by Tasha Black
“Beautiful as Lumen’s pond,
Took my love and sealed the bond,
Kisses sweet as wild honey,
Lick my lover on the—”
“Enough,” Sarah yelped. “There is no need to sing your bawdy songs in front of the baby.”
“Baby,” Zane cooed. “Baby boy. There he is.”
Bowen was too busy eating the bread Sarah still had clutched in her hand to take any notice of him. Zane sang in a soothing, lullaby way to the baby.
There was a pretty lassie picking flowers in the dell,
A laddie came one afternoon, before her heart he fell,
He gave her his love letters and a comb of tortoise shell,
But he never made the lass that picks her flowers in the dell.
It still sounded like the beginning of a bawdy song to Sarah, but Bowen had dropped the bread and was crawling toward Zane’s arms as he sang on.
There was a pretty lassie picking flowers in the dell,
A gentleman was passing and before her heart he fell,
He gave her bands of burnished gold to ring the wedding bell,
But he never made the lass that picks her flowers in the dell.
Bowen snuggled into his chest and went promptly to sleep.
There was a pretty lassie picking flowers in the dell,
A dragon came to court her, and before her heart he fell,
He gave her his protection and she fell under his spell,
And the dragon made the lassie…
Zane’s song trailed off into a loud snore.
“He’s a loyal friend,” Slade said, a smile in his voice.
“With a loud voice,” Sarah agreed.
“Listen, I’ll take the first watch,” Slade said. “Unless you’d like me to stay with you a while longer?”
There was a hopeful glow in his hazel eyes, and she remembered that she had first thought the marshal was handsome.
But the drunk and sleeping dragon had a hold on her heart.
“I’m fine,” she told him. “But bring some supper up there with you.”
“Mighty obliged,” he said, watching her pack up a mug of soup and a few wedges of buttered bread.
“Do I need to worry about more eels?” Sarah asked.
“No, ma’am,” he replied. “I’ll dispose of this one. They’re rare, and extremely territorial. There won’t be another one for miles.”
“Good,” she said, nodding, and hoping she could believe him. “Then I guess I’ll try to get some sleep myself.”
20
Zane
Zane awoke in the darkness of a strange, cold place.
His dragon senses kicked in to tell him that the figure moving in the shadows nearby was his mate.
“Sarah?” he murmured.
His voice was strange and raspy, as if he had been screaming.
No.
He had been singing.
The events of the night before crowded back into his mind all at once and he sat up, clutching his head in his hands.
Bowen was sleeping beside him, his little hands splayed out like starfish.
And Sarah was sitting on the edge of the bedroll, lacing up her boots.
“Where are you going?” he asked her.
“Someone has to relieve the marshal,” she said. “And you’re in no condition to do it.”
“I’m fine now. But Sarah…” He trailed off, uncertain how to even address last night.
“About that stuff you said,” she murmured, turning to him.
“What stuff?” he asked. If he was remembering correctly, he had said a lot of stuff.
“About the mate bond,” she said. “About it being the best thing that ever happened to you?”
“I meant it,” he told her. “I know I said it like a buffoon, and I seem to remember following it up with some, er, singing.”
“Yes, several songs were sung.” She was trying not to smile, but he could see her eyes twinkling.
Thank the gods she has a sense of humor.
“You and Bowen give me purpose,” he told her gruffly. “I don’t want you to rush into any decisions. But I hope you’ll accept my claim, Sarah Flynn.”
She nodded while looking down at her hands, and he wondered what she was thinking.
He could sense sadness through their tenuous bond, which was unexpected when he was declaring his feelings.
“I’m a soldier, Sarah,” he told her. “Not a poet. I wish I had the words to tell you better how you make me feel.”
“Maybe a little more eel venom would help you express yourself?” she asked and then quirked an eyebrow at him.
He found himself laughing, the sound echoing off the walls around them.
Sarah laughed too, letting her head fall back slightly so that he could see the delicate column of her neck.
He pictured himself pressing his lips to her tender flesh, pinning her to the floor of this cave and staking his claim.
“Somebody woke up.” Slade’s annoying voice filled the cave.
“Yes, we’re going to take the next shift,” Zane said.
“Fantastic,” Slade told him. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Never better,” Zane said.
“I’ll keep an eye on the little feller,” Slade said, gazing down fondly at Bowen. “I had a baby brother. I know what to do if he wakes up.”
“You’ll come get me, that’s what you’ll do,” Sarah told him firmly.
“Yes, ma’am,” Slade assured her. “I can do that.”
Sarah fixed him in her steely gaze for a moment. Whatever she saw must have satisfied her, because she nodded once and headed out of the cave.
Zane scrambled after her, nearly smashing his head on the rocky ceiling.
The air outside was cool and fresh. A light breeze rustled the long grasses in the meadow below and lifted Sarah’s dark hair as he followed her to the top of the rocky ledge.
She lowered herself to the ground and sat with her legs curled under her. He sat beside her, and they gazed out over the starlit fields together for a long moment without saying anything.
“What are we looking out for, exactly?” Sarah asked after some time.
“Predators,” Zane told her. “Big cats, and some canids live on the plains.”
“Canids?” Sarah echoed.
“Blue wolves, wild dog-lets, that kind of thing,” he explained. “Mostly they’re just hungry. But they can be aggressive if they think you’re trying to corner them.”
Sarah nodded, looking nervous.
“The main thing to look out for is other sentient beings, though,” he said. “People are far more dangerous to us than the natural wildlife here.”
“Did you forget the eel?” Sarah asked.
“The eel just wanted something to eat,” Zane said. “And maybe some peace and quiet. He wasn’t there specifically to hurt us.”
“I guess you’re right,” she said, shaking her head. “But an animal can’t be reasoned with.”
“I know people who can’t be reasoned with too,” he said.
The moment the words were out of his mouth he wished he could take them back. She would think he was talking about her, and her mission of revenge. And if he was being honest, she wouldn’t be totally wrong.
But she only nodded and looked down at her hands.
“Some things are beyond reason,” she said softly.
He felt a wave of love and sadness in his chest. She was right. Her pain at the loss of her father was akin to the wild desire the bond inspired in him. There was no sense in even trying to argue with it.
“We don’t ask for our feelings,” he told her carefully. “And we can’t control them.”
She nodded.
“But we can try to channel them,” he suggested. “Respond to them in ways that help us.”
“I know what you’re trying to do,” she told him. “It won’t work.”
“Sarah, your father lost his life,” he said, his resolve breaking. “Why
should you lose yours trying to make it right?”
“I have to do this,” she said.
“You can’t bring him back,” he told her, hating himself for his harshness.
“Oh,” she said in a surprised way.
He looked up to see that a school of shiver birds was diving toward them in perfect formation, their silvery feathers shimmering like falling stars.
“What are they?” Sarah breathed.
For a moment, her expression of wonder reminded him of when Bowen had seen a school of the same little birds, right before they met her.
“Shiver birds,” he told her. “They’re harmless.”
“They’re almost like fish,” she said as the school flew past, the air they displaced lifting her hair from her shoulders once more.
He reached out to touch the silky strands.
21
Sarah
Sarah held herself perfectly still as Zane ran his fingers through her hair.
He had done such things to her in bed, touching her in ways that made her toes curl.
But something about this was so much more intimate.
She could feel the bond between them. It was a delicate thing, but his touch played on it, like smoke revealing the beam of an infrared laser.
His eyes were so blue, and so sad.
She wished it wasn’t so, but they were at an impasse. He was right to be sad.
An ocean of pleasure and happiness opened up before her, a future in which they would come to know and love each other, raise little Bowen, and tame a beautiful new moon.
But this was a sea she would not navigate.
“Zane, I can’t,” she whispered.
“I know,” he told her, pulling her into his chest and cradling her there.
He was so warm. The comforting thump of his heart soothed her, and she let herself relax against him just for a moment.
She awoke sometime later to Bowen’s crying.
“I think he wants you,” Slade said awkwardly as he made his way up from the cave entrance with the grumpy baby in his arms.
She scrambled up, wondering how long she had been sleeping slumped against Zane’s chest. Dawn light was already filtering through the cloud cover, giving the meadows that dappled, underwater look again.
She put her arms out for Bowen.
He reached for her right away, wriggling his way into her arms, making her heart sing, even though he was still wearing a grumpy expression, lower lip pouting and tears clinging to his eyelashes.
“We should get on the trail soon,” Slade said. “I’ll tend to the mounts.”
“I’ll just feed him, and we’ll meet you down there,” Sarah said.
Slade touched his cap and headed back down.
She turned back to Zane, but he was already standing and brushing off his breeches.
The intimate moment that had passed between them last night was gone now. In the dim light of dawn, she knew what she had to do, and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t try to stop her.
“Big day ahead of us,” she said.
Bowen squeaked at her and banged his head on her shoulder.
“Are you hungry, boy?” Zane asked him.
Bowen yelled and put his hands out for his protector.
Sarah let Zane take the little one, though her arms felt empty the moment he was gone.
Eyes on the prize, Sarah girl, she reminded herself.
But as they picked their way back down to the cave to prepare for the day, a pit of dread began to form in her belly.
22
Zane
Zane was annoyed to find that once they were in the fields, the dapper marshal sniffed out the criminals’ trail almost instantly, just as he had promised.
Realistically, he knew some of his dislike for the other man was jealousy over Sarah. But it was also hard not to resent his good humor.
“You see?” he was saying, holding up a bit of dirty paper. “This is the same cigarillo wrap the perps use in the holding cells on Hesiod-8. It’s a dead giveaway.”
“Wow,” Sarah said, nodding.
“It would have been easy for them to clean up after themselves,” Slade said in a pleased way.
“No one likes a litterbug,” Sarah said.
“But they’re certainly making my job simpler,” Slade chuckled as he mounted his stallion.
Zane resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He would have been able to do this tracking in his sleep using nothing more than his dragon’s senses. But Sarah might as well get her money’s worth out of this overstuffed rooster.
At least it would keep Slade occupied, so Zane would have more time to spend with Sarah.
He tried not to let himself hope he could change her mind.
“It’s incredible out here,” Sarah said, angling her mare up to join his horse.
He looked out over the blue-green meadow. The grasses waved rhythmically back and forth in the gentle breeze like seaweed in a gentle tide.
“It smells like the orchard my father took me to once on Terra-7,” Sarah said dreamily.
“I thought you were a city girl,” Zane said.
“Oh, I was,” she told him. “This was a really special trip. We spent a month at an orchard after my dad had an especially successful tax season.”
“Why an orchard?” Zane asked. “Don’t most Terrans like beaches?”
“My father grew up on a farm,” Sarah said. “He always wanted me to be more connected to nature.”
Bowen squeaked at a massive butterfly that floated past.
It took no notice of him, but Sarah smiled fondly at the babe, and Zane felt his heart clench.
“Anyway, there was a huge harvest festival that year,” she went on. “It was incredible to see all the fruits and vegetables and pies and cookies laid out on tables in the field by the little town hall. The air was so fresh you could taste it, just like this.”
“So, you liked the countryside?” Zane asked.
“Until the last week,” she said, frowning. “We were renting rooms at a farmhouse and they had a hutch full of rabbits. The farmer’s daughter, Crayf, was about my age. She would play with them, and I did too. They were such pretty things, with long floppy ears and fur so soft it was like touching the breeze.”
“Rabbits are the ones that jump, right?” Zane asked.
“Yes, exactly,” she agreed. “Anyway, her father had been having problems with a fox that kept getting into their hen house. The farmer wanted to shoot him, but Crayf begged him not to. She was tenderhearted, and didn’t want to see any creature harmed.”
Zane nodded. He expected Bowen would be the same. He liked animals.
“So, they set traps, and built a higher fence,” Sarah said. “They tried everything. On the last night they put netting on top, too.”
“Did it work?” Zane asked, although he suspected he already knew the answer.
“It did,” Sarah nodded. “The next day when we came downstairs the chickens were fine. But then I heard Crayf scream. My father tried to stop me, but I ran to her. She was at the rabbit’s hutch. There was so much blood. The rabbits were strewn all over the ground like rag dolls.”
Zane tried to picture little Sarah, facing that horror.
“My father led me back to the house while Crayf’s father held her,” Sarah said. “I asked him why the fox would do that. Why would it kill more than it needed to eat? He told me that a tiger can’t change its stripes, and that it’s a rare creature that can change its nature.”
She paused and ran a hand through her hair. “Anyway, that evening we all went to bed, but late in the night I heard a single gunshot.”
Zane nodded.
“If Crayf had listened to her father and let him shoot the fox sooner, she wouldn’t have lost her rabbits,” Sarah said. “Isn’t that sad?”
Zane understood her point. And he wanted to explain to her that putting down an animal wasn’t like shooting a man. But he didn’t think Sarah was of a mind to be explained to just then.
“Whoa, looky here,” Slade yelped from just ahead of them.
He had dismounted again and was crouched on the ground with his rump up in the air.
But for some reason, Zane couldn’t find it in his heart to find it funny.
He glanced over at Sarah, at the look of determination she wore, and just couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling that came over him.
23
Sarah
Sarah half-listened to Slade prattle on about some clue while she kept her eyes on the valley ahead.
She swore she’d seen movement, but with the dim light undulating as the clouds above floated by, it was hard to tell what was real and what was a trick of the light.
“So, what you’re saying is we’re headed in the right direction?” Zane asked loudly, cutting off whatever Slade was longwindedly explaining.
“Yes,” Slade said, getting to his feet and briskly brushing off his breeches. “We’re going in precisely the right direction.”
She returned her gaze to the meadow ahead, while Slade got back onto his steed.
The clouds had opened up slightly to reveal what she thought she had seen before.
A man, with a young boy by his side, was working with some sort of animal.
“Look,” she said. “Maybe they saw something.”
“Tumbler flower farmer,” Slade said. “They do spend a good bit of time outdoors. Let’s find out what they’ve seen.”
As they drew closer, an incredible smell wafted toward them.
“Mmm,” Sarah said appreciatively.
“That’s the flowers,” Slade said, tapping his nose. “They’re used for tea and baking, even some perfumes. But they’re only good if you harvest the petals at the peak of their bloom. Tricky business.”
Before long, they were close enough to realize that the farmers were having trouble.
The man had his back to them. He was pulling the animal’s harness as the boy tried to push it from behind. They were surrounded by a sea of flowers with petals so long and soft-looking they were almost like puffy little pompoms.
