Page 21

Nala

Artek was digging in his heels, figuratively, because he didn’t have any on account of his tail.

The man was much more stubborn than I’d expected when he yanked a fur up to my chin and pushed me back into the pillows on the sled.

“No, we’re going back to my home,” he said firmly.

His blue eyes were bright with some intense emotion that made my belly curl with heat, a very inopportune response.

I wanted to be mad at him, to make him understand that I was my own person who could make her own choices.

But the truth was, Artek knew far more about this world and his people than I did; he might be seeing dangers I knew nothing about.

“At least translate what I said to Khawla, okay? He deserves to know what he’s been missing out on while he was healing in your med bay.

” Artek narrowed his eyes at me, and though he was a little more slender than the other three, more elegant-looking, I had no doubt that he was just as lethal right now.

He was no longer touching me, but still, his sigils glowed.

I wondered if that meant he was feeling particularly possessive right now, or maybe protective was the better word.

Artek turned, giving me a glare—possibly the first time he’d looked angry with me—before settling himself squarely between me and the other three Naga.

I had been able to follow everything they said because Artek had thoughtfully updated my translator implants, but they had clearly not understood a word I said.

The azure one had appeared to be the one in charge, his scales such a pretty blue that I couldn’t help but want to compare him to a gem.

His hair was also pale, contrasting with the rest of him, but still a shade of blue, like the foam of an ocean wave.

Very pretty. The other two were also blue, but Khawla was the only one whose scales did not glimmer and reflect the light.

But now, Khawla had taken control of the situation, and the azure male appeared more than happy to fall in line.

“Nala says she wants to see the wreckage. It could tell her how many were on the skyship and where they came from,” Artek finally said.

That caught me by surprise. He could have repeated what I said but omitted the part about me wanting to see the wreckage, which was clearly what he was vehemently opposed to.

But he hadn’t, and Khawla looked thoughtful as he nodded.

“Yes, I too want to see this wreckage,” he said, and he gazed at the pieces sticking from the ground not far from the village walls.

“When did this ship crash? Are there survivors like the ones Zathar found?” Khawla turned his eyes back on me, as if he expected me to answer, or maybe he was wondering if I was part of the group Zathar found or not.

Artek hissed, but he stuck his head close to Khawla’s, and the two began whispering in hushed tones to each other.

I watched them for a moment, but then turned my attention to the other three.

The one propping up the dark, non-reflective scout master was shamelessly listening in—I couldn’t blame him.

The other two had bent closer, as if they wanted to hear as well but weren’t quite rude enough to approach.

The azure one, who reminded me vaguely of the similarly colored individual that had visited with the dragon—had his eyes on me, though.

I had the feeling that one was too smart for his own good and likely to get in trouble because of it.

Abruptly, he cut into the conversation Artek and Khawla were having.

“We will protect her, Shaman. The human can safely visit.” There was a laden silence as both males raised their heads and pierced this brazen guy with a stare.

I hid a smile behind my hand at the disgruntled look on Artek’s face.

He knew I’d heard that, and he probably knew I would be the one to dig in my heels now.

What could he say? I’d been promised protection, was he going to offend the males he clearly knew well by distrusting that?

“It’s not you I’m worried about, Reshar,” Artek said eventually, but he was already moving back to my side, his hands running over the side of the hovering sled.

A panel popped free, and he pulled a laser pistol from its confines.

“It’s the females, you understand? They will not tolerate any rivals. Especially now.”

Reshar’s sharp eyes focused on the gun, cunning as a fox.

He’d recognized that weapon, and his fingers now tightened around his primitive spear, well aware that he was no match against that.

I was surprised to see the weapon too, but I shouldn’t have been.

Artek had piles upon piles of relics from the past stored in his home, I’d seen that yesterday morning. Perhaps he even had a working shuttle.

“Your mate is not a rival,” Reshar said firmly, flicking his fingers in my direction before pointing at the only recently dimming glow of Artek’s mating marks.

“My brother, you have never drawn the interest of a Naga female in your life; they will not see your human as a threat.” Ouch, that sounded mean, but his expression grew cheerful.

“I am happy for you, Artek. We will guard her even against our females, but I guarantee you it is not necessary.”

He shot the other two a look, and they quickly nodded, agreeing with him.

Artek looked resigned when he nodded, his hand finding the edge of the sled as he turned it—and me—in the right direction.

“A short visit. I want to be back home before nightfall.” I agreed; the others did too. And then we were off, slowly.

As we walked, this Reshar and his friend flanked the sled, coming as close to me as Artek was going to allow.

They studied me, but not in a mean way, just curious.

Artek spoke to Khawla as they moved, pulling out a satchel that the male propping Khawla up took.

Whispering instructions for his healing, pointing at jars of medication and clean bandages tucked inside the bag.

Revised text: Shouts went up when he broke the cover of the trees, eager sounds of greeting from near the gate into town.

I saw figures hurrying away inside, but our party, including Khawla, turned toward the wreckage guarded by more blue Naga males.

I had yet to see any of the females they were all so worried about, and none made an appearance as we passed the gate and moved uphill.

I could hear the sounds of some kind of combat coming from behind the walls, but it continued on as if the combatants did not care about us.

Everyone here was blue, and I was beginning to wonder if these Naga shaped themselves into Clans by the color of their scales.

I still recalled the visitors with the dragon, though, the ones from Haven.

There had been blue males, but a gold one and a red one, too.

How did this work? And Artek was a pearly white.

The males on the hill beside the silver wreckage called out greetings, but they seemed too polite to ask about my presence.

More curious stares were aimed my way when Artek helped me from the sled again, his sigils glowing, as the two of us toured the piece of the ship.

Definitely a cargo hatch and a sensor array.

I doubted the crashed ship had functioning communications, based on this.

I hesitated over some of the still-blinking panels, wondering if I could get them to work.

I was no technician or engineer, though—this was beyond my scope—but Artek’s tablet might be able to do a readout.

He offered it to me when we asked, and we stuck our heads together, discussing how to retrieve the data on it.

I was only distracted once when I heard childish shouts go up and the laughter of a young child.

Someone had brought the kids Khawla had been so desperate to see.

He was curled low to the ground, all his dark, bluish-purple coils spread across it, and three young Naga were in his arms. All of them in varying shades of blue but sharing the same distinct amethyst eyes as their father.

Fascinated by the sight of Naga children, I watched for a moment to see how their reunion went.

They were all smiles at first, then solemn when their father told them about the death of their mother.

It seemed odd that they simply nodded, taking the news stoically, before demanding answers about their father’s bandaged face—as if they did not care much about their mother, as if it were the death of a stranger.

I thought that, once here, Artek would linger, his curiosity piqued the way mine was.

But even with the promise of protection and the complete absence of the females he worried about, he was rushed.

Once we had the data, he was calling out greetings in parting and urging me back to the sled.

It made our promised guard, Reshar, laugh with open mirth.

Khawla did not even say goodbye, focused entirely on his family.

It was actually making me a little emotional to see that fatherly devotion on his stern face.

Back in the small floating vehicle, I clutched the tablet in my lap, but for now did not start processing the data.

I was going to take in every moment of this town and the primitive blue Naga that inhabited it before I lost my chance.

They were fascinating, and some of them were equally curious about me.

Reshar was one of them, following beside the sled as we headed back into the forest—spear in hand, as if he were taking his job as guard very seriously.

But I wondered if he wasn’t just following his own agenda.