46. Rani
46
RANI
W e’re almost to the surface, herding the last stragglers along. We haven’t spoken much and what we have said has been nothing of import. It seems the Al’fa and I are both in our own heads. Lost in our own thoughts.
The Shaman is dead, but so is my city. The one thing I had hoped to reclaim has been taken. Without it, what remains of me? And what am I doing, walking side by side with the Zmaj Al’fa?
Exhaustion mingles with relief and a weariness that weighs on my heart and soul. All the while the Al’fa has remained close.
The Al’fa, the Queen, titles but those are not who we are, they are personas we take on. Roles we fulfill. I’ve seen past his mask. Seen the man that fills the role and good or bad, I like what I saw.
I have to admit that it helps the way he continuously darts glances at me. Appraising, but also appreciative. I feel certain that he’s having the same doubts I am. What we’re considering should be impossible. A never thing. Something that no one would or even should ever consider.
Yet here we are.
The memory of his lips on mine lingers, leaving a tingling warmth I can’t shake.
There is a light ahead. Brilliant, almost blinding. It hurts my eyes, it’s so intense. I hesitate, coming to a stop. Janara looks over his shoulder, but I nod that he should continue. The people stream past while I take a moment. The Al’fa remains at my side.
“How long?” he asks, knowing the right question because somehow, impossible as it should be, he knows me. He seems to recognize what is happening in my head.
“Once,” I say. “When I was very young. My father had me escorted to the surface.”
“Mine too,” he says, reaching over and claiming my hand.
I like his hand. Despite the heat rising from behind us and the warmth of the twin suns ahead, his hand is cool to the touch. Cool and comforting. He squeezes and I return the gesture.
“I sat on a cliff, staring across the rolling desert. Watched the suns rise and as they rose I recited the story. Of how we Urr’ki, the First Born, were driven from the surface of Tajss. We gave it to the Zmaj in an effort to find peace. Letting them have it so that we could stop the bloodshed.”
“I have not heard this tale,” he says.
Urr’ki, Zmaj, and humans move around and past us. Some cast odd glances at the two of us standing here holding hands, but what better symbol could we show them than this one?
There is one better. If she lives. I scan the crowd, heart pounding. Where is she?
Elara. Ryatuv. Z’leni. They should be here.
Of all of us, they are the true symbol. The shape of what we could be. The bright hope I believe will be strong enough to endure. But I don’t see them. And then?—
“There! There they are!”
My heart leaps. I spin around as a trio emerges from the smoke filled tunnel. They’re covered in soot, limping, all of them on the verge of collapse, but alive.
Elara. Ryatuv. Z’leni.
They support one another, propping each other up with stubborn strength. Elara’s hair is tangled and coated with ash. Her skin is streaked with grime, but she’s standing. Her gaze locks with mine through the swirling ash and noise, a line thrown across the storm.
In this moment it’s so clear. I see the future. These three represent what we can be. Three species coming together as one. Not losing ourselves in the mix, each standing proud and whole, yet united.
Their budding love, the strength they share, the pain they’ve survived has forged them into something greater. Made them into the hope they carry. I rush to meet them. I don’t think. I act.
“Elara!” I yell, and I don’t care that my voice breaks. “You stubborn, impossible creature!”
She gives me a tired smile. “Takes one to know one.”
I laugh, loud and wild.
Z’leni’s eyes are rimmed in red, but steady. Ryatuv’s jaw is clenched, his body bruised, but he is unbowed. They made it back. My heart finally settles.
I pull her tight then let her go, back into the arms of her men. She smiles, shaking her head with uncertainty.
“Thank you,” I say. “All of you. The three of you stopped the sacrifices.”
“Is he…” Elara trails off not wanting to say it out loud, but the three of them stare, anxious to hear the news.
“He is gone,” I say. “Taken by a fire worm.”
Elara blinks, her face pale and for a moment I think she is about to faint, but then she laughs. It’s a chuckle that quickly escalates into a full belly one.
Ryatuv and Z’leni look at each other over her head then they too are laughing. She wipes soot-streaked tears from her cheeks while the Al’fa and I stare, caught between wonder and disbelief.
“It’s just…” she tries to speak, but interrupts herself with more laughter. “I mean, he worshipped those things then one…” she shakes her head, but I see the irony.
“Tajss provides,” I say, smiling.
The Al’fa places his hand on the small of my back. I flinch and he pulls back, but I move into it, having reacted in surprise. I am not used to anyone touching me without express permission. I look at him and he smiles.
“It does,” he agrees, his eyes swirling with delight and dare I say…desire?
A rumble echoes through the tunnel, pulling us out of the moment.
“We are not safe yet,” I say. “We must finish the journey.”
The Al’fa and I take the lead. Holding hands while walking in silence that is now easy and comfortable. We are the last stragglers to emerge. As we do, for the first time in ages, I step out and feel the surface of Tajss beneath my feet.
The twin red suns blaze low, painting the endless dunes in blood and fire. The sky stretches wide, open, and free. I stare, stunned, then I fall to my knees, not in weakness, but in reverence. The warmth of the suns embraces me like a hug. As if Tajss is welcoming me home.
The others emerge, into the sun, blinking as their eyes adjust. Around us are cries and shouts of joy. The wind is sharp and hot, but real. We’re alive.
Zmaj stretch their wings.
Urr’ki kneel to touch the sand.
Humans lift their faces to the sky.
The Al’fa is at my side, the last warrior out. His expression is unreadable as he looks at the endless red of Tajss. Rosalind and Visidion are already there, standing together as the last waves of refugees pour from the broken earth.
“Beautiful,” he says softly.
I rise to stand at his side. Together we look the planet over. Taking it in. When his eyes land on Rosalind he stiffens and strides towards her. I stay at his side, both to support, and to keep calm. I am very aware that the alliance is now more fragile than ever. With no immediate threat, no common enemy in the Shaman, this will be its first true test.
“This evacuation,” he says to her, voice low and dangerous, “you planned it without me.”
His fists clench tighter, sand trickling between his fingers. His chest heaves.
“Because I knew you wouldn’t agree,” Rosalind cuts in, her voice unflinching.
Visidion bristles, his wings flaring, tail flicking sand.
“You risked everything?—”
“I saved everything,” Rosalind snaps. “You would’ve waited. You would’ve argued. We’d all be buried if I hadn’t acted.”
Visidion takes a step forward, but the Al’fa raises a hand.
“Do not test me, surface-dweller.”
“Do not threaten my mate,” Visidion growls, wings arching.
The air between them crackles, the hot wind swirling around taut bodies ready to spring. I step forward before the growls become fire. Raising my hands and keeping my voice strong.
“Enough.”
Both freeze.
“This is not the moment for dominance,” I say. “This is the moment for celebration of our survival.”
They glare at each other, then they look at me. Neither moves. Elara comes to stand at my side.
“We made it out because all of us played a part. That’s what matters,” Elara says, her voice hoarse but sure.
Rosalind meets the Al’fa’s eyes.
“We have food caches hidden. Temporary shelters ready to be built. I planned more than just escape.”
The Al’fa’s shoulders ease a fraction. “You’ll share it?”
“Of course, with everyone,” she says, her eyes darting pointedly to me.
The Al’fa nods. Curt. Final. I turn towards the horizon. The dunes stretch wide and red and seemingly endless. Behind me, thousands breathe free air. It is time. I lift my voice, steady and sure.
“We return to Tajss—not as conquerors, not as mere survivors, but as children of her heart. Urr’ki, Human, and Zmaj. One people, one future.”
The words ring out. Rosalind moves to stand at my side, opposite the Al’fa. Visidion is beside her. The four of us stare over the rolling red-white striated dunes towards the horizon.
The people set to work and it all comes together. The future is brighter than it ever has been.