“Weshouldcooperate with these people.” Baleck raised his arm enough to peek at me from beneath it. “They could help us find the others. They know the terrain, the weather patterns. And they clearly have resources we don’t.”
“Yes, or they could kill us if they decide we’re not worth keeping around.” I kept my voice low, aware that guards stood just outside our door. “I prefer having backup plans.”
“Such as?”
“Working on it.” I’d been cataloging everything since we arrived. Guard rotations, building layouts, possible escaperoutes. Not because I planned to run, exactly. More because knowing Icouldmade captivity slightly more bearable.
A knock on the door cut off anything Baleck might have said next. Not the usual guard check, which happened every few hours. This was different. More formal.
The door opened before either of us could respond. Rezor stepped inside, followed by two guards who took up positions flanking the entrance. His eyes swept the room, lingering on me for a moment before moving to assess Baleck and the sleeping Mierva.
“You’ve eaten,” he said. Not a question.
“Yes,” I replied. My translator had been working overtime, processing every scrap of D’tran conversation it could pick up. The result was that Rezor’s words came through clearer now, and my responses sounded less like a toddler learning to speak. “Food was good. Thank you.”
Something that might have been satisfaction crossed his face. “Good. You are well?”
“Well enough.” I stood, brushing crumbs from my borrowed tunic. “What can we do for you, Lord Rezor?”
His eyes shifted to that fuchsia color they took on whenever he looked at me too long. I tried not to think about what that meant. Tried not to remember the conversation about sacred marks and destined mates.
“I will show you the settlement,” he said. “You and Baleck. It’s time you understood where you are and what we’ve built here.”
“A tour?” I glanced at Mierva’s sleeping form. She stirred but didn’t wake. “What about—”
“She rests. Erith says the bone will heal well if she doesn’tmove it for several days. Let her sleep.” He gestured toward the door. “Come.”
It wasn’t really a request. Baleck and I exchanged glances. He shrugged and stood, his skin patterns shifting to something that looked like cautious interest.
I sent a quick message to Mierva’s wrist comm:Gone on tour of settlement with Rezor. Back soon. Don’t panic.
Then I followed Rezor out into the corridor, Baleck close behind.
Four more guards waited outside, forming a loose perimeter around us as we walked. Not threatening, exactly, but definitely present. A reminder that we were guests under supervision, not free to wander.
We stepped out into late afternoon sun that slanted through the valley, painting everything in shades of gold and amber. The air was warm but not hot, with a breeze that carried the scent of growing things and cooking fires.
The buildings were a mix of stone and wood and mismatched metal, clearly gotten from salvaged wrecks, built with an eye toward function and durability rather than decoration. But there was beauty in their simplicity. The way they seemed to grow organically from the landscape, following the natural contours of the hillside. The softly curved doorways and windows reminded me of something.
People stopped to stare as we passed.
Some watched with open curiosity, eyes shifting through colors I was learning to associate with different emotions. Others hurried away, pulling children close or ducking into doorways. The suspicion was palpable and impossible to miss.
I understood it. We were aliens, here. We were scary intruders. Unknown. Potentially dangerous. Everything their isolated society had taught them to fear.
But understanding didn’t make it comfortable.
“They’re afraid,” I said to Rezor, keeping my voice low.
“Yes.” He didn’t try to deny it. “Change is frightening. Especially when it arrives without warning.”
“We didn’tmeanto change anything. We just crashed.”
“Intent matters less than impact.” He led us down a main thoroughfare, past workshops where I could see people working metal and wood, past what looked like a communal kitchen, past children playing some kind of game with carved wooden pieces. “You are here. That changes everything.”
As we walked, I took in the layout of the streets, designed for efficient movement and defense. The way water flowed through channels cut into the stone paving, creating a drainage system that was elegant in its simplicity. The guard posts at regular intervals, always manned, always watching.
These people had built something remarkable here. A functioning society in complete isolation, protected by geography and maintained through careful planning and resource management.
