Chapter 4 #2
Baleck said something sharp, his skin flashing with bright colors.
It made me wonder if he was Cleo’s mate, but something told me he wasn’t.
For one thing, they sat on separate beds.
Cleo responded in their language, her tone reassuring despite the wariness in her expression.
Then she stood, moving with careful deliberation.
“Fine. But you no try anything.” Her finger pointed at my chest, right where my marks were. “I find way…make you regret.”
The threat would have been more impressive if she wasn’t half my size and still shivering with residual cold. My lips twitched, but I respected her courage. It was either that or foolishness, to stand up to someone who had every advantage.
“Noted,” I said dryly, and led her from the room.
My private chambers were on the third floor of the compound, with windows that overlooked the valley and gave me a clear view of the mountains beyond.
The space was functional rather than decorative.
A sleeping platform, a workspace with maps and supply inventories, shelves filled with books and records.
Cleo entered cautiously. Her eyes cataloged everything. She spotted the weapons on the wall, the strategic maps, the stacks of old data pads that no one knew how to access anymore.
“Sit,” I said, gesturing to one of the chairs near the workspace.
She remained standing. “I fine here.”
Of course she was. I moved to lean against the desk instead, putting some distance between us. The marks on my chest pulsed with warmth, protesting the space.
“Your translation ability,” I started. “How does it work?”
Her hand moved reflexively to the spot behind her right ear. “Technology. Implant in skull bone. Learns languages. Translates.”
“Technology implanted in your body?” The concept was foreign but fascinating. “All of your kind have this?”
“No. Just those who…explore. Expect encounter different species.” She tilted her head. “You have that?”
“We don’t.” I studied her, trying to reconcile her small stature with the courage and intelligence I’d seen. “Your species is different from your companions. You’re not related to…?” I gestured vaguely at my arms, trying to find words for the color-shifting beings like Baleck and Mierva.
“Destrans,” she supplied. “They Destrans. I am human. From planet Earth. Destrans and humans… Allies.” She paused. “You don’t know Destrans? They from this planet.”
I nodded. “I cannot miss the similarities. There are old stories. Legends of sky people who fled in living ships during the time of great chaos. Those who left while others stayed behind and adapted.” I touched my chest. “We are D’tran. Descendants of those who remained.”
Her eyes widened slightly, as if pleased and surprised that I had the capacity to grasp this. “Yes. Related to Destrans. Evolved differently.”
“It would seem so.” I moved closer, drawn by curiosity and that inexplicable pull. “These Destrans. They still live in the sky?”
“They live in Solas. Living ships. Very big. On moon far away. They built civilization there.” She met my gaze directly.
The skin around her eyes was strained, making me wonder what toll this translation device was taking on her.
“We explore this world. Where your shared ancestors came from before war.”
War. So apparently our cousins had not had it any easier in space than we’d had it down here.
And now people from that lost civilization had returned, bringing with them technology and knowledge we’d lost countless cycles ago.
Spacecraft. Devices put inside the head that could translate languages.
And that was likely just a tiny fraction of what they knew.
Of what discoveries they could share with us.
Either they were our salvation or our doom. And I had no way of knowing which.
I stepped closer without thinking, needing to understand. “Your companions. Baleck and Mierva. You’re their…ally? Friend?”
“Colleague. Friend.” She shrugged. “Work together. Study planets together. Until ship caught in storms and we evacuate in pods.”
I was close enough now that I could see the pulse at her throat, the way her breathing had quickened. My marks burned hotter. I couldn’t help it. Every time I got near her, every time I touched her…
I reached out and grasped her shoulder gently, trying to emphasize my next point. “How many others survived? How many might come looking for you?”
The marks blazed bright enough that both of us looked down at my chest. The intricate patterns were just visible through my shirt now.
“Fuck,” Cleo said, her voice tight and her eyes wide. “Want explain why mating marks light up like console panel?” She pulled away from my touch, and the glow immediately started to fade. “How many mates do you actually have?”
Mating marks. The term caught me off guard. “What?”
“Those.” She gestured at my chest, my arms, everywhere the marks showed.
“Destrans have mating marks. They appear when Destran find mate. One mate for life. Yours, and others like you…marks are everywhere. You must have many mates, but…” She trailed off, her brow knitting in confusion.
“Eh. They glow when you touch me. I no understand what happening here.”
“These are not mating marks.” I looked down at my arms, at the patterns I’d carried since birth. “These are sacred marks. All D’tran have them. They’re part of us from the beginning.”
“But that one glow,” she insisted. “When you touch me. Why?”
I wished I had an answer. “Sacred marks respond to powerful emotional or spiritual moments,” I said slowly, trying to make sense of it myself.
“They’re said to illuminate in the presence of one’s destined mate.
But that’s…” I shook my head. “That’s legend.
Younglings’ stories. They rarely glow at all, and when they do, it’s brief. Not like this.”
Her expression had shifted to something between fascination and caution. “You say these marks not like Destran mating marks?”
“I’m saying I don’t know.” The admission cost me. “I’ve never seen marks respond this way. Never felt them burn like this. And you’re not even D’tran. You’re alien. It should be impossible.”
We stood there staring at each other, the air between us charged with questions neither of us could answer.
“You have mate?” she asked finally, her voice carefully neutral.
“No.” I watched relief flash across her face before she could hide it, and felt something triumphant surge in my chest. “But if I did, my marks wouldn’t change.”
“They change now.”
“They do,” I agreed.
She turned away, putting distance between us. I didn’t follow. She needed space to process, and honestly, so did I.
“The other evacuation pods,” I said, steering us back to safer topics. “Your friends. We saw no other crashes in our territory. If they survived, they landed somewhere beyond the mountains.”
“Where storms are.” Her voice was flat. “Where nothing survives.”
I moved to the window, looking out at the mountains that both protected and imprisoned us. “Some things survive, but we have no contact with those places. We stay in our valley.”
“So, we trapped here.” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Trapped in valley with people who think we want to destroy them. Friends are possibly dead.”
“You’re not trapped,” I said. “You’re under my protection. You’re safe.”
She turned to look at me, those soil-brown eyes searching my face. “Why? Why protect us when council wants us gone?”
“Because executing three injured people would make me the kind of leader who deserves to fail.” I held her gaze. And because my marks reacting to you means something, even if I don’t understand what. “I don’t act rashly.”
She nodded. “So what happens now?”
“Now you stay in those quarters. Under guard, but with freedom to move around the compound during daylight. You’ll be fed, clothed, given medical care.
And you’ll help me understand your people, your technology, your purpose here.
” I crossed my arms. “In exchange, I’ll keep you alive and do everything I can to find information about your missing crew members. ”
“That it? No hidden fee?”
I didn’t know what she meant by “fee.” Did she think I wanted currency from her?
“That is all until we determine you’re not a threat, or unless circumstances change.
” I moved toward the door, needing distance before my marks decided to flare again.
“The prophecy my seers believe in says your arrival will bring ruin or renewal to my clan. My people are afraid because they don’t know which you represent.
Show them you’re not here to destroy what we’ve built. Prove Vax and his supporters wrong.”
“How, when we under guard?” she asked.
I paused at the door, looking back at her. She stood there in borrowed clothing that didn’t quite fit, exhausted and bruised and still defiant. Still brave enough to challenge me, despite everything.
“Be truthful,” I said. “Be peaceful. We are primitive, compared to you, but we are not beasts.”
I left before she could respond, before the pull toward her could override my better judgment. I walked back down the corridor and told the guards to return her to the guest quarters. “Bring in the next one,” I said.
“Which one?” the guard asked.
I shrugged. “The male.” Cleo had been the one I wanted to speak with, but I had to be careful not to single her out. Doing so could result in suspicion with my people and hers. I would speak with all three of them.
Mating marks, she’d called them. Sacred marks that identified one’s destined partner.
Impossible. Cleo was alien. Human. From another world entirely.
I ran my hands through my hair and attempted to shake off the hyperawareness that seemed to come with being around Cleo. I couldn’t shake the memory of how her eyes had clouded with conflict when she’d asked if I had a mate. Or the relief that had flashed across her face when I’d said no.
Prophecies and sacred marks and sky people returning after a thousand cycles of isolation.
My life had been so much simpler yesterday.