43. Phoebe
43
PHOEBE
M y head is pounding but there is no time to waste. The situation in the Urr’ki city is deteriorating fast. Rosalind needs to get the Zmaj to send help, now.
Vapas remains close at my side as we’re lead through the Zmaj compound. Eyes, human and Zmaj, stare as we pass through. I feel them boring into my back long after we’ve gone by.
The looks make me angry. Maybe it’s me but they seem to be filled with anger, resentment, and disbelief. Vapas is a good man. More than that, he’s my man. If they don’t like it, then fuck them. I slip my arm around his waist in defiance of all of them.
The Zmaj lead us across the packed dirt floor of the arena. Dozens of Zmaj are training which comes to a halt as we pass through. I straighten my back and hold my head higher. They can judge, but I am walking with pride next to my dragoste.
No matter my defiance, entering the tunnel that cuts off their judging eyes is a relief. Vapas squeezes me and looks at me with adoration and love that eases the sting of them. I give him a smile and it’s genuine. For him it always will be.
Rosalind’s office has an anterior room and a human woman sits behind an oversized desk next to the leather curtain that serves as a door to the office itself. She looks up as our group enters, surprise on her face.
“Phoebe?” she asks, surprising me by knowing my name.
“Yeah?”
She looks from one of us to the next, her eyes lingering on my swelling eye as she purses her lips.
“I’ll tell Rosalind,” she says without further comment.
The four of us stand in uncomfortable silence. Vapas is so tense he’s vibrating and how can I blame him? He’s still not convinced he didn’t just march to his own death. It’s not as if the welcome he received was full of warmth.
It’s less than a minute, or so it seems, before the girl comes back through the makeshift door and holds it to one side.
“She’ll see you now,” she says.
I follow the Zmaj into her office and we form into a loose line in front of her desk, but when I see her, I stumble to a stop and gasp.
“Oh!”
Rosalind is sitting, which is the first time I’ve ever seen her not on her feet and being all imposing, but that’s not what gives me pause. She has a baby in her arms. A big baby, but a baby nonetheless. It’s not just in her arms. It’s suckling at her breast, swaddled in a blanket and she is looking down, cooing to the tiny-ish thing.
Rosalind looks up and smiles. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile before. Everything is disconcerting to the point that I only now notice the hooded Zmaj who stands behind her chair on her left.
He reaches over her shoulder with both hands. She pulls the child off her breast and there is a popping sound as the seal of its lips break. The baby cries, a soft mewling sound, as she hands it to the Zmaj.
Rosalind covers herself then rises to her feet to face the four of us. And just that fast, she goes from beautiful, soft mother to the hardened steel that is the Lady General. The transformation is in every fiber of her. The lines on her face harden, the posture, even the air around her vibrates to her control.
“Tell me,” she orders, her eyes locked onto mine.
No preamble, no friendly greetings, no chit-chat. And I tell her. Everything from the moment of our capture to our harrowing escape. It pours out in a rush and without hesitation.
Rosalind only interrupts a small handful of times, asking for some clarifications. It’s odd things though, that she asks to clarify. Things I mentioned seeing in the marketplace or the way the Maulavi were treating the citizens. Things I only mentioned in passing but she latches onto and has me explain more.
When I finish, I look over at Vapas. He’s looking at me too, but in his eyes is admiration and love. He mouths ‘well done’ and smiles.
“And you… Vapas is it?” Rosalind asks.
“Yes,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Rosalind looks from him to me then back.
“Dragoste?” she asks.
I had carefully left my feelings out of the debriefing, but even that she has ascertained in some way that I can only guess at.
“Yes,” he says, nodding emphatically and then putting his arm around my waist.
“And you were sent with a message?” she asks.
I had also not said that part when I gave my story. That, I felt, was his to deliver.
“Yes. The Resistance asked me to come to you and say that they are ready. That help is needed, now, or they will not be able to stand against the Shaman. Or that is the feeling I got from them.”
Rosalind nods, pursing her lips. She whispers a curse in Common and looks over her shoulder at the Zmaj holding her baby. I realize she’s not wearing her space leathers but is dressed more like, well, a regular person. Her clothing is a little loose and comfortable looking, which makes sense but also tells me the baby coming is a very recent thing.
Rosalind leans onto the desk with both hands. Her fingers drum rapidly. Her brow furrows and she frowns. Finally she nods and straightens.
“Thank you, we will do our best,” she says.
“What does that mean?” Vapas asks taking a step forward. “My people are dying. They have lost all hope to the point they are desperate enough to ask these liz—” he cuts himself off with a growl as he looks at the Zmaj, “Zmaj for help.
They are our sworn enemies. The ones who have caused this situation in the first place with their constant aggression. How far must we fall? Is this the end of the Urr’ki, and what? You humans and the gada lizards will sit by and laugh? Celebrating our demise?”
The Zmaj on either side of us step towards him with harsh, angry hisses but Rosalind motions for them to stand back.
“Vapas, I understand your frustration,” she says, her lips tight and her face imperious. “Believe me, when I say I do.” She pauses, lifting her head and squaring her shoulders ever so slightly. “But no matter that, never speak to me that way again.”
Vapas growls and leans aggressively in. Rosalind is uncowed. She meets his glare with steel in her eyes. Any moment this is going to go completely sideways. I put my hand on Vapas shoulder.
“Dragoste,” I whisper. “She will help. She is not the enemy.”
“They are,” he spits, pointing at the Zmaj. “They did this to us.”
The Zmaj holding the baby steps forward into the light for the first time. He lowers his hood so that he can be clearly seen.
“Vapas, I am Visidion. Known as a ‘surface’ Zmaj, once the leader of a clan called the Tribe.”
“I care not for your titles,” Vapas spits.
“I imagine not,” Visidion says, unperturbed. “I tell you this for no more reason than to bring understanding.”
“And?” Vapas growls.
Visidion smiles.
“I am blessed by Tajss,” he says, “to have visions. At times. Rosalind is my mate, my treasure, my heart. I have seen that she will be the one to bring peace to Tajss. Our one hope of such lies in her hands. I ask that you, like me, put your trust in her.”
“And that trust is to extend to all the Zmaj? The ones we have warred with for more generations than I can count?” Vapas says.
“I hope so,” Visidion answers.
“Why? Why should I?” Vapas asks.
“Because the threats we face in the future are so much bigger than what has come before, it will take all of us if Tajss is to survive,” Rosalind says.
The way she says it penetrates hard. The words are threatening, but she doesn’t say them in that way. She is speaking facts. Things she knows in whatever way it is Rosalind knows things.
Vapas is breathing hard. His hands clenching and unclenching, but slowly the tension drains.
“Can you help my people?” he asks, his voice dropping until it is barely more than a whisper. “Help us be what we were?”
“Help, yes,” Rosalind says. “Restoring what you were? No. I will not promise that. Not to you, nor to the Zmaj who seem to want the same thing. None of us are going to be who or what we were. We’re going to have to be more and better than any of our races have ever been.”
My heart lifts with her words and tears fill my eyes. Rosalind looks over at her child lying in Visidion’s arms. Quiet and peacefully snuggled against his father’s chest.
I don’t think I’ve ever been consciously aware of my own womb before but seeing her looking at her child like that, I am. Very, very much aware of it as an empty ache ready to be filled. I look at Vapas and know that we will make beautiful babies together.
And we’re talking about more than our survival. We’re talking about the world we will be handing to our children. Vapas looks at me and in his eyes, I see the same thoughts.
“For our children,” I whisper.
“Dragoste,” he says, pulling me in closer.
I lay my head against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart.
“Forever,” I whisper as his arms enclose me.
“What now?” Vapas asks, over the top of my head.
“Now, I will do my part,” Rosalind says.
“The Al’fa—” one of the guard Zmaj says.
“Is my next meeting,” Rosalind cuts him off. “Give these two a room to call their own. Phoebe you know the drill. You’ll both report to the Duty Officer the day after tomorrow. Vapas you will remain available at all times for advising and debriefing.”
“I did not come to be a maid,” Vapas growls.
“No,” Rosalind agrees leaning onto the desk. “War is coming. The Shaman will be stopped. One way or another.”
And just like that, the meeting is over.