Dragon's Claim Read online

  Somehow, I make it through the falling rocks and to the shelter with Penelope, without being hit. Breathing quickly, I carefully slide Penelope off my shoulder.

  "Are you well?" I ask, scanning her body to be sure. "You were not hit?"

  She nods, her face pale, eyes full of fear as she looks back the way we came. I look too, seeing the shower of rocks now hitting the ground. Too many. If we had not found shelter so quickly...

  I take a deep breath, growing concern in my gut. Meteorite showers are unprecedented on Tajss. There have not been any in millennia.

  "Maybe...maybe this was why that nocturnal bird was out so early. Ormarr mentioned they act like that when storms are brewing," Penelope remarks, her voice shaky.

  I make an agreeing sound, distracted by my own thoughts, hearing her almost from a distance. When I focus on her face, I can see my worry is increasing her own sense of unease. There is no point in worrying her further. We need a distraction. Food is always a good one, especially in times of stress. It is as good an idea as any.

  "I will cook. We may as well eat while we must remain under shelter," I say in a level voice, attempting to project calm as I move to open my pack.

  She nods, her eyes leaving the meteorites to watch me.

  There is already a fire pit ready to go, no doubt left by the last Zmaj who took shelter here. I quickly start a fire, stoking it before I take out some of the meat we brought with us.

  "Have you seen meteorite showers here before?" Penelope asks as I set the meat over the fire to cook.

  "No," I respond. "This is the first time. I do not think there has ever been record of another."

  "Hmm." I hear her scribble something in her book. "How did you know about this place?"

  "It is a shelter often used by traveling Zmaj," I explain, attempting not to let my irritation at her fascination with her book show. I can see she is nervous and trying to cover the emotion, but those pages cannot fix everything.

  "What about the bird? Do you think..."

  She trails off as she finally looks away from the page and up at my face. Perhaps my irritation at the questions for her book are showing, because she clears her throat and closes it instead of finishing her question.

  Glancing over at the meat, she moves on to something else.

  "Is there something we can use to flavor the meat?" she asks hopefully, looking over at me.

  Relieved at the practical question, I immediately go on the hunt. The cave is shallow, with an extension built in front to expand the small enclosure. In a back corner, I find some dried herbs left in a basket, carefully preserved. I take them out, smell them, rub the leaves between my fingertips. They are safe, meant for cooking.

  "We can add these for flavor," I explain, rubbing my find on the meat.

  She nods, stepping closer to watch. I can see she's holding her tongue, wanting to ask more questions for her book, but she does not ask them. To avoid irritating me? I grin at her.

  "Would you like to know what it is?" I tease.

  Her face lights up and she nods enthusiastically, letting her questions burst out. I answer them, enjoying the animated look on her face, curiosity deepening her gorgeous eyes. Suddenly, I find I do not mind the questions so much. It doesn't take long for the meat to cook, the herbs adding a delicious fragrance to the small space as our voices parry back and forth.

  "Smells good," Penelope remarks with a smile as I hand her a piece.

  I nod, taking a serving myself.

  "What kind of food did you have on Earth?" I ask, curious as I bite into the meat.

  She swallows her own bite before continuing.

  "Most of what I know is from movies and television shows," she admits. "Fiction. But we had approximations on the ship. I particularly liked fried chicken—a type of bird coated in batter and cooked in oil. Not the healthiest of food, I'll admit, but really very delicious." She tilts her head to the side. "But that's only one kind of food and Earth was a large planet with many different countries and cultures. My favorite kinds of food apart from the chicken were Chinese food, Italian, Mexican...I really miss salsa."

  I could hear the true longing in that last bit, and I did not want her to dwell on it. She could not change her location after all.

  "What else did you have on the ship?" I prod, wanting to move her on to something happier.

  Her face brightens immediately.

  "Oh, we had games, different from chess and checkers—games you play on a screen. Ones like Mortal Kombat, Halo..."

  She continues to talk about the fun ways to occupy time on their ship—a necessity, I am sure, since they could not go outside. The light from the fire flatters her pretty face as she continues to chatter happily. The smell of the food, the soft light, her memories of the ship, all of it improves the mood, distracting us as much as possible from the meteorite showers.

  She is so enthusiastic about her memories of the ship, I find myself wishing I could see it in all its glory. Perhaps play a game of Mortal Kombat with Penelope. It sounds utterly ridiculous. I wonder what it would be like to have metal arms. Or four arms. How much more could I do with double the arms? An odd but interesting thought.

  Once we finish eating, I set up a pallet for Penelope so she can be comfortable.

  "Thank you," she murmurs when I tell her it is for her. I give her a nod.

  "We will find a bathing place once the storm passes," I add.

  After the heat of travel and then the fear of the meteorite shower, a bath sounds nice, and I know Penelope likes them.

  "That would be wonderful," she agrees, smiling at me.

  I smile back, a little surprised at her response, though I am pleased by it. It is a nice change. She seems warmed by the way I take control, even though it is at odds with her independent instincts. Perhaps she has also softened towards me because I have not pushed for mating? I cannot say for certain. But no matter the reason, I will continue to treat her without that pressure, just as I promised myself I would.

  However, keeping my distance from her has not become any easier. In fact, it is getting more difficult the longer I spend alone in her company, caring for her. Learning more about her. Still, I know I will manage it all the same. My patience will see me through. I continue chatting with her as I set up my own sleeping area, a respectable distance away.

  She seems to love what she calls "pop culture," which I realize is short for popular culture. Interesting idea. I thought culture simply...was.

  "...and one of my favorite shows is called Black Mirror. It's so good! I started watching it and then couldn't stop. Even though they're not exactly upbeat episodes, generally speaking."

  I know at this point that a show is like a movie and both are stories told with moving pictures.

  "You enjoy it even though they make you...sad?" I ask, trying to understand.

  She laughs at my perplexed expression.

  "I guess. Though maybe sad isn't the word...unsettled maybe? But yes, I still enjoy them because they're just so clever, you know?"

  I must not look like I do, because she immediately launches into a detailed explanation of one of the episodes.

  "I'll tell you about one that doesn't end too badly," she starts.

  She lays out the story of a petty man who reproduces those who have wronged him in a fake reality based on another fictional show so that he can exact his revenge and feel like a king. I am glad the main female discovers a way to end their torture, especially when the villain reproduces a child.

  "It is clever," I agree. "Though I do not know if I would enjoy anything but the end of it," I add honestly.

  "Understandable," she acknowledges with a smile that slowly fades. "It isn't for everyone."

  Again, I can hear the longing in her tone for all that is lost. It tugs at my heart. She herself feels lost, is clearly struggling simply to function, to find her role here in her new reality. This is why she has been attempting to be a co-leader in a terrain she is not capable of handling alone.


  I can certainly relate to feeling lost. The Devastation changed our entire way of life. I can see why she is having a difficult time as she attempts to fit in here. The idea of helplessness, the sense of dependency it creates, is completely at odds with her deep need for self-sufficiency.

  Although everything familiar to her is gone, I feel like she has spent much of her life filling a hole inside herself with activity, long before she ever crashed here. I do not know the origin of that emptiness, but it must have been something traumatic. Something that must be addressed so she can be free of it. I worry at that thought as our talk finally slows, pauses increasing. When she yawns, I tell her to lie down.

  "We will be traveling again tomorrow," I remind her. "You need your rest."

  She nods, lying down without an argument, the air between us far more peaceful than it was in the city before we left. I think I am starting to understand her better.

  I move over to lie down on my own pallet, closer to the edge of the cave so I am between Penelope and any potential danger.

  I keep watch for a bit, but the night is quiet, and tomorrow will be difficult enough without some sleep. So I finally lie down and close my eyes as well. Unfortunately, that is a mistake.

  My eyes snap open at an unusual noise, a snuffling of some kind from inside the cave. Penelope lets out a yelp just as I jump to my feet and turn towards the sounds. It is a vregvan, one of small, leathery creatures that often live in caves. And it is going through our food satchels!

  Cursing, I run towards it. It sees me coming and runs away quickly, its pointy nose twitching, mouth full of meat. I attempt to grab it, but it is too fast, slipping between my legs and rushing out into the night. It is not worth following it.

  "What was that?" Penelope asks, on her feet now as well.

  "A vregvan," I say, crouching to take in the mess of the satchels.

  "Looks like we've been looted while we slept," Penelope observes, sighing as she surveys the damage.

  I nod as I go through the previously full bags. There is barely anything left of our travel provisions—and we can't eat the food Rosalind sent for the New Village. Penelope comes to the same conclusion I do.

  "We're going to have to hunt," she states, no question in her voice.

  "Yes," I agree. "Hunting is now a requirement for the rest of the journey." It is likely to delay us significantly.

  "You have to teach me how," Penelope orders, her tone already on the offensive. "I know I can help. I know there are some small creatures I can handle."

  I sigh, rising from my crouch.

  "Yes, there are small creatures. But they are no less deadly for their size," I retort.

  I refuse to feed into her need to prove herself, especially when it would put her in jeopardy. I start to prepare to head outside as Penelope continues to argue with me. I refuse to engage with her on this. It is not negotiable. But then she says something that catches my attention.

  "Is it because I'm a woman?" she demands, her chin raised proudly. "Is that why you won't teach me how to hunt?"

  I growl. What a preposterous assumption! I give her a flat look as I lay out the facts.

  "It is not because you are a woman—it is because you are human. Humans are soft. Even your men are unfit to hunt most of the creatures on Tajss."

  Her cheeks flush and her jaw clenches. The mutinous expression on her face tells me she doesn’t like that reason.

  "That is ridiculous. And on our world, many of the women are stronger than the men," she adds, righteous indignation in her tone.

  "I do not doubt it, but it’s irrelevant. This is not your world; this is Tajss. Teaching you to hunt would put you in danger. I will not do that. And that is final."

  She opens her mouth, but then closes it again, stepping back even as she retreats into herself, looking away. I sigh, softening despite myself. I do not like when she is angry with me. She is the danger for me. But...perhaps a small compromise will not hurt.

  "I will offer you a compromise." She turns to look at me, her gaze wary. "I will teach you the basics in theory. Not on the sands. For your book." I gesture at it, resting on her pallet.

  She does not look impressed with the compromise as she shrugs and looks away. But it is the best I can do.

  "I will be back," I say when she does not fill the silence. I linger at the edge of the cave. "You will be safer here. Do not leave the enclosure."

  She does not respond. I hesitate, but then finally step out. I do not like leaving her alone, but there is no alternative.

  I will hurry.

  Chapter Seven

  Penelope

  I sit down on my pallet and wait for Bashir to come back. Demoted to being the helpless one. Again. Feeling too restless to stay there, I jump to my feet and start pacing. I hate having to depend on Bashir like this. I hate feeling like I have to be taken care of, that I can't take care of myself. Though I really can't deny that reality at the moment, can I?

  Oh, it stings.

  Logically, I know forcing Bashir to take me with him would probably just slow him down, but when am I going to get a chance to learn how to hunt? Every time I ask any of them to teach me, I get turned down! How can I stop being helpless if nobody will teach me?

  I hear an odd sound and turn towards it, my heart picking up the pace. Was that another weird animal? I freeze as I listen, but I don't hear anything again.

  Moving back to the pallet, I sit down with my back to the wall, so I can see everything. Again, made acutely aware of just how vulnerable I am here and how much I hate it. I sigh, grabbing my book to make some notes. At least it gives me something to do while I wait, instead of driving myself crazy with every stray sound or working myself up even more. I don't know how long Bashir is gone, but it isn't as long as I might have predicted. He's good at this. He shows up with meat that's already ready to carve up, hauling it to the back of the enclosure as I scramble to my feet to follow him.

  "That was fast," I remark.

  He grunts, setting the meat down. I want to contribute in at least some way, and I don't want him to refuse my help again, so I grab the extra knife at his side and start cutting before he can stop me. I feel him hesitate, but he doesn't say anything as he uses his main blade to do the same. Maybe it's silly, but working side by side with him makes me feel a little better, like I've vindicated myself in some odd way.

  We cook and eat the meat quickly, packing everything up directly afterwards.

  The meteorite shower delayed our journey, as has the pilfering of our supplies, but the trip isn't so time sensitive that it should be that much of an issue.

  "I know a place to bathe that is not far from here," Bashir remarks, finally breaking the silence. "We will go there before continuing on with our journey."

  I nod. A bath sounds heavenly. I'll follow Bashir blindly if it means I'll get a bath at the end. When we leave our snug enclosure, the suns are again beating down onto the sand, the temperature already rising, but I'll take it over the meteorites any day.

  I squint up at the sky to be sure I don't see signs of any more deadly, flaming rocks, but it is clear and blue. They've passed, at least for now.

  We walk for a bit, but then Bashir stops to crouch and look at the ground. I look down as well to see what has caught his eye and realize it's one of the sites where an meteorite hit the sands. Frowning, I lean in. The heat of the meteorite created a sheet of clear glass, melting the sand. It's actually quite pretty.

  I turn to say something to Bashir, but pause as he lowers his head, his eyes slipping closed. He stays that way for a moment, and then a bit longer. What is he doing?

  Without warning, he raises his fist and brings it down in a powerful move to break the glass. The shattering crack of the blow makes me jump a little in response. I wince when I see the glass shards, but he doesn't appear to be harmed, and he gathers them up, wrapping them carefully in a smaller pack without explanation. All right then. Maybe I'll ask what that was about later, but ri
ght now all I can focus on is the promise of a bath.

  I wipe my brow and follow Bashir again as he continues to lead us, confident in our direction. However, I soon find out that “close by” must mean something different for Bashir than it does for me. We walk for hours before I see the small oasis we must be aiming for, with what looks like another small enclosure built there to provide shade over the water. By this point, I'm covered in new sweat over old from the blistering hot sun. Just walking into the shade is a relief.

  I'm holding up well enough for now not to need another dose of epis quite yet, but I know from the interviews I've done that we need to ration it with care—or it could mean death. Another lovely aspect of Tajss. Seems like everything here has the potential to kill me.

  My eyes adjust to the dim interior slowly. When they finally do, the sight of the spring at the center almost makes me want to cry. Water has never looked so good. All I want to do is take off my sweaty clothes and jump right in.

  I glance over at Bashir and bite my lip. I can't bring myself to ask him to wait outside for me to bathe. The heat is a lot for him too, and it feels beyond selfish to ask that of him. Maybe if he could just look away so I could get in first...

  Before I can ask, he turns his back silently. Again, I'm reminded what a gentleman he is.

  "Thank you," I murmur, undressing quickly.

  I slip right into the water with a moan of pleasure, the shade of the enclosure keeping the spring noticeably cooler than the temperature outside. Oh, it feels so good to wash the sweat away!

  Bashir waits until I'm fully in the water to turn around. He strips without any appearance of modesty. He seems like he has no qualms about stripping naked in front of me, though I do avert my eyes.

  Well...I mostly avert my eyes. I admit I sneak a quick peek as he steps into the spring after me. The light is dim, but I can make out his impressive musculature. It's difficult to miss. He reminds me of one of those superheroes in the vintage movies about comic books. Like Thor or Captain America maybe, with the addition of his dragon qualities of course. He is a tower of strength from head to toe.