I squirm on the make-shift bed. The rustle of the well-worn cloth sounds incredibly loud in the quiet of the room. I go still, the softness nice under my body after spending days never fully reclining in the rover. It's much cooler than outside in the desert too. In short, I'm a lot more comfortable than I've been in days. I should have passed out already by now just because of that.

My eyes are still wide open, staring at the ceiling above as I struggle to settle in, and I know exactly why.

Errol's handsome face flashes across my mind, that determined glint in his eye that told me it wasn't over when I had to cut our talk short. I shiver a little at the memory. He’s so incredibly sexy, big, like all the Zmaj but the coloring of his scales is different. Seven feet tall at least with that tail, you’d think wouldn’t look good, but it only adds to his presence. The tips of his wings rise over his shoulders even when folded, and his voice is a deep, rumbling bass. All that combined with the care he's shown. The bravery and intelligence. I just can't seem to shake this attraction I have towards him.

With a sigh, I turn over to my side, and consider the problem. But then I immediately reconsider that word. Is it really a problem, this draw he has for me? Why do I want to think of it like that from the get go? Hmm.

What if...I pursue the attraction? Stop running and just...see what happens. Could there be more there than just the physical? Maybe the possibility of an emotional connection? And perhaps even more than that. Could love be an actual possibility here?

I frown, turning onto my stomach, trying to get comfortable. Though the bed isn't the problem right now, is it? I let out a huff of breath.

I've been operating in survival mode ever since we crashed on Tajss, just trying to live ‘til the next day. That's what life has become and how I've pictured the future when I allow myself to think about it. But what if there is a chance at actual happiness on this planet? A reason to live beyond living itself here? Wouldn't that be a step up?

We'll never find a way off Tajss. If there had been a way, I'm betting Rosalind would have figured it out by now. We're years in at this point. However, maybe there is something else to hope for. Something that might actually be attainable.

I can almost feel that little seed of hope, the hope that finally pushed me out of the tunnels, growing at the thought. Now that I've seen this city, I have to resist the urge to beat myself up over not leaving even sooner. Not because they were so horrible to live in, but because the city suggests there might be more to find here on this planet, more to do than simply struggle to exist like Annabel would have us do.

Now that I'm away from her and the atmosphere she fostered, I can see even more clearly how much of a tyrant she has become. I'm surprised it took me this long to gather the wherewithal to leave. It just shows how much we'd all been beaten down by everything, doesn't it? But that doesn't matter now. There's no use re-hashing the past over and over. What's done is done. I close my eyes, determined to shut off my mind and sleep finally.

But that only has me thinking of Errol again. The intensity of his eyes, the chiseled musculature forged by hard work, the clean musk of his scent. And, just like Gomul, he's tall. Much taller than the average human, maybe around seven feet.

That's a lot of dragon-man for a petite woman like me, but there's no denying the electric charge of the air around us when we're together. The way my body aches to be touched by him. I can feel the echoes of it even now, just thinking of him. The situation is getting more desperate the more I'm around him. Thinking about him like this doesn't help, but it's like I have no control over my own brain when it comes to him.

He's the last thing on my mind as I finally drift off, my body too tired to stay awake despite my thoughts, Nora's steady breathing helping lull me into sleep.

Where my dreams take over. They're embarrassingly dominated by Errol, by his rippling muscles, his gorgeous face. In my own personal fantasy, he's actually touching me. And he isn't shy about it. I feel my heartbeat quicken, feel myself break out in a sweat as skin touches skin, his hands all over me as he moves in that—

I wake abruptly when the door to our room opens.

"Sorry," Nora says with a sheepish smile as she steps in. "I was just checking to see if any of the others were awake."

"No problem," I say, feeling oddly disoriented as I take a deep breath. I'm sweatier than the temperature calls for. And definitely a lot more slick in another place than I should be. Jeez. It's been a long time since I was a teenager. This really shouldn't be happening.

I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, keeping my face down. I really hope that world-class wet dream doesn't show on my face, but I figure it's probably best not to give Nora a good look at it quite yet. I need to act normal. What would normal, not hot-and-bothered Kate say?

"How do you feel about breakfast?" I ask in a surprisingly even voice. Go me!

She brightens.

"That would be great!" she says eagerly. "I'm starving."

Good. Something else to focus on. And now that I've mentioned it, I could do with some food as well, so I haul myself out of bed to get ready.

By the time we dress and head out to the hall, most of the other women who arrived with me are also wandering out, looking better for the rest. They still don’t look as good as the other survivors in this place. Maybe it's because the city people have more food and are exposed to less heat? Something still feels off about that. There's a vitality that's missing in our group, one that I see in the others here. Maybe we'll regain it if we spend a little time here. Only time will tell, in that case.

"Where are we going?" Nora asks, looking over at me expectantly as we start walking down the hall.

"I think we should just go to the same communal area Errol took us to yesterday. At least we know where it is."

Nobody can argue with that logic. So that's where we go. Since it's breakfast time, there's food already laid out and more people seated at the tables than when we first arrived yesterday.

We keep mostly to ourselves, though we try to chat a bit with those around us. The ship was big—some of the faces are familiar, but some of them have faded from memory. It feels a bit odd to be around so many people after being in such a small group for so long, but in a good way.

The low buzz of conversation stops, sudden silence falling across the room that’s immediately filled with low, bubbling laughter.

“Tag!” a girlish voice yells.

Looking for the source a commotion at the far end of the room pulls my attention. A small person, no more than two feet tall, lands on the long dining table and runs down the middle, giggling loudly. She’s wearing a soft pink shirt and a cloth diaper. Tiny scaled legs pump fast as she runs, arms flailing, knocking trays and glasses over as she passes.

“Rverre!” another female voice shouts, cutting across the outcries of those who are now wearing their breakfasts.

Behind the first small person runs another. This one is wearing no shirt and a pair of tan pants. Small horns sprout from his head, slightly curling back towards his ears, and shimmery scales cover his face and chest.

“I’ll get you!” he cries, his voice cherubic.

“Illadon!” yet another female shouts. “Get down! Now!”

Neither of the small people are listening to the voices. The first one is closer to me now and I get my first good look. It’s obviously a baby girl with a wide smile on her face and deeply blue tinted scales along her body. Brilliant green eyes sparkle with joy as she laughs. Tiny wings spread as she leaps into the air, gliding several feet down the table and lands in the middle of my plate. Food splatters up into my face and I throw myself back, trying to avoid the worst of it.

“Sorry,” she says, barely pausing before she’s running once more.

“Rverre, no fair, we said no wings!” the other cries, leaping also and landing a couple of feet behind her.

He’s taller than her, his bare chest already showing the beginnings of the Zmaj physique. His scales show even more colors, sparkling blues, yellows, and greens mix along the edges. His eyes are green but have bright gold flecks that catch the light. His tiny tail swings back and forth.

He puts one foot in front of the other and is about to leap again, but as he does two massive arms snatch him out of the air right over my head.

Crouching down into my chair and swiveling my head to peer behind me, there’s a full-grown Zmaj man who has grabbed the boy and is wrestling him to his chest. The coloring of his scales is similar to the young boy’s and he has the same green eyes. It’s more than obvious he’s the boy’s father.

“Illadon,” the man says, voice soft. “Listen to your mother.”

“Ah, dad,” the boy whines.

“Illadon, you need to apologize, you know better than to run in the dining area,” a woman says, huffing up next to the man.

The woman is lithe with long, brown hair that hangs past her shoulders and milky white skin that is too pure to be believed. She looks at the mess in front of me and her mouth drops open into an O.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, pushing past me and scraping the mess onto a tray. “I’ll get you another helping.”

“It’s fine,” I say, unable to take my eyes off the boy.

She’s his mother? He’s the father? Can that be right? I must have heard something wrong.

The boy struggles in his father’s grip but doesn’t stand a chance. Another diminutive woman with almond shaped eyes walks up with the other child on her hip. The baby, if it’s still such, is almost half her size, forcing her to walk with her hip cocked out to one side to offset the child’s weight.

“Rverre, look what you’ve done,” the new woman admonishes the child.

“I’m sorry,” the child says, her voice cheery. “Hug?”

She holds her arms out towards me, tiny hands opening and closing.

“I’d… love a hug,” I say, stumbling over my words in the moment of disbelief.

Children. Cross-children, inter-racial? Is that what you would call it? Inter-species?

Opening my arms, the child leaps into them and squeezes my neck hard. She’s strong and adorable and too much. Tears form in the corners of my eyes, tears of joy, of relief, of hope. Squeezing her tightly back I hold on to her like she’s the last rock before I go over a waterfall.

“You smell good,” she says into my ear.

“Thank you,” I say, letting her go reluctantly.

Tingling runs from my fingers up to my elbows. A baby. It’s a real, talking, actual baby. It’s not only a baby but there’s no doubt that it’s a mixed-race baby.

“You must be the new folks,” the smaller woman says. “I’m Jolie.”

She holds out one hand, cocking her hip to the side so Rverre rests easier. She’s so small that I can’t imagine how hard it must be to hold the baby and remain standing.

“Hi,” I say, taking her hand. “I’m Kate.”

She grins, an infectious smile that lights up her dark eyes and makes her face beam.

“So glad to meet you!” she exclaims, then jerks me into a rough, one-armed hug. Stepping back, she points at the other two. “This is Calista, Ladon, and that is Illadon.”

“As in, World of Warcraft?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Calista laughs. “Hey, Rverre is named for Doctor Who.”

“Oh, wow, I missed that,” I laugh along with them. “So… you can… I mean…”

I stumble over the words. It seems delicate, but I have to know. How did anyone guess that our two entirely different species could… well breed?

“Yeah,” Calista grins. “Trust me, it’s possible.”

“Wow,” is all I can say.

Jolie pipes in, “We need to check in on Mei.”

“Yes,” Calista nods agreement.

The mood shifts, becoming instantly somber.

“Is she okay?” I ask, sensing the concern.

“Yeah,” Calista answers, but there’s a hesitation to her voice. She exchanges a look with Jolie. “Zmaj babies are big, too big for a human woman honestly. The birthing is difficult and they take twelve months to gestate. The last three or four months you’re on bedrest. Mei is having a difficult time, that’s all.”

Jolie nods but the two of them exchange a look that says there’s more going on than they’re saying. I let it go. I’m new here and it’s none of my business.

“It was nice to meet you both,” I say.

The mothers add their well wishes then they leave. Sitting down and finishing my meal, the light buzz of conversation flows around me filled with the excitement of possible futures. My own thoughts turn to Errol. Could that be my future too? Four months of bedrest sounds terrible but holding a baby, a mix of the two of us and damn if those babies weren’t the cutest thing ever.

We finish our meals—which include a wider variety of produce than we've become used to—then we hear about a small marketplace in the city dome.

"It isn't like the one we had on the ship," the guy warns us as he leaves. "But it's nice to have at all."

"Let's go!" Lanie says as soon as she hears about it.

"Yeah, that could be cool," Fallon agrees. "Even if we can't actually get anything."

Everyone's on the same page, including me. We haven't had any kind of shopping since the ship. It would be stupid to pass up the opportunity.

We clean up after ourselves and head out of the communal dining hall to the section of the city we're pointed towards. There are more people out and about now that it's morning, and the crowd starts to thicken even more as we near the marketplace.

As reported, it's small, with a row of open-air stalls bordering a corner of an open square, but it's still fun to look at the wares for sale. Bags, hats, knives. There's a lot to see and we take our time doing so. It’s a bit of a shock. After seeing the same people, the same walls, over and over again for so long, everything looks interesting.

Studying a woven wide-brimmed hat, I'm about to ask the vendor if she'd be willing to barter for a knife when I hear a familiar voice. My heartbeat picks up immediately.

"Thank you, I could really use this right now..." another vendor responds to that deep voice.

Not turning my head, I look over at the stall next to me, searching. My eyes collide with laser-focused blue-green ones. My breath hitches as I lock eyes with Errol. The dream from last night comes crashing back to me and I feel my cheeks flush. The vendor is speaking to him, but his attention is clearly on me. How long has he been watching me stare at that hat?

As I watch, he says something to the vendor that I don't catch. I'm still too busy staring. Then he walks over, a heavy bag in one hand.

"Hello, Kate," he greets me in that distinctive voice. I suppress a shiver of reaction. "Did you sleep well?"

The question is innocent enough, but my thoughts aren't. I feel my blush deepen even more at the triggered memories of the dreams I enjoyed last night. None of them safe for public consumption.

"Uh, fine," I stammer, knowing I'm beet red. One of the major downsides of being a redhead. There's practically no way to downplay when I'm embarrassed.

All right, I need to redirect here. Fast.

"What are you up to this morning??" I ask.

"I rose with the suns and now I am up." He tilts his head to the side. "Have you eaten?"

His literalness has me blinking in confusion and it takes me a moment to switch gears at his question.

"Yes."

"Good."

There’s an awkward pause while we both stare at each other. I don't know about him, but it's like the sight of him has all my mental gears grinding to a halt. I cast around for another topic, glancing away to gather my thoughts. Rosalind sweeps past just then, her eyes scanning the marketplace.

They land on me, and she waves with a smile as she changes her direction, coming over to us instead. The sight of her is like a slap in the face, waking me up. Do I really want to do this? Seek something more with Errol? I don't want to be judged or be subject to the rules here, be controlled by yet another person even if she is a vast improvement over Annabel. And that might be exactly what happens if I'm with Errol. Maybe I should rethink how openly I want to entertain this chemistry between us.

"Hello, Kate, Errol," Rosalind greets us. "How are you and your group doing?"

"We're fine, thank you," I return, my emotions in turmoil.

"Rosalind," Errol interjects. "Has the new batch of epis arrived?"

"Yes. That's actually why I was looking for you, Kate," she says, her eyes shifting to me. "I asked for the hunters to harvest more epis this time to accommodate your group as well."

"Epis?" I question. "What’s that?"

Rosalind and Errol exchange glances. He takes up the explanation.

"It is a plant," he says. "One that helps the body adapt to the harsh conditions here. I do not know how you have survived this long without it—human bodies are not built to live in a place like Tajss." He gives me a scanning glance, though it is clearly not one meant to be flirtatious. It looks too assessing. "But even though you have survived, everyone in your group is thin, pale, weaker than you should be."

A plant that helps us adapt? Is this why everyone here looks so much healthier than we do?

"It sounds almost too good to be true," I say lightly, though my wariness is real. It sounds like some kind of drug.

Rosalind and Errol exchange another glance. There's something they aren't telling me. When Rosalind tacks on her portion, I know I'm right.

"There is a catch," she admits. "I want you to know all the facts before you take it, but I will say we all take it here, so that lets you know the benefits outweigh the risk." She takes a deep breath. "Once you take it, you are addicted to it. If you take it more than a handful of times, withdrawals could very well kill you. Even if you've only taken it once or twice, the withdrawals are no joke."

Errol nods as I listen with ever-widening eyes.

"The epis also needs to be fresh to impart the full benefit," he adds. "That is why the hunters here in the city make regular trips to harvest it from nearby zemlja caves, despite how dangerous an endeavor it is."

I shake my head.

"What are zemlja?" I ask, though there are many more questions running through my mind.

"They're giant wormlike creatures that spit acid. And yes, they're predatory," Rosalind answers with a grimace. "The epis only grows in their dens." She pauses. "I have to add, the epis also extends your lifespan along with giving you strength."

I feel completely overwhelmed. I cycle through the information dump quickly.

"Wait," I say. "So... that means we could never leave Tajss if we take it? It isn't a plant we can grow ourselves?"

"No," Errol says grudgingly. "You would be tied to Tajss."

"But it isn't like we're going anywhere, not realistically," Rosalind points out. "Even if we figured out the ship problem..."

She doesn't have to finish that thought. Even if we had a working ship, only our group hadn't taken the epis. We'd be resigning ourselves to dying en-route to our original destination rather than simply staying on Tajss. Perhaps another opportunity would present itself. But the chances of that are extremely slim if not non-existent.

"This is a lot to take in," I finally say. "Can I think about it?"

"Of course," Rosalind agrees. "But the fresher it is the better. And it just arrived. You will have to wait a while for the next shipment if you take too long."

Great. A time crunch on top of everything.

"I need to speak to my friends," I murmur to myself.

Rosalind nods briskly, stepping back.

"You do that. Everyone who wants a dose should come out to meet near the marketplace as soon as you decide."

"All right," I agree as she leaves.

That's a lot to pass on.

"Kate?"

I turn back at Errol's concerned voice, forcing a smile.

"I better head back to my group," I say, taking a step back. "It was good to see you."

"You should take the epis," he urges. "Otherwise, I fear your lifespans will be quite short."

"I'll take that into consideration."

He doesn't say anything more when I turn on my heel and push through the crowd. Running away from him as much as hurrying to talk to my group. I need time to think, to consider all the repercussions. Both for Errol and for epis. Though, currently, one is much more important.

I rejoin the other women, the lightheartedness of the shopping trip obliterated as I fill them in.

"Wait—there's a magical plant that will fix how shitty we feel here?" Fallon asks. "Sign me up!"

"It likely changes us on a cellular level, adjusts our DNA," Lanie mutters to herself.

"Is that good or bad?" I ask.

She shrugs.

"Everyone here seems to be fine. And we're not exactly thriving, from a health standpoint." She pauses, nodding to herself. "I'm in. I want to feel good for whatever life we're able to build here."

In the end, there isn't a whole lot of debate about our decision. Not when we can literally see how much better everyone in the city is doing. We go down to the meeting point, where Rosalind is already waiting with the plant.

Errol is there as well, his shoulders relaxing as he sees us arrive. But he doesn't try to come closer, simply watches from a short distance away while he speaks to another Zmaj. I can feel the weight of his gaze as Rosalind presents a dose of the plant to each of us.

"How often do we need to take this?" Lanie asks as she takes the plant.

"Once a week in the beginning, for about a year. Then it should taper off to a maintenance dose a few times a year, to avoid withdrawals," she responds.

"And we just...eat it?" Nora asks dubiously.

"Yes. It doesn't taste bad."

I stare down at the light blue, glowing plant.

"Here goes nothing," I mutter, bringing it up to my mouth.

The others watch me do it. Then they look at each other and follow suit, one by one.

When I bite down, a cooling sensation immediately sweeps through me. It has a spicy mint flavor that rushes through my body. The change is immediate. The slight headache I've been living with for the most of our time here disappears, the touch of nausea, the digestive discomfort...all of it leaves. And I'm not hot. In fact, I feel cool.

The others must be feeling something similar because when I look at their faces, they appear just as shocked as I am.

"Wow," Ashlee breathes. "I feel like a person again!"

That exclamation draws unanimous agreement from all of us. That's exactly what it feels like. We've been functioning at a fraction of our energy for so long that we didn't even really remember what it felt like to feel good.

But even as I wonder at the change, I can't get my mind off Errol. I can feel his eyes on me as we move away, leaving to get lunch. I don't look at him, feeling too vulnerable in that moment, too physically off-kilter to also throw in the complication of him. But I'm still thinking of him through lunch. And all the way to the small celebration Rosalind and her mate throw that night.

She invited everyone in the city but also those of Errol’s tribe, so the party is actually pretty big, with different personalities mixing. I try to have a good time as I speak with humans and Zmaj alike. I’m intrigued by how intermixed everything is, how natural and cohesive it all feels. Though maybe I shouldn't be. Even our group ended up living with a Zmaj to survive, didn't we? We're lucky they were here to help all of us.

"This is pretty rare," Sarah explains as the celebration goes on around us. "A carefree party isn't usually high on the priority list."

I nod. It makes sense and falls in line with Rosalind's leadership style. I would never peg her as the celebrating-for-celebration's-sake type. I see a couple of our group dancing and others drinking some of the homemade alcohol. Everyone's having a good time it seems. Except me. I'm too preoccupied to really let loose.

My eyes inevitably find Errol again. It's like I can’t focus on anything else when he's in the vicinity. He nodded at me when I arrived and I nodded back. But that was it.

There's a weirdness between us now, an uncomfortable tension that wasn't there before. One that I regret. Maybe I should—

A Zmaj with red scales steps into my line of sight, an open smile on his face.

"Would you like some of the zeeker we've brewed?" he asks, holding out a full cup.

I smile back automatically, taking the cup to be polite. He's trying to be friendly, which I appreciate. Even if I'm not even remotely in the mood.

"Thank you," I say.

"You are quite welcome. I hear..."

As he continues the conversation, I listen with half an ear as my eye is drawn back to where I saw Errol last, only to see the back of him as he pushes through the crowd, out towards the edge. Where is he going? Once he pushes through the crowd, he quickly disappears into an alley. Leaving the party completely.