Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The next morning came grey and cold, the way mornings often did in the mountains. Polly woke slowly, warm beneath the furs, and for a long moment she simply lay there, watching Njkall sleep.
He looked younger in sleep. The constant watchfulness relaxed from his face, the weight of leadership lifted.
She could see the faint lines around his eyes, the silver threads just beginning to show in his white fur, and she thought, This is what trust looks like.
Letting someone see you when you’re unguarded.
She slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake him, and padded to the entrance of their quarters. The main cavern was already stirring. She could hear Cera’s voice somewhere in the distance, and the clatter of the morning meal being prepared.
She was halfway through braiding her hair when the door chimes sounded and Baralt appeared at the entrance.
The massive white-furred Hothian ducked under the stone archway, his fangs catching the light as he offered her a brief nod.
Despite his size—and he was enormous even by Hothian standards—she had never been afraid of him.
There was something in his manner that reminded her of Njkall, a contained violence held in check by absolute control.
“I need to speak with Njkall,” he said.
“He’s still sleeping. Is something wrong?”
Baralt’s expression shifted, something that might have been amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “Nothing wrong. Good news, actually, for Tess.”
Her heart lifted. “You found transport?”
“A trade vessel leaving for Sherae in three days. The captain is known to me—she’s reliable, honest, and not likely to sell her to the first slaver who offers credits.
” He paused. “I’ve arranged passage. She’ll have her own cabin, and I’ve sent a message to Athtar’s mate Faith to let her know she’ll be coming. ”
The information landed in a strange way. Good news—wonderful news—and yet she felt the sudden vertigo of change rushing towards her. Tess had been her responsibility. What happened when that responsibility walked away?
“Three days,” she said. “That’s… that’s fast.”
“The vessel won’t return to this sector for months. It’s the best opportunity.”
“No, I know. I know.” She shook her head, pushing past the selfish flutter of panic. “That’s wonderful. Tess will be so relieved. I’ll tell her.”
Baralt nodded. “I’ll return later to discuss the details with Njkall.” He paused at the entrance, glancing back over his shoulder. “It was well done, what you did for her. Isabel said to tell you.”
Before she could respond, he was gone.
She stood for a moment, collecting herself. Three days. Three days and Tess would be on a ship to Sherae—warm Sherae, with its wide oceans and its laws against slavery and its promise of a fresh start. It was everything Tess had wanted. Everything she’d been working toward.
So why does it feel like losing something?
She pushed the thought aside and went to find her friend.
Tess was in the healer’s cave, picking at a breakfast she clearly had no appetite for. She looked up when Polly entered, wariness flickering across her face—the constant, exhausting wariness that colored everything Tess did.
“You’re early,” Tess said.
“Baralt came by.” She settled onto the furs next to her, keeping her voice gentle. “He’s found you transport. A trade vessel to Sherae. It leaves in three days.”
Tess went very still.
For a long moment she didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Her hands had frozen around the cup she was holding, and Polly could see the whites of her knuckles.
“Three days,” Tess repeated.
“Baralt says the captain is trustworthy.” She reached out, hesitated, then touched Tess’s arm lightly. “It’s what you wanted. A warm place. A fresh start. No more snow.”
“No more snow.” Tess laughed, a thin and brittle sound. “I’ve been dreaming about it. Sitting in the sun. Not being able to see my own breath.” She looked down at her hands. “I thought I’d feel… I don’t know. Happier.”
“Leaving is always hard.”
Tess’s eyes flicked to her face. “You sound like you know.”
“I do.” She thought of Earth—distant Earth, blue and impossible and utterly lost to her.
She’d never see it again. She’d made her peace with that, mostly, but the ache of it still surfaced at odd moments.
“I used to dream about going home. Going back to before any of this happened. I’d wake up in the mines and think, today.
Today I’ll find a way. It was the only thing that kept me moving. ”
“What happened?”
“I realized there was no before anymore. Not for me.” She met Tess’s gaze. “So I had to find something else. Somewhere else.”
“And you found the giant furry alien.”
Despite everything, she smiled. “He found me, actually. He walked onto the ship that carried me away from the mines and something in me, just… settled.” She shrugged. “It’s been that way ever since.”
Tess studied her for a long moment. “You really love him.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re not afraid?”
“I’m terrified.” The admission came easily now, after last night. “But I stay anyway. Because the fear doesn’t get to decide. I do.”
Something shifted in Tess’s expression—a softening, or maybe just the exhaustion of constantly holding everything at arm’s length. She set down her cup and wrapped her arms around herself, and when she spoke again her voice was small and uncertain.
“What if Sherae is worse?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know what Sherae will be like but I know it’s not a ship.
It’s not a mine. It’s not a cage. And I know you’ll have choices there.
Choices that are yours to make.” She thought of Njkall, and all the doors he’d built for her.
“That’s the only thing anyone can give you, really. The rest is up to you.”
Tess nodded slowly. The wariness hadn’t left her face entirely—she suspected it never would, not completely—but there was something else underneath it now. Something that looked more like determination.
“Three days,” Tess said again. “I’ll need supplies. Clothes for warm weather. I don’t have anything that isn’t for this frozen hellscape.”
“Then we’ll get you some.”
She glanced at the stack of ship records they’d been working through.
They had eliminated dozens of vessels since their visit to Port Eyeja, but there were still too many possibilities.
Tess’s memories came in fragments—a hull marking here, a glimpse of an insignia there—and every time they thought they had narrowed the search, another possibility opened up.
“And we still have three days to work on these.”
Tess grimaced. “I was hoping you’d forgotten.”
“Not a chance. If you’re going out into the Empire, I want you to know exactly what you’re staying away from.”
“Bossy.”
“I’ve been spending too much time with Njkall.” She hesitated, then added, “And if we haven’t found an answer by the time you leave, I’ll keep working on them afterwards.”
When she returned to their quarters, Njkall was awake.
He was standing by the fire, dressed and alert, a cup of tea cradled in his massive hands. He looked up as she entered, and something in his expression made her pause.
“Baralt came back,” he said. “I know about the transport.”
“Oh.” She crossed to him, accepting the cup of tea he offered. “Then you know it’s good news.”
“I do.” He watched her face with that quiet, searching attention she’d come to know so well. “I expected you to be… upset.”
“Why?”
“Tess has been your responsibility. You’ve spent all this time helping her and now she’s leaving.” He tilted his head. “Most people would feel the loss.”
She considered this. She did feel a twinge of sadness, but it wasn’t what she’d expected either. She’d thought she would feel bereft. Instead she felt… proud. And maybe a little relieved.
“She’s choosing to leave,” she said slowly.
“That’s different from being taken. She’s not running away from something—she’s going towards something.
Somewhere warm, somewhere safe, somewhere she can start over.
” She took a sip of tea, letting the warmth spread through her.
“I’m happy for her, Njkall. I really am. ”
He was quiet for a long moment, studying her with an expression she couldn’t quite read. “And you’re choosing to stay.”
“What?”
“Tess is choosing to leave. And you…” Something raw flickered across his face. “You’re choosing to remain.”
Her throat tightened.
“Every day,” she said.
His expression softened. “I think I’m finally beginning to understand.”
She rose on her toes and kissed his jaw. “About time.”
They took the sleigh to Port Eyeja that afternoon—all three of them, because Tess needed supplies and she needed to prove to herself that she could keep making this journey without falling apart.
The trip was easier than before. The cold still bit at her cheeks, and the vast white emptiness of the mountains still made her feel small and exposed, but the panic that had gripped her on her previous visit stayed at bay.
She sat pressed against Njkall’s side, one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, and let herself watch the world slide past.
Tess sat across from them, stiff and silent, her hands clenched in her lap.
She spent most of the journey staring out at the snow with an expression that made Polly’s heart ache.
She’s leaving, she reminded herself. She’s finally getting what she wanted.
But the rigid set of Tess’s shoulders told a different story.
Port Eyeja materialized out of the grey, its stone buildings and snow-covered roofs already becoming familiar, along with the braziers along the main streets, the clusters of traders near the landing field, and the warm glow of Baralt and Izzie’s home.
The market was packed with people, their varied shapes and colors a kaleidoscope of alien species that would have sent her running a year ago. Now she wove through them with something like ease, keeping close to Njkall, her hand tucked into his.
“Warm-weather clothes first,” she said to Tess. “Izzie says there’s a trader near the east end who deals in offworld fabrics. Some of it’s actually comfortable.”
Tess nodded, though her eyes were darting everywhere—tracking every movement, cataloguing every potential threat. Polly recognized the behavior. She’d done the same thing, once.
They spent an hour in the clothing stalls, sorting through fabrics and arguing about colors. Tess gravitated towards dark, practical things—loose tunics, sturdy trousers, everything designed to make her invisible. Polly gently nudged her towards something softer.
“You’re going somewhere warm,” she said. “You might as well not sweat to death.”
“I don’t want to stand out.”
“You’re human. On an ocean planet full of non-humans. You’re going to stand out no matter what you wear.” She held up a tunic in soft blue. “At least stand out in something pretty.”
Tess made a face, but she took the tunic.
They were on their way to the next stall when it happened.
Tess suddenly went rigid beside her, and Polly heard the sudden sharp intake of breath and felt the way every muscle in her friend’s body locked tight.
At first she thought the other woman had spotted another ship marking.
They’d spent so many hours poring over manifests and identification records that she had started seeing registration symbols everywhere herself.
Then she saw Tess’s face.
It wasn’t recognition. It was terror.
She turned, following Tess’s gaze, and saw nothing. Just the usual crowd of traders and visitors. Two Hothian males haggling over preserved meat. A Tajiri female examining jewelry. A cluster of species she didn’t recognize gathered near a food stall.
“Tess?” She kept her voice low. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” Tess’s face had gone paper-white. “It’s nothing. I just… I thought I saw—” She shook her head in a jerky, unnatural motion. “Can we go? Please?”
Njkall materialized at Polly’s side, his massive frame blocking them from view. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” She was already guiding Tess towards the quieter side streets. “Tess, talk to me. What did you see?”
“Nothing.” Tess’s voice had gone flat and strange. “I told you. It was nothing. I’m just tired. I want to go back.”
She wouldn’t say anything else. Not during the long walk to retrieve the sleigh, not during the silent journey back through the mountains, not when they finally reached the caves and she fled to the healer’s cave without a backward glance.
“She saw something,” Polly said quietly, watching her go.
Njkall’s hand rested warm on her shoulder. “She did.”
“Something from before. From the ship.”
“Most likely.”
“But she won’t talk about it.”
“No.”
She turned to look up at him. “Should we tell Baralt?”
“Yes. I’ll tell Baralt she may have recognized someone. He doesn’t need to question her if she doesn’t want to be questioned, but he can increase the watch.”
She nodded, but the unease stayed with her through dinner, through the quiet evening in their quarters, through the long hours of the night when she lay awake listening to Njkall breathe.
Tess had seen something. Something that terrified her more than anything else in Port Eyeja.
What could be worse than everything she’s already survived?
Unable to sleep, she rose before dawn, but when she went to the healer’s cave, she found it empty.
Tess’s things were gone—the warm-weather clothes they’d bought, the small bag of personal items she’d accumulated, the rough blanket she’d refused to part with. The furs where she slept were still there.
She’d left sometime in the night. Alone. Without a word.
Polly stood in the empty space, her heart pounding.
She ran, she thought. But what is she running from?