by Lizzy Ford
“Wow,” I breathed at the incredible scene. I craned my neck back to try to find the head of one that appeared to be either an Apatosaurus or just an oversized giraffe.
“These will not eat you,” Kay said and made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “Not on purpose anyway. Sometimes they mistake us for shrubs.”
I grimaced.
“Do you like our world?” she asked.
I hesitated. “It’s very different. I’m not sure yet.”
“Ah. You have seen so little of it. I’ll show you more. Maybe you could get used to it.”
No way in hell. But for her sake, I gave a half-hearted, “Um, maybe.”
She smiled and walked away, back into the jungle.
“Do you have cities?” I asked, trailing her.
“Of course.”
“Big ones?”
“Not so big. Our people have lived here for a million winds. Many civilizations have come and gone in that time. Our cities are small, because our population is smaller than it has ever been.”
“Because of the war?”
“Partially. It seems we have an affinity for out growing our world,” she said grimly. “We destroy our world every few hundred thousand years. We are rebounding from the last wars among our own kind some ninety thousand winds ago.”
“I’m sorry.” I wasn’t able to fathom a history spanning so far. Humans barely knew what happened five thousand years ago let alone a hundred thousand or a million. Carey was right; we were children in the universe.
“Perhaps this time, we have learned.” By the amusement in her voice, she didn’t believe it.
We walked in silence for a while. With no sight of civilization anywhere around us, I was growing anxious.
“Are you certain Teyan can help?” I asked.
“He is honor bound to help.”
“True, but am I better off searching on my own?”
“You do not know the Nidiani like we do. If your mother has been taken to their home world, we can help you find her. We have portals to their world and some individual alliances left. It is better than you seeking out their world alone.”
Her assurance buoyed my flagging belief but wasn’t able to temper my worry. I feared what might happen in the amount of time it took to reach Teyan and then return, but she was right. I had no real choice. What time I put into getting real help now was nothing compared to me wandering around an alien planet on my own.
Sometime later, she cheerfully called out, “Here it is!”
I joined her, uncertain what to expect.
We stood on a low hill, overlooking the jungle – and a city built from stone and covered from roof to sidewalk with green ivy that bloomed with purple flowers. Nestled into the jungle, it stretched as far as I could see in three directions. It was abandoned, with the exception of a few medium sized dinosaurs grazing in a courtyard and flocks of birds lining the facades of two buildings. A few butterflies were perched on the archway of the gate leading into the city.
I studied it, almost able to believe I’d found a hidden Mayan city in the middle of the Amazon jungle.
“Ten thousand winds ago, this was a city called Ashray,” Kay said and began following a trail leading down the side of the hill towards the city. Her rawerah crouched and low-crawled directly down the hill.
“What happened to it?” I asked. Gripping the vines hanging off one tree, I followed her down the steep embankment carefully.
“It was abandoned when we consolidated the population to the far side of the planet. There were too few of us to be spread out. Surviving Tili is a community endeavor.”
Hence the emphasis on alliances, I thought, and probably the chameleon skin allowing them to hide from all the creatures that wanted to eat them.
Reaching the dip at the bottom of the hill, she ventured a few more steps then turned to face the side of the hill.
“Portals are marked.” She indicated a double ring of white flowers. Beckoning me towards her, she held out a hand. “Since you have problems crossing through.” She grinned.
I rolled my eyes and accepted her hand.
Kay led us through the invisible portal. I closed my eyes and held my breath.
Seconds later, the sounds of the jungle gave way to those of civilization. Or at least, a form of it.
I opened my eyes to see we were near an intersection of two narrow, tile roads packed with tons of Tili on foot and their cats. I had expected an occupied city to be free of the vines and ivy, but this one, too, consisted of dwellings and larger buildings built low to the ground whose faces were covered with thick layers of ivy. The well-traveled roads alone were clear of vines.
The Tili had domesticated more than great cats. Animals that appeared to be ox-dinosaur hybrids hauled wagons and small pterosaurs sat on the shoulders of several warriors.
Kay started into the crowd, and I scrambled after her, trying to take in what I could. Lines of war-weary, tattooed veterans came from one direction while a line of Komandi moved in another. More animals came into sight as we walked, some small – pets probably – and others that appeared to be for manual labor. A horse we passed had tusks and stood twice as tall as any I’d ever seen. It carried huge packs on its back.
Overwhelmed in the foreign place, I turned my attention to Kay, who navigated the busy streets with ease.
She led us into a quieter part of the city, past more of the low, ivy-covered buildings, and to the edge of the city. Vast, rolling hills stretched before us, covered in triangular dwellings whose sides were coated in sworls and spirals similar to the tattoos the Tili were born with.
It was easier to breathe outside the bustle and buildings packed into the city.
Kay’s pace quickened, and her cat ran ahead of us, loping among cats and warriors alike into the center of the encampment.
We reached an open area resembling a farmer’s market with tents where stacks of supplies were being handed out to those who approached the different tents.
Kay stopped to speak to someone, and I hung back, shielding my eyes against the sun. It was hot and humid, and I needed a shower after all the sweating I’d been doing. My eyes went to Kay. I had half a mind to tell her to hurry up so we could go sit down in the shade, when I felt the gaze of the man she addressed.
Sexy. It was my first impression. A combination of strength and intensity, the Tili warrior was unarmed but didn’t need weapons for me to know he was dangerous, if he chose to be. Purple tattoos glowed against black skin. His light, tanzanite eyes were on me, the unsettling Tili intensity in full force.
Similar in height to Teyan, the man before me was wide and solid with thick arms and chest and a lean waist and hips. His was a natural strength, the kind that came from calisthenics and running, not hours in the gym. His jaw was heavy and chiseled, his forehead broad and his hair dark. He wore dozens of tokens of varying kinds of necklaces – rope, leather, metal – around his neck, each with a single charm on it. On top of them was a familiar, faded silver locket.
My heart slammed into my chest when I realized who I was looking at.
Chapter Nineteen
In all my thoughts of Teyan, I never considered he’d look so different after all these years. It suddenly seemed foolish to believe he’d be the same as when I last saw him: a tall, lanky young man.
I started forward then stopped, my confidence faltering under the penetrating gaze. His eyes were the same color but so different, the eyes of someone who had experienced great loss and untold suffering. They were hard, like his body.
Nothing of the boy I remembered remained in the man before me, and I began to think it was a mistake seeking him out.
Kay finished her story, and he responded briefly before striding toward me.
Sensing my uncertainty, Teyan stopped several feet from me and presented both his arms, palms up, in a familiar greeting. His rich scent, espresso and man, almost made me sigh, as if I was registering I had really found him after six months of worry.
He named his cat after me, I thought, gazing up at the striking, intimidating man before me in nothing short of awe.
“Gianna,” he said with softness I didn’t expect from his rugged appearance.
“Teyan,” I replied.
He moved closer, and we stared at each other. It didn’t seem possible for someone as strong and self-assured as he was to be uncertain, but I sensed he was at a loss as to what to say, same as I was.
Unable to think of anything halfway intelligent to ask, I could only struggle to contain my confused emotions. I was happy, relieved, apprehensive – and a little scared. He had been smaller when we first met, and I’d still been afraid. Now, he was much larger than the man who tried to hurt me, a war leader capable of violence I couldn’t imagine. He could do so much more damage.
“I have waited ten winds to give you something,” Teyan said quietly.
My eyes went to the locket, and I recalled the agreement we’d made. I kept his memory rock in my pocket always. “You can keep it,” I said.
“Not this.” He touched the locket at his neck. “Come.” He stepped aside and waited for me to draw abreast.
I went, relieved not to be staring at him face to face any longer.
We walked slowly. The silence between us was thick and awkward. I was trying to figure out if he could smell me sweating after my long day yesterday and morning today in the hot jungle sun. I didn’t know what he was thinking, and I feared being crushed when I found out. I feared my own reaction to seeing him as well.
“You have not changed,” he said finally.
“No.” My response was more clipped than I intended. I didn’t want to tell him the truth. Not yet, at least. It was probably inevitable, but I hoped to put it off as long as possible.
We reached an area where warriors appeared to be training their cats. Here, Teyan stopped and motioned someone over.
I gazed up at him, wanting to say something. Anything. I ended up just staring at him, and he stared back.
I spent six months waiting for this moment and couldn’t think of anything to say.
But neither could he.
We didn’t move until a man approached us, guiding a massive cat wearing a collar.
Teyan took the lead from him and gripped the rope where it met the harness over the cat’s head. He beckoned to me.
I hesitated, eyeing the long fangs of the saber tooth. This one had a thicker mane and larger head than Kay’s. It stood taller than me with bright blue eyes.
“You trusted me when we left Komandi so long ago,” Teyan said softly. “Do you trust me still?”
Yes. Always. But I didn’t know why or how I could ever trust a stranger after my history.
Instead of answering, I drew near enough to feel his body heat. He shifted to give me room to stand between him and the great cat. I moved before him, overly aware of his strength and heat at my back.
This was Teyan. He had followed me to another world to ensure I was safe and sent envoys to find me once the door was locked. He had never, would never, hurt me, even if we hadn’t become allies ten years ago.
“They like to be scratched between the ears,” he said and demonstrated.
Blinking out of my thoughts, I held out my hand to do the same. I was trembling, and my face flushed hot.
“Do not show fear,” he said. Resting his hand on top of mine to still my shaking, he pressed my palm to the forehead of the cat. I was too jarred by his strong, warm hand connecting with mine to move. Heat raced through my body.
Embarrassed by my reaction, I forced myself to focus on the cat. I scratched it as Teyan had shown me, and his touch lifted.
“He’s soft,” I said, surprised by the thick, downy fur.
The cat lifted its head, startling me. I jerked back.
Teyan steadied me, and I froze, debating if I should move away from our body to body contact or stay where I was. In the end, I reached out to pet the cat once more. The creature pushed its head into my belly and shoved me back into Teyan’s hard frame before sitting and panting.
“He likes you,” Teyan said, one hand on my hip. “This is good.”
I had no idea what to say, do or think, so I focused on the cat.
“Do you like him?” he asked.
I was terrified of the beast, but this didn’t seem like the right answer. “He’s beautiful,” I replied truthfully without answering Teyan’s question.
“The rawerah have been domesticated by my people for almost a million years. They won’t harm you, unless you are a threat to their masters.”
He reached into a bag, breaking body contact with me, and shifted to the side. I watched as he placed the same blue ring into the cat’s ear as Kay’s cat bore. Teyan then took my hand and turned it palm up.
He pressed a second ring into the meat of my hand. There was a pinch and a light burning sensation, and the ring slid beneath the top layers of skin. Confused by his touch, I didn’t understand the significance of what he did until he was done.
“Oh … wait … him?” I asked, my gaze flying up to his. “You’re giving me the rawerah?”
“Yes.”
Speechless, I was stuck staring at him again.
“I have waited ten winds to imprint one to you,” he added.
“But I can’t take him with me!”
“Why not?” Teyan cocked his head in genuine confusion, as if it was unheard of for anyone to refuse a cat.
The difference between our worlds struck me as funny, whether or not it should have. I laughed, envisioning my mom meeting the massive cat and then taking it to Wal-Mart and leaving him in the truck bed while I went in. One thing was for certain: we would never have to worry about another Jiod screwing up our world, if I had a guard cat this size.
This thought sold me on the idea. I’d deal with how to feed a pony-sized carnivore later.
Teyan’s smile was faint, and the skin around his eyes softened, even if his soulful gaze didn’t quite warm.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You won’t be afraid now,” he said.
My brow furrowed, and my face warmed again. “You remember me being afraid?”
He nodded. “I remember you telling me someone tried to hurt you. If anyone tries to hurt you, ever, no matter who it is, or where you are, your rawerah will protect you.”
It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. I ducked my gaze, not sure if I wanted to laugh again or cry, and reached out to touch the beast’s downy fur.
Mine. The rawerah was really mine. I’d never had a pet and never dreamed of owning a prehistoric zoo animal.
“You are satisfied?” Teyan asked.
“Yes. Very. He’s beautiful.” This time, I meant it, because I understood what the cat represented. “I’m so sorry I was …” gone. It wasn’t the right word, but I didn’t really know what was. “It took me a while to go back to the portal and then I had to wait for someone to come through.” I braced myself to hear that I’d scarred him horribly, as I did my mom and all her family, with my disappearance. “I’m sorry, Teyan.”
“Do not fear. I knew you would return eventually.”
“You did?” I asked skeptically and traced my fingertips down the cheek of the rawerah.
“I tried to find you for two years. I went through the portals to the five worlds we knew and found one we didn’t,” he said, amused. “No one could return to your planet, but I knew if you could find a way to mine, we would meet again. We will always meet again.”
Always? I didn’t ask how he could be so sure. His nonchalant claim of discovering a new world amazed me, but it was clear he had no interest in it. He had been trying to find me, and not even ending up on a new world mattered.
What struck me harder was the idea I wasn’t the only one who felt our connection. He believed I’d come to find him, even after ten years, because he would do the same for me.
If not for my mom, would I have ventured into his world? Sure, I had considered it, but would I ha
ve followed through?
I didn’t know, and it made me feel horrible standing there with my rawerah beside someone who saw something in me I didn’t.
“I am sorry to meet again under these circumstances,” Teyan said. “Your mother was taken by a Nidiani?”
“Yeah.” I glanced up at him, unable to fathom what he must have been thinking when he spent so much time looking for me. It pained me to consider he spent two years worried, and it likewise thrilled me to believe he’d wanted to give me a rawerah so I wouldn’t be scared anymore. “I’m still not certain it’s right for me to ask for your help. You have a war to fight.”
“It is right,” he said simply. “It is our way.”
“I heard about your brothers and sister. I don’t want to make this more difficult for you.” I didn’t know how to finish the thought.
Teyan looked away, and I saw the sorrow in his gaze. “It is the cost of leading our people into battle,” he said. He rubbed the rawerah’s mane, and the cat arched its neck for more. “There are six noble families on Tili marked by purple.” He motioned to his tattooed features. “I am the head of one, now that my father and brothers are gone. It is my duty to lead our tribe into battle.”
Surprised, I met his gaze.
“I am not poor,” he said, the familiar edge in his tone.
I smiled despite my concern. “I never cared if you were,” I told him. I had offended a Tili noble greatly without knowing it.
We settled once more into thick silence. I wasn’t certain which was more impressive to me, the cat or the man. My attention was split between them to the point I was barely aware of my thoughts and completely unable to manage my emotions. I didn’t want to say something stupid, couldn’t handle learning he either cared or didn’t care about me, and so said nothing.
“The rawerah is telepathically connected to you,” Teyan spoke after a while. “He can feel what you do and knows you are in danger, no matter how far apart you may be. You can give him commands in your head, too, and he will respond without question, unless your command puts you in danger.”
