Page 1

Artek

The woods were a blur around me as I wound my way down the mountain flank, back in the direction of home. My scales shivered restlessly along my spine, and a pull in my gut urged me to greater speed. Something was about to happen, something huge and momentous. I could feel it in my bones.

A niggle at the back of my mind also urged me to be honest with myself.

This was as much about getting home to Zap—who’d recently had a nest of young—as it was about getting away from the noisiness of a camp full of humans and Naga.

I simply couldn’t handle that much company for so long.

The flesh beneath my scales felt raw, my scales might as well have been thin as paper, and my head still buzzed with all their voices.

Vera certainly couldn’t help it—heavily pregnant and constantly nauseous—but her weary complaints had gotten to me as well.

I’d stayed as long as I could, but with Corin back, and a more than adequate healer himself, I couldn’t last any longer.

I bared my fangs to the world as that thought filled me with a sense of failure.

I pushed it away the next moment; it was a useless feeling, and not truthful either.

I was a Shaman. I’d never been meant to live in a village or camp, and I shouldn’t want to twist myself into a shape that didn’t fit.

Zap was probably going to be mildly indifferent, at best, to my return, too busy with her younglings.

But my home and experiments were waiting for me, calling to me.

I’d bury myself in work and pretend that, even when desperate for a bit of peace and quiet, I was lonely.

If I needed a conversation, I could call on any number of other Shamans around the world or speak with my teachers at the Sacred Training Grounds.

The feeling of urgency was only growing stronger; something had its claws in me in a way it never had before.

I was not like the other males, not like Zathar, former Prince of Thunder Rock.

Not like Iave, with his huge size and brute strength.

Not like any of the hunters who had made Haven their home in recent times.

It felt like another failure today, to not be as skilled a fighter, as masculine a male, as each of them strove to be.

My gaze dipped from the lush purple mountain flank ahead of me to the rings of gold that circled my fingers.

The blue sash of fluttering Water Weaver silk I wore around my hips.

A style of dress I’d adopted during my days at the Training Grounds as a youngling, chosen to mimic my mentor.

I could not fathom being without it; it felt too much like I was naked, rudely exposing myself to all those around me.

Yet it was completely normal for the other males to wear absolutely nothing but their weapons.

Shaking myself out of the spiraling thoughts, I firmed my resolve to return home as fast as possible. Some time spent by myself, where I belonged, would help settle my frazzled senses. It would remind me that I was exactly who I was supposed to be. I hoped.

A sound drew my attention then, sharp, whining, screaming.

I paused, tilted my head back, and caught sight of a skyship as it came barreling through the skies at breakneck speeds.

It was a big one, the type of ship that rivaled the one warship still functional at the Sacred Training Grounds.

Probably one of the larger vessels that Serant’s dangerous atmosphere had managed to pull down.

Our world was naturally surrounded by an electromagnetic field that made flying all but impossible.

I watched its progress through the sky with a kind of detached observation, having seen many a vessel come to a fiery death on Serant’s unforgiving surface.

But this was different. It was close enough that I imagined I could feel the heat from its path on my face.

It also wasn’t going nearly as fast as those unfortunate ships usually did.

My eyes grew wider. Did that mean—? Oh, it might.

I hurried to resume my path down the mountain flank, cursing the distance between Haven and my home.

At my speed, I was at least a day away from the newly formed camp of humans and Naga, but several days out from my home.

I had no way to contact any of the other Shaman until I reached either location.

Glancing over my shoulder only once reaffirmed my choice to persevere with my current direction.

I wasn’t going back to Haven, not for any gold in the world.

The ship was crashing, too slow to break apart, too slow to burn to pieces like most others did.

Like Vera and her ilk, who had survived their crash to our planet, this ship was going to make it.

At least some of those aboard were going to survive.

My mind flickered with all the probabilities, with what that might mean.

Was the EM field weakening? Had something changed in the atmosphere?

Or had something bigger shifted out in the grand universe, beyond the stars?

Then my mind leaped to an even more exciting thought: What if that ship had humans aboard it too?

What if that ship carried my mate with it?

I shook off the thought as a selfish one, one I shouldn’t even entertain for a second.

While a Shaman was allowed a mate—though many of my Shaman brethren never did—I should be thinking of the others first. Especially the lonely, now-without-hope outcast hunters who had joined Haven.

Males who had never found their mates among their own Clan and had hoped to be lucky enough to be paired with one of the few humans.

Only, all humans had officially paired up now, all except the one male human, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t be the case for much longer, either.

The ship was coming down deep beyond Thunder Rock territory, on the border with the next Clan and Clanless land, much of which lay beyond it.

As I watched, a tiny piece seemed to fracture away from the ship, and another, and another.

They blazed like stars across the sky, falling into the forest below me, plummeting in the path of the ship.

I winced when it appeared that one piece might have struck near the Thunder Rock village I could see glittering in the distance.

The closest fallen piece of debris was between me and my home, though, and it would merit investigation. Even if that part wouldn’t hold survivors, it could tell me whether the ship held humans or not, and that was very much worth knowing.

Increasing my pace, I forgot about rings and sashes, about being a hunter or a Shaman.

I focused only on the thrill of discovery, and every part of me lit up with excitement.

As I moved through the underbrush, body crashing gracelessly, tail moving with tireless strength, I could not lie to myself.

This was about hope, too: hope that what I’d learn would lead me to a female just for me.

I was tired of being alone, even if having a whole Clan around me for weeks had driven me to the brink.

If there was a mate out there for me, she’d understand my need for solitude, wouldn’t she? I only slowed a little as I contemplated that, but in the end, I didn’t know what would happen should a mating impulse strike me. There was no use wondering about what-ifs; about the future.

Then I reached the path of fallen trees and smoldering fire, and saw the piece of blackened hull that rose from the ground like an accusing finger.

No text was visible on it from this side, but it appeared to be the interior side, with piping, wires, and soldered panels.

I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, though I wasn’t surprised.

Just hull? Silly to hope for one of those sleep-inducing pods, the coffins that Zathar had described pulling the humans he’d found out of.

I moved closer slowly, my scales heating against the warm trail of disturbed earth the piece of hull had dragged through the ground before settling.

Eyes wide, tongue dipping out between my lips to draw scents deep into my mouth.

Fire, ash, metal, and something else, something sweeter.

As if drawn, I moved forward around the jagged piece of metal piercing the ground, my eyes scanning each inch of the blackened surface.

The stars and the glowing embers at the base, where metal pierced the ground, gave me enough light to see by.

There were no symbols on this panel, just a fine layer of ash.

I broke a feathery branch off a nearby tree and used it as a brush, just to be sure.

Only to be rewarded with more darkened, blank metal.

If anything had ever been inscribed on it, it had burned clean off when it plummeted to Serant.

Disappointed, I sat back on my coils and cocked my head to the side, appraising it from all angles.

I’d have to travel to the ship itself to find more clues, but that would take at least a week, if I had judged the location it had landed at correctly.

The Shaman Council would have sent a scouting party by ship by tomorrow; it would be there faster.

It would make more sense if I were to head to my home and wait for answers there, much as it galled me.

With a frustrated sigh, I tossed the branch away, tightened the strap of my satchel over my chest, and resumed my journey.

Curiosity unsatisfied, the unease in my gut unabated, and my hope fully crushed, I headed off beneath the trees.

I still couldn’t help myself, searching the darkness beneath the canopy for any sign of something I might have missed: a smaller piece, maybe, that had fallen off; a few scattered belongings that might have survived.

I twisted around a large boulder, certain I’d never find anything now, and then my eyes landed on something silver.

It was jutting crookedly from behind a pile of rocks: scratched, dented, but definitely not blackened like that piece of hull, and definitely not something native to Serant.

I knew every nook and cranny of this pass, every stream and rock. This was new.

Rushing over, I discovered it wasn’t just a curved piece of metal; it was a long, oblong shape. My hands trailed over the transparent upper part, breath caught in my chest. Was this what I thought it was? Impossible, I wasn’t that lucky.

Then my eyes caught sight of a pale hand, a soft curve, tangled electrodes.

There was a scent in the air, sweet, silky.

I flicked out my tongue to catch more of it, realizing I’d been smelling it beneath the fire all along.

My cock surged in its pouch as it flushed with blood, heat coiling through my veins.

Along my body, my scales shivered, and my spine tingled.

The faintest glimmer of something moved across my chest.

It was her. I had found her.