Prologue

"You gave your word," I say.

I'm so angry that it unintentionally comes out as a growl. The Zmaj Al'fa studies his claws, then brushes them against the chestplate of bones, filling the room with a rattling sound. He huffs, shakes his head, and only then does he look up. His demeanor is calm but I know him well enough to see that this is a show he is putting on.

"Did I?" he asks with a shrug.

The room is silent. Visidion presses his hand on my lower back. I count to ten, pushing away the anger and emotions that will only cause more problems. Zat'an, who is standing next to the Al'fa, clears his throat and raises his hands while tapping his tail on the floor.

"Perhaps we should adjourn and discuss this—" Zat'an says, trying to intervene.

"There is no need," the Al'fa cuts him off with a sharp slashing of his hand. "I have made up my mind."

"You cannot do this," I counter.

"Can't I?" the Al'fa says, his voice low, deep, and rumbling.

He leans onto the table between us. The tablet has a to-scale carving of the entire Zmaj compound and the immediate tunnels around it. He's trying to use his size to intimidate but that doesn't bother me. Not in the slightest, if anything it raises my hackles, makes me want to meet his challenge as I have so many other men who thought to use their size against me. I press my hands on my side of the table and try to lean forward in response but my bulging belly stops me.

Damn it. Sorry little one.

"No, you cannot" I answer. "We have an agreement. My people are embedded. You wouldn't know all that you do without them."

"Right," he says, a vicious smile on his face, "remove them, now. I will give you that much time."

"You stubborn ass," I say, the words slipping off my tongue before I can stop them.

Not my most diplomatic moment. His eyes widen and his tail rises over his head. Visidion growls, it's a soft sound as he keeps it suppressed but it is unmistakable. He grabs his hood and removes it from his head. My back cools where his hand was and I am very aware of missing that point of contact with him.

"Al'fa," Visidion says. "Control yourself."

Al'fa growls at Visidion. The two of them glare at one another as the tension in the room soars. These two alien-dragon warriors will be throwing down any moment if I don't defuse the situation and fast. Honestly, I'm surprised it's taken this long for it to happen. The fact that it has is a testament to Visidion's self-control. The number of times the Al'fa has insulted or threatened me cannot be easy for Vis to let slide.

"You are all my guests," he says, jabbing one finger forcefully onto the table to emphasize each word. "This is my domain. My people. My enemies."

"And this is my mate," Visidion growls as his tail rises over his head.

He takes a step to move around the table but I catch his arm and stop him. His muscles are vibrating with the tension of barely contained rage, but he stops, for me.

"Al'fa," I say, speaking softly, but not looking at him.

My eyes are on Visidion who stares at my hand on his arm. The corners of his lips twist, forming a half-smile that I know and love so incredibly much. The love I found in him… I never would have expected. By the time the crash happened, I was living on borrowed time and knew it. That I am still here, still leading my people, and soon that Vis and I will have a child of our own, all of these things were impossible without Tajss.

"What, Lady General?" the Al'fa asks.

The tone of his voice is tight. He's staring at Vis, ready to throw down. I honestly don't know which one of them would win in a fight, but I would lay odds on Vis, not only because I love him with all my heart, but because I know that he is a brilliant strategist.

"We had a deal," I say. "I expect you to keep your word."

"The situation has changed," he says. "You sent your people there and now we know how dangerous this Shaman of the Urr'ki is."

"Are you saying that you believe this paluga they worship is real?" I ask.

The Al'fa scoffs sharply, shaking his head. Zat'an at his side barks a harsh laughter. The tension in Visidion eases. I've defused the situation, which is part of what I hoped to accomplish.

"No," Zat'an says. "It's a myth. A desperate dream."

"Yet an entire species believes," I say. "Every report we have indicates it is so. That belief, above all else, is the most dangerous thing we face."

"Which is exactly why I want your people out of there. We are going to wipe out the Urr'ki and finish this problem. Once and for all."

There is a fluttering in my stomach that causes me to pause before I speak. It feels like a light brushing on some part of my guts. I place my hands over my belly, smiling at my child. Growing strong and quite possibly reacting to the tension in the room.

You are the future. I do all of this for you and those who will come with you.

Warmth fills my head as I consider her. Or him. There is no knowing the sex of the coming child. All the tools that would have accomplished that were destroyed in the wreck, but I feel like it's a girl. Visidion has made it clear he would prefer a girl and in the deepest part of my heart I feel the same, though I will never say so out loud. It's not like I will love this child any less if it's a boy. One sex or another, it is my miracle child.

"I know you do not believe me when I say this," I say. "But we need them."

"Bah," the Al'fa waves a dismissive hand. "You are right, I do not believe you. An Urr'ki is as unnecessary as a third wing. Pointless and a waste of space."

He chuckles in amusement at his own analogy. No one else in the room joins him, which is good. I'm making progress on them at least. I hold the Al'fa's gaze, meeting his mirth with a glare.

"As we have argued to no end," I say. "You are not correct."

"You worry about more Star People," he says, losing all hints of humor. "But in my eyes, you are Star People. Did your people not come from a ship far above Tajss?"

"We did and you damn well know it," I snap. "But you also know we are not from this galaxy. We had nothing to do with what happened to your people. Or to this planet. And now we are every much a part of Tajss as you. As are the Urr'ki."

"Bah, they are not part of Tajss. If they are, then they are the refuse of a dying breed that should no longer exist."

"You never said such things to Mazabuta," I point out.

He snaps his mouth shut as I cut off further pointless diatribe. He sounds racist, if that term applies when it's a completely distinct species, but he doesn't believe his words. He is speaking out of old hatreds, wounds, and hurts.

It is, on the whole, more lip service to the past then what is in his heart, which is why I continue arguing with him. If I thought he really believed half the things that he says I would have to be coming up with a different solution for handling him than talking. Something that unfortunately would have to be more permanent.

"Bah, he was different," the Al'fa says dismissively turning away. "An exception to the rule that all Urr'ki are worthless."

I walk around the table until I'm standing directly in front of him. He towers over even my height, which is not insignificant for a human woman. The swell of my belly presses into him I'm so close. I crane my neck to look up at him. He glares down, his nostrils flaring, mouth in a tight grimace.

"You can choose to believe me or not," I say. "But know this. You gave me your word. I expect you to…"

I trail off as the room vibrates. I look around for the source. Loose parts of the model dance across the table and decorations on the wall rattle and bounce.

"What?" Zat'an says, but before he can say more I'm thrown off my feet as the vibrations become a full on rocking.

"Ros!" Visidion yells.

In my peripheral I see him leap up and over the model table. His wings snapping wide he flies through the air.

I'm in the air too but falling back. Mentally I try to brace myself for the coming impact while also struggling to understand what is happening. The only comparison I have is the attack of a zemlja, but I didn't think they burrowed under the mountains. So I've been told, was that wrong?

Before I hit the ground I am lifting up. Zat'an curls me against his chest, hunching to cover me. Shouts and screams are coming from all around us. Zat'an loses his footing and we fall together. He protects me and cushions the fall with his body.

Vis lands on top of the table then leaps down and throws his body over mine and Zat'an both. Cracks appear in the walls of the room and race from the ground to the ceiling. Dust fills the air. Then the quaking stops. Vis jumps up and grabs me into a cradled hold.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine," I say, "thanks to Zat'an."

"Thank you," Visidion says to Zat'an who grunts and nods.

"Impossible," the Al'fa yells. "This has never happened. What was this? Zat'an, report!"

"It was a quake," Zat'an says. "I'm going to inspect the compound and assess the damage."

"Yes," the Al'fa says, then looks at me. "Come."

He sweeps out of the meeting room. Visidion and I follow in his wake. He leads the way to the balcony that oversees the arena. It gives a full view of the heart of the Zmaj underground compound. Visidion only sets me onto the ground when we step onto the balcony. I should mind, but I can't bring myself to. I appreciate his protectiveness and this is part of how he shows he cares.

On my own feet at last I walk over to stand next to the Al'fa and survey the damage. My stomach drops. There is a wide crack running through the middle of the arena.

"By Tajss," the Al'fa whispers.

The arena is the core of the underground Zmaj life. The damage renders it unusable. I can only imagine the blow that will represent to this society. So much of their culture and structure revolves around the arena. It's also clear by the Al'fa's reaction that he's stunned too.

Giving him time to come to terms with what's happened I look over the area. People rush around shouting and looking out for one another. The Zmaj are already organizing and getting help to those who need it, which is good, but the damage is heart wrenching.

The top two tiers of the ramp on my left that leads its way around the arena have collapsed leaving a large gap with people trapped on opposite sides of it. Thankfully we haven't moved many people into the higher level rooms.

"What caused this?" I ask.

"I do not know," the Al'fa says, all of our disagreements forgotten.

"I have a suspicion," Zat'an says.

"And that is?" I ask, looking over at him in surprise. I hadn't realized he'd followed us out here.

"If the paluga is real…" he trails off not needing to finish the thought.

Then this is the first sign of it waking up.

"Impossible," the Al'fa says.

"I do not think that word means what you think it means," I say, humorlessly. My mind is racing. There is now even more to do but if this is a sign that the mythical paluga is not only real, but close to awakening, and that it will cause this much damage when it does… "We're running out of time. Faster than I thought."

"I told you we must destroy them," the Al'fa says, ending with a growl and slamming his clenched fist on the stone wall of the balcony.

"No," I say sharply. "We must reinforce their resistance, form a plan, and stop the Shaman. Faster. If we don't, if they awaken a monster, you think this will be all the damage?"

The Al'fa turns to face me with a dark, menacing look on his face.

"You have a plan?" he asks.

"No," I shake my head. "Not yet. You ready to help figure one out?"

He silently gazes across all the damage that has been done. A low growl, his tail thumping the ground, then he nods.

"I will follow your lead," he says. "For now."

For now. It's all I can ask. If he tried to attack I'd be consigning the girls I sent into the Urr'ki city to their doom. At least I've bought them time. But this quake makes it more than clear that time is a luxury we do not have.