by Raine Thomas
Tiege raised an eyebrow over his friend’s floundering. “Hey, you’re really gone over her, aren’t you?”
Quincy sighed forlornly. “To the point where you should truly pity me.”
“Well, damn.” Thinking of his Uncle James, Tiege grinned. “Quincy, my friend…you’re totally screwed.”
When Zachariah got up, he still felt groggy. The sun was beginning to rise, telling him that he had slept longer after the strange dream with the bright-haired female than he expected. With this thought in mind, he decided to get up and moving.
When he shifted, Nyx gave a snort and rolled over—toward the rear of the cave, fortunately. He wasn’t feeling particularly spry, and trying to evade the many-ton animal seemed like a monumental effort at the moment. Stretching in an attempt to ease the lingering soreness in his chest, he felt at his side for his tomahawk as a matter of habit and then moved to the front of the alcove so he could relieve himself in the bushes just outside, yawning widely as he walked.
Despite himself, he once again considered the intensity of the dream. He wondered if it was a result of the strange exhaustion that had claimed him. It had taken him a surprising number of hours to actually fall asleep once he and Nyx stopped traveling so he could rest, and his sleep had been deeper than usual. Could that have affected his subconscious?
Never before had he experienced such vivid details while he slept and retained them upon waking. Why had he envisioned such a specific female? And such an odd one at that?
Nyx’s movements inside the alcove jostled him from his thoughts and told him she was fully roused. They would set off soon. When he once again stepped into the alcove, he chanced to look down.
And spotted a shiny, dark blue bead near Nyx’s rear leg.
He stared at it for a long moment, not breaking his gaze from the foreign item glinting in the light even when Nyx shifted and padded toward him to force her head under his hand. She seemed to sense his thoughts. If she could speak, he wondered if she would say the very thing he was thinking.
What the bloody hell?
The curse roared through Tate’s head, shoving her from her slumber. She blinked at the sunlight filtering through the leaves above her head. Disoriented, she lifted her head to look around.
When she remembered where she was, she groaned and covered her eyes with the crook of her arm. She was too tired to get up yet.
What was it that woke her? The growled curse had sounded as though it was issued by the male she had somehow visited during her sleep. But she sensed even without looking around that the male wasn’t nearby.
Despite telling herself to go back to sleep, her brain wouldn’t cooperate. It refused to shut down, sending her a carousel of images that rotated from her parents to her siblings to her cousins, eventually stopping on the dream male. Even in her mind, he frowned at her.
She couldn’t deny being curious about him. He’d looked about her age in human terms, and this combined with his numerous pairing markings told her he was an older being. Since Estilorians assumed forms upon transitioning that reflected what they considered to be the most vital age, most of the older beings were the most youthful in appearance. She wondered if her dad knew him, seeing as they were both Gloresti.
Perhaps his size should have daunted her, but it didn’t. She figured he was no bigger than her father, at any rate. His muscles had impressed her. The tank top he wore hadn’t been designed for him. It clung far too close to his tan skin, revealing the definition in his chest and abs. It made her wonder why he didn’t connect with his Lekwuesti for more appropriate clothing.
Then she realized that she was thinking of her dream male as more than a dream.
Well, even if he wasn’t just a dream male, there were certainly more pressing things to deal with at the moment. Deciding she had to get moving, she sighed and adjusted the skirt-cloak-blanket around her shoulders. Getting to her feet, she brushed herself off and went in search of the best leaves she could find so she could take care of her toileting needs.
And very quickly reiterated to herself that she would absolutely never leave home again after this. Her parents would be stuck with her forever.
It didn’t take long after waking for her stomach to start talking to her. Eyeing her nunchucks, she wished for a sharper weapon. Eating fruit and vegetables as she found them was all good, but she figured after her lack of success yesterday that fish and meat would likely be more plentiful. She’d need a way to hunt and fillet. And she’d have to try and create fire by hand, something she hadn’t done in many years.
Shoving her lingering fatigue to the side, she started walking. She’d just have to find something to make an effective weapon. While she was at it, she would progress in the direction that felt right.
It took her about ten minutes to find a thick enough branch to serve as a handle for a possible weapon. She didn’t come across any food during that time, nor did she spy anything useful to complete the weapon. The ground grew less forested and ultimately opened up to a plain after she hiked for nearly thirty minutes. She could see more forest across the broad expanse, but it was miles and miles away.
Her shoulders sinking, she considered her options. She could either go back and revisit the ground she had already covered, continuing on in the other direction in hopes of having more success, or she could move forward in the direction that seemed to be beckoning and tell her stomach to shut up for a while longer.
Sighing, she said, “Shut up, stomach. We’re pushing on.”
Chapter 16
Harold met with his second commander, Alexius, and his lieutenant, Donald, in a beach cottage created by the elders many years ago. Typically, Donald spent most of his time at the class homeland training the newest recruits; however, they were in need of as many skilled Waresti as possible down on the mainland at the moment.
“What can you tell me about the recent Lekwuesti losses?” Harold asked his top ranking officers and the ten Waresti soldiers also standing with them.
As expected, Alexius responded first. He stood with his hands braced against the table edge. “We have learned that two Lekwuesti females disappeared about two weeks ago from a group that visited the mainland as part of their orientation. The females, named Tisha and Ariana, haven’t been seen since. Neither of them was old enough to be paired with anyone yet, so we have received no distress calls from either of them.”
Harold nodded. “Any insights on the missing females?”
“Lieutenant Balera said it was very odd. The Lekwuesti were all brought together when word of Tate’s death—that is, her disappearance—reached the Gloresti. A Gloresti named Henry was assigned to the Lekwuesti, Ariana. He distinctly remembers her standing among her peers before he met with the rest of the Gloresti to learn the news and receive his orders on the action to be taken.”
“And the other female? Tisha?”
“Her Gloresti, Kenya, was responsible for rounding up the other Gloresti for the meeting. She reported sending Tisha with several of her peers into the designated area. She never saw her again.”
Harold considered this. He looked down at the large, ephemeral map he had generated glowing on the table. The Waresti was a prolific class, but the Estilorian plane was extensive. There were many places one could hide if so inclined. And Zachariah had been particularly wily. Harold wasn’t surprised the former Gloresti second commander had avoided detection all this time if he intended it.
Once upon a time, the two of them had been the human equivalent of friends. It was hard for Harold to believe that Zachariah had gone rogue so that he could dwell on the mainland and prey on unsuspecting Estilorians. But Luvania’s final word was quite damning.
Pushing the personal thoughts aside, Harold tapped his finger against a spot on the map and asked, “This is the point where we lost the Lekwuesti, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And we have patrols in that area already, do we not?”
“Yes, sir.”
Harold nodded. “Very well. On to the Kynzesti, then.” He glanced over at a female named Celine. She had a particularly strong knowledge about wildlife on the mainland, and oversaw that element of the Waresti training. Their class had to be highly knowledgeable about their environment, including the various creatures dwelling there. “Celine, how fast can a kragen fly while carrying a weight of approximately one hundred and forty pounds?”
“It would depend on the size of the kragen, sir,” she responded. “From the descriptions provided by the witnesses, it was a sizeable creature with a wingspan of about thirty feet. That’s among the largest I’ve ever heard of, and it probably provides an excellent lift to drag ratio—”
“Celine,” Harold interrupted, knowing she had a tendency to be rather enthusiastic about sharing her knowledge. “There are beings in need of our aid. I simply need to know how far the kragen that took Tate could have traveled by now.”
She nodded, unbothered by the interruption. “Considering a kragen’s typical flight pattern, it could easily have traveled over fifteen hundred miles by now.”
There were looks of surprise and concern exchanged around the table. That was an enormous amount of ground to cover.
“However,” she added, “my guess would be that the animal has a lair—someplace it considers a base. Typically, the kragen will bring its prey to that lair to either devour it or save it until a future time. Most kragens do not venture terribly far from their lairs to feed.”
“Their lairs are usually well-hidden, aren’t they?” asked one of the soldiers.
“They are,” she confirmed.
Harold considered this. The bottom line was there was no real way to know where Tate had been taken. The kragen had started out heading in one direction, but it could have changed course several times during its flight. And if its lair was well-hidden, as Celine indicated, they might never find it. Kragens usually surfaced every twenty-five years or so, which meant they were particularly good at finding places to burrow from sight.
“We must focus on finding Tiege and the others,” he said at last. “Tiege is the only one who might be able to find Tate if she is truly in that kragen’s lair.”
“We’ll have scouts searching for them,” Alexius said. “If they fly, they’ll be more easily spotted.”
Harold nodded. “And if they don’t think of that, they’re not as smart as I think they are.” He looked again at the map. “I think they’ll fly, but they’ll find lower elevations at which to do it to keep from sight. That limits the places they can travel. I’m also hoping that they’ll reach an unfamiliar area that will force them into the open where we can spot them.
“I want you to focus your search here,” he said, pointing to a forested area southwest of their location. “And we’ll hope we get to them before they come to harm.”
Tiege was puzzled. The entire day before, from the time they left their homeland until the time they made camp about an hour before sunset, he felt a pull that he knew was guiding him toward Tate. It had eased a bit as the night arrived, allowing him to sleep.
They gave themselves three hours to rest, which was generally enough time for an Estilorian to regain full energy. Even with his quarter-human blood, Tiege was ready to go right along with the others. But the connection wasn’t there.
“Maybe it only works at certain times of that day,” Clara Kate said with a concerned frown. “It’s still dark out. Maybe once the sun rises that will help.”
They hadn’t left the camp site after rising because they had to decide what to do. Tiege now paced as he struggled to reclaim the feeling that had driven them that far.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Sophia said, earning a nudge from C.K. “Ow! What?”
“The Gloresti-Corgloresti bond is meant to be heightened when one of the pair is in danger or otherwise in need of assistance,” Ini-herit said in his unemotional tone. He stood to the side of the small clearing with his arms crossed over his chest. “It does fade if the danger has passed.”
“The danger hasn’t passed,” Tiege argued, waving a hand in agitation as he paced. “Tate isn’t safe yet.”
“No, but she could now be d—”
C.K. sprang over to Ini-herit and pressed her hand against his mouth before he could finish the statement. The glare she gave him had him swallowing the last word.
“It’s possible she’s just resting,” Quincy said thoughtfully. “If she’s recovering from something as intense as the pain Tiege projected, her body will need to restore itself. She’ll have a strong desire to sleep more than usual.”
Sophia nodded. “Now that makes sense,” she said, earning a second glare from C.K. She shrugged. “Sorry, cuz.”
“So what do we do?” Tiege asked, finally coming to a halt. “The longer we stay here, the more likely we are to be found.”
Ini-herit agreed. “We should keep moving. And we should fly low, near the trees and between them whenever possible. The Waresti will definitely be looking to the skies in an effort to locate us.”
“Seems awfully risky,” C.K. said. “We won’t notice any Waresti scouts until we’re right up on them.”
They paused to consider this. Then Sophia smiled. “I think I can help with that,” she said.
Tiege felt the connection to Tate grow stronger after only an hour or so of flight.
Relieved, he said over his shoulder to Ini-herit, “We need to head east.” He was riding tandem with the elder.
“Very well. We will wait for Sophia to return and then change course.”
Tiege nodded. Although he urgently wanted to change direction right then, not knowing how long this connection with Tate would last before it again faded, he knew they couldn’t leave Sophia. His cousin had assumed the form of the harpy eagle and was flying well ahead of them, scouting for Waresti or other dangers. With the bird’s sharp eyesight, she was a highly effective lookout.
It hadn’t taken long for Tiege to get over the strangeness of flying. He could admit that having to be flown around by Ini-herit wasn’t a bushel of laughs, but the flight was smooth and rather exhilarating.
He thought of his parents and wished there was a way to assure them of his well-being. None of the Kynzesti were mentally connected with their parents, something that he knew puzzled the elders. Because his parents and aunts and uncles were all strongly bonded and joined in thought, it had been assumed that the entire family would be so joined.
Most of the time, he was relieved by this. Now, however, it seemed cruel to leave them back home fearing what had become of him.
He knew they were wondering whether they had gone from losing one of their firstborn children to losing both.
Chapter 17
It took about an hour for Zachariah to reason out how the bead had come to be on the ground in the alcove. He supposed it was fortunate that he had developed a much-broadened thought process over the past fifty years. Because of his chosen lifestyle, he’d come to think of things on multiple levels rather than just on the surface.
On the surface, he thought as he walked with Nyx pacing him only a few feet away, it seemed he had experienced a vivid dream about a lemon-scented, curiously-colored, billowy-haired female, and she had somehow managed to leave one of her many hair adornments behind.
He puzzled over this from the moment he picked up the bead and put it in his pocket and all through his trek in the direction opposite of where he had been headed in a foolish attempt to track down the group of unknown Estilorians. It was probably only a Mercesti camp, anyway, he reasoned as he committed to his new course. They tended to keep at least one female camp follower among them.
It had been surprisingly difficult to push aside his instincts and abandon the hunt. To avoid thinking of it, he instead focused on the damn bead.
Dreams didn’t usually result in physical evidence left behind once the dreamer awoke. There had been a few historic incidents involving the Orculesti, Morpheus, but those stopped centuries ago. It seemed Morpheus fin
ally learned his lesson after he got thoroughly thrashed by a Waresti female when he used his abilities on her. So, barring such powerful abilities, there had to be a logical explanation for the bead.
Zachariah’s mind was only half on his path as he mulled it over. He revisited the dream, considering the female’s torn and repurposed clothing as well as the bruising he’d spotted on her upper body. She’d had faint circles under her eyes, he realized in hindsight, but he hadn’t really noticed those under the intensity of her blue-green gaze. He thought of the staining he’d noted along one side of her ragged top. Now that he thought about it more closely, it had looked a lot like dried blood. And then he considered the timing of the dream, occurring within a relatively short span of time after he left the cave.
That’s what had him staggering to a halt in the middle of a grove of trees.
“Impossible,” he said.
He stood there in pondering silence as the logic fully caught up with him. Pulling the bead out of his pocket, he held it so that the sunlight caught it. Then he glanced over at Nyx, who now sat on the other side of a few trees.
Walking over to her, he followed her length to the curve of her tail. She didn’t move as he began running his hands along her hindquarters. He did a careful scan all the way to the tip of her tail, being sure to look under any loose scales.
When he was done, he had three colored feathers and a handful of beads in his hands…as well as an explanation of who the dream female was.
It took Tate more than an hour to cross the plain. She felt so exposed in the middle of the wide, grassy area that she ran as much as possible, most of the time crouching uncomfortably to stay closer to the ground. By the time she finally reached the trees on the other side, her chest was an agonized ball of pain.
The moment she breached the tree line, she collapsed to the shady ground and struggled to catch her breath. Bracing herself on her forearms, she took frequent, shallow breaths and squeezed her eyes shut to push through the pain as sweat dripped from her temples down the sides of her face. Although she knew she should be as quiet and stealthy as possible, uncontainable moans issued from her throat with each breath. She truly thought she might pass out again.
