In her mind, she began drafting a plea to Kainan, Selene, Ki’Remi, and the Pegasi Joint Peace Coalition to fund the urgent repairs.
‘I can also add to the kitty,’ Idan said, holding out a reinforced obsidian box and handing it to Xian.
‘My friend, always so freakin’ generous,’ the Chief said as he opened the lid, and the radiance of a dozen unrefined diamonds illuminated his weathered face.
‘You’ll find enough to get you water tight,’ Idan rasped, his timbre a deep vibration in the midday heat.
‘Sante,’ Xian said, his voice thick with emotion. ‘It’s more than adequate, but it’s appreciated. I’ll send you detailed reports on how we utilize your funds, but know this, it means a hella lot; most of all the health, well-being, and sovereignty of Lattaya.’
‘Maybe we’ll name a ward in the new hospital after you, brother,’ Matteo grinned.
He turned to Sheba. ‘What we’re sorely lacking, however, is experienced staff.’
Sheba squeezed Matteo’s arm. ‘I’ll speak with Ki’Remi the moment we hit orbit. He and Issa manage a vast network of emergency personnel. I’ll ensure they dispatch a vanguard to help.’
‘Sante,’ Matteo beamed. ‘Now, you can’t visit Lattaya and not have a cup of tea.’
‘Are you making it?’ she teased. ‘Because I have reservations given the last time you attempted a pot of colored tepid water.’
‘Nada,’he laughed. ‘Some of the locals have been brewing it over the fire. It’s smoky and sweet.’
‘Then in that case,naam.’
After half an hour spent sharing gossip, sugared hot beverages, and biscuits still hot from a clay oven, the couple left with great reluctance.
As the corvette lifted away from the hills of Lattaya, Sheba stood at the observation port.
Her gaze remained on the dwindling figures of her friends until they became mere specks against the ocher dirt.
A surge of wistfulness rose in her soul, a phantom ache for the woman she had been when she first arrived in these wild mountains.
Idan’s arms moved around her from behind, his chest a solid, heated anchor against her spine.
He held her close, his chin resting atop her head as the ship breached the exosphere.
The silence between pulsed with a shared understanding that while their pasts were rooted in this soil, their future was written in Dunia’s skies.
The Corvette’s landing struts compressed the dry earth of the farmstead, the hull groaning as it settled into the dust of Idan’s farm.
He descended to the terrain below, the grit of the dirt crunching beneath his heavy boots as he prowled on, eager to rediscover his sanctuary.
Sheba walked beside him, drawing in the crisp, highland air.
‘Honey, the timber line,’ she noted, pointing toward the northern ridge. ‘We’ve got more saplings.’
‘The barn is still standing,’ Idan added, his gaze sweeping over the weathered wood. ‘The fences are intact. Someone’s been hard at work.’
‘Who’s there?’ a voice called out as a figure rounded the corner of the shed.
‘Master?’ came the shocked whisper.
A young man in worn leather overalls came to a skidding stop, staring at Idan and Sheba in shock.
Idan’s face wreathed into a genuine smile. ‘Lago. You’ve kept the place running. It’s as if I never left.’
The youthful farmhand sprinted forward, his face a map of visceral relief.
‘You returned! I got worried I’d never see you again. I came back after the snow melted and found the hut empty, but I stayed. The fences are fixed, and the seedlings are already in the dirt.’
