One of the females had been leaving him a trail, one he fully intended to follow. Tracking scent was difficult on the wild plains of Luxiria, but she had left him a path, an opening.
Circling high over the network of the five different trails, Cruxan kept his eyes scanning for a lone piece of light cloth.
It took him a while, but he found it. He didn’t bother lowering his hovercraft back down to the earth, but rather he zoomed over the trail that had been placed in the sand, hurtling west. He couldn’t be that much farther behind them, but he saw nothing in the distance up ahead.
Cruxan was determined, however. He was determined to find them by nightfall and then he would return them to the Golden City, to safety.
Nothing would stop him.
When Cruxan was a youth,he thought it was normal for other Luxirians to see the things he did, smell the things he did, hear the things he did, feel the things he did.
Compared to other races, Luxirian senses were strong. Very strong.
But Cruxan’s were even stronger.
He could smell the Luxirian sea from the Golden City if the wind was strong and direct. He could see almost as well in complete darkness as he did in full sunlight. He could hear the moans and cries of breeding partners from five levels down in the Golden City. And touch? It felt divine, like electricity over his skin.
It was why, just as night was falling over the planet, just as he spied the towering trees of a forest he’d never seen before, in a place of the wild lands he’d never been, Cruxan knew he’d found them.
Jaxor’an was smart enough not to build a fire in the darkness of night, even shielded through the thick canopy of white, mossy trunks and vines. But the moon was dark that night and he used a lantern, barely lit, flickering blue, instead of a fire.
It was his mistake. If anyone other than Cruxan was tracking them, Jaxor’an wouldn’t have been discovered. But Cruxan had seen the light over a mile away, as small as it was.
Cruxan powered down his hovercraft a safe distance away from the forest, eyeing the density of it, how it gave way to another of Luxiria’s harsh mountain ranges. He was unfamiliar with this land and that put him on his guard.
He would have to go on foot from there, in order to avoid attracting the Luxirian’s attention.
But it was a quick journey. The black sand soon gave way to moss, softening his foot falls and speeding his progress even more. He wound around heavy, ancient trunks, stepped over the rot of vines and mushy fruit from the trees that overwhelmed his nostrils with its sickly, sweet smell. He could hear the grating whispers of the old trees, but he tried to drown them out, focusing on the single light in the distance.
It wasn’t much longer before he was upon them.
And that scent, even hidden under the nauseating stench of the old forest, hit him square in the chest. His brows drew together, but he blocked it out, drawing his dagger from the sheath at his hip with a silent movement, studying the scene before him, hidden behind dark, spilling vines.
Jaxor’an.
The Prime Leader had been right.
He was sitting across the clearing from Cruxan’s position, crouched over the lantern, a lantern that looked to be ofLopixanstyle, Vikan’s outpost towards Luxiria’s coast. Had he been there as well, stealing?
Next, Cruxan’s eyes sought out the females, whose backs were to him. One had dark hair and the other…the other had hair like gold.
His pupils widened, something jolting down his spine, when he realized it washerscent. The one he’d noticed outside the dwelling on the terrace. The one he’d followed all the way there.
She was hunched over, her spine curled, as if trying to make herself as small as possible and something within his chest raged with torment at the sight.
Cruxan drew in a ragged breath, which was thankfully stifled enough as not to attract Jaxor’an’s attention. He shook his head, trying to shift the heaviness that was suddenly pressing on his mind.
Something was wrong. Something felt wrong inside him, but he couldn’t determine what exactly it was.
As though through a haze, he watched the golden-haired female, watched as her head turn ever so slightly until her delicate profile came into view. Her neck tilted to look behind her, her pink lips turned down into a frown.
Stunned, Cruxan watched, as she looked directly at him. She blinked, brows furrowing.
It hit him suddenly. Once, when he’d been younger, he’d foolishly jumped off a high boulder near his outpost, spurred on by the dares of his older peers. The distance had been too high, but he’d jumped regardless, determined to land on his feet, to show them all he could.
Except, he hadn’t landed on his feet. He’d landed straight on his chest, his face. He’d been bloodied and he’d had the air knocked right from his lungs. And he’d laid there, gasping into the earth, trying to make sense of what had just happened, but the world returned to him, just as suddenly as it’d been taken away.
He felt like that now. All over again. He couldn’t breathe. A hand was squeezing the air from his lungs and he couldn’t replenish it fast enough. His reality had just become a strange place, a place he’d never been before.
