I carefully cut a slit along the side of the lychnara's thick, yellow peel, not wanting to lose any of the sweet juice inside. The rare fruit is a much-appreciated treat, one we would most likely never have found if Gomul wasn't nice enough to procure them for us. We have a lot to thank him for.

I set my blade down and peel the fruit just as slowly, purposefully focused on the task. Maybe I don't need to be so careful about it—scratch that, I know I don't need to be so careful about it—but the task gives me something less irritating to pay attention to.

"We need to stay here. It doesn't make any sense to leave the safety of this place."

I pull out a segment of the fruit and pop it into my mouth. The juicy sweetness bursts across my tongue. It's at the perfect ripeness. I think of my response as I chew thoughtfully. I don't want to step on Annabel's toes. But it's getting more and more difficult to simply go along with her plans when I don't fully agree with them—or agree with them at all lately. Her delivery also leaves much to be desired, to be honest.

"I think it's a little premature to decide on a permanent home when we've explored so little of this place," I finally venture in a mild tone. "Maybe there's something more suited to us out there."

Annabel scowls at me, her pretty features obscured by the expression.

"That's ridiculous," she snaps, brushing her long blonde hair behind her shoulder. I wonder if she spends time every night brushing it for a thousand strokes. She's the type to do something so frivolous. "We know it's safe here. Thanks to Gomul, we have food and shelter. Don't you remember how terrible it is out there? How hot, how desolate? It would be foolhardy to leave something like this behind." She shakes her head, glancing at the others. "No—we need to stay here, where the elder Zmaj has managed to keep us alive while we learn to fend for ourselves."

I shove another piece of fruit in my mouth to keep quiet.

I fully appreciate Gomul's kindness. When he found us, we were trying to escape pursuit from one of the crazy-dangerous animals on this planet.

The giant, hump-backed lizard thing with the razor-sharp teeth that Gomul called a guster could have easily killed all of us. Our ability to defend ourselves here is a joke. The sight of the Zmaj with his massive body, wings, and tail, his weapon slashing through the air, only underscored that fact.

He didn't have to take us in, provide shelter for us in his network of underground tunnels. He didn't have to donate one of the tunnels to us, give us a home when we really needed it. I can appreciate all that, appreciate the relative safety we've found here, but I don't know if that means we should keep building in this tunnel. Should we keep using all our time and energy to make this a permanent home?

Yes, it's reinforced and secure, a relic of an old civilization that obviously knew what they were doing. However, there's so much more to this planet, so much more we haven't even bothered to explore yet! Settling down here without even trying to see what else there is seems remarkably short-sighted to me.

Also, how are we still learning to fend for ourselves here? We've been here for years! If we don't know how to be self-sufficient yet, we're never going to learn. At least not here, where our basic needs are already taken care of.

I keep my head down as I swallow the food in my mouth. I don't know how everyone else feels. Are they battling the same volatile mix of emotions that keep rising in me?

Despite what Annabel thinks or says, I know that if I stay without at least trying to get out there, something inside me, something vital, will start to wither, especially under Annabel's leadership. She can be overbearing, stubborn in her views, seemingly uncaring of what everyone else really thinks as long as she gets her way. Being loud isn't a way to win an argument, not really, but I feel like Annabel is relying on that cheap tactic more and more the longer we're holed up here.

Even if this is the best place for us, we shouldn't settle here. At least, not yet.

I refuse to believe we're the sole survivors. We can't be the only ones. I know we're not. Not with that many people on board the ship! There are other survivors here on Tajss—I can feel that truth in my very bones.

If I'm right, our shipmates could be out there enduring the very worst this place has to offer while we sit here in relative comfort. The glaring sun, the heat, the dangerous predators, and even just the sheer difficulty of finding the basics of food and water. Never mind the fact that some of them were bound to be injured if they survived. Although Gomul has turned out to be our very own guardian angel, there's no guarantee that the others of his kind are cut from the same altruistic cloth. They could be antagonistic, even violent. Who knows?

All of that runs through my head while Annabel speaks. I can see now isn't the time to broach the subject. She already has that stubborn look on her face, the one that says nothing will change her mind right now. She'll only dig into her stance deeper if I say anything.

"Now, if we can just be efficient with this renovation, we can all be more comfortable," Annabel continues. "That means being careful and not wasting time tinkering with the tools," she adds, pointedly looking at Nora. "A little less air-headedness would be greatly appreciated."

Nora immediately looks down, hunching her shoulders and allowing her bangs to fall over her face. She often uses the curtain of her straight brown hair to hide if she doesn't want to engage.

Irritation rises in me as I see the gentle woman withdraw. I'm really starting to hate the little demeaning comments Annabel likes to make.

Nora isn't hurting anything. She just likes to tinker with things, likes to count them and study them. She was a lab clerk on the ship with a limited expertise in botany and pharmaceuticals. I don't know if keeping inventory was ingrained in her on the job or if the job was right for her because she has a slight obsession with it. In any case, it doesn't hurt anybody.

We need all the little joys we can get in this place to keep what sanity we can. The sight of her reaction to the comment is enough to throw me over the edge. I've used up all my restraint by this time. I know I shouldn't say anything, but—

"Nora is a dreamer," Nina inserts in her placating voice, attempting to soften Annabel's insult. Always the peacemaker, Nina is Annabel's PR pet. She uses that same soothing voice she once used to put clients at ease in the independently owned spa on the ship. Now she's constantly trying to smooth out that cutting edge to Annabel's increasingly tyrannical tone in "leadership."

I understand her need to keep the peace, to keep tension down. We need each other here. If we're always fighting, it will just make things harder for everyone. But when it comes to Annabel, I feel like her efforts are akin to slapping a Band-Aid on a gunshot wound. What's the point?

However, just like many times in the past, the addition of her comment does succeed in derailing the comment I was going to make, so maybe it's more effective than I think. Annabel sure is keeping the woman on her toes. Smoothing things over after her sharp comments is basically a full-time job.

Every time Our Glorious Leader feels challenged or her mood dips for who-knows-what reason, real or perceived, Annabel starts shooting out insults, as if putting everyone else down will improve her own mood. She's a bully, plain and simple. She doesn't even really appreciate Nina's attempts to keep the fights to a minimum. Like now.

Rolling her eyes, Annabel throws down the biscuit made from the underground rice Gomul harvests several times a year. Standing, she looks over her shoulder at me as she heads towards the dens.

"Clear the meal circle, Kate," she tosses out, the command curt and dismissive. Designed to be insulting. She really doesn't like it that I didn't agree with her.

I don't take the bait, even as I feel my cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment. Everyone else around me is silent in sympathy, which only makes things worse. I finish my meal quietly, then stand and leave, not looking at anyone when I do. I'm not following that order. Not this time.

Annabel's diva act is getting old.

I know my small rebellion isn't going to be without consequences, but I've had enough for tonight. I'd rather take the repercussions than follow along like a good little girl.

The next day, it doesn't take long for the fallout to rear its head. Annabel makes me pay for not falling in line with task after menial task.

"Go gather the herbs we need for dinner," she demands, that knowing glint in her eye. She's almost goading me into saying something, but I'm not going to give her the satisfaction.

So I go to the areas in the safe spaces of the tunnel system where the herbs grow. The walls shimmer, reflecting the light of the torch. Moisture, probably the most precious resource there is on Tajss. As I go deeper into the caverns the spot between my shoulders itches the entire time. The small movements I make echo in the dim rooms. It's safe; I know that. But that doesn't mean I don't feel creeped out going into the spaces farther away from the area where we mainly live down here.

It's fine. It's all in my hea—

My heart jerks in my chest as something loud bangs nearby. Looking around, eyes wide, straining to see past the flickering flames of the torch in my hand, it takes everything in me not to run back. I scan every shadow, each motion an undefined threat. Barely daring to breathe, my heartbeat loud in my ears, I strain for any hint of what caused the sound, skin crawling as I know I’m about to die.

Nothing happens. My heart slows and the hair on the back of my neck lies down. I’ve got enough herbs, Annabel can deal with it. Walking backwards up the tunnel, I turn around at last and manage to keep myself to a brisk walk instead of a flat out run. I’ll take my wins where I can get them.

When I make it back, I'm greeted with another unpleasant task.

Joy.

"Kate, you're going to have to wash another load of clothing."

Annabel's lips turn up slightly at the corners when she gives me that order, her eyes watching me expectantly. She's enjoying this.

I've already done my share of the clothes and she knows that. I want to tell her to shove them up her ass, but I grit my teeth and just do it. This won't kill me. It's just annoying. Like most of the things she does.

Interspersed with those tasks, she also adds multiple message runs to Gomul, ones that are clearly unnecessary, not at all urgent like she claims they are. Does she think I'm an errand girl?

My temper is building with each additional order she gives me, despite my intention to let everything flow off my back. I'm going to say something else she isn't going to like. I know I am. It's only a matter of time before I break under the mountain of tiny slights.

How does she think this is going to end? With me apologizing and kissing her ring?

I sigh as I make the trip to Gomul again. At least it gets me away from her pettiness for a while. That's something.

I turn the corner to Gomul's section of the tunnels, the metal framework just like ours, but the interior improved. He's had much more time to make his area a home. His bedroom is walled off, a kitchen and sitting area neatly organized just outside it. I've never seen things out of place. I wish I was as organized as he is.

When I arrive this time, there's a pot of something fragrant boiling over the fire, and he isn't surprised to see me show up with yet another message.

"Yes?" he asks mildly, stirring the hot liquid with a ladle.

"Annabel wanted me to let you know there are beasts circling outside."

I feel more than a little ridiculous relaying that particular message when he's survived here for who knows how long, completely by himself. I'm sure he's well aware of any dangers nearby. More aware than any of us likely are. When he smiles at me gently without acknowledging the message, I wince a little inside.

"Would you like to sit and enjoy a hot beverage with me?" he asks, gesturing to one of the stools he has set up around the fire.

I take a deep breath and let it out, my shoulders relaxing.

"That sounds wonderful," I say sincerely. I could use a breather. I've taken just about all I can take and I'm close to the breaking point.

Gomul nods, going over to a shelf and bringing back two cups.

He ladles some of the hot liquid from the pot into one of the cups and hands it over to me.

"Thank you," I say, taking it from him, cupping it with both hands. A sweet aroma wafts from it which I inhale deeply.

He nods graciously, filling his own cup. The firelight is kind to his lightly lined face, the silver streaks in his hair. He's older, though I don't know exactly how old, and I don't want to pry. The light also highlights his pretty scales, the iridescent surfaces eye-catching.

I take a sip of the drink. It's a gentle tea, one that feels soothing on the throat. Tension drains out of my shoulders and I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I didn't realize exactly how much I needed a break until right then. Keeping my guard up and fighting against my own emotions has taken its toll.

Gomul takes a seat across from me, taking a sip from his own cup. A moment of comfortable silence descends as we sit there with our tea. I'm staring at the flickering flames, my mind drifting, so I start a little when Gomul breaks the quiet. I don't expect him to break it the way he does.

"There are times when people find themselves in roles that feel uncomfortable." He looks up from his cup, meeting my eyes. "Often, the reason is that they are not suited to the role. Do not naturally fit into the parameters of it."

I frown. What is he trying to say?

"The group needs to work together," I finally say vaguely, not knowing how else to respond.

He must be speaking of my role, but he isn't being direct about it.

"Yes," he agrees. "Unity is often required for survival here on Tajss." He leans forward towards me, his gaze intent. "However, a spear is only good if the tip is sharp. Without a good leader, a group cannot be strong. Even if united."

Who he is speaking of now is quite clear.

"Annabel is trying her best," I venture, though the words sound hollow even to me.

Gomul sits back up, his shrug saying more than such a simple gesture should be able to.

"Perhaps. And if that is the case...then perhaps a new point is required." He tilts his head to the side, considering me. "Perhaps a part of the whole that does not quite fit in the role she is currently playing."

I narrow my eyes at him. His point is thinly veiled. Heck, there may as well be no veil.

"What are you trying to say?" I demand.

His smile widens, humor twinkling in his eyes.

"Strength often recognizes strength. And clashes with it. It is the nature of many creatures to fight for dominance." He raises a brow at me. "Isn't it interesting that Annabel so often finds herself at odds with one person in particular?"

I break the eye contact, not able to maintain it with that knowing gaze. It's too piercing. Too insightful. Too painful. Because he's right. The realization has been brewing at the back of my mind for a long time now, despite my efforts to push it away. That is a level of responsibility that feels overwhelming, scary. Maybe I've been suppressing it for too long. I’ve been ignoring what my gut has been trying to tell me when I should have been listening to it instead.

Gomul's right. Annabel isn't right to lead us, judging only by the direction she's taken us. We need to leave and find the others. If she refuses to see that...

Maybe Annabel shouldn't be in charge.