Epilogue
Khawla
It had been three days since we’d returned to Haven, victorious in our rescue of the precious females Jolene had taken under her wing.
She was a soft-hearted Kepi, taking in anyone who needed a shoulder to lean on.
Now that we were settling in as a family, I could see what a difference her presence already made to my younglings.
Nisha regularly wore her coat because she now mimicked Jolene, and Jolene was always cold.
Rasho was protective of her the same way he was of his sister, and nobody scolded him for that.
In fact, hunters—mated or not—would praise him for doing a good job.
Everyone was flourishing. Well, perhaps not everyone.
Some of the humans had a hard time settling in; others adapted.
The aspirants, outcasts from many different clans, were vying for their attention already, and that had to be overwhelming.
Zathar had rules in place about what was allowed in the quest to woo a female, but the clever males found ways around them.
Jolene had her hands full wrangling them all, but she still found plenty of time to spend with my younglings and me.
Better yet, worried as I’d been that my young would need peers, they’d found friends.
There were several younglings from Bitter Storm here who were even more eager for contact than my boys were.
Nisha had made a fast friend and absolutely doted on all the babies.
The lone adult Naga female at Haven, Sazzie, was also very popular with the kids, much to my surprise.
She’d come with her pet Ayala, Sorbet, and even Rasho would be tempted to cuddle with the black-and-white furry creature.
We were fitting in. Haven had grown rapidly, a small town full of life and laughter.
And it felt better than any home I’d ever had.
Zathar was a male I respected, and that respect was mutual.
Since I knew the territory better than anyone, he’d already drawn me into his council.
Working alongside males I’d known from Thunder Rock—like Corin and Iave—and meeting others with intriguing skills was inspiring.
The Warlord Krashe, once of Bitter Storm, was deeply involved in constructing a second ‘greenhouse’ to grow food, for example.
Sitting on a log outside the entrance to Haven’s mountain homes, I watched my younglings play a game of tag with several of the aspirant hunters.
Because of the cold, they’d made temporary homes for the hunters inside the walled-off ‘safe’ area of town, right up against a cliff wall for shelter.
Those who were trusted and had officially progressed from aspirants to full Haven members had homes inside the mountain, where mated pairs and unmated humans lived.
I’d skipped that whole process by showing up with Jolene as my mate.
It had instantly raised me to trusted status, because having a human mate meant they knew I’d never harm them. They were right.
Most of the humans were inside; some never even left their rooms except for meals.
The Naga were all busy, though—either entertaining younglings, hunting, or building.
Another smoking shed was going up, for example, right now, the dragon assisting in lifting heavy beams into place.
Zathar was sitting on the log next to me, hands scribbling on parchment with charcoal as he calculated supplies and the need for hunts to feed everyone.
Next to him on the log, one of those shiny silver boxes lay, identical to the one I’d tried to use to call for Artek.
I’d gone out to scout yesterday and supplied information on where best to hunt this time of year.
I’d played a role, but for now Zathar suggested I stay close to home to help my younglings adjust. I was more than happy with that offer, and as a bonus, I got to see Jolene whenever I felt like it—which I felt like a lot.
Just thinking of her made me crane my head around to find out where she was, tongue flicking out to search for her scent.
Somewhere inside Haven, probably comforting another distraught human.
I was very glad that Jolene was sturdier than that, but I also understood that being ripped from your home was tough.
“Yes, they call us all the time, don’t they?
” Zathar remarked casually. His head lifted, and his eyes flicked across the snow-covered hillside to where Vera was standing with his infant son in her arms. She was talking with two of the mated females and Krashe, who was towering over them as he listened to their desires for this new greenhouse dome.
He’d known exactly where his mate was the entire time, casually watching her as he worked.
“They call to us, even when we’re not mated,” Reshar huffed from where he was lying by the fire.
Too injured for much still, he’d insisted on being carried outside this morning, but his scales were pale white around his eyes, and his hair was a very uncharacteristic mess.
He was one of a handful from Thunder Rock who had been left behind by the Queen.
Some we’d patched up, and they’d insisted on returning home, but Reshar and three others had remained.
They knew they would not be welcome any longer, or perhaps they no longer wanted to be loyal to her, but to Zathar instead.
I understood that, and Reshar was Zathar’s true brother; he had more reason than most to stay.
“You’re obsessed, my friend,” I said to him, and laughed when he bared his teeth and snarled, as if I’d offended him. We all knew it was true, but at least Reshar was too injured to make a nuisance of himself right now.
“Any word from the skyship?” I asked, flicking a hand toward the communication device Zathar had next to him.
If I did not have a mate, I might have been one of the males left behind to guard the ship.
I was very relieved I did not have to be there.
Corin and his mate, Min-Ji, were in charge of the site, but at least a dozen males remained to guard it in case Thunder Rock tried again.
Both strange skycreatures also stayed there, working to fix the ship with Corin: the Dragnell, Havock, and the Kertinal spy, Bi’Thor—although Jolene still called him Thor.
As if asking about them had summoned the call, the device vibrated.
Zathar immediately snatched it up, then cursed as he fumbled to answer it.
I leaned in close, and I could see Reshar across the fire struggle to rise so he could listen in, too.
The screen flickered to life, and I was staring into Corin’s silver-blue features.
“Zathar!” he said, forgoing any sign of respect in his greeting.
“Send the dragon with reinforcements. Thunder Rock warriors spotted on the hill, and they are not alone. It appears the Queen struck a deal with Sun Fang this time.”
Zathar rose instantly, his hand going to his mouth to whistle sharply.
All across the hillside, hunters dropped what they were doing and rushed to grab already prepared gear.
I could see Zsekhet clamber onto his dragon beast to check and adjust the straps of his riding harness.
That whistle was all it took—even before it died out, the hunters were ready to climb onto the beast and set off toward the distant sky wreck to help. It was very impressive.
“They are under way,” Zathar said. “How close to finished is the ship?” Corin’s expression was grim as he shook his head, and that said it all: nowhere near close.
Not a surprise, given how dark it had been inside, with not so much as a hum of ancient power.
I’d seen the massive crack that ran along the hold where Jolene’s humans had been, too.
They couldn’t possibly have fixed that by now.
“Weeks, at least,” Corin answered, but his image abruptly warped and twisted, dancing across the screen.
His next words were gibberish, crackling and popping painfully from the tiny relic.
The image disappeared, but the silver device retained a black oval for long seconds.
No sound, no indication of anything. Zathar raised his eyes from the device to meet mine, then Reshar’s, in confusion.
Across from us, the dragon leaped into the air with the needed reinforcements on his massive golden back, winging away at top speed to provide the backup Corin had requested before the ‘call’ ended.
And then a voice came, clear and recognizable, though there was still no image.
“Zathar? Artek? Corin? Anyone?” It sounded just like the male I’d once reached in my own attempt to use one of these devices: the Shaman Levant.
“Danger,” he said next, but that had no context and was followed by a long pause.
“Found a human.” Then the small device turned silver.
I shared a look with Zathar, confused. Then, I lifted my eyes and turned to find Jolene standing just behind me.
“Was that that strange Shaman who’s stuck on the North Pole?
” she asked, and when I nodded, she came over and curled into my arms. “Did I hear that right, did he say he found a human?” That’s what it had sounded like, but that had to be impossible.
There was no way boxes from Jolene’s ship had fallen out over the Pole; it was so far away that I could not even wrap my head around the distance.
“Try to call him again,” Jolene said, but no matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t get through. It would remain a mystery—for now.
THE END