“Minait,” Pertin whispered. He had always been the peacekeeper in the family.
Regi hated seeing his parents fall into the old roles. He had been gone for years, yet Rel glared at Regi in defense of his wife and Pertin was trying to soothe the raised hackles.
“All sentient creatures believe what they have evidence for, and on other planets, what they called gods were fictional constructs used to help primitive people understand natural phenomena. If all other planets have one definition of god, we cannot fault them for believing that reasonable.”
“If the story you just told is correct,” Minait said, pausing to study Regi, “then the outsiders have been provided an excess of evidence to change their minds, just as the exalteds were provided evidence that Dante is one of Divashi’s favorites. They changed their opinion.”
Regi gritted his teeth. The exalteds had not changed their minds—or most of them had not, anyway. During the debate, too many wished to continue the policy of driving away or killing outsiders who violated the Empire’s boundary. At best they had created a new category in their minds. They now divided sapient creatures into Kowri, outsiders, and Dante. That was not the same as accepting new evidence. However, he could not shout such truths. His parents would not hear them.
“Outsiders and Kowri alike are slow to accept new truths,” he said.
Pertin interrupted him. “Is that the most important topic to discuss? Regi, I have missed you greatly.” Pertin opened his arms.
For one second, Regi maintained his distance. He didn’t want to be folded back into a family that required him to believe as they did. But he had missed Pertin’s warmth more than any other part of his childhood. He missed sitting on a bench and sanding wood smooth while his da-father carved complex figures and explained how to feel the hardening of the woods around the knots. He ached for his father’s touch, and that drove him into Pertin’s arms.
Regi held his da-father, breathing in the scent of wood and ash that always meant home to him.
“Regi,” his mother whispered. Regi turned, and his mother’s expression had softened. “I have worried. I have spent so long worrying.”
Pertin let go and Regi took a step back and tried to center himself. “I have worked hard to earn a good position in the Coalition. I have a rank equivalent to Bekdi a’Gavd, and I have responsibilities to my crew based on my position, even before my goddess guided my Coalition ship to an Empire world.”
She sighed.
Rel stepped closer and wrapped a hand around the back of Regi’s neck. “You cannot allow yourself even one step backward, even now. I am so grateful you are safe. Like your mother, I worried every day.” He pulled Regi closer, and Regi hugged his di-father, shocked to realize that he was larger than his father now. Pertin smiled at them, and Regi felt his mother’s hands on his shoulders. It felt right.
But it wasn’t. His mother was not his ally in the debate room, and he could not allow himself to forget that. He had an obligation to Ter, even if he wished he could return to being Regi de Minait que Pertin e Rel, a child too young to claim any god.
“Regi!” a panicked voice yelled. Regi pulled back to see Dante sprinting toward him. “Vk! Vk is gone! They say Bekdi took her!” he yelled.
Regi’s fur stood on end. “Who said this?” He jerked away from his parents.
“A Kowri who had come to give offerings to Ginger. He told me.”
Regi took a fraction of a second to translate Ginger to Jinja–goddess of the unknowable and a favorite of the Growing season temple. A devotee of Jinja would not lie. Ever. Not for Bekdi or even Gavd himself.
Dante’s breathing was so heavy that his upper body strained and surged with the effort to pull in enough oxygen.
“Stay here,” Regi ordered. The temple would be the safest place for him. Meanwhile, he needed to have words with Bekdi. Many unpleasant and loud words. He strode down the corridor, intent on reclaiming his crewmate and friend. And if his mother and her xenophobic ways stood in his path, he would go through her the same as he planned to go through Bekdi.
Chapter Eight
Dante scrambled after Regi, ignoring the presence of Regi’s parents behind him. He’d never had good luck with meet-the-parents events, and being on an alien planet had not improved his performance. So far, he felt as though he’d been standing around uselessly, watching Regi’s family implode.
He had so much experience with dysfunction he didn’t know why he was surprised to find one more version of it. Regi asked a Kowri woman if they had seen an outsider leading two pebafri, but she shook her head and rushed away. An older Kowri tending a food cart pointed them in a direction, and then children watching from second story windows told Regi to head for a narrow lane leading from the growing-season temple.
Street after street, Dante hurried after Regi with fear crawling up his throat. If these people did something to Vk, he would kill them. They were almost to the opposite end of the town when Dante’s feet started protesting. Alien boots were not made for walking.
Behind him, Regi’s mother and fathers whispered, and Dante ignored the growing fear at having potential enemies at his back. Instead, he focused on Regi. They turned a corner and ahead he saw a pyramid top above the roofs lining the lane.
The lane broadened, and Dante spotted Divashi’s Brown stripping low-hanging leaves from a tree. Dante broke into a trot, eager to find Vk and her ridiculous nose, which he’d grown quite fond of. Maybe Regi felt the same because he ran ahead. Ahalf second later, he spotted her standing next to Gimi a’Onidba. A few feet away, Bekdi a’Gavd glowered at an unfamiliar Kowri who carried a scanner of some sort.
Regi hesitated, catching Dante’s arm.
“The outsider appears safe,” Regi’s mother said.
If Dante’s father had used that tone, Dante would have assumed that was either disdain or dismissal. Perhaps both. He suspected the same was true of Regi’s mother, and Regi glared at her before he pulled Dante forward.
Unlike the calm greens of the growing-season temple or the icy grandeur of the cold-season one, this temple looked like a Thanksgiving table had thrown up all over the building. Reds and oranges and yellows filled every inch of the walls. He could see leaves and various fruits and vegetables in vivid plums and purples.
