Page 29 of The Naga Wanderer’s Wounded Mate

Chapter 22

Jasmine

That night, by the fire, a celebration began. Things were different since the boy, Mess, had been rescued. I mean, not only had Ekkire figured out the “I love you” part of a relationship completely on his own, he stuck to my side like glue. Yet at the same time, it didn’t feel like I was being smothered. I liked the way his tail kept searching me out, touching me. It just felt like love.

Other changes were in the way the females gazed at me and the way the males now treated me. That was because Ilesekh, the male who’d led the charge before against humans, had now clearly changed his mind. Saving his son had done that, but I would have done it whether it changed his mind or not.

Dove and Hunter were guests of honor, supplied with the best and tastiest bits of meat throughout the evening. It hadn’t been missed by anyone that they’d played a pivotal role in rescuing so many of their people. Too many had still perished, but with their bodies recovered, they could be given a proper send-off. Even more miraculously, none of the settlement’s young had been lost in the end. It was worth celebrating.

An exhausted, pale, but smiling Ish thanked us for our help as he brought over cups of a potent alcoholic drink the naga liked to make. “Abseal? As a healer, I cannot recommend it, but it is tasty anyway,” he said, holding the wooden cups out to us like they were precious. I took mine and inhaled the fragrance, fruity and tangy. It came surprisingly close to wine, but carried a very serious kick. I’d only tried it once, when Haven’s own brewer of the stuff, Iave, handed it out. The naga males were not nearly as affected by it as humans were, but today I was willing to risk a little lowering of the inhibitions. Ekkire had my back.

“Thank you, my friend,” Ekkire said. The two bent their heads together to talk about the condition of Ish’s various patients. Ekkire was all glittering emerald, while Ish was as bright and sunny as a canary—yellow glittering like white gold at the edges, especially across the firm, wide arches of his cheeks. Gah, now I was beginning to realize how nice the guys were on this planet, and I was feeling extra mushy because I was pretty sure the nicest one was mine. Ekkire might not like company, or so he said, but he was meticulous about inquiring after the health and fate of everyone here.

“Oh, does your friend have a communicator? Could he reach one of the other Shamans, like Artek or Haven?” I asked. It had suddenly occurred to me that hoping a message on a kite had been found was enough to assure Haven’s hunters—and Jolene—that I was fine was a little silly. Sure, we had not had a huge amount of choice in the path we’d taken. Those Thunder Rock warriors had blocked our path, but it would be an immense relief to Jolene if she knew I was truly fine. I wasn’t used to having anyone else care about my well-being.

The Shaman’s apprentice and healer did have such an object, though he had never tried to reach Haven with it before. After some fiddling, the best we discovered we could do was route a message through the Sun Fang Shaman, Keir. He could pass it on to the Shaman Council, and they could, in turn, reach Corin at Haven. Now we just had to hope the message of our survival and mating wasn’t lost in translation somewhere. Keir had been the surliest naga I’d ever heard speak, his narrow-eyed glare aimed at me, making it clear he shared Ilesekh’s sentiment about humans.

Just as that business was concluded, someone took up an instrument and people began dancing, some pairing off with their mates and disappearing into the dark. Ekkire was not a dancer, but when I pulled him into a slow dance, he quickly changed his mind, his body curling around me as the two of us swayed slowly to the music.

Younglings were also coming alive, bouncing back from the disaster with laughter and play. It might be nightfall, but nobody was sleeping yet. Instead, the kids were playing a game of tag with Hunter, who kept teasing them until they chased him around. Dove sat huddled on a throne of twigs, many of them found and brought to her by the settlement’s children. Her current favorite—an already recovered Mess, the child I’d saved—had been brought to her with shy reverence and an encouraging nod from his previously hostile father.

The father, Ilesekh, found us an hour later, after he’d tucked the boy tenderly into a nearby nest with plenty of furs to stay warm. “I think I need to share something important with you, both of you,” he said as he approached. He drew us away from the festivities, and we went quietly to a spot that offered some privacy from prying ears.

The change from hostile to accepting had started with the change in Ilesekh’s behavior. Since saving his son, his change of heart about me was obvious, and it had made even the females here act curious but distant. Perhaps it helped that I went armed everywhere, and I’d been invited to compete in some of the archery competitions earlier that evening, at the start of the festivities. I might not have won, but I definitely hadn’t done badly either. Human and small, I was not without fangs, as Ekkire had said.

“What is it?” Ekkire demanded when he deemed we’d gone far enough. He crossed his arms over his chest, hiding the clench of his fist that seemed to indicate he was ready to reach for his trident. Ekkire had a harder time letting go of his anger over the way Ilesekh had treated me. The Sun Fang hunter seemed to take it in stride, perhaps even expecting it.

“I lost my mate due to a piece of the skyship that carried all those humans here…” he said as he flicked his eyes from Ekkire’s tight fist to my face. The orange that marked his brow ridges made any expression look dramatic on his otherwise deep brown face. It caught the distant light of the bonfire and flickered back like flames. “It made me furious, hostile to the newcomers, and… I rashly blamed her death on the sky beings. I see now that was wrong. Ishmakah told me you were victims too, drawn to Serant by powers beyond our understanding…”

I nodded, agreeing even though I knew the truth was more nuanced and would be less to his liking if he knew. If he thought we were convicts, outcasts condemned by our own people, he would not consider our arrival so innocent. That I was sure of. Guiltily, I realized I had not told Ekkire about it either, but of him I had no doubt he wouldn’t care. I could tell him everything, and he’d still believe in me and our future together. That certainty made me smile, even though Ilesekh’s next words were much grimmer.

“After word reached us that Sun Fang assisted Haven in protecting the sky beings last winter… I set out to avenge my mate. I mustered a party of males at Sun Fang’s main settlement with Shaman Keir’s help, then I left Mess here at the outpost with a friend. We met up with Thunder Rock to raze the sky wreck.” He paused and looked away, toward the fire and the nest where his small son was sleeping peacefully. “Msera leads them, and he’s a fanatic. He even dug up a relic from an ancestral cave he believes will ensure the wreck’s total destruction.”

Cold dismay settled into my gut as I considered what kind of relic he could be talking about. A bomb? Was there such a thing just lying around? The more I thought about it, the more I considered it was likely. Hadn’t they still been digging up the occasional World War bomb from cities and forests in old Europe nearly a millennium later?

Ilesekh lowered his chin horn to his vulnerable throat and dipped into what could only be called a bow in front of me. “I am very sorry it took me so long to see the value in having new neighbors, in sharing this world with sky beings such as you, Jasmine. I believe Msera might succeed with this relic. I saw it once; it was big and had glowing lights, indicating it still worked…”

Oh God, that sounded bad. It could still be nothing, but if Thunder Rock really had a bomb, and they planned to use it to blow up the crashed ship? We had to warn them. “You are certain?” Ekkire asked for me, his hand reaching out to snap to Ilesekh’s shoulder and pin him in place. “Where did they plan to set it off? Do we have time to get there to warn them?”

“I…” Ilesekh seemed to brace himself, then shook his head. “I don’t know. Perhaps? Msera and his group were in much more disarray than we were after the earthquake. They were only a dozen, and he tried to convince me to stay. So perhaps they were banking on our numbers to help deliver it?” No doubt Ilesekh had been trying to get back to this outpost as quickly as possible, knowing his son was here. It made me think back, what little I remembered of it, and realize he’d been much more patient than I would have been when they paused so Ish could heal me.

“We must go right away. Can you spare any rations for the journey?” Ekkire said, his hand dropping from the Sun Fang warrior to find mine and gently squeeze. I was relieved it was not even a question to my sweet, loyal guy. He really had the biggest heart, always rushing off to help people or animals. I squeezed back, my heart overflowing and clashing with the horrible fear that we’d be too late to warn anyone.

“Ish needs to deliver another message,” I said as soon as Ilesekh assured Ekkire he’d have supplies and rushed off to get them. It would not surprise me if he took them from his own bag, and I vowed to check that it wasn’t going to cost small Mess a meal. We could hunt along the way if needed, or go hungry for a day or two.

With a nod, Ekkire and I went back to find the apprentice, drawing him away from the festivities the same way Ilesekh had taken us aside earlier. The news of a potential bomb rattled the bright-scaled male so much he fumbled as he located the ancient communication device. It nearly dropped between some awkwardly stacked rocks at my feet, but was rescued by a whip-fast flick of Ekkire’s tail. “Calm yourself, Ish. We can only do what we can. Call Keir, then call anyone you can reach.”

Ishmakah began with his teacher, as was no doubt expected of him, reaching out to the Shaman Keir for the second time in short order. If he’d seemed surly before, he was downright furious to answer this time. At Ish’s news, he shrugged and said, “So? That is not our problem. Leave it be, Ishmakah. You must focus on your duties, the naga entrusted to your care.” He disconnected the call after that and left us in stunned silence. Ish most stunned of all.

Then he turned iridescent yellow eyes on me and Ekkire, a fire lit inside them that was all fury. Very much anathema to the soft, cheerful, caring side I’d seen of him so far. “I do not agree,” he snarled. “Trust me, Ekkire, Jasmine. I believe all those on this world are in my care, not just naga, not just those of Sun Fang. I will call my former teachers, though I believe they are out of range at the North Pole right now. Then I will call every student I was with at the Sacred Training Grounds. I will get the message out.”

It was all a chaotic rush after that. Various naga came to help us gather the supplies we needed to travel quickly. Only Ilesekh had known about this potential bomb, but word traveled fast. Scrai, who’d made me my new bow, donated a second quiver full of arrows and elicited a promise from Ekkire that we’d be back for another archery competition in better times. Misha and Srayhi traded out our furs for better, newer ones, and Ilesekh topped up our food supply.

“Ask him if his son won’t go hungry to feed us; I won’t allow that,” I said to Ekkire as he was putting the food into his watertight backpack. Ekkire’s eyes flashed green as he repeated what I’d said, and then, much to my unease, Ilesekh dropped into a bow at my feet. He was babbling some apology for not seeing the goodness in my heart right away, but it was no assurance. I was just being decent, damn it; this wasn’t exactly a high bar.

“Yes,” Ekkire said anyway. “Mess will be well-fed; you need not worry, my little hunter.” I realized immediately that Ekkire had repeated my words with such satisfaction because he knew how they’d be received. Yet he’d also known the answer all along. Sneaky man.

Then we were setting out in the dark. A pair of sleepy, completely knackered sleara were tucked into the front of my coat. I’d been given my own backpack with a set of supplies as well, and a waterproof pouch with extra strings for my bow. Gifts to thank us, to help us on this urgent mission, but only small things they could spare, given the ruins of their outpost. Some warriors had expressed their regret that they could not come with us, and Ekkire had firmly assured them this was enough. They were needed here.

The journey back began in the dark, on little sleep, and I recalled the bad sleet and rubble-covered pass we’d traversed to get here. We’d camped and waited for daylight to do it, because it would be too dangerous otherwise. A descent could be even riskier; we’d need to carefully control our speed. I was already worrying about it, my brain rapidly flicking through options to make it safer.

When we reached the top of the pass, Ekkire kept going, however, not turning into it but heading straight across. “There’s a stream deep enough to swim not far. It has a slight drop, but otherwise continues safely down and heads almost entirely in the right direction.” My mind filled with the dark, churning mud and water that had swept me through the gully formed by the earthquake. My mouth went dry with fear, my gut roiling. Oh no, water? That was his solution? He wanted us to let the current sweep us down the mountain? If we had a canoe I might be game, even a raft perhaps, but a swim?

No vessels, improvised or otherwise, were waiting for us when we reached the stream. Ekkire was quiet and efficient as he adjusted his backpack and checked that his weapons and pouches were all secure. I thought I was masking it as I did the same with my things, even unstringing the new bow and putting the string in the new watertight pouch I’d been given. They must have known we were going this way, that’s what the gift was about… Why did it have to be water?

“You will be safe, even if you can’t swim, little hunter.” Ekkire curled his tail around me and drew me closer, tucking me against his chest and hugging me gently so as not to squash the sleeping pair of sleara. “I am a Water Weaver male; we are born to swim. I have traveled this way many times before. It will bring us down the mountain in hours rather than days.” Oh yeah, rationally, I knew perfectly well that the water was a very fast way to travel. The stream was wide and deep, with a fast-rushing current. Even after the earthquake, I saw no obvious rocks or obstacles in the water, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any downstream or hidden beneath the surface.

My body ached, remembering the cold, and the bruises and aches from my last encounter with water. Everything in me rebelled against the thought of going in. “I can swim,” I spat out, angry with myself for not being stronger than this. I was good at anything outdoors, even water, damn it! This stupid panic wasn’t about to get the better of me, was it? Not when the lives of thousands could depend on it, including Corin and Joxra, who were surely still at the crashed ship.

“I’ve done rafting, canoeing, stand-up paddleboarding. Heck, you name it, I’ve probably done it… This is a stream of nothing,” I pointed out, more to myself than to him. He let me talk, muttering furiously into his chest, his big hand stroking along my spine through the thick fur of my coat. I eyed the water again and estimated it would be cold enough to sap my strength to swim within fifteen minutes, and cause severe hypothermia in less than two hours. Even as a capable swimmer, there was no way I’d make it. I opened my mouth to say that, but Ekkire hushed me with the softest, sweetest of brushes against my lips.

“Hush, it will be fine. I will keep you warm, afloat, and safe. The water is cold, yes, but my body will heat yours, and I am well adapted to these circumstances.” I looked into his eyes, certain he had to be mad to trust the water that way. Certain, too, that he did not understand the risk of hypothermia under such conditions, and how fragile a human truly was. I’d fought tooth and nail to be seen as tough; was this the one time I had to admit weakness?

I opened my mouth but again, Ekkire beat me to it. “No, no anger, no fear. I know why you are scared, but this is not like the gully, and the water will get warmer as we travel down. You are going to be fine. Trust me.” It was those last two words that convinced me. I would not say the fear vanished, or even that the panic went away, but I did trust him. He was a Water Weaver, so water was literally in his name. “I’ve got you, Jasmine. You are my heart.”

It was with those words ringing in my ears that I let him carry me into the water, where, like he’d promised, he kept me warm and mostly dry. We went headfirst down the mountain, racing faster and faster. Though it was closest to riding a raft, there was nothing I could compare to lying across his chest, face up, for hours—the water only touching my legs and feet most of the time, and his heat steadily keeping me warm. Our weapons, my bow included, stayed dry on top of us, and the sleara were barely even disturbed from their nap.

It was in those long, dark hours, surrounded by the rushing water, that I found the will to talk. To share the parts of my past I knew he deserved to know, especially if we were racing into the arms of danger yet again.