I saw the exact moment his playfulness evaporated, likely dried up by thoughts of his roots on Albion 5—and the fact that he could never go back there.
An ache hatched in my chest, the muscles cramping uncomfortably.
Should I feel guilty?
No.
Did I?
Kind of…
The rawness inside me grew as I watched Shade move down the ladder. He’d given up more than his docks for me, hadn’t he? Home wasn’t something that could be quantified in buildings or wealth. It was so much more than that. He wouldn’t want me feeling guilty, though. If anyone took responsibility for his decisions, good or bad, it was Shade.
I breathed in deeply, expanding my lungs. “I think moving to Earth would feel like living in a cemetery—walking on bones and seeing ghosts.”
“I guess so.” He didn’t sound convinced, probably because he was used to walking beside the ghosts of his parents and watching the docking empire his family had built fall apart in the hands of Scarabin White. “Besides, there isn’t room on Earth for even a fraction of the population of a place like Sector 12, let alone the rest of the galaxy.”
“Well, I prefer theEndeavor. Or wherever Bonk is.”
He grinned up at me. “Miss your kitty?”
“Yes.”
“Me too,” I heard him say as he jumped off the ladder.
I rubbed my chest. That sudden burst of heat may or may not have been my heart melting. I chose not to analyze.
Shade held the ladder steady for me. I followed him to the ground, turned in triumph—I’d just successfully completed jungle obstacle number one, after all—and leaped to hug him a split second before a hard-coated insect bashed me in the head.
Screaming, I batted my arms and reeled back. Fast-moving wings hit my hand with a stinging thud. The insect buzzed louder and stayed in my face. Gold. Blue. Eyes all over its head! I swerved. It swerved. I ducked. It dropped.What the hell?It didn’t fly away. It banged straight into my head again because tangling in my hair wassosmart.
“Shade!” I yelled.
“Hold still.” He reached out with both hands and grabbed it. My hair clung to furry legs—multiplelegs—and Shade had to tug and detangle as I screeched in panic. He finally tossed the fist-sized insect skyward. It got the right idea this time and buzzed away from us in an upward spiral.
“What was that?” Frantically, I scrubbed my hands all over my face and head, trying to erase the feeling of fuzz and stick and flutter.
“Just a draakwing. Harmless. And dumb as shit, or it wouldn’t fly toward predators.”
“I’m not a predator.”
“To it, you are.” He waggled his eyebrows. “They’re tasty.”
“What? Ack! How do you know all these things?”
He smoothed back my hair, tucking the sweat-dampened strands toward my ponytail again. “I used to spend a lot of time here. I came every year with my parents for as long as I can remember. We’d stay at the resort for a few weeks—one of those Aisé bungalows. Until they died in that shuttle crash. I haven’t been here since then. Until now.”
“Every year?” My heart fumbled its next beat. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The memories must be tearing him up inside. But he loved it here—I could tell. That was the part he’d been showing me since yesterday.
He shrugged. “I didn’t want you to feel obligated to like it.”
“I love it.” My throat thickened.I love… I swallowed and bit my lip. “Did you come here for prayer at the temples?”
Shade nodded and moved up the bank. I followed him away from the river. A sign in the shape of an odd, pot-bellied animal with bushy eyebrows and a long black-and-white mustache pointed us uphill through the jungle.
“More for the outdoors but, yeah, prayer, too.” He held back an overgrown branch for me.
Ducking around it, I couldn’t hide my skepticism. “Why? What has the Sky Mother ever done for you? Where are her Powers? I mean, look at the state of the galaxy. I don’t see any evidence of positive and balancing forces at work.”
