Page 47 of Tharn’s Hunt (Barbarians of the Dust #2)
The word resonates in the mindspace, heavy with meaning I’m only beginning to grasp.
A strange mix of emotions surges through me. Understanding, confusion, and something deeper, more primal. " Then every time I have filled you… " I trail off, my thoughts tangling.
Her brow furrows, her tone softening. " It’s not the same, Tharn. You’re Drakav. I’m human. It’s hard enough to get pregnant on Earth. There’s no way our genetic material is compatible ."
Her words are logical, reasonable. They should soothe the strange tension building in my chest.
But they don’t.
Behind us, Jus-teen shifts uncomfortably. I hear her swallow audibly, her vocalization quiet but edged with something uncertain. "Aliens who… transformed to be perfectly compatible with us."
I stare at Jah-kee, my thoughts spinning. Compatible . The dust reshaped me. Altered me in ways I do not fully understand.
Beside me, I feel a flash of sharp, panicked thought from Jah-kee, directed entirely at her sister. It is too fast for me to grasp fully, a jumble of human words and a chemical name I do not recognize.
Jus-teen’s response is a wave of pure, cold dread.
Could it be possible? Could I create life with Jah-kee?
My chest tightens with awe and wonder, the thought spiraling through me. A new Drakav. A progeny. My progeny.
My focus shifts to Rok, and I see the same realization reflected in his golden eyes. His gaze flicks to Jus-teen and stays there.
But…where would this new Drakav emerge from?
Would it grow beneath Jah-kee’s soft skin, hidden from sight? Would she crack open like a Giving Stone, revealing new life within?
I do not want my mate to crack open.
Jah-kee exhales sharply, breaking the silence. "We’re not down here to discuss making babies," she vocalizes.
Her words snap me back to the present, though the thoughts still churn in my mind.
" We’re here to figure out why the women are getting sick, and where you came from ," she continues.
Kol gestures to the carvings. " The answers lie here. In the Hall of Knowing ."
Jah-kee follows his gaze, her jaw tightening as her resolve solidifies. " Then let’s figure it out .”
Jah-kee continues along the wall, her expression shifting from confusion to fascination as she takes in more of the story.
The first carvings are clear. They show the Daughters of Ain working in large structures, gathering particles of light, shaping them with gestures that seem almost like dance.
Then the Daughters approach the stone columns, placing their creations inside before sealing them with a touch.
Further along, the carvings depict Drakav emerging fully formed from the columns, the Daughters welcoming them with outstretched arms.
"This is incredible," Jah-kee murmurs. " So the Daughters of Ain... created your entire species? "
" Yes ," Kol projects.
I watch her closely as she studies a panel showing Drakav kneeling before the Daughters, offering them water, meat, shelter. The reverence in the carved faces is unmistakable.
" You worshipped them ," she projects.
" They were our makers ," Kol projects simply.
She moves to the next section, where the story shifts. Here, the carvings are less clear, the meaning harder to grasp. She points to a panel that shows several Drakav clustered around a single Daughter of Ain, all reaching for her, their stone faces a confusing mix of devotion and possession.
"Look at this," Jah-kee murmurs to Jus-teen, who has stepped closer. "Doesn't this look like..."
"A harem?" Jus-teen suggests, her eyebrows rising as she takes in the carving.
" Harem ?" I project, the unfamiliar word strange in the mindspace. " What does this mean ?"
Neither female answers immediately, their attention caught by the next panels.
“ What happened here ?” Jah-kee’s brow knits.
The wall is a mess. A huge section of the story is simply gone, the stone either intentionally smashed into rubble or worn away by some ancient cataclysm, leaving a gaping hole in the history of our people.
Fragments of images remain—a broken spear here, a fallen Drakav there—but there is no context, no story. Only the ghost of a great violence.
" What happened?" Jah-kee’s mental projection is filled with horror. " The story... it's just... gone ."
Kol steps forward. " Some stories are too painful to carve ," he projects, his thought resonating with an ancient sorrow. " And some are lost to the dust forever ."
Jah-kee turns to him, waiting. But Kol merely gestures to the far wall, where the carvings resume, clear and pristine once more.
The final image is stark. The few remaining Daughters stand together, their arms raised toward a blazing Ain carved at the apex of the chamber. Around them, swirling particles of light rise upward.
" They went back to Ain ," Kol projects, his mental voice heavy with finality. " They left the dust ."
Jah-kee stares at the image. " But... why? Because of whatever happened here? " She gestures to the ruined section of the wall.
" We do not know the whole truth ," Kol admits. " We know only that they were gone. And we were left alone ."
Jus-teen’s gaze flicks over the carvings. “ That’s why you thought we were these mythic Daughters of Ain . You thought they returned .”
Neither I nor Rok nor Kol reply. Because she is right.
" I don't know if we're your Daughters of Ain ," she projects. " I'm pretty sure we're just humans who, through some kind of luck, crashed on your planet. ”
Jah-kee nods. “It doesn't matter what we believe right now. What matters is keeping the women alive while they adapt—or bond, or whatever needs to happen ."
Her practical approach fills me with pride.
" I want to bring the other women here ," she continues. " They should see this, understand the history. It might help them make their own choices about bonding, if that's what it comes to ."
Kol stiffens slightly. " The Hall of Knowing is sacred. Few are permitted to enter ."
" If you truly believe we're your Daughters returned ," Jah-kee projects, her voice firm despite her respectful tone, " then this is our history too. We have a right to know it ."
A tense silence falls. Then, unexpectedly, Kol's mental voice fills the mindspace with what can only be described as a laugh—rich, deep, and genuinely amused.
" You speak like a Daughter ," he projects, satisfaction evident in his tone. " Commanding even to clan leaders ."
Jah-kee blinks, clearly not expecting this reaction.
" The females may come ," Kol projects. " In small groups. With proper reverence ."
" Thank you ," Jah-kee projects, relief evident. " I promise they'll be respectful ."
As we prepare to leave the Hall, Jah-kee lingers by the carving, her fingers hovering over the Drakav lying broken in the stone.
"Three thousand years," she murmurs. " You've been waiting three thousand years for the Daughters to return ."
" Yes ," Kol projects simply.
She turns to look at him, her expression softer now. " That's a long time to keep faith ."
Kol regards Jah-kee for a long moment, his glow steady and warm in the dim chamber. When he finally speaks, his mental voice resonates with quiet strength.
" A hunter does not count the sols he waits in the dust ," he projects. " He is judged only by the hunger that drives him through the dark. Our hunger for their return has never faded ."
Jah-kee’s lips part slightly. She doesn’t reply, simply nodding in acknowledgment.
Kol dips his head in return, a gesture of mutual respect that seems to bridge the vast gulf between us. Then he steps aside, motioning for us to leave the Hall.
As we ascend the winding steps, the air grows warmer the closer we get to the main cavern, but my thoughts remain heavy, anchored in the Hall and the revelations we unearthed within it.
Ahead of me, Jah-kee walks with sure steps, her small fingers brushing the stone wall to steady herself. Her resilience is unmistakable—her fire, her strength. She commands even Kol, a clan leader, as though she were born to it.
But as I watch her, a strange thought curls in the back of my mind.
The Daughters made us to adapt. To survive. To be compatible.
The thought twists through me, vivid and unsettling. My mind flashes to the Giving Stones, the way they crack open to reveal new life.
I clench my claws.
No. Jah-kee is strong, but she is not stone. She would not— could not —split open like that.
She glances back at me as we near the top of the steps, her expression curious. " You okay, big guy ?"
I nod once, forcing my thoughts to quiet. " Yes ," I project, keeping the thought steady.
She flashes me a small, teasing smile. " Good. Because we still have a lot of work to do ."
I say nothing, but as we step into the main cavern, my gaze lingers on her.
My Jah-kee. Strong, fierce, unyielding.
Still, one thought refuses to leave me:
If she ever cracked open like a Giving Stone, I’d lose my mind completely.