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I blink as unbidden tears fall from my eyes and I can’t keep myself from sobbing. Just like that. No arguing, no debate, not even an instant’s hesitation. He accepts me as I am. Old, wrinkled, and replete with a ready made family.
I turn my head and wipe away the silly tears. This is ridiculous but he makes me so happy that the emotions have to find some kind of an outlet. The thing I’d like to do is not possible right now, because we are on a mission and there’s no time for us to waste on personal pleasures like that. I take a breath, hold it in, then slowly exhale.
“Okay you?” he asks, when I turn back around and the concern both in his voice and on his face is beyond any doubt.
I try to answer but I choke up and can’t. I shake my head, raise one hand, then focus for a moment on breathing.
“Better than,” I say at last. “Much.”
He smiles. “Better? Why?”
“You,” I say, tears threatening yet again.
Damn, I’m acting like a teenager with a crush. Get it together Marge! Mohlad frowns and shakes his head.
“Do I?”
“You’re you,” I say, staring into his dazzling eyes. Then on impulse, I add a single word but it comes with all the weight of my heart and soul when I say it. “Treasure.”
His smile is more dazzling than the reflected suns dancing on the desert sand. My heart explodes in my chest. I could die I’m so happy. I never knew joy like this. Didn’t know it was even possible yet here it is.
“Treasure,” he says, pressing his hand over his hearts then he touches his lips and waves his hand towards me.
I catch his blown kiss and press it to my chest, right over my heart. I can’t speak but that’s okay. We both know what we’re feeling and what we mean. Words are not necessary.
I shift in my saddle, trying to ease the soreness. Suddenly I realize that our destination is right in front of us.
It’s a massive piece of the ship that was buried into the sand. It looks similar to what Jean described but it looks like it’s tilted further over from when she was here. Mohlad pulls back on his reins and the guster comes to a stop. Mine follows suit at his side. He growls.
There are footprints on the sand going into the ship. Big ones.
Mohlad pulls his lochaber off his back and then climbs off his guster.
“Here wait,” he says, motioning at me. “Trouble, run, you.”
11
MARGARET
He moves towards the ship with an easy grace that belies his size. I watch in something akin to awe as he uses his tail and wings to glide across the sand. He looks as if he’s drifting more than walking.
The footprints lead into the tear on the side of the ship that Jean had told us about. They lead off and up a sand dune to the right. Mohlad goes to the left, approaching the tear but remaining out of sight of anyone who might be inside the darkness of that opening.
My stomach is a tight knot as I watch. He is crouched low, lochaber held in his right hand, point aimed at the ship. It isn’t long at all before he is next to the ship. He presses himself against the wall and moves towards the opening. I try to watch everything. Darting my eyes all around including the sky. It’s clear that someone has been here, but who?
The sand has been moved away from the opening. When Jean was here there’d been a sandstorm and she said that the opening was mostly blocked when they left. We’d come prepared to handle that, having packed shovels, but it was already done.
The footprints cannot be that old. There is an almost constant breeze blowing across Tajss that shifts the sands. Footprints do not last more than a day, two at the most. Which means either these newcomers are still here or they left very recently.
Who are they? Even this far away the prints look too big to be made by a human. They have an odd shape, elongated, and I can’t be sure from here but it looks as if there are hashmarks. I lean forward until my head is next to the gusters.
“It’s okay girl,” I whisper. “He’ll be fine.”
The guster snorts and shakes its head as if agreeing with me. The alpha that Mohlad rides casts a baleful glare in my direction then returns to staring straight ahead.
Fuck you too buddy. No one needs your negativity.
Mohlad is at the opening. He looks at me then in a fluid motion he leaps out and moves into the opening with his lochaber held high, ready to strike. My heart stops. I swear I don’t breathe or feel a single beat of my heart as I wait. Staring at that dark tear which looks like it opens onto an abyss into which my treasure just threw himself.
