Page 34 of Across the Stars (Cosmic Threads of Fate #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

WATAI

“Mae, I must depart for the day. I need to go assist my wing in clearing some fallen trees along the river.”

Watai turned and pointed north along the river, into the thick jungle-covered mountains between the lake and the bay, where the trees had fallen.

“I know it sounds dangerous, but it’s important for us to get it done before the next large rainstorm. The mountain drainage will flood our paddies and damage the tribe’s food sources.”

Mae stared at the direction he was pointing, her eyes distant, and reached for Iskzo’s neck, scratching his threadmount as the confusion on her face faded.

“Scratches are my payment for translating for her.” Iskzo’s voice was smug, as it always was when he got his way.

“I told her what you said, and she knows what she needs to do. She told me not to be concerned about her. While she would rather be with you, she enjoyed learning from her new instructors yesterday and wishes to learn more about and from them.”

Watai wished he could stay by her side and teach and train her, but his duty as a wingleader demanded that he protect the people from risks.

“Don’t worry, Mae,” Watai reassured her.

“Yawix and Xarntu will look after you while I’m gone.

They’ll show you around the heart of the tree and teach you more about our ways.

And when I return, we can go to dinner then practice long distance swimming before bed.

I’ll see if my wing member’s mount can help us out. ”

Mae nodded, still scratching Iskzo’s head.

Watai sighed deeply and brushed a strand of hair away from Mae’s face. He palmed her cheek and met her rich brown gaze, taking a moment to simply look at her, memorizing every curve and line of her face.

He was a warrior, and his people needed him.

His threadmate would be safe while he was away.

Watai leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, wishing he could stay so they could learn everything about each other, but duty called.

As he reached for Iskzo’s reins, he felt a twinge of guilt.

He took a deep breath and climbed onto Iskzo’s back before taking off into the sky.

As they rose higher and higher, the wind whipped past him.

Watai felt his worries wash away as they made their way through the canopy to the mind hall, where he knew his parents would be spending the rest of the morning.

Watai noticed Iskzo’s muscles tensing and his body shifting in preparation for landing. As he slowed and changed his flight path, Iskzo drew back and pumped his six wings in unison.

Watai quickly unclasped his straps and leapt onto the wooden porch as soon as Iskzo landed on the perch.

“I hope this doesn’t take too long,” Watai pathed, affectionately patting his threadmount’s shoulder. “Please notify my wing assistants that we will be meeting them there.”

“Your will is mine,” Iskzo replied, his mental voice tone solemn. Watai’s Z’myuzo was in work mode and ready to lead their wing. “I’ll stay here and wait for you. There’s no need for me to sunbathe or catch a snack when you shouldn’t be gone for long.”

“ Thank you, friend. ”

As Watai climbed the stairwell, nostalgia for his childhood memories within the wooden walls built by his ancestors hit him. Walking around the hut he used to live in, knowing it was no longer his home, felt both welcoming and bittersweet.

While his parents were the clan’s leaders, he never let their rank get to his head, and he never used his blood as an excuse to abuse the power that his parents and sister held.

Watai pushed through the vine curtain into the topmost floor, where his parents’ private residence lay, feeling the cool wooden planks against the soles of his feet.

His mother and sister were crushing leaves in stone bowls at the table in the center of the floor, while his father was gazing out the window with his elaborate headdress on, ready to begin the cycle.

“What brings you here, nyi ’ytan ?” his mother inquired, her gaze fixed on the task at hand. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your wing?”

“I’m here about Mae—”

“Of course you are,” the Z’Aymo said. Her golden speckled eyes glowed brightly. “She’s been the topic of many conversations lately.”

“Has she?” His tail remained motionless, but his ears pinned back. He didn’t want his threadmate to become the center of clan gossip. She deserved better than their scrutiny. “What role does she play in these discussions?”

“Members of our clan born from the Coral Tides, Jeweled Claw, and Sacred Claw tribes have expressed their concerns about her differences, including the light color of her scaleless skin. She will be at a disadvantage when it comes to camouflage,” she explained as she added more leaves to the bowl and ground them into an herbal paste.

“I’m more concerned with her lack of a tail.

There have been a few instances where a tribe member has lost their tail in battle, but they were already in a completely sealed cosmic thread at the time. ”

“Except for the dagger-wielding warrior, Kraw, who lost most of his tail to a Kutsiu five harvest seasons ago,” Drxya added, scooping her medicine paste onto a large leaf and rolling it up before placing it inside her small basket.

“No matter how many harvest festivals he attends, he hasn’t found a threadmate. ”

“But you don’t know that that’s because Z’myu won’t give a mate to a being without a xa’mylu.

Perhaps his threadmate has not yet passed their trials and reached full maturity,” Watai countered, his hands curled into fists, frustrated with the direction the conversation had taken.

“Kraw is still in his prime, and he has been nothing but loyal to Z’myu all these years.

There must be another way for him to seal his bond despite his missing xa’mylu. ”

“His tongue,” Darha muttered, her ears flicking back as if she was ashamed to admit it.

“Our tongues connect similarly to our xa’mylu, but not as well as our xava.

It takes much practice and patience over a longer period of time for a bond to fully develop, but it allows those like Kraw to complete the bond. ”

“Tongues?” Watai’s ears perked up at the new information, and his mind raced with visions of passionately kissing Mae in order to gradually strengthen their bond before the trials, and thus alleviate the ache in his chest. “Does that mean there’s a chance I could complete the bond and communicate with Mae by kissing her? ”

“It’s never been done before.” His mother paused her hands and peered up at him. “I can’t guarantee it will work that way.”

“We have never met an outsider who doesn’t know Z’myu’s language or our traditions,” his father interjected, whipping his tail back and forth and averting his gaze from the window to address his family.

“Which makes your unique situation with Mae even more intriguing. It would be beneficial to our tribe if you could learn more about her people and where they are located so that we can make first contact with them.”

“You want to meet them? Why so soon?” Watai frowned, unsure how he felt about the idea.

He didn’t want to go looking for reasons to complicate his already fragile relationship.

Who knew if her people were friendly? A bad first impression could turn into a clan war.

“Shouldn’t we wait until I’ve completed my connection with her?

I thought we were going to introduce her to the other leaders at the harvest festival and have her explain why she had metallic items on her when I first discovered her. ”

“I’d like to know what we’re up against, so we can prepare,” his father replied, his stern gaze daring him—and his mother, the Z’Aymo—to challenge his suggestion. “Mae is dangerous. She’s discovering everything about us while we know nothing about her—”

“Father,” Watai hissed, pinning his ears back with his fists, his talons piercing his palms. “My Mae hasn’t even been here for a span—barely one handful of cycles—and you’re already assuming she’s a threat?

She’s my threadmate, and it’s my responsibility to protect and care for her.

I will not let that Oekan—that jealous, pitiful excuse for a male—poison your mind any longer—”

“Watai,” his mother growled, leaping to her feet and stepping between her threadmate and her son, snapping her head back and forth between them.

“I will not allow such claims to be repeated. Z’myu made her decision regarding Mae and embraced her as one of her children.

Why treat her like a forsaken child when she has done nothing to deserve it? ”

“She’s too different,” the Z’Awnu snarled, jerking his head toward Watai as he glared at his co-leader and threadmate.

“I’ve noticed a lot of intelligence behind her eyes as I’ve studied her.

How do we know she’s not an infiltrator sent to learn everything she can about our clan and report back to her people? ”

“Even if she is, it makes no difference.” His mother charged at her Z’Awnu, daring him to argue with her.

Her back was straight, her shoulders rolled back, and she assumed a dominant stance, commanding him to back down.

“She’s our son’s threadmate, and she hasn’t done anything to merit such suspicion.

If Oekan planted the seed of doubt, perhaps our daughter and I should direct you both to Z’myu, so she can remove it before it takes root. ”

“My Oekan has been obsessed with Mae since she arrived.”

Darha sighed, dropping the last of her rolled-up healing balm into the basket and rubbing her hands on her legs as she stood beside their mother. Her lips were pinched as she looked at their father with disappointment.