13. Shana

13

SHANA

T he force of the explosion takes Kosh off his feet. Together we lift into the air. Mid-air he jerks me against his chest and rolls. He wraps his tail around me then his wings enclose us. I can't see but I am aware that we are tumbling.

We hit the ground hard. I hear him huff, losing his air, as the same happens to me. I can't tell up from down or side from side, but finally, we come to a stop. I struggle to inhale until my lungs finally remember how they're supposed to work.

I hear Kosh's hearts beating in his chest then he takes a sharp inhale. The relief I feel cannot be overstated. I was afraid… well he's okay. He coughs, and shudders, then he loosens the death grip of his tail around me.

I push myself up off his chest, acutely aware of how good his muscles and cool scales feel under the palms of my hands.

"You… okay?" I ask, huffing air which has suddenly become even more precious than water normally is here on Tajss.

"Fine. You, treasure?"

I take a second to assess before I answer. I think I'm fine. Nothing hurts enough to be broken or too serious. I nod then realize he won't see me because he still has me enclosed in his wings.

"Yeah," I say.

"Good," he says, opening his wings.

I climb the rest of the way off of him and onto my feet. I'm not steady, knees are weak and quivery, but I'm up and we're alive. Kosh rolls onto his stomach and then pushes himself upright. He moves to my side and casually places his arm around my waist while his tail curls across the back of my ass.

"Shit," I curse.

"Sshhhh-itttt," he says, dragging it out with a tone of total agreement.

The rolling dunes that make up the normal terrain are gone. Flattened out or sucked into a massive crater. The crater is probably as wide as the section of the ship we crashed in. Hundreds of meters in circumference. It's blackened and smoking.

"Is that," I pause to shake my head and swallow, trying to force moisture back into my mouth. "That's the compound?"

"Yes," Kosh says.

"It was big," I say.

"Was," he agrees.

A stabbing pain in my left side hits hard and fast. I spin away from Kosh and am sick. As soon as it's over I feel better. Kosh is at my side, holding my hair back and rubbing circles on my back.

"Sorry," I say.

"No sorry," he says. "Baby. Natural."

"Yeah," I say, but I can't put my fear into words. That pain, it's too similar to what happened the last time. I can't go through that again. "What do we do now?"

Kosh doesn't answer but walks off to the left. He goes to a mound of sand that looks like it was pushed back by the force of the blast. He thrusts his hand into the sand and then pulls back. The Zmaj he had captured rises out of the sand, spitting and struggling.

The two Zmaj speak in their language while I wait. My head is pounding, and my stomach is roiling. Quickly growing bored watching them fire back and forth, I look around for the guster because it hits me that if they're gone, we'll have to walk all the way home.

Fortunately, they're not far away. The bigger one, the alpha, gives me a baleful glare and tosses its head. I shrug and shake my head. Sorry buddy. Don't know what to tell you.

"We go," Kosh says, jerking my attention to him.

He's fashioned a lead that is attached to the bound Zmaj. He doesn't wait for a response from me, walking past and towards the gusters. I follow behind, feeling numb. He attaches the lead to the saddle of his guster. I wait, watching, still not sure what the plan is but unable to form a fully coherent thought.

Is this a concussion? That was one hell of a blast.

"Come, I help," he says.

"Help?"

He motions towards my guster. Still feeling numb I nod. He helps me to get onto my guster and hands me the reins. He stands at my side, one hand on my thigh, watching me with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"You okay?" he asks.

I nod, bite my lip, then tears burst free. The numbness shatters under the weight of reality. My one best hope just blew up. I want to be a mom. I always have. I was going to keep the first baby, despite how the pregnancy happened, but then Mother Nature had other plans.

And behind that is the weight of knowing we have no place to retreat from the alien invaders. Everyone I know is in danger which, no matter how real that is to me, pales in comparison to the loss that is consuming my soul.

"No," I sob, shaking my head.

"Shana," Kosh says and even his voice, normally as stoic and solid as steel, sounds like it's breaking.

Kosh bends his neck until his forehead is resting on my thigh. I put my hand on top of his head. He feels every bit as much pain as I do, but one thing becomes certain. We are in this together.

I knew I loved him. I knew he loved me. But somehow, in this moment, I feel closer to him than ever. I run my hands through his long hair and over his rough-ridged horns. The tears flow, but as they do, I know that we will get through this. I don't know how, but we will.

"Together," I whisper because my throat is too tight and too raw with all that has happened.

"Always," he says, lifting his head to meet my eyes.

He places his cool fingers on my cheek, and I lean into his touch.

"We should go," I say at last. "Bad news doesn't wait."

He frowns deeply then shakes his head.

"Tajss provides," he says.

"I hope so," I say, but I can't bring myself to believe it.

Hope could be belief, I guess. Is hope the first pale hint of believing something? I don't know. I guess I could ask Desiree. She'd probably be able to give me a dozen or more religious viewpoints on hope and faith. I force a smile, and it occurs to me it doesn't matter what she thinks.

I do hope. Kosh believes it. All the Zmaj believe that Tajss will care for them. And what do I know? Maybe it does. I don't believe that the planet itself is sentient, but there is comfort to be found in the idea that there is something more. Something that if not benevolent, at least isn't actively hostile.

Kosh smiles then straightens and goes over to his guster. He swings up onto it with an ease that makes me more than a little bit jealous. He keeps the leads to our captive in one hand as he kicks his mount into motion. My own falls into line, marching on his flank.