“I can tell you’ve done this a few times.” I raise an eyebrow. My heart pounds with adrenaline and relief.
“Even better, look at this.” She gets down on her knees and scoops dirt with her hands. “Eggs. Take these, too. We can hatch and breed them on Zandia.”
“Thank veck we brought you,” I mutter. Without her guidance we’d never have found the serpents and eggs this quickly. “Each time, you surprise me with your ingenuity.” By the one true Zandian star, I swear this human does something fantastic every time we ask.
But I’m anxious to get her back to safety. None of us are secure here, and it’s critical we leave before any being knows we’ve been on the planet.
As we approach our ship, Taisha looks back over her shoulder. Like she’s wishing against hope that she could see her friends just once.
I touch her arm. “This is the way to help them. The only way.” Veck, if it were possible, I’d love to slaughter all of the Ocretion overlords here and save each and every human.
This is not the time.
“I know. I just… hope they’re all right,” she whispers. The longing in her gaze makes me want to draw her into my arms.
But my brave human squares her shoulders and starts to step up to the threshold and that’s when an Ocretion steps out from behind the wing of our craft.
My sword flashes out at the same time I sweep my leg under his feet to knock him to the ground. As he falls, I realize he’s slight in stature. Small for an Ocretion. The tip of my blade finds its mark, just below the male’s chin.
“No. Wait!” Taisha’s voice rings out, loud and true. The other warriors with me have all drawn swords and laser guns. The Ocretion stands no chance against us, and from what I can tell, he appears to be alone.
“Hold your weapons. Don’t hurt him,” Taisha calls. Her voice is so confident, so pure. I’ve never heard her like this. And standing there, with her dark curls around her head like a halo, her glorious form straight and tall, she’s like some goddess out of ancient mythology.
“You have no authority…”
I cut off Domm. “Let her speak.” I have no authority either; he’s the captain. But I don’t doubt her.
“Do you know this guard, Taisha?” She comes to stand beside me, her body brushing mine.
“He’s not a guard. He’s the son of my master.”
“The young you told me about?”
“Yes. He’s the only living being who saw me leave Romon-3. He’s not going to hurt us.”
“How can you be so sure?” Domm asks.
“I trust her judgment.” It is as much a shock to me that an Ocretion knew she left Romon-3. This is what she was keeping from me. But I also know how much she values her bond with Leylah.
“I trust her.” And it’s true. I know in my heart that Taisha is a good being. If she kept this a secret, it must be for a reason.
“His name is Marshan. I saved his life once, and then he saved mine. He let me escape from Romon-3 and kept my secret. He covered for me.” She steps forward and offers her hand to the Ocretion. “I do not believe he means us harm.”
“All Ocretions mean us harm. It is a trick or a mistake if you think otherwise,” Mirelle says, clearly speaking from her own experience.
“I agree. We cannot follow your gut on this one.” Domm backs up his mate.
My own instincts align with Taisha’s, but logic makes me unsure.
“I am not here to stop you.” The young speaks Ocretion, but with a strange musical undertone. When I look closer, I see a hint of otherness around the eyes, which are oddly blue and more oval than typical Ocretion features.
“Marshan.”
“Taisha.”
The two of them stare at each other, and all of us hold our breaths.
“What are you doing here?” Domm demands.