At some point, Nasra’s eyes had begun to sparkle again. Zen shifted the piece of lumber in his arms, but even he seemed curious about Celise’s response. Moss was silent, but undoubtedly also waiting for her reply.
Hope, warm and dangerous, fluttered in Torian’s chest.
Vaesa could hold the key to everything—but “everything” was too big. For so many years, Torian had only been able to think about saving Celise—nothing else mattered when her sister could die tomorrow.
Only now was Torian able to acknowledge howexhaustingthat was.
It would be really, really nice to engage in her own mental health for a bit. Pursue somethingshewanted. Rest where she could. Enjoy a new community.
It sounded freeing.
When Celise glanced at her, she must have seen that etched in Torian’s face. Her expression softened, and she squeezed Torian’s arm. “I… I think I have to thank you, Tor. You did all this for me, and… it’s amazing. With Vaesa and this support system… I’d be a stubborn fool not to move here.”
“Well, you’re a stubborn fool most days, so—”
Celise smacked Torian’s arm.
Torian laughed, rubbing the spot, feeling light as a feather. “It’s the right choice, Lise.” Torian glanced around the residential ring, at the group of draics, at the empty townhouses and apartments, at the overgrown plants. “I think we can do a lot of good here.”
Zen chuckled, a grumbling sound that would have been a threat from anyone else. “Do you want to see your clinic, Doctor? It’s a mess.”
“Most clinics are,” Celise said cheerfully.
Together, Celise followed the aliens into her new home.
CHAPTER 25
The night stretched on, and firmly remained one of the best nights of Torian’s life.
Growing up, their family was small. Their father died when she and her sister were young. Their mother followed about a decade later, and then it was just Celise and Torian in that well-loved apartment on Colony 13. Torian eventually struck off to join the Fleet, making new acquaintances, but Celise had always been isolated.
Until tonight.
The tour of the townhouse was brief and enlightening. Nylarian interior design was fairly intuitive—spaces for eating, entertaining, sleeping—but there were also some surprises—like a sauna, a dedicated library, and a meditation corner. Since the nylarians had peacefully left the station, all furnishings and décor were still intact. Dusty, but usable.
Dutch couldn’t wait to show it off.
“We figured we’d renovate this space as the clinic.” He enthusiastically gestured at the lower level. The lumber was being used in a poor attempt to construct a counter and desk, presumably for medical equipment. Zen deposited his piece beside the others, and Torian truly couldn’t tell why Dutch had carried it outside in the first place.
It looked like Dutch had demolished a few stone walls, too (or was attempting it, based on the rubble). The result was a bigger first floor, and someone had hauled a couple beds inside the large room.
Celise scrutinized the space, the layout. There were a few faded pillows decorating one of the beds, a clear attempt to make it look presentable for her. A peculiar shine overtook Celise’s eyes, and she blinked it away.
Torian smirked knowingly.
Celise shot her a silencing look before saying, “I hate to break it to you, but until more humans arrive, this might be premature. I won’t be much help with draic anatomy.”
Zen chuckled. “I have a medic on staff. He’ll be happy to collaborate.”
“Happy?” Dutch interjected.
“Well.” Zen rubbed the back of his neck, behind his horns. “I’ll make sure he’s polite, at least.”
Celise raised an eyebrow. “Voranthir? We met him.”
“Ah.” Zen assessed her. “I’ll make sure he’s more polite next time.”
Celise waved a hand. “The point stands. This is lovely, but if our focus is research, a clinic seems excessive. At least until other humans arrive.”
