I straighten, arching my back with a groan. Staying bent over for long periods of time isn't exactly easy on my body, but it's kind of part of the job description. I sigh, looking down at the invaders' ship cart.

Yes, I was able to open it before, accident or no. But, unfortunately, that isn't the end of that. Opening the door is only the first step. I have to make it go.

Progress has been slow and frustrating, which I guess is to be expected at this point. No project so far has been easy—why should this one be any different?

I glare at it for a moment. Not that it cares. It’s just sitting there, mocking me.

Okay, I might be losing it a little.

I glance around the empty lab and feel that now-familiar ache in my chest. The lab has always been my safe haven, the place I go where I can feel like I'm in control, where I know exactly what I'm doing. But Melchior quickly became an integral part of that haven, his familiar and comforting presence something I miss terribly.

Hell, what I wouldn't do to have him back here even cold and pissed off at me, working silently in the corner. And isn't that telling?

Taking a deep breath, I look back at the cart. My newest source of frustration. I feel like I always have one at this point. At least the project is helping me get my mind off things somewhat while I wait to hear about Melchior's condition. As if on cue, my eyes prick with tears at the thought of him.

"God damn it," I mutter, tilting my head back to keep the tears from falling.

Okay, so the car isn't a foolproof distraction, but that's a lot to put on a piece of machinery anyway.

I find myself dreading the night more every day, when there's nothing to distract me from my inner monologue, nothing else to occupy my time, my mind. I've tried staying in the lab, but there comes a point where I'm so tired I'm afraid I'm going to do some damage to my progress if I keep going.

So, inevitably, I end up back in bed. Alone.

In that dark silence, my heart, my mind, they both reach out for Melchior, wanting, needing to feel his presence on the other end. Ever since we first became intimate with each other, I've felt this connection. This feeling, this sense of just...him. His presence, for a lack of a better term, in the background of my mind. I didn't even truly realize he was there until he vanished, until the bijass took him from me, ripped us apart. That must be the reason for the severing of that connection.

After the shock of the battle wore off while I was still with the Tribe, I realized I felt an odd hollowness. A nothingness where there should have been something, though I couldn't pinpoint what it was until later.

I drop my head, wrapping my arms around myself, warding off a chill that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

I've tried to reach out to him deliberately with my mind since that realization. Telepathically, I guess, though that word still makes me uncomfortable. But all I feel is a vast emptiness at the other end of that extension, a nothingness that makes me feel worse than before I tried. I feel like I keep worrying at an empty space where a tooth used to be.

Is he lost to me? I don't even want to consider it, but...

Staying with the Tribe day in and day out had not only started to drive me up the wall, it also meant important research and progress wasn't being made back here at the lab.

But maybe leaving had been a mistake. I should have stayed, should have fought for the right to see Melchior rather than going along with the ban like I did. I thought the other Zmaj knew better, had more experience. But do they?

And my thoughts have circled right back to where they always do, an endless cycle that I can't get out of.

I take a deep breath and try to re-focus. I'm not getting anywhere with this.

So I attempt to set aside my impatience with the waiting—for what feels like the thousandth time—and try to focus on the cart, on the problem in front of me that I can maybe actually do something about.

The cart isn't as impressive as Kate's rover, but it's still useful to have another vehicle on hand. Big enough to comfortably fit two or to cram in four, it should be sufficient when we need something to travel a longer distance. I don't know how fast it is, won't really know unless and until I can get the thing fully functional.

So that's what I work on. I don't need to be able to conquer every bell and whistle that comes with the thing, I just need to figure out how to get it running. I throw myself into the work, trying one thing after another, tweaking and adjusting until I have to shake out my hands before I step back.

I stare at it.

I think I may have done it.

It should be fully functional.

I lift the door up on the side and sit down in the bench seat up front.

From what I can gather, there isn't so much a driver's seat as there is a driver's section up front here.

Fiddling with the controls, I hold my breath.

There aren't any foot pedals, just multiple levers and buttons.

I guess that makes sense when you have six arms...

Taking hold of the largest one, I say a quick prayer and slowly ease it forward.

It might not respond right away. There might be—

"Shit!"

I let go as I shoot forward three yards almost instantly. A shot of adrenaline flows through me as I quickly find the brake through a very brief trial and error situation.

It stops just a foot from the wall. I stare at flat surface, letting out a huff of breath.

That was way too close.

It would have been really embarrassing if I managed to destroy the lab like that. I'd never live it down.

I climb out of the cart on slightly shaky legs, staring at the cart in its new position. I look around for good measure, but I've been alone in here for hours. Nobody was here to witness my less-than-smart mistake.

Moving back, I sit down on one of the stools nearby and stare at the cart. It's ready to go, at least for a test drive.

I glance at the clock. Early afternoon. I should really go find Rosalind and share the good news. I know she'll be happy to hear it. But I find myself hesitating as I look back at the vehicle.

I still haven't gotten any news about Melchior, not even a progress update. It's all I can think about.

I stare at the cart some more, biting my lip.

What I'm thinking is stupid. Stupid, crazy, and irresponsible.

I crack my knuckles, still not getting up to go find the Lady General. The cart isn't mine. I can't just take it on what Rosalind would consider a superfluous and dangerous trip. I really shouldn't even be considering it. It's a clear indication that I've fully and completely gone off the deep end.

Aaaand, I'm still sitting on the stool. Not making any move to go find Rosalind.

You know what? I'm tired of always being responsible.

Fuck it.

I jump to my feet and hurry over to the large double doors that stay closed for the most part. We only open them when we have a large piece of equipment to run into or out of the lab. They open into a small side street that doesn't have much foot traffic, which makes it really convenient for bringing in all manner of things.

And which will be very convenient now for me to...borrow the cart to travel to the Tribe and Melchior. It's reckless. But I find I just don't care anymore.

I open one of the doors to stick my head out to do a quick recon of the immediate area.

Empty.

Most people in the city are probably eating right now. And if I leave immediately, I may be able to reach the Tribe before night falls.

Assuming nothing goes wrong. Like a meteor shower, or a zemlja attack, or—

Okay, stop.

My mind is already made up. There's no point in scaring myself more about exactly how great of an undertaking it is to travel across the desert alone, even in the relative safety of a vehicle.

Flinging both doors open I hurry back to the vehicle to hop in, but then stop myself. I need supplies. Luckily, I have some food and water waiting in the wings anyway. If I'm in the middle of something, I don't particularly like to leave the lab. The snacks and water should be enough to tide me over for the trip. And I don't want to risk going out to get anything more and running into somebody. They might pick up on my shadiness. I feel like my intentions are written all over my face right now.

I load up the cart and then get inside, pressing the button that closes the door. As soon as it lowers and locks into place, I grip the lever and move the cart forward.

I'm more careful this time, using only the gentlest pressure to ease it out of the lab. I don't want to ram the thing into a building. That'll be a quick goodbye to any kind of attempt at stealth.

Once outside, I stop it and slide out to close the doors behind me. If anyone goes into the lab, they'll immediately notice the cart is gone. That's not something I can hide.

But there's no reason to clue people in quicker by leaving the doors wide open. If they find out too soon, they'll try to stop me, both for my own safety and for the cart itself. It's a valuable resource, so I would understand, but I still don't want it to happen.

I take a circuitous route out of the city, avoiding the areas and streets that are used the most. My hand grips the lever nervously while I drive, knowing just one pair of eyes might be enough to ruin my plan. Well, if you can even call this half-assed road trip a plan. Maybe I should call it my spiral into mental illness.

I avoid the main entrance and exit point—too many eyes. After bringing the vehicle to a slow stop at the edge of the city, I scan the desert just outside. There are Zmaj on patrol around the city, making sure we aren't taken unawares by invaders or even just the dangerous fauna of Tajss.

I don't want to accidentally run right into someone...

There. I can't make out who it is specifically, but the familiar glint of sunlight off scales and the distinctive shape of wings and tail make the Zmaj warrior easy to identify. I wait until he's out of sight. He might still see me, or someone else might, but it’s the best I can do.

I'm hoping if anyone does see me, they'll just assume I'm taking the cart on a sanctioned test run. The fact that I've never done anything crazy might work in my favor.

Okay.

Here I go.

Swallowing dryly, I carefully drive out onto the desert, the change of the ground underneath me clearly apparent.

The sand slows down the vehicle slightly, but it's built for all terrain, so it still works smoothly. It would be truly idiotic if the invaders brought anything to Tajss that couldn't be driven on sand.

My instinct is to go slowly, so I can watch out for any more Zmaj on patrol—but I don't.

I have a narrow window here where I just might be able to get out of the city and its surrounding area without being stopped. Hesitating now could be my downfall.

I move quickly, hoping the fact that I'm leaving will be helpful. After all, the patrols are on the lookout for attacks, not for people leaving the city. We're not in a prison.

I almost hold my breath as I pass the area where I saw the Zmaj pass through. I don't know how much farther I have to be to be completely out of sight. I'm hoping the ripple of the sand, the up and down dip of the dunes, will help hide me.

I drive for a good ten minutes before my shoulders finally relax somewhat and I let out a sigh of relief. I think I'm out of the danger zone. Now all I have to do is travel through the desert without being attacked, getting lost, or having the newly fixed vehicle die on me.

Piece of cake.

I've never been more aware of my surroundings as I drive in what I'm pretty sure is the right direction. I was careful to make a note of the landmarks that I should pass the last time Melchior took me to the Tribe, just in case. I figured it was good to have that knowledge, though I never expected to have to use it so soon. But I'm glad I paid attention.

“Close to the right direction” could really screw you out here. I could easily miss the Tribe's cave system altogether if I'm not careful, end up at a point miles away because I started just slightly off. When I see the first cluster of rocks I'm on the lookout for, I relax a little more. Okay, at least I'm on the right path. I wasn't entirely sure before.

There's a sameness to the red roll of sand out here that is really disconcerting. I feel it particularly acutely now that I'm completely alone. Really alone.

Actually, I don't think I've ever been this far away from all people before. Not on the ship, in the tunnels, or now in the city or with the Tribe. Huh. It doesn't help that there isn't a whole lot to break the silence.

I try not to think about that as I continue to drive, focusing on keeping a watch all around the vehicle. But despite my anxiety and fear, I find the sameness of the passing landscape slowly lulling me into an almost hypnotic state.

Almost like highway hypnosis, a term I encountered multiple times in the archives of the past on the ship. Come to think of it, I would really welcome a highway, a clear path to indicate where I'm going instead of the vastness of the desert all around me. I stir somewhat as I pass a familiar ridge, mentally checking it off the list. I missed a particular oasis on the way due to that trance like state, but I'm still quite confident of my direction.

I try to stay more aware after that, but I find myself settling back into that odd state. It's like my mind simply can't stay hyper aware while I'm driving through so much that looks the same. So when a flash of movement hits the corner of my eye, it takes me a moment to respond.

What was that?

Heart skipping a beat, I turn to look. I don't see anything immediately and start to wonder if there really was anything in the first place, or if my mind has started to play tricks on me out here...

There!

I squint my eyes, staring at that gap between dunes ahead of me.

What is that...?

I see another flicker, but this time I'm closer and I can actually make out shapes.

My blood chills as I realize exactly what it is I'm seeing. The hulking mounds and twitching tail are unmistakable. Heart in my throat, I have to make a quick decision.

Turn around, stop, or keep going with a route adjustment?

If I keep moving, it might draw attention to me, and I am not at all confident that this thing can outrun a pack of guster. That's not what it's made for, at a guess.

Feeling a fresh layer of sweat break out over my already-hot body, I slowly bring the cart to a stop. There's nowhere to take cover, nothing but sand as far as the eye can see. My breathing sounds loud in the confines of the cart as I wait.

This feels like the worst-case scenario for traveling through the desert on my own. I don't know why I didn't expect it. Things going wrong seems to be the norm.

My breath catches as the first one appears from behind the dune to my left and ahead of me. I stopped with some distance between us, but it isn't like I'm not in full view. I feel painfully exposed, even in sitting in the cart, but maybe if I don't move they won't look over.

It's the hope I cling to as another one follows the first into view.

And then another.

And another.

Four total.

I don't know if it's the same group from last time. I'm not exactly skilled at telling guster apart. All I know is that they look pretty damned big right now as they cross in front of me.

Come on, keep going. Nothing to see here. The mounds of their back shift and sway as they continue to walk, a leisurely stroll, their wide webbed feet keeping them above the sand despite their mass.

I've never actually seen them moving so slowly. Then again, I've only seen them in attack mode.

My heart is beating so hard and fast while I watch that I'm surprised they can't hear it, that they aren't running right over to me. I have no illusions about what will happen if they do turn their attention to me. The cart is fine for travel, but there's no way I'll be able to outrun four of them from this distance and no way the cart will keep me safe with their concerted effort.

It will be a death sentence.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't be focusing so hard on that.

The first one disappears from view, behind another dune to the right, without so much as a glance over. Then the second, its tail whipping behind it as it follows.

But the third hesitates. I don't know why it turns its head to look over in my direction. I haven't moved at all. But it looks over, opening its mouth slightly, displaying those glistening, sharp teeth. That horrifying howl-hiss escapes its mouth, muffled only slightly by the cart.

I swallow, resisting the urge to jam the vehicle into reverse and run.

I can't act rashly.

It hasn't made a move towards me yet, and running usually activates the hunting instinct, making the predator want to chase. As much as I want to run, it might spell my death sentence.

So I white knuckle the seat under me and stay in place, a drop of cold sweat sliding down my spine as I watch. I keep breathing slow and even, shallow. I can't move, can't draw attention...

Why did I think coming out here alone was a good idea?

The fourth guster bumps its head into the one in front and that great head whips about, that howl hiss now directed at its counterpart.

The fourth just hisses back and walks past without a by-your-leave, clearly unimpressed with the display. I hold my breath as the third continues on, its gaze now on the other guster rather than me.

Within a few more seconds they're all out of sight.

But I stay frozen, only moving my eyes to look around me, straining to catch any hint of movement.

I stay like that for five minutes.

Then ten.

At fifteen, I finally take a deep breath, slumping in my seat, wiping at my sweaty face.

I'm all right.

I'm okay.

I grab some water and take small sips. The mundane act helps.

I take a few deep breaths before starting the cart once more and easing forward, keeping an eye out in case the pack decides to circle back around. When I don't immediately see them, I push the cart as fast as it can go.

At this point, I just want to get to the Tribe as fast as possible. I don't know if I could handle it if something else goes wrong. It takes some time before I'm not jumping at every little thing. Thankfully, the rest of the trip is uneventful.

When I see the sunlight glinting off the wall in front of the Tribe's cave system, I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank God," I say to myself, taking the cart all the way down to the edge.

Before anyone can raise an alarm about an unknown vehicle, I step out of the cart and hurry in past the wall. I see one of the Zmaj on patrol continue after a brief hesitation. If they ask me questions, I'll have to answer.

But I only have one person on my mind right now, and I don't want to linger long enough for someone to stop me. I don't doubt someone will if they realize I'm going to see Melchior.

I don't know exactly where they're holding him, but I do know the general direction they took him in. So that's where I go, keeping my head down and hurrying.

Nobody's going to stop me, not after I trekked across the whole freaking desert by myself. I dare anyone to try, honestly. I am so not in the mood.

Luckily, it doesn't actually take me very long to find where he's being held.

When I do, I feel my stomach drop a little. There are metal bars blocking the entrance to his cave. I know he needs to be restrained, but seeing him in a cage like this...

My eyes shift to the figure inside the dim interior. His hair is a mess, his hands clenched into fists as he prowls around the small space, complete with a cot and a small table and chair. I can feel the intensity of his energy, the frustration.

The rage.

I've seen footage of lions and tigers in cages, all that strength and energy trapped. That's exactly what this reminds me of. It doesn't feel right, even if they think it's necessary.

I stay silent, just watching him for a moment. Just seeing him is like a soothing balm to the soul. I feel like my everything is in there, trapped under a wall of that seething anger that I can't fully understand, not at the level he seems to be feeling it at anyway.

I don't say anything as I watch, not really expecting a reaction if he is as far gone as they say. I don't know what I expect, really. He hasn't responded to any of my telepathic attempts to reach out to him. Maybe he won't respond to me here now either.

The thought sends a fresh stab of fear and loss through me.

Have I left it too long? Am I too late?

But even as the edge of that panic fades slightly, I see Melchior's shoulders tense, the hard muscle cut. He's leaner than he was even from just these few days. Is he refusing to eat?

He turns around fast, his tail whipping out behind him, his wings flaring slightly. The unexpected swiftness of the movement startles me, but I resist the urge to step back in response.

He's behind bars.

He can't hurt me.

I don't want him to see me afraid of him, even in this state.

His eyes, those eyes that haunt me in my dreams these days, they find my own and lock on.

Outwardly, nothing happens.

But I feel the energy in that cell shift, morph into something else. Something...softer.

He takes a step towards me but doesn't close the entire distance. Almost like...he's afraid to?

I step forward to wrap my hands around the cold metal of the bars, holding his eyes, hope fluttering in my chest.

I can see Melchior in them. Can see his personality seeping back into that verdant green.

I want nothing more than to run in there, to take him into my arms, to pepper his face with kisses, but all I can give him right then are words.

I give him the ones that truly matter, the ones that might pierce through the last bit of that barrier that I can feel lingering.

"I am yours, Melchior. All yours." I grip the bars tighter as his eyes sharpen. "All yours...and waiting."