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Chapter 14

Elsie

C onflict is new to me. My parents never got angry with me. They were too busy feeling sorry for me and grieving my slow demise. So needless to say, Aruan’s out-of-nowhere explosion has left me shaken.

A week passes during which we hardly speak, unless you count “good morning” and a stiff “good evening” as conversation. I sleep in his bed, but he doesn’t join me there.

Thankfully.

I have no idea where he’s sleeping and I have no intention of asking him.

He does try to keep me entertained. I can’t fault him for that. He had paints made from colorful sands. Together with brushes and some kind of bleached hides to serve as canvasses, he had them delivered to his quarters.

The materials are stacked in the corner, untouched. I’ve never been an artist. My talent in that domain is nonexistent. Not even boredom can drive me to paint stick men, even though the brushes are interesting. Fabricated with the tube-like stigmas of flowers, they move and wiggle, almost seeming to paint on their own. Judging by the size of them, those flowers must be enormous—at least the size of my head.

When coaxing me into painting didn’t work, he tried to tempt me with a game played with colorful seeds that hop all by themselves over a patterned board. The aim is to flick the seeds into holes carved into the wood that trap them so they’re unable to continue their hopping. Each seed color carries a certain value. The person who gets the most seeds of the highest value into the holes wins. I guess he summoned Gaia to play with me, who reported diligently for board game duty. She quickly gave up when she ended up playing the game by herself.

Aruan has even brought flowers and treats. At each mealtime, he delivers my favorite dishes, which he claims to make himself to protect me from further poisoning attempts.

For exercise, he takes me to an inner courtyard with a garden and a fountain in the center. Sparkly purple and red flowers turn their heads toward any movement, and trees with rubbery black trunks and white ropey vines draped over their branches give off a sweet, spicy smell that reminds me of aniseed. We stroll along the paths that cut through the exotic plants without saying a word to each other. Neither of us mentions our mating again.

Although it’s hanging like a prison sentence over my head, we refrain from discussing that subject at all costs. We’re both avoiding the inevitable fight and the uncomfortable strain that, as I’ve recently discovered, apparently goes hand-in-hand with conflict.

Sadly, that avoidance also prevents me from asking him questions about Zerra. I’m eager to solve the mystery of this world. Not knowing drives me nuts. But I can’t bring myself to give in first and break our silent war. My pride and self-preservation are at stake.

When Aruan can’t escort me to the interior garden himself, he sends Gaia or Vitai to do it. Sometimes, Kian accompanies me when neither Gaia nor Vitai are available.

Gaia and I have become friendly. I like her straightforwardness that never lacks tact or kindness. She takes me on a tour of the palace, showing me the majestic Great Hall and the Sky Bridge.

The Great Hall boasts life-size statues of all the Alit kings and queens that have ruled over Lona. They stand in circle upon circle around the hall, their stony faces stern and serious.

The Sky Bridge is the bridge I saw from Aruan’s balcony, the one that connects to a platform in the center and a smaller cliff on the other end. The drop below is impressive enough to give me vertigo. From what I’ve seen, I thought there was only one set of stairs carved into the cliff, but as it turns out, there are two. On one side, the steps lead to the sea, and on the other, they go down to a hill.

Just as I get excited about going outside, she tells me that the waterfall can only be opened by authorized Alit, which is just another way of telling me how trapped I truly am.

I don’t hesitate to pepper her with my questions, but she can only tell me the things I’ve worked out for myself already, namely that the Alit are a humanoid species who somehow ended up sharing their world with dinosaurs and other species, like the Phaelix. She seems clueless as to how their powers work from a scientific perspective, or how it is that she’s able to open portals—though she does say that she’s practiced portal work since she was a child.

Her power, like that of other Alit, seems to be something between an ability that she was born with and a skill that she’s perfected.

Secretly, I like the brothers too. Kian is austerely quiet, but I’ve come to appreciate his silence. Only once have we chatted during a walk. As Aruan and I don’t speak, he’s never given me any information on how the investigations are progressing. So, one day, I posed my questions to Kian.

Have they found the person who let the Phaelix into the palace yet?

What about the person who tried to poison me?

He gave me a cryptic no, and then stopped abruptly to warn me in a serious tone to be careful.

What were his exact words? “Not everyone is happy that you’re here, Elsie. Be vigilant, trust no one, and always watch your back.”

Yeah, that didn’t help me feel at home.

Vitai, on the other hand, is the chatty one. I’ve learned more about Zerra from him than anyone else. I know, for example, that the Alit are spread across five kingdoms, and that their lifestyle is very much medieval-ish—exactly the vibe I got when I first arrived here. Nowhere on Zerra is there electricity or the modern inventions of Earth, yet the people possess these inexplicable powers. There are many types of “dragons,” too many to count, not that I ever get a chance to see any. Aruan makes sure I can’t get outside.

I’ve taken to snooping around, especially in the kitchen where most of the gossiping seems to happen. The cook, an elderly lady called Jina, has told me I’m not allowed to take anything from the pantry. It’s not that she wouldn’t like to feed me, but after the poisoning attempt, Aruan gave them strict orders that only he’s allowed to prepare my meals. It’s strangely sweet. Then again, he’s only protecting his own interests. He can’t let his possession perish, can he?

But Jina is content to let me hang around her working space where she shouts orders at a team of cooks and cleaners as long as I keep my fingers out of her cooking pots. Unfortunately, the gossip mostly involves personal matters, and I don’t learn much from them.

I did discover that the king’s quarters are on the opposite side of the palace from the queen’s—a strange arrangement for a “mated” couple, if you ask me. More importantly, the doors are always guarded. There’s no chance of getting in. The rest of the royals avoid me like the plague.

Deciding to resort to books for more information, I asked Gaia where the library was—because every respectable palace has a library, right?—and she shocked me by saying they don’t have books on Zerra.

“But what about history and science?” I asked her once I’d explained the concept of books. “How do you teach that to your new generations?”

She just smiled and said, “It’s in our heads. That’s all we need. We tell it to our children, and they tell it to theirs in turn.”

“But what about the scrolls?” I asked, at which she laughed and told me the scrolls weren’t books.

I bombarded her with more questions. For starters, if the scrolls weren’t books, then what were they? But she only waved a hand and changed the subject.

Which left me no closer to figuring out how this world came about or what it is. All I can do is speculate and come up with theories, gleaned mostly from my favorite books and movies. Such as the multiverse in Marvel comics—that’s a real thing, right? Not Spider-Man and all the superheroes but the multiverse concept itself. Certainly, in The Big Bang Theory , the physicists seemed to think there could be multiple universes, each with its own unique Earth. So maybe that’s what Zerra is—a parallel universe’s Earth, one where history took a different turn, and the asteroid did not wipe out the dinosaurs.

That would explain why this place is so similar to Earth yet so very different. If this were truly an alien planet, I would’ve died within moments of setting foot on it. The atmosphere, the force of gravity, the surface temperature—everything would be drastically different and likely not compatible with human life. Case in point: Jupiter, Mars, or any other planet known to our scientists. But Zerra is not like that. Venomous critters and giant bugs aside, it’s quite welcoming to humans… or at least to humanoid Alit. Which is yet another point in favor of my theory.

If Zerra were not a parallel Earth, there’s simply no way there would be a humanoid species on it, not even one with crazy powers.

Yeah, I’m all out of theories on that one.

Mulling all this over takes up some of my mental space, but not any of my free time. So, with nothing better to do, I try to escape.

It’s futile. Each time, I find the doors tightly sealed and heavily guarded. Unless I sprout wings and fly from the window, I’m not going anywhere soon, not unless Aruan allows it.

So, when he walks into his quarters with a brand-new pair of soft, suede-like boots and asks if I’d like to go for a walk on the grounds, I’m not too proud to jump on the opportunity.

A short while later, he escorts me down the cliff steps with my arm tucked through his. This time, I’m not wearing one of those long, impractical dresses. I nicked a pair of Aruan’s pants, which I’ve rolled up several times and tied with laces around my waist. One of his white shirts that I’ve knotted in the front completes my outfit.

People working the fields next to the palace stare with open mouths as he leads me regally down the path, going in the opposite direction from the lake. They’re obviously not used to seeing women in men’s clothes. Or perhaps it’s the formidable and intimidating sight of Aruan. Or maybe it’s just me—Aruan’s “terrifying” mate.

Aruan grins as he drags his gaze over me. “Did you miss me so much that you had to steal my clothes just to feel a little nearer to me, my sweet?” He continues with his wicked teasing, “You don’t have to be ashamed to admit it.”

Ah. It seems our quiet spell is broken.

“Ha.” I turn up my nose. “No one can trudge through the mud in those long skirts.” I lift a foot to admire the comfortable, perfectly fitting boot. “These are much better than those princess shoes.”

“I’ll have to rectify the situation.” Laughter sounds in his voice. “I’ll order you some men’s clothes in your size.”

Suspicious, I glance at him sideways. “You’re in a good mood.”

He looks down at me with a smoldering smile. “That’s because the moon is almost full.”

My heart gives a funny little jerk.

No.

I refuse to admit just how handsome he is when he smiles like that, both with arrogance and a soft warmth that reaches his eyes.

Regretting broaching the subject, I scoff. “Well, only one of us is looking forward to that. But don’t think for one moment I won’t fight you.”

“Oh, I know you will.” His eyes gleam. “I’m bargaining on it.”

Fuck. My belly heats before bottoming out in a very anticipatory way. He knows how to get to me, and by me , I specifically mean my dormant lady bits.

I turn away to hide my flush. “Where are we going?”

“The sacred site,” he answers, and it’s all I can do to hide my excitement as he continues, “I’ve been very busy with politics these past few days, so I haven’t had the time to take you there as I promised.”

My ears prick up. “What do these politics involve?” Maybe I’ll finally learn something.

He sighs and says cryptically, “Diplomatic issues.”

Right. He’s not going to divulge anything. So much for picking his brain.

“Is it far?” When he frowns, I add, “The sacred site.”

He points toward a cluster of palm trees in the distance. “It’s a short walk.”

I pick up my pace as excitement courses through me. Soon, I’m the one leading, dragging Aruan faster down the path.

He laughs. “Slow down, my sweet. Don’t you want to enjoy the fresh air, make it last?”

“I want to see the site,” I say honestly, barely able to contain myself.

His voice is deep and gruff, sending goosebumps over my skin. “In that case, I won’t make you wait. I’d loathe to disappoint you.”

I don’t reply because something else has captured my attention.

A brown-gray moth flutters past us before settling on the pineapple-shaped cone of a cycad.

A kalligrammatid!

It’s bigger and duller than the average butterfly back on Earth, but like butterflies, eyespots mark their wings. On Earth, they lived from the middle of the Jurassic to the late Cretaceous period before becoming extinct.

I stop to admire it. Butterflies and moths evolved more than two hundred million years ago and co-existed with dinosaurs. So did bees, give or take one hundred million years. I noticed that Aruan uses a lot of honey in the food and drinks he prepares for me. There must be hives somewhere. Everything on Zerra confirms the theories scientists have developed about these animals and insects that once also populated Earth.

I watch with fascination as the big moth-like insect unfurls its proboscis and begins to suck up pollination drops from the gymnosperm.

“Come.” Aruan tugs on my arm. “The sun is climbing, and I want to get there before it ruins your pretty skin by burning it red.”

Reluctant to leave the kalligrammatid, of which I’d only seen pictures of fossils before now, I fall into step next to Aruan again.

It’s much quieter on this side of the palace. The roar of the water that laps at the cliffs is absent. Even the distant cries of the pterosaurs are silent. There’s only a faint buzzing sound, like the humming of bees.

A short way from the trees, I spot the hives that are nestled into cave-like hollows in the rockface.

Aruan points in that direction. “That’s where our honey comes from. The stingers prefer the non-meat-eating flowers on this side of the palace.”

“Stingers?” I wrinkle my nose. “Oh, you mean bees.”

“Bees?”

“We have them on Earth too. They’re very old, you know, millions of years. And sadly, they’ve become endangered.”

I want to question him more, but a big body of water that appears in the distance as we reach the top of a hill draws my gaze.

Like the lake on the other side, the surface of the water is flat, but the sand is blueish instead of gray, and the water shines pink, not black, in the sun.

Huge trees with drooping branches that touch the water grow on the shore. The red, pointy leaves are big, creating a thick foliage that throws dark patches of shade on the ground. A few fallen leaves drift lazily on the water, floating close to a stretch of small white flowers shaped like blossoms that push up from yellow-green, round, fatty leaves.

I shade my eyes with a hand against the brightness of the pale, white sun. “What are those flowers growing on the water?”

“Those are pond lilies. The petals and the leaves are used to cook yaryia , the dish you like so much. It’s a dangerous job to harvest them because the water is infested with finned and four-legged snakes, and the biggest and most aggressive of all the dragons lay their eggs beneath the branches of the blood trees on the shore.”

A rainbow stretches from one end of the lake to the other, drawing a spectrum of red, purple, blue, and green across the sky.

“This is so pretty,” I say, drinking in the sight.

Aruan sounds both pleased and proud. “There are many beautiful places on Zerra, Elsie.”

What he’s really saying is that, in time, I’ll come to love my new “home.” Or that’s what he hopes.

Agreed, Zerra is an amazing world. Because… dinosaurs ! I’m not saying I want to settle here, but damn. Dinosaurs .

I turn to face him. “How old are the dragons?”

“The dragons have always been here.”

“And the Alit?”

“Not as long as the dragons.”

“How do you know?”

“The scrolls,” he answers. “That’s what they say.”

The mysterious scrolls. I can’t wait to get my hands on them.

We continue toward a rocky outcrop at the foot of the hill. When we get closer, I realize that the gunmetal-gray shapes protruding from the soil aren’t random rocks. They’re megaliths. A dolmen is built into a hill that stands in the middle of the menhirs dotting the landscape like loaf-shaped lumps of granite.

A guard sits on a slab of stone next to the entrance of the dolmen, dozing in the humid heat. All the Alit I’ve met so far are ridiculously handsome and well-built. This man is no exception, except that his chin protrudes a little, and he has slightly bulging eyes.

He jumps to his feet and stands at attention when he notices us. He looks frightened and ill at ease.

“This site is off limits to the public,” Aruan says as he stops in front of a huge rock that’s rolled in front of the porthole. “These artifacts are precious. We’ve lost too many of them through plundering and wars. Hence, people can visit the inside only once a year, on a special day, and permission must be obtained in the form of a permit well in advance.”

And he’s brought me here, just like that. I suppose when you’re the future king, you have special privileges.

Aruan focuses on the entrance. The rock parts, forming a huge gap to let us through.

The guard looks on with round eyes, his pointed chin trembling. Although I’m just as awed, I try hard not to show it. Aruan’s power to open stone walls never grows old or less intimidating. I wish I knew how it worked, how it is that he’s able to break the molecular bonds with his mind.

We’re still standing arm in arm. I thought Aruan was holding on to me so firmly because he thinks I’ll take flight the minute he gives me freedom. But I’m proven wrong when he detangles our arms and stands patiently at a small distance. Apparently, he’s not worried that I’ll get away. I don’t want to analyze what that says about him keeping our arms interlinked. I don’t want to think that he could simply like to touch me.

“After you,” he says, motioning at the opening in the rock.

Too curious to decline the invitation, I step inside the cave-like room. It’s much cooler inside but not less humid. The air smells of wet soil and fungus.

A torch in a holder against the wall catches fire. I give a start, but Aruan only smiles and shrugs, saying without words that this is just another one of his incredible powers.

Turning my attention to the room, I look around in the light of the torch. The ceiling is low. I can stand up straight, but Aruan has to bend his tall body to prevent his head from bumping on the stone ceiling. He ushers me toward the back that, to my surprise, opens up into a narrow tunnel.

A distant hum reaches my ears, almost like chanting.

Aruan goes ahead through the tunnel, taking my hand to help me through. On the other side, more torches light up, illuminating a few steep steps.

We follow them down into another room. On closer inspection, I realize it’s a cist, a stone enclosure buried beneath the ground.

At the far end stands a stone altar with various items arranged on top of it. Men wearing white tunics and pants are kneeling in front of the altar in what seems to be some kind of prayer, which explains the chanting.

“What is this place?” I whisper, more to myself than to Aruan.

“We don’t know,” he says behind me, his breath fanning the hair on my nape and sending a tingle down my spine. “All we know is that we need to preserve the scrolls. They’re fragile. Many of them have already been destroyed.”

I expected actual rolls of paper or leather with writing captured on it, but the translucent pyramids in different sizes displayed on the altar don’t look anything like scrolls. They seem to glow from within, transmitting light that projects on the dark, polished surface of the stone walls. The light fragments, like in a kaleidoscope, and then reassembles to form short flashes of a video that run across the walls. The colors are faint and the pictures distorted, making it difficult to decipher what it’s showing. Then the light breaks down and reshapes again, and a different video clip plays in a staccato pulsing of RGB colors.

Spellbound, I stare at the images flashing on the walls. “These are the scrolls?”

“The priests believe they contain messages,” Aruan says. “Various prophecies left behind for us. The guardians of the scrolls devote their lives to preserving them and to interpreting the messages they contain.”

The kneeling men show no awareness of our presence. They continue to chant in their trance-like state, their eyes fixed on the walls and their faces lit in the colors of the strange projections.

“Do they live here, these priests?” I ask, watching them in fascination.

“Pretty much. Villagers bring them water, food, and other necessities. People believe they will be blessed if they take care of the priests and therefore of the scrolls the priests are tasked with preserving.”

I wrinkle my nose. “What about bathing and toilet breaks?”

Aruan smiles. “The priests have a separate exit through the roof of the temple that’s hidden from sight. No one knows exactly where it is or where it comes out. There are many tunnels hidden behind a secret opening. That’s where they have their living quarters. The river that feeds into the lake sends bathing water into the temple via a vein that runs underground.”

“What about removing their garbage?” At Aruan’s frown, I explain, “Their waste products.”

“They leave it at the entrance. The people who bring them food take it away.”

“But that means they live like moles,” I exclaim.

One of the men glares at me from over his shoulder.

“Sorry,” I say, making a face. I’ve clearly interrupted his concentration.

Aruan seems amused. “Moles?”

“They’re blind animals that live underground.”

“Indeed.” He cracks his neck, which must be aching from being bent into such an uncomfortable position. “Some of them go blind from reading the scrolls and living underground their whole life.”

I want to say that’s terrible, but I keep my judgement to myself.

Aruan motions me closer to the altar with a hand. “Have a look.”

I step gingerly over some roots that break through the soil and stop short of the men to peer at the pyramids. At first glance, I thought they were made of a clear acrylic material or glass, but upon a closer look, they appear soft instead of hard, as if made of silicone.

This is beyond amazing. Whatever these small pyramids are, I’m staring at very advanced technology. Or magic. But my bet is on technology—a technology that seems far beyond what the Alit possess.

Where did it come from? Aliens? An advanced civilization that existed on Zerra in the past? If it’s the latter, what happened to it?

“Does the light ever go out?” I ask.

“The light is eternal.”

“How does it work?”

“We don’t know.”

I turn in a circle, studying the images that run along the walls. We’re underground, so the scrolls can’t be solar-powered. Some kind of super-long-lasting batteries? Maybe even fusion technology? “How old do you think the scrolls are?”

“It’s difficult to say. Their origins are a mystery. As far as we know, they’ve always been here.”

I look back at him. “And what do they say?”

His smile is wry. “Many things. Most of them incomprehensible. Some are interpreted as prophecies, though—one of which is about a ruler more powerful than Zerra has ever seen and his mate.”

“Is that the one where you’re supposed to destroy your world?” I study his face, the strong lines and handsome features, the undeniable masculinity. The striking perfection. “How can they be so sure that the prophesied ruler is you? Who says someone else more powerful won’t be born?”

His smile disappears, and a shutter drops in front of his eyes.

“Aruan?” He’s hiding something again. “What aren’t you telling me?” When he remains quiet, I resort to outright manipulation. “If you want me to live here and be your mate, shouldn’t I know what I’m getting myself into?”

He lets out a long breath before taking my arm and pulling me a short distance away where we’re out of earshot before saying in a strained voice, “There was an incident when I was young. I was playing in the jungle when a sand snake bit me. I didn’t mean to, but in my anguish, I set off an explosion that killed every living thing in a moon cycle’s radius, except for me.” I suppress a horrified gasp as he continues, “For many cycles later, nothing could live there. Every animal that crossed that circle died a short while later.” His eyes darken. “People too. My father forbade anyone to go near that place and tried to keep it quiet, but the rumors spread like embers carried on the wind.”

My heart thumps dully in my chest. It can’t be what I’m thinking… can it? My voice shakes a bit. “How did the explosion look when it happened?”

“There was a big cloud, round like a venomous fungus, growing up and up while rippling the air. People saw it from a great distance. The noise was deafening.”

I stare at him with a slack jaw.

No. That can’t be.

That sounds like a nuclear explosion. Radiation would explain why the animals and people who became exposed died.

Fuck. Is that Aruan’s superpower? He can set off a nuclear explosion… that he himself is able to survive?

Without meaning to, I take a step away from him. As I try to process everything I know about his power, my mind spins. He can manipulate matter by dissolving bonds between molecules and vaporize living things with just a thought. Can he dissolve atomic bonds with a mere thought too?

His gaze darkens further as he watches my retreat, so I force myself to stop. But I can’t completely hide the tremor in my voice as I ask, “Have you ever used your power like that since?”

His lips flatten. “I’ve been diligent in practicing caution. I don’t want to inflict that kind of damage ever again.”

But he can.

If he wants to.

Or if he loses control.

This is terrible.

He’s a literal timebomb. A living, breathing, walking nuclear weapon.

The magnitude of his power nearly makes my knees buckle. No wonder people believe he’s the prince mentioned in the scrolls.

No wonder they’re terrified of him.

And by extension, of me.

My stomach churns as I stare at the powerful man in front of me, even as uninvited sympathy invades my chest. How lonely he must be. Everyone must be too frightened to interact with him on any level deeper than a superficial one, including his own family. It’s obvious that they care about him, but they’re not as close as I’d expect siblings and parents to be.

I want to say something, but no words come as he takes my hand and pulls me back upstairs, through the dolmen, and into the sunshine. Feeling frozen to my bones, I welcome the tropical heat.

The rock closes behind us. The guard still stands at attention next to it, sweat dripping down his face. I can’t say if it’s from fear or from the weather. His shoulders sag in relief when Aruan leads me back up the path.

I understand his fear now more than ever. What exactly is the extent of Aruan’s power? Can he truly destroy this world? A single nuclear explosion is unlikely to do that, but maybe a series of them?

Then again, maybe his power can manifest in some other, even more destructive way. In a way that’s connected to his mate… which he’s convinced is me .

Fuck. I need to leave this place, now. How do I do that? Somehow, the Phaelix can travel between worlds. That’s how they bring the humans here. And if they brought me here, they must be able to take me back.

That is, if they don’t enslave me first.

A few kalligrammatids flap up from the undergrowth, fluttering toward the lake. Undoubtedly cognizant of my internal turmoil, Aruan veers off the path to follow them.

“Look,” he says, showing me a patch of alien flowers with black petals and pink, elongated cones in the center. “Night flowers. They’ve earned the name because they only give off their scent after sunset.” He bends down and neatly breaks off a thick stalk on the ground. “Let’s pick you some. You can put them in a vase and discover their perfume when night falls.”

I watch, lost in thought, as he continues to gather a bouquet. I suppose what he’s doing is romantic. No man has ever given me flowers, and I am curious about their smell. But it’s not enough to make me forget about what I’ve learned.

A nuclear explosion.

What if something sets him off again?

I swallow and edge away from Aruan, closer to the blueish shore of the lake. I need time to think, to gather my thoughts and put everything in perspective. Or maybe just a private moment to come to terms with it all.

I dig the toe of my boot into the blue sand. It shimmers like sea sand in the sun, like the particles of broken mother-of-pearl and abalone. Does that mean there are shellfish in the water? I’d give anything to scuba dive to the bottom of this lake.

A rustling sounds near the overhanging branches of the blood tree. I turn to face it, and then my heart slams to a stop.

A long beak peeks through the strings of dense leaves. The pointed toes of a claw follow next. The whole tree appears to shake, the music of the leaves like the gentle jingling of a tambourine, and then a quetzalcoatlus steps out, its giraffe-like body throwing a long shadow that swallows me.

“Elsie!” Aruan yells just as the magnificent animal spreads its enormous wings and charges straight at me.

I know what Aruan is going to do without having to look at him. The strange connection that I always feel to him warns me of his intention.

I spin around, shouting, “No!” as I sprint toward Aruan. My heart beats with unfamiliar strength in my chest, fueling me to run faster. “No, Aruan! Don’t hurt her!” Skidding to a halt in the mud, I fall at Aruan’s feet and throw my arms around his legs. “Please don’t kill her. She’s not going to harm us. Look—she’s stopped!”

A quick glance over my shoulder confirms that the quetzalcoatlus has slowed down to a penguin-like waggle.

“It’s Betty,” I cry out when his jaw hardens at the quetzalcoatlus’s approach. “Look,” I say again. “She has a tear in her left wing at the tip.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off the quetzalcoatlus as he replies in a grim tone, “It’ll eat you for a snack.”

“She won’t,” I insist. “I know her.”

Proving the point, the pterosaur stops and tilts her head before lifting her beak as if smelling the air.

I hug his legs tighter. “Please, Aruan. Please. If you care even one iota about me, please don’t harm her.”

An internal battle rages in his eyes.

Sensing the shift in him, I stare up at him with my best pleading look. “She knows me. See?”

“How the dragon would it know you?” he asks through gritted teeth, breaking his stare at the perceived danger to glance at me.

Yes. My begging has the desired effect. His expression softens a fraction.

“She flew past your window,” I say. “She knows me.”

“You’re dreaming. It’ll gobble you down whole.”

“Give her a chance.” I climb to my feet, holding Aruan’s gaze. “She’s not going to hurt us.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. Staring down the pterosaur again, he says, “I’ve seen what these dragons are capable of with my own eyes.”

“Aruan,” I say in a no-nonsense manner.

He glances at me again.

I cross my arms. “If you hurt her, you hurt me.”

He works his jaw from side to side, but the killing rage inside him diminishes. It hovers there, just in case, but apparently, he does care enough to listen to my plea.

When I sense his power retracting, I blow out a sigh of relief.

“Not so fast, mate,” he says with narrowed eyes. “If it shows any signs of aggression, it’s dead.”

“Yes, I know. It’ll take you a millisecond to vaporize her. So just relax for now, okay?”

Despite my flippant tone, I’m worried for Betty, even though she won’t be aggressive toward me. I can’t explain how I know it, but I do.

Betty comes closer.

And closer still.

Aruan tenses behind me, and I sense his power welling up again.

“She won’t hurt me,” I reiterate, my gaze glued to the prehistoric creature that’s now standing over me, staring into my eyes. “Please, just give her a chance.”

Aruan’s power crackles in the air around us, potent and deadly, but to my relief, he doesn’t unleash it. Maybe it’s because he knows he can kill Betty faster than she can do me harm, or maybe it’s because she’s not showing any signs of wanting to rip me to pieces with her claws or to grasp me in her beak and fling me through the air.

I hold my breath as she lowers her head and sniffs me.

Aruan stands like a lethal weapon behind me, ready to vaporize the five-hundred-pound pterosaur if she dares to step out of line, but all she does is tilt her head and… rub against me.

Aruan goes still. It’s more than the mere quiet that defines an absence of sound. His whole being freezes in the way that follows in the wake of disbelief and miracles.

The creature closes her eyes as if in ecstasy and rubs her fine-haired head against my neck. The tuft of feathers on her crown tickles my nose.

A giggle bubbles over my lips.

Aruan clenches my shoulders in his big hands, his grip like an iron vise. But Betty continues to rub herself against me, dragging her chin over my hair. She nudges me softly and gently runs her barbed, prehensile tongue over my hand before returning to caressing my face.

“Dragons,” Aruan says, his voice not sounding like his own.

Carefully, he pulls me away from the pterosaur, walking us backward toward the path, the black flowers forgotten where he dropped them on the ground.

Betty is undeterred. She follows us, her long neck swaying as she trudges after me like a tame goose with her huge claws sinking into the wet soil. It’s not until we reach the border of the farming fields that she pauses.

This must be her cut-off point, the closest to the Alit she’s prepared to go on foot.

As Aruan and I climb to the top of the hill, her cry pierces the sky—a lonely, hauntingly sad sound.

The villagers look up with fright, then drop their forks and spades, getting ready to run for their lives.

With a last stretch of her neck in our direction, Betty unfolds her wings and bounces off her powerful legs to leap eight feet into the air. Screams from people running for the nearest shelter echo through the valley as she dives low, swirling over Aruan and me, before flapping her wings with strong strokes and heading back toward the lake with the speed of a car on a highway.

“Wow.” I stare at her fast-disappearing shape in wonder. “Wasn’t that amazing?”

When I turn back to Aruan, he’s staring at me with astonishment and confusion.