I wanted this,she reminded herself.I chose this.
The kiss still burned on her lips. She could feel the ghost of Njkall’s hands at her waist, the crack in his voice when he’d pulled away, and the promise in the air between them.When we come home.She held onto those words like a talisman, a bright point of light to focus on when the darkness crept too close.
“There are a lot of ships,” Tess said, her voice flat and controlled in the way that meant she was barely holding herself together.
She followed the other woman’s gaze. The landing field sprawled at the town’s edge, a broad expanse of packed earth and stone kept clear of snow by heating elements buried beneath the surface. Five ships sat there now—an official Fleet vessel, a smalltrader, two boxy cargo haulers with scarred hulls and peeling paint, and something sleek and predatory, all sharp angles and dark metal. As she watched, a ramp lowered from the nearest hauler and figures began to emerge.
Her stomach lurched.
Not that ship. Not those people. Different planet. You’re not there anymore.
“Polly?”
Njkall’s voice was low and steady in her ear, and she realized her hands had clenched into fists in her lap.
“I’m all right.” The words came out thin and unconvincing, and she tried again. “I’m all right. Just—give me a moment.”
He didn’t touch her, just sat there beside her with his presence warm and solid and available, exactly as he’d promised. She breathed. Slow counts in through her nose, out through her mouth, the way Cera had taught her in the early months when the panic had been a constant companion instead of an occasional visitor.
Tess made a small choked sound, and Polly turned to look at her. The other woman’s face had gone the color of old ash, her eyes fixed on something in the crowd near the landing field—a cluster of males from a species Polly didn’t recognize, their voices loud and overlapping as they haggled over cargo prices. One of them laughed, a harsh barking sound, and Tess flinched like she’d been struck.
Focus on her,she thought.She needs me. That’s something I can do. That’s something outside my own head.
“Tess,” she said softly. “Tess, look at me.”
Tess’s eyes dragged towards her, white-rimmed with fear.
“They’re not looking at us,” she said. “They don’t know we’re here. They wouldn’t care even if they did. They’re arguing about shipping rates, that’s all. Shipping rates and cargo manifests and whether someone owes someone else money.” She reached out, slowly, and laid her hand over Tess’s where it gripped her own thigh. “We’re going to Baralt’s house. It’s quiet there. His mate is human, like us. Her name is Izzie. She makes terrible tea but she’ll offer it anyway because she’s kind.”
A muscle jumped in Tess’s jaw. “How do you know that? That they’re not looking at us?”
“Because I’ve been here before.” Polly squeezed her hand. “I was terrified, and I spent most of that visit pressed against Njkall’s side trying not to cry. But I watched everything, because I needed to know what was dangerous and what wasn’t. And I learned that most of them—” She gestured at the crowded streets ahead. “Most of them don’t care. We’re just two small females with a very large Hothian escort, and that makes us someone else’s problem.”
Tess stared at her, and something shifted behind her eyes—not belief, not yet, but the possibility of belief. A crack in the wall.
“You were scared?”
“Terrified,” she repeated. “I’m scared right now. Can’t you tell?”
Tess looked at her and she let her look without trying to hide the tremor in her hands or the tightness around her mouth. She let her see the fear that she’d stopped trying to hide because hiding it took energy she couldn’t spare.
“You don’t look scared,” Tess said. “You look calm.”
“It’s not real.” She managed a small crooked smile. “Inside I’m screaming. But I’ve learned that screaming doesn’t help, and moving does. So I move. And I focus on something else when I can. Right now I’m focusing on you.”
The sleigh turned off the main approach road onto a narrower side street. The buildings here were larger and spaced further apart, solid and weathered, with snow piled thick on their sloped roofs and smoke curling from their chimneys, and the street was quiet. Some of the tension drained from her shoulders.
“Baralt’s house is just ahead,” Njkall said, and she recognized the high stone wall surrounding the house. “Izzie should be watching for us.”
As if summoned by the words, the gates swung open and a short, curvy woman with golden skin and dark curls came rushing out.
“About time,” she said. “I’ve been staring out the window like a dog waiting for its owner. Baralt is already inside—come in before you freeze.”
The sleigh slid to a stop. Njkall climbed down first, then turned and offered her his hand. She took it, and let him steady her as she stepped onto the packed snow, and then moved aside so he could help Tess. He reached up to help the other woman, but she ignored his hand and climbed down herself, her eyes darting to the street’s shadows.
Izzie ushered them inside.
The house hadn’t changed much since the last time she’d been here, still warm and welcoming with a fire crackling in a broad hearth and colorful woven hangings on the stone walls. A massive Hothian male rose from a chair near the fire and seemed to take up half the available space just by existing.
