Chapter 14
Levant
Five days into our journey aboard the Digmaster, as Auby called it, we finally finished analyzing the data on Felicia’s black box.
A black box was actually a flight recorder; Naga vessels were all equipped with something similar.
The data on the Future’s recorder only confirmed what we already knew.
Her ship had crashed into Serant a thousand years ago and caused the axis of the planet to shift by a few degrees.
With the distinction that her Faster-Than-Light drive, as she called it, had caused the ship to materialize essentially inside the planet.
The very edge of it, but too deep into the planet to be safe.
For centuries, that engine had only emitted power faintly, but in the past two dozen years, it had begun to power up at intervals, falling back on what Felicia called emergency programming to send the ship back home.
Except, buried under ice and snow, its heat vents had been blocked, and the ship kept overheating.
The engine kept shutting off each time that happened, and the cycle between starting and shutting off kept getting shorter.
“I don’t think it’s ever going to be able to leave the planet,” Felicia said as we stared at the data on my datapad.
It was in her language, and it had taken me some time to create the right interface between her flight recorder and my tablet.
She had said, I want you to stay, stay with me, when we had sex, when we mated and I seeded her.
She said it each time we came together that way ever since, proving that the mating bond was not a one-sided thing between a human and her Naga male.
She felt the same intense things I felt for her, but even though we’d bound ourselves together intimately, I knew she was not yet truly mine.
Part of her still lived on her ship, in the past, as much as she tried to push that away.
“No,” I agreed. “Even if we dig it out with the Digmaster, the engine is still too unstable to use. You would never make it.” Her eyes locked on my face, and I imagined they said something like, We’d never make it, or I’m not leaving anyway. She bit her lip, and no such words came out.
“Fine, it’s shut down now. We can deal with this later.
Tell me what you found out about our current heading.
I know you were up late again after I fell asleep last night.
” She patted the side of my chin gently, but there was censure in her tone.
She did not like that I pushed myself so hard and slept so little, but how else was I going to get everything done that needed to be done?
There were so many tasks to juggle, like studying the Revenant, studying Auby, and analyzing the data from her flight recorder.
Those were tasks big enough for three males together, and I was only one.
She tucked herself into my lap where I sat, coiled in front of the controls.
She tapped one of the small screens where the energy lock was displayed.
“That’s an energy signature similar to my ship, right?
Is it another ship? What do you think it is?
” We had puzzled over it several times already, and the only answer I could come up with was the fisheries at Serqethos.
There was nothing but desert for miles and miles in any direction.
A large lake was right near the energy signature, and that lake was the food source for the entire Serqethos Clan and their dragons.
An ancient Naga city also lay partially buried beneath the sand there, and it had to be this location that was the source of the signature.
“Not a ship,” I said firmly. That, at least, I was certain of.
“Let me see if I can reach the current Serqethos Shaman again, now that the Digmaster has taken us above ground.” I had worked hard that first night to fix the outgoing array, but nothing I had done had helped increase the output.
Above ground, however, it should work just fine, and that was what I was counting on now.
We’d received word from Artek that Khawla, his human, Jolene, and his younglings had been rescued during one such stretch above ground a few days ago.
So I knew it worked then, even if the Digmaster caused its own kind of interference, being a massive hunk of metal and all.
I reached for my communicator and curled my arms around Felicia so we could both hunker down over it as I pressed the Shaman’s contact.
Auby, perched on the console, leaned in from the other side.
We must have made a weird image when Kaylass answered.
Three very different heads peering at him from various angles.
“Levant, what is it?” the older Shaman asked.
His brown scales were already growing dull with age around the corners of his eyes, giving him a pinched look.
I did not know Kaylass all that well, but I had spoken with him at length when transferring my Serqethos duties to him.
He looked worn, older, and even less rested than I did.
“The Council might have already informed you, but we are headed in your direction aboard a Revenant. I wanted to ask if you’ve had any unusual readings in the ancient city.
The Revenant has locked onto an energy signature there.
” I had wracked my brain for days to see if I could recall anything unusual myself, but I had come up with nothing.
Once I had the time, I was going to map out all the ruins; it was very remiss of us not to have done so yet.
I thought Kaylass, of all Shamans, would be most interested in what I had to say, but he shrugged and shook his head.
His eyes pinched as he denied any such readings.
Kayless was one of our most learned historians, especially when it came to one of the ancient mountain cities to the west, far beyond Serqethos—further still beyond Ahoshaga.
Most of his life, he’d spent inside ruins, often alone, sometimes with apprentices.
I thought he’d have been all over Serqethos’ ancient city.
“If you have nothing else, I must return to my duties, Levant,” he said, and I was certain he would have disconnected if I hadn’t shouted, “Wait!”
Kaylass was famous for his curiosity, much like I was, so why hadn’t he asked a single question?
Something was not right, not right at all.
I knew I’d left Serqethos and the Clan was technically not in my care any longer, but I loved them.
Loved each gold-scaled, stubborn dragon rider, and every soft-hearted Naga female who lived there.
The great exception to any other Clan on the planet.
“What’s going on, Kaylass?” I asked. I hoped fervently that the male was just so immersed in his studies that he had no time for questions from a younger Shaman.
That hope was dashed the moment I saw the tired, worried look in the older Shaman’s eyes.
Now the paleness made sense, as did the pinched look of his brow.
“The fisheries have failed,” Kaylass said.
“Your people are starving.” What? I blinked, unable to fully comprehend the awful news he’d just delivered.
He disconnected the call before I could pry further, and he was right to do so, because what help could I be, anyway?
I’d never entered the fisheries we knew were there; none of us had.
They had always worked, endlessly refilling the lake with fish to feed not just a Clan, but the ravenous appetite of the dragons that lived in harmony with us.
The ruin divers had seen some, but most never went deep, and went less deep with each year.
We’d focused on the mine instead. That, I knew like the back of my hand.
I swore, furious with myself for having been so complacent about something so important.
It was technology; it was bound to fail one day, and it seemed that day had come. When had it happened? How bad was it?
“That didn’t sound good, Levant,” Felicia said.
“Do you… do you need to be there? With them? I know you told me Serqethos was the Clan you’ve lived with the longest. That’s kind of your home, isn’t it?
You must know everyone there.” I leaned into the way she brushed her fingers through my hair as she offered comfort.
I’d done that each night for her, and I had never realized how good it felt to be on the receiving end.
Felicia was offering me something I had never considered a female could offer in return.
That was, perhaps, very blind of me, considering how sweet and soft the Serqethos females were compared to those of the other Clans.
Since meeting Felicia, all I’d done was push myself aside so I could see to her needs.
This terrible news lifted blinders I didn’t know I’d worn.
She was willing to do the same for me. A true mate, fated, and not one-sided like the bonds most Naga males experienced.
No, Felicia was fully capable of being strong for me when I needed her, of offering her empathy and care.
“Very bad,” I said to her. “Serqethos is a desert. The only food source is the fish in the lake. If the lake has emptied…” My thoughts turned inward as I pictured what was going on at the camp: how Alshara would bravely try to keep everyone together, a young Queen with a far too kind heart; how Arakash would steadily try to be her counsel.
Perhaps Zsandex would have taken all the dragon riders away, to the mountains where herds of Vakarsa might see to their needs.
It might not be enough, the journey too far to be effective.
If the fisheries could not be fixed, the entire Clan might have to relocate.
“Auby,” Felicia said over the buzzing in my ears.
“I know your knowledge of the Digmaster is limited, but you don’t happen to know if we can go faster with this thing, do you?
From the sounds of it, we don’t have three days to get there.
We need to get there now.” Oh, yes, that was a good idea.
We were already en route; if we could increase the speed of the Revenant, we might reach Serqethos sooner and offer help.
Then Felicia leaped to the next clever idea as she thought out loud.
“Do you think the energy signature the Burrower has locked onto has something to do with those failing fisheries? I mean, a failing engine… it could be similar, could it not?” What her ship’s engine did, attempting to launch a vessel at Faster-Than-Light speeds through space—was very different.
She was also right: a failing engine could still create a certain interference in Serant’s EM field, and that was what the Digmaster searched for.
“I agree, Felicia,” Auby said. “It could very well be the fisheries of Serqethos. The Digmaster’s records show it has headed this way each time your engine failed, but was called back once your engine started back up.
If so, the fisheries must have been failing for a long time.
” Then he said something that eased the wave of guilt, or at least shoved it aside for now. “I believe we can increase our speed.”