Chapter 16
Khawla
One of the guards had silently agreed to get a message out for me, and if a communication-type device was to be found, I was confident they’d bring it.
I’d seen the looks on the faces of many, and while I did not think they’d go as far as to help me, they did not want to see my younglings die.
I was grateful to know that at least some of the hunters I’d trained with—or trained—had a sense of honor.
Normally a patient male, I found it hard today, knowing our time could be so short.
Msera might be a fool for following this Queen’s orders, but he wasn’t dumb.
He would know I’d try to escape when darkness afforded the best cover.
We couldn’t wait for him to double his guards; we had to move when he didn’t expect it—now, in broad daylight.
I checked my weapons, which they’d never confiscated from my home, made sure my boys each knew how to wield their knives, and fixed Jolene’s weird shoes.
I had probably checked the bags of supplies I’d packed over a dozen times by the time someone slipped a small, boxy metal thing under the door.
It was just a little square object with some wave lines carved along the top, and I had no clue if it was even capable of doing what I’d asked for.
I knew they existed, and I knew hunters scavenged and hid relics when they found them, often to use for barter with Water Weaver merchants, or, if it was particularly good, with the gold traders of Serqethos.
Flicking out my tongue, I analyzed scents first and could say with certainty that this particular box had last been handled by Reshar.
Him again. I hoped that was a good thing, but the male had always threaded the line of trustworthiness in a way I didn’t like—unlike his brother Zathar, now the leader of Haven, who was as straight an arrow as could be.
“What is that?” Jolene whispered as she came to stand at my side, her legs straddling one of my coils in a way that would have seemed rude, had she been anyone else.
I rather liked having my coil between her legs, though, and if my younglings weren’t on the other side of the room, I would have raised it to rub between her thighs.
“A way to call for help, I hope,” I answered, focusing on the weird square again rather than my heated thoughts.
Later, once we were safe, I’d remind my bold Jolene that she was my one true mate—that I might not have declared my loyalty from the start, but it had always been in my heart.
She certainly didn’t have any problem pressing closer and invading my personal space for a more thorough look, my denial of the bond forgotten, or perhaps not important enough in the face of things.
“Ah, that looks like it might be a comm device. Is it?” she asked.
Since I did not know what a comm was, I shrugged, and my thumb brushed along the wavy lines on the shiny surface.
That was all it took—a light flicked on inside, not like with a light source, but in a small oval shape.
All kinds of symbols were visible now—not ones with letters I could understand, but strange ones that held no meaning for me.
I tapped one at random, hoping it would work somehow.
A large symbol appeared briefly, one that looked very much like a denial, and then it was gone again.
“Hmmm, you might have a screen full of contacts there. Do you know which one to call? Where did this even come from?” Jolene said thoughtfully.
I shrugged, a sense of inadequacy crawling up my spine.
Kusha had secretly enjoyed fiddling with relics; that’s why I’d spent many a day hunting skyships with her when we were young.
But it had never drawn me, not the way it drew some of us, like Corin and Artek.
“I asked one of our guards for it. I thought if we could call Artek or Haven, they might come to help us. And if not mine, they would definitely come to help my younglings…” My gaze went from the strange relic to where the three of them were playing with what remained of the wood stack.
It appeared they’d outlined the town and the fence, and I almost wondered if they weren’t trying to hatch their own escape plan.
“Try this one. It doesn’t have that slash mark across it the others have.
I think those are disconnected, but that one might work,” Jolene said.
She hadn’t followed my line of vision but stayed focused on the relic, her dainty, clawless finger pointing at a small symbol in the corner.
She was right, it was the only one that did not appear crossed out.
I tapped it, my scales shivering uneasily along my spine.
I was not a superstitious male; I did not believe in ghosts or vengeance from our ancestors if we disturbed their peace.
This still felt… dangerous. What if it wasn’t a communication device? What if it was something else?
Gray streaked with white scattered across the tiny, oval surface.
A noise squealed—sharp but low-pitched. It did not carry far, just far enough to sting my ears.
The next moment, the image began to resolve itself, not exactly into anything recognizable, but better.
A shadowy shape that might be a head, though the silhouette was all wrong, with sharp spires rising in dark slashes to the sky and something glittering green and gold.
“He...llo, who… is this?” a voice crackled—interrupted and broken, but there was just enough for me to understand the question.
I shared a quick look with Jolene and found her smiling encouragingly at me.
She even nodded and curled her hands around mine, holding the relic to raise it in front of my face.
“I am Khawla of Thunder Rock. I need to reach Artek. Do you know Artek?” I said loudly, though careful not to speak so loudly that it would be intelligible to anyone outside.
I saw my younglings raise their heads from their plotting game to look curiously my way.
The strange image was getting a bit clearer still, becoming a Naga face with black scales and blinding white all around him.
“Khawla...signal… bad. Artek is not… What… need?” If this stranger said his name, it didn’t come across, but with more clarity in the image, I had the faintest idea who this might be.
I’d never personally met him, at least, I’d never spoken with this male.
I had, however, observed him in his camp several months ago, shortly after the skyship with Jolene first crashed on Serant.
This male was once the Shaman to the golden Serqethos Clan. What was his name again? Levant.
“We are trapped. We need help. The Queen will execute my younglings come morning,” I said, the last words I whispered, because I did not need the little ones to hear them repeated.
Ducking closer to the device, I practically inhaled it as I spoke.
I hoped that helped, because I really needed to get this message across.
Levant was not the Shaman I needed, but with younglings in danger, I was certain he’d try to reach Artek for us.
There was a lot of crackling noise, and the image of the strange, foreign shaman danced and warped.
It looked like he might have a set of horns rising from his forehead.
The only word I caught was “Human,” and then the image vanished, the relic turning back to a simple silver square with a few sinuous lines.
Human? What did that mean? I hoped Levant had caught enough of my words to understand what I needed, and how dire it was.
With a sinking feeling in my gut, I was certain he had not. We were going to be on our own.
Very well. I rose, tucking the square into a pouch at my belt, and eyed the interior of my home.
“Get ready to leave, everyone. Dress warmly.” Jolene followed my lead, shrugging into her new coat with a fur-lined collar, then rushed to help a surprisingly willing Nisha into her own coat and tail warmer.
I double-checked weapons and then set about tightening straps on backpacks and jackets until I was certain everyone was ready.
“Now what?” Jolene asked, flicking her eyes from the door to the small window at the back above my nest. I decided to head there first, certain the small window was under less strenuous guard than the door.
It was held shut by hatches to keep the cold winter air out, but used as a ventilation gap in summer.
The shutters opened from the outside, but I cut their ties with my knife, and that did the trick.
It was still light outside, but the sun was beginning to sink toward the horizon.
Snow was painted a soft violet and looked undisturbed across the roofs of my back neighbors.
I saw no sign at first of a guard and was ready to wedge myself through the tight gap first when I heard a noise—voices at the front door.
We either had to hurry or abort this first attempt.
Then it was too late. A male slipped around the corner of my home and had full view of the open hatches.
It was Imvru, and on his tail were several more males.
There was no denying that they’d seen me, but they did not raise the alarm.
From another direction, Reshar was also suddenly approaching.
I held my ground then, waiting to see what they were up to when they came to huddle around the small window.
“Good, you had the same thought we did. They’ll expect you to wait till dark,” Reshar said when he reached us.
Uncharacteristically, the male had tied his pale blue hair back for once, rather than letting the long waves fall about his shoulders.
He was wearing his hunting gear—so were the others—as if they were ready to go out, though it was far too late in the day to do so.