on.”

“I brought you to the spiritual world through my connection to Z’myu,” Z’Omika responded calmly, as if speaking to a young child. “Would you rather be judged without first freely communicating with me?”

“No.” Mae’s gaze was drawn to two nearby threads, and she followed them, surprised and perplexed to discover that they were heading in their direction. “What exactly are those?”

“Our cosmic threads.” She reached up and took her own, which was thicker and more vibrant than the thin, faded one that led to Mae.

“They are Z’myu’s gift to us, to bind us to our threadmates, their threadmounts, and our own.

Once the bond is sealed, it will open your life to wonders between you and your cordmates, reinforcing your connection until you return to Z’myu. ”

“How does this exist?”

Mae reached for her own thread and hesitated for a moment before grasping the glowing strand.

The cosmic thread pulsed with faint warmth in her hand, almost as if it were alive, making her hand glow with each beat.

She followed the strand to the spiderweb-like tapestry, trying to figure out whom she was linked to.

“Is this what Watai’s space dragon was talking about earlier? That I’m somehow bound to both him and Watai?”

“The space dragon you’re referring to is Iskzo, my son’s Z’myuzo threadmount and your cordmount,” Z’Omika said, stepping beside her.

She pointed to an infinity loop glowing brightly, connected further along the faded strand as it led to the tapestry’s center.

“They are there, on your cosmic thread, waiting for you to accept them.”

“I’m an alien here. Why am I connected to Watai and his Iskzo?” Mae stared at the brightly pulsing loop, wondering if any of this was even real. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure how I’m standing here with you, in what I assume is a spiritual realm, witnessing my connection to your son and his mount.”

“That’s exactly where we are and what we’re doing.

” Z’Omika’s tone was light, as if to alleviate Mae’s concerns.

She pursed her lips and waved her hand along the cosmic thread that led straight to Mae’s chest. “It makes no difference where you come from. We never travel very far from our weavetree unless it is for the purpose of worshiping Z’myu.

“There is one thing I don’t understand. It was reported that you are already bonded to a threadmount, but I see no thread connecting your soul to a mount. Your threadmount still seems to be further along your cord, waiting for you to meet.”

“That’s because I don’t have any—” Mae gasped when she realized what she was talking about.

The Atlantis.

Z’Omika’s people had thought the ship was her mount.

Z’Omika suspected that wasn’t the case—and that she allegedly had a space dragon waiting to be claimed by her.

“You do have a threadmount,” Z’Omika pointed out, her all-knowing white gaze locked on her.

“What perplexes me is how you ended up on someone else’s.

That should be impossible except in emergencies.

Mounts rarely let anyone outside their cosmic cord or their kin ride them. So, what brought you here?”

Mae was at a loss for words. This was not only Watai’s mother, but also the clan’s spiritual leader. If she said the wrong thing, it could cost her.

Considering this strange place and their sudden ability to communicate, Mae wondered whether Z’Omika could tell if she was lying or even stretching the truth. If they were truly in a spiritual plane, Z’Omika almost certainly knew more than she was letting on.

“I come from a faraway land,” Mae replied, grasping what Z’Omika referred to as her cosmic thread and entangling it in her hands, watching how it pulsated and radiated warmth.

“A place without soulmates or threads. I originally came here searching for a new home to colonize, but I had no idea this area was populated. All I want to do now is protect your world from...everything.”

She frowned, wishing she could explain what might happen if all the other alien species and their technology invaded this moon. Mae didn’t want to ruin the pure innocence these people had, untouched by another species. She was already tainting them.

“But I won’t be able to protect you until I’m allowed to access the gear I had when Watai discovered me. The mount I was riding on won’t listen to me unless I have it.”

“This could be your new home, Mae. All you have to do is accept Z’myu’s warm welcome to call it yours.

” Z’Omika wrapped her hands tightly around Mae’s, dwarfing hers.

“I can’t return any of your belongings until I know we can trust you.

Become one of us by learning our ways and accepting your role within the clan and your cosmic thread.

“All energy is borrowed; a life takes then returns energy to Z’myu when its soul returns to her.

That is why Z’myu forbids forging of metal tools.

We can’t return metal to the earth after we’ve taken it.

Your possessions are made of the very thing we are forbidden to use.

You can’t be allowed to use them without the permission of the clan leaders’ council.

“If Z’myu does not punish you for possessing such items, and you learn our ways and accept your life here with us, my Z’Ymelo and I will request an audience for you with the other clan’s leaders at the harvest festival.

It will then be determined if your belongings can be returned to you, even though they are made from forbidden materials. ”

“How long do I have until the harvest festival?”

Mae had already accepted her situation. Things could have been much worse.

She had less than a year before the cynopods woke up the rest of the crew.

She hoped that if the celebration wasn’t too far away, she’d be able to build enough trust with the clan’s members to reclaim her belongings before the safeguard kicked in.

“The festival is seven cycles long and occurs at the beginning of the harvest season, when all the clans come together to celebrate the year’s bounty,” Z’Omika explained as she rocked their enclosed hands along the faded cosmic thread.

“It is when all the leaders meet to discuss any changes or grievances that need to be addressed. Our people discover their thread mates from other clans, while already established bonds decide to seek Z’myu’s blessing for a youngling, and our mounts go through mating season. ”

“And how long until the harvest season?”

“The rainy season has just ended. It’s the beginning of the growing season.” Z’Omika cocked her head, a smirk on her lips. “You have nearly a hundred and fifty cycles to find your place.”