Chapter 14 #2
“The valley looks like it was never affected,” the human—Zara—said, her voice tight with tension.
“The tower in this valley fell during a landslide many hundreds of sun-cycles ago.” I gestured behind me. “Still, the end of the towers benefits all. For that, you have my gratitude.”
“Then show that gratitude by releasing our people,” the protective Destran male said. His voice carried the authority of command. A captain, perhaps. Or a lord.
Something that might have been amusement flickered through me despite the tension. “Your crew members are cared for, fed, and have all they need. They are part of my clan now.”
“Then let me see them,” Zara demanded. “Let me talk to Cleo.”
“No.”
The word hung in the air between us. I watched her face transform from hope to fury in a heartbeat.
“What do you mean, no? She’s my friend. She’s part of our crew. We need to take her home.”
“Her home is here now.” I locked eyes with her, willing her to understand what I couldn’t say. That Cleo was mine. That she was valued and adored and loved. That I would die before I let harm come to her. “With my clan. As it is with the two Destrans.”
“You can’t just keep them.” Zara’s voice rose with panic and fury. “They have lives. Mierva has a mate on one of the Solas. Baleck is a communications officer. They have work. Families. They have—”
“They have a place here. My seers say your people are a prophecy. I cannot let them go.” The words came out harder than I’d intended, but the council’s decision was still fresh in my mind.
The weight of generations of prophecy pressed down on my shoulders.
“Acceptance is not given lightly. They stay. Until we know all is safe.”
Even as I said it, part of me rebelled. But I couldn’t show weakness. Not now. Not with Vikkat watching, weighing, judging. Not with my own guards looking to me for leadership.
Zara stared at me. “They crash-landed. No prophecy can justify keeping them prisoner.”
“Ruin or renewal,” I murmured, repeating Zelana’s words. “I will not risk my people’s safety. Your companions are safe. Now, leave.”
“No.” She took a step forward, and immediately my guards moved to intercept. The Destran male’s hand curled around her arm, but she shook him off. “I’m not leaving without them. I’m not abandoning my best friend on this planet because some territorial warlord decided she belongs to him.”
Warlord. The insult stung, even though I understood her fury.
“Zara,” Vikkat warned quietly. “We cannot invade another D’tran territory. It would mean war between our peoples.”
“Then there will be war!” she ground out. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving Cleo here!”
I studied her for a long moment. This was the female Cleo spoke of many times. The brilliant, stubborn, impossible friend who’d saved a planet. The one Cleo missed. And I was keeping them apart.
Every instinct screamed to send them away, to keep Cleo safe in the valley where I knew she was protected. But looking at Zara’s fury, at the desperation beneath it, I saw myself reflected back. This was how I would react if someone tried to keep Cleo from me.
“Such fire,” I said, moving closer despite the way the Destran male tensed beside her.
“Zara. Yes. Your friend speaks of you often, with great affection. She said you have much to say about most everything.” I let my gaze meet hers, trying to convey something I couldn’t say aloud.
“Listen well, Zara of the stars. Your companions are not prisoners. They move freely through the village, eat at my table, sleep in comfort. Cleo studies this world—something she seems to enjoy greatly. Mierva learns about history, culture. Baleck learns ancient warrior ways.”
“If they’re not prisoners, then let them come tell me that themselves.”
The reasonable request. The one I couldn’t grant.
“It is not safe. The prophecy must play out.” I studied her carefully, looking for any sign of deception. But all I saw was genuine fear for her friend. “They are clan now. That is final.”
“And the Destrans?” the male asked. “They chose this too?”
“They are adapting well to life in the valley. They are learning, growing stronger, becoming part of something larger than themselves.” The words came easier now.
Because they were true. Baleck and Mierva had integrated into the clan in ways I hadn’t expected.
“They are clan. I do not exile clan members to uncertain fates among the stars.”
Zara’s expression shifted through rage, desperation, and finally something that looked like calculation. “I’ll be back,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “I’ll return with an armada if I have to. I’ll bring every ship, every warrior, every resource I can muster. And I will get them back.”
Perfect.
The thought came unbidden, but I recognized its truth immediately. I couldn’t let them leave with Cleo based on their word alone. I couldn’t risk that they were imposters sent by enemies I didn’t even know existed. But if they came back, if they brought an armada…
That would give Cleo time to decide. Time to be certain.
And it would prove beyond doubt that these people were who they claimed to be.
No enemies would waste those resources on a rescue.
I’d have a chance to meet with Vikkat to both verify Zara’s claims and learn exactly how the storms were stopped.
If I could offer proof to the council that our three sky people had no connection to the storms, why force them to stay?
And when they came back, I could let Cleo choose. With full knowledge. With certainty.
Even if it destroyed me.
I laughed, surprising myself with the genuine sound.
“I look forward to it. Perhaps by then, you will have learned that some bonds transcend duty and logic, and even wants.” I let my expression turn serious.
“Your companions are not in danger. They are not unhappy. Trust in that, if you can trust in nothing else.”
“How can I trust anything you say when you won’t let me see them?”
“Because I give you my word as leader of this territory.” I placed my hand over my marks, over the patterns that burned for Cleo even now. “No harm will come to them. They are clan, which means they are under my protection as surely as if they had been born to it.”
The Destran male’s hand found Zara’s, squeezing gently. “We should go.”
“I’m not—”
“We’re going,” he said more firmly. “For now. We’ll regroup, contact the Destran city, arrange for proper rescue operations or negotiators. But we’re not starting a war today.”
Smart male. Patient. Tactical. The kind of person who’d make a good leader.
The kind of person Cleo would respect.
Zara looked at me one last time. “If anything happens to them. If they’re hurt, or scared, or if you’re lying about any of this—”
“Then you may have your war,” I said calmly. “But you will find I speak truth. Your people are exactly where they need to be.”
I watched them retreat, the convoy turning slowly, heading back through the tunnel. Vikkat met my eyes briefly before he left, his expression unreadable.
When they were gone, my guards converged on me.
“Should we pursue?” one asked.
“No. Let them go.”
Vax materialized from the tunnel entrance. His demotion to scout meant he’d been stationed here, and I’d forgotten he’d witness this confrontation. His eyes were gray with concern. “Lord Rezor. They’ll return. With greater numbers.”
“I know.”
“And you’ll let them?” He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “You’ll risk war for the sky people?”
“There will be no war,” I said, then turned to face him fully. “Did Vikkat look coerced to you? Did any of those warriors?”
“No,” Vax admitted. “But—”
“They’ll return. With proof of who they are. With resources that prove their intentions. And when they do…” I looked back toward the valley, where Cleo was probably still in the tech chambers, unaware that her “rescue” had been so close. “When they do, we’ll make the right decision.”
“Which is?”
“I don’t know yet.”
I left them there, my guards muttering among themselves about invasion preparations and defensive strategies. I walked back through the valley, my mind spinning with everything that had just happened.
Despite the fact that I needed assurances and proof, my gut told me that Zara was who she claimed to me. That Cleo’s crew had survived. That they’d come for her.
And I’d sent them away.
The guest quarters were empty when I arrived. Baleck and Mierva were probably at their usual afternoon activities. But one of the guards stationed outside looked nervous.
“Lord Rezor. Cleo is in your chambers. She…she said she needed to speak with you. Immediately.”
My stomach dropped. “How long ago?”
“About a quarter hur. Right after Spiek returned from the tunnel and mentioned the convoy.”
Of course. Word would have spread quickly through the guard network. And Cleo would have heard.
I returned to my quarters and climbed the stairs to my chambers with a growing sense of dread. When I opened the door, she was standing at the window, her back to me. Her posture was rigid with fury.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice was cold. Controlled. More frightening than if she’d been screaming.
I pulled in a breath. Released it. And said nothing.
“Guards talk, Rezor. Did you know that? They talk to each other. They talk to the people. They talk to us.” She turned to face me, and the hurt in her eyes cut deeper than any blade. “My crew was here, wasn’t it? Zara was here. Right outside the valley. And you didn’t tell me.”
“I was informed of a convoy,” I said, crossing my arms. “I needed to verify who they were and what they wanted.”
“Verify what? That they were actually my people and not some elaborate trick?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You met them. You saw them. And you sent them away without even letting me speak to them.”
I inclined my head. “We do not allow outsiders into the valley.”
“They aren’t outsiders. They’re my people.” She moved toward me, her eyes blazing. “Were you afraid I’d leave? Were you afraid I’d choose them over you?”
“Yes.” The admission burst out of me. “Yes, I was afraid. I’m terrified, Cleo. Because I know you don’t want to stay. I can feel you pulling away from me every cycle that passes.”
“So your solution was to deny me the choice entirely? To keep my crew away and hope I’d…what? Just forget about them? Accept my place here like a good little mate?”
“I was trying to protect you—”
“I don’t need your protection! I need my freedom!” She was shouting now, all that control shattered. “I need the right to make my own choices about my own life!”
“And I need to keep you safe,” I replied. “I need to know that the people claiming to be your crew actually are. I need to speak with Vikkat privately, to verify their identities before I risk bringing strangers into the valley. Before I risk everything on word alone.”
“You could have asked me. You could have brought me with you to meet them.”
“And if they’d tried to take you? If it had been a trap?”
“Then I would have dealt with it! I’m not helpless, Rezor. I’m not some fragile thing that needs to be locked away for her own good.”
“You are precious to me.” My voice broke on the words. “More precious than anything in this valley. More precious than my own life. And yes, that makes me want to protect you. Even from choices that might hurt you.”
“Choices that might hurt you, you mean.” She shook her head. “This wasn’t about my safety. This was about not wanting to lose me.”
“No. This planet has seen more blood spilled and species lost than I care to think about.” I moved closer, though she retreated a step. “Protecting this valley and every living thing in it is not only my duty, it’s in my bones. It’s who I am. I know no other way.”
“So you aren’t worried that I’ll leave?” she asked.
“Of course, I am,” I burst out. “You’ve given me your body but not your heart.
You share my bed but not my quarters. You help my people but won’t commit to being one of them.
And now your crew is here, offering you a way back to the stars.
Back to the life you had before. How could that not worry me? ”
Tears were streaming down her face now. “Rezor, if you loved me, you’d give me the information I need and let me choose. Instead, you’re hiding things from me. Making decisions for me.”
It was not as simple as she was making it out to be, and I had not even told her of what I’d gotten from the meeting before the convoy arrived. “The council—”
“Fuck the council. Why didn’t you invite them in? Why didn’t you at least let me talk to Zara?”
And clearly now was not the time to have a calm, balanced conversation about it.
A pounding ache took up residence behind my temples.
She wasn’t even wrong. In retrospect, I should have allowed Cleo to speak with Zara, but at the time, I thought I was doing the right thing.
Handling it as a cautious and strong leader should.
The way my father would have. I thought about the thousands of sun-cycles of isolation.
The generations of my people living behind these mountains, protected from the world outside.
The fear that had been bred into us, the certainty that opening our borders meant death.
And something in me snapped.
“You ask too much, mate.” The words came out harsh, angry.
“Upending our entire way of life. Demanding changes to customs that have been in place since the time of my ancestors. My clan has survived this long because we kept the outside world away. Because we trusted no one. And you want me to throw all of that aside on faith? On the word of strangers who might be exactly who they claim—or might be enemies who would infiltrate and destroy our home?”
She stared at me, and I saw the moment something broke between us. Some fragile thread of hope that had been holding us together.
“They will return,” I said, forcing my voice to steady. “Zara promised as much. And when they do, with proof of who they are, with resources that verify their story, you may do what you like. You can leave with them. You can stay. The choice will be yours.”
Her voice was calm. Deadly calm. “It better be.”