Chapter 17
Merrilee
"No."
The word came out as a whisper, barely audible even to my own ears. "No, that's not—he can't—there has to be another way—"
"Merrilee." Roone's small hand touched my arm, warm and solid and real. "We don't have much time. Hewes has people looking for you, headed into the wastelands. Every second we waste is a second we can't get back."
I looked up at him through the blur of tears I hadn't realized were falling, and something in his expression steadied me.
Anchored me. Roone was terrified—I saw it in every line of his small body, in the tension in his shoulders, in the way his whiskers trembled—but he was here. He'd come back to tell me. To help.
I forced myself to breathe. To focus. To think past the panic clawing at my chest.
"The comm unit," I said, my voice hoarse. "Ahrick gave me a comm unit before he sent me away. I can contact his friend Nansar. He's with the Alliance—they have ships, resources, soldiers—"
My hands were shaking violently now, tremors running through my entire body. I pressed them flat against the floor, trying to stop the trembling, trying to regain control, but it spread through my limbs like wildfire.
Ahrick was going to die.
Unless I did something.
I pushed myself to my feet, my legs unsteady beneath me, threatening to dump me back on the floor.
I crossed to the corner of the shack where I'd hidden the comm unit beneath a loose board.
My fingers fumbled with the wood, nails catching on splinters, prying it up with shaking hands.
Then I had the small device in my hands, the metal cool against my sweating palms.
It was heavier than I remembered. Or maybe that was just the weight of what I was about to do.
"Show me how to use it," I said, turning to face Roone.
This unit was older, not like the ones I'd used on the Ardeese Valout.
Those had been sleek, intuitive, with touch-responsive surfaces that practically read your mind.
This one was bulkier, with physical buttons and switches that required actual pressure to activate.
Built to survive rough handling and harsh conditions rather than impress with elegant design.
Roone hesitated, his large eyes searching my face. "Merrilee—"
"Show me." My voice came out harder now, steadier. "Please."
He climbed onto the makeshift table with surprising agility, his small claws finding purchase on the rough surface, and took the device from my trembling hands.
His small fingers moved over the controls, dancing across symbols and buttons I didn't recognize, and a moment later, a holographic display flickered to life above the unit, casting blue-white light across the dim interior of the shack.
"Press here to initiate contact," he said, pointing to a symbol that looked vaguely like a spiral within a circle. "It's already programmed with the frequency. Nansar should answer within minutes if he's near a receiver."
I took the device back carefully, my heart slamming against my ribs so hard it hurt.
"Thank you, Roone."
Roone jumped down from the table with a soft thump and moved toward the door, his steps quick and purposeful. "I'll keep watch outside. If anyone comes—if I hear anything suspicious—"
"I know."
He nodded once, sharp and decisive, and slipped outside, leaving me alone with the comm unit and the terrible weight fear crushing my chest.
I pressed the symbol with a shaking finger.
The holographic display shifted, cycling through what looked like connection protocols—streams of alien text and pulsing indicators that meant nothing to me. Then a voice crackled through the small speaker, startling me with its clarity.
"This is Nansar. Identify yourself."
The hologram flickered once, twice, then solidified into the image of an Aljani male.
He was younger than Duke Ako—maybe in his early thirties if I had to guess by human standards, though who knew how alien aging worked—with the same elegant, almost ethereal features and luminous pale skin that seemed to glow faintly even through the projection.
His eyes were a striking blue-green color, like tropical waters, and his platinum hair was pulled back in a style similar to the Duke's, though less formal, with a few strands falling loose around his face.
Those unusual eyes widened when they landed on me, his expression shifting rapidly from professional alertness to something like shock, his lips parting slightly.
"You're—" He stopped himself, his gaze sweeping over me with an intensity that made me want to step back from the hologram. "You're human."
"My name is Merrilee." My voice came out steadier than I'd expected, stronger than I felt. "Merrilee Sanchez. Ahrick gave me this unit. He said if I needed help, I should contact you."
A pause stretched between us, filled only by the faint static of the connection.
Then: "Merrilee. Are you safe right now? Where are you?"
"For now, I'm safe. I'm in a shack outside Fange City.
But Ahrick isn't safe. Ahrick is—" My voice cracked and I had to stop, had to swallow hard against the lump in my throat.
"Hewes took over Fange City. He's got Persico locked up and he's going to execute Ahrick publicly.
At dawn. Day after tomorrow. I need help. "
Another pause, longer this time. I watched Nansar's expression shift, watched him process what I'd just told him, watched something like pain flash across his features.
"Merrilee, listen to me carefully. The Alliance has ships in that sector, but the closest one is two days out at maximum speed. Even if I scrambled them right this second and they burned their engines to the breaking point—"
"They won't make it in time." My throat tightened, cutting off the rest of whatever I was going to say.
"I'm sorry." And he sounded it. Genuinely, deeply sorry, his voice heavy with regret. "If there was any way, any possible way I could get them there faster—any other way I could help."
"There is." I cut him off, my hand tightening around the comm unit until my knuckles went white. "Ahrick gave me something before he sent me away."
I pulled the Welati stone from my pocket and held it up to the holographic display, angling it so the light from the projection caught the surface. The stone shimmered with that strange inner glow, colors shifting and flowing beneath the surface like oil on water.
"A stone," I said, my voice barely above a whisper now. "He called it a Welati stone. He said it was important. That it could help."
The silence stretched even longer this time, heavy with meaning I didn't understand.
When Nansar spoke again, his voice had changed completely. Become something more serious. More careful. Almost reverent.
"He gave you the Welati stone."
"Yes. He said that the Welati would help me if I showed them this." My voice cracked again, breaking on the last word. "But I don't understand what that means."
Nansar took a visible breath, his chest rising and falling, and I saw him choose his words carefully.
"The Welati are the natives of Palaydium.
They were here long before any of us arrived, long before Fange City existed.
They're warriors, fierce and proud and utterly uncompromising, but they have a code of honor that runs deep.
When my mate Chloe crash landed on Palaydium, she was hunted by those who wanted to kill her.
The Welati found us. They gave us shelter, and eventually—friendship. The Welati elder gave us that stone."
He paused, and I heard the emotion in his voice, raw and unguarded.
"Before my mate and I left Palaydium, Chloe gave Ahrick that stone. It's a token of friendship from the Welati and not given lightly, Merrilee. They're sacred. And the Welati honor them absolutely. No exceptions."
"What do you mean, honor them?"
"It means that anyone who carries a Welati stone is under their protection. If you show them that stone, they will help you. The Welati don't break those obligations. Ever. It would be unthinkable to them."
Hope flared in my chest—bright and desperate and almost painful in its intensity.
"How do I find them? Where are they?"
"They live in the mountains north of the shack. About fifty kilometers from Fange City, in the high country where most people can't or won't go. You'll need to get there fast—is my kuda still at the shack?"
"What's a kuda?" I asked, glancing toward the door where Roone was keeping watch.
"It's a transportation animal. Her name is Starfield. I raised her from a baby. She's gentle and fast." A faint smile crossed Nansar's lips, softening his features. "Can you ride?"
I thought of my grandfather. Of summers spent on his ranch in the Texas hill country, those endless hot days learning to saddle horses and read their moods and move with them instead of against them.
I could still smell the dust and leather, feel the sun on my shoulders, and hear his patient voice teaching me everything he knew.
"If it's anything like a horse, then yes," I said, my voice stronger now. "I can ride."
A genuine smile crossed Nansar's face, reaching his unusual eyes. "My mate Chloe says Starfield is very much like your Earth horses. Similar enough that the skills translate. You should be fine."
I nodded, the decision already crystallizing in my mind. "Where exactly can I find the Welati?"
"Go north from where you are. Follow the ridge line until you see the rock formations—they look like fingers reaching into the sky, five massive pillars of stone.
You can't miss them. The Welati settlement is in the valley beyond those formations.
Show them the stone. Tell them what happened to Ahrick. They'll help you."
"And if they don't?" The question slipped out before I could stop it.
"They will." His voice was firm, without a trace of doubt. "The Welati don't break their word. And they don't abandon their own. That stone makes you one of them, Merrilee. Whether you understand it or not."
I closed my eyes, letting that sink in, letting the weight and meaning of it settle into my bones.