"Holy balls," I exclaim, topping another dune.

It's clear what Ragnar must have seen way back there, the Tribe have tents set up outside a domed city and there are humans inside standing guard.

"The hell is this, some kind of Game of Thrones, Wildlings versus Northerners shit?" I curse.

What I wouldn't give for some cold Winter Is Coming right about now. My head is pounding and my joints ache, a deep throbbing pain that doesn't stop. Every step is an effort of will and if Ragnar wasn't helping, I know I would have given up miles back.

Topping yet another dune, we reach the first of the tents. The Zmaj of the Tribe sit around small fires talking. As Ragnar and I approach, they rise to their feet. A murmur spreads before us as we walk through the growing crowd.

Zmaj call out to Ragnar and he responds.

"Olivia?" Delilah's voice cuts through the noise.

"Delilah?" I ask, looking around, trying to spot her.

Suddenly she's here, her arms wrap me in a hug and we spin. She's laughing and kissing my cheeks.

"Hi," I say, laughing too.

"Damn it, I thought I'd lost you," she says, smacking me on each cheek once more with a wet kiss before letting me go.

"You can't get rid of me that easy!"

She puts her arm around my shoulders and walks with us. Ragnar leads the way through the tents like he knows where he's going.

"I'm glad you're here," Delilah says. "This has become a total shit storm."

"What's going on?" I ask. "How long have you been here?"

"We got here two days ago."

"Two days? Why the camp? Why aren't we all in the city?"

"Yeah, about that," she says. "Turns out they pulled the welcome mat when they saw us coming over the dunes."

"What do you mean?"

"They don't want us."

"Who doesn't? I mean, that doesn't make sense! Where's Lana?"

"She's stuck outside too," Delilah says.

Ragnar's friends, Bashir and Melchior break through the crowd to embrace him. The three Zmaj talk over each other with rapid fire words I could never follow. My handful of Zmaj isn't up to the task.

"Okay, back up. Seriously, she said we'd be welcome! How can they lock us out? The City is huge! Look at that? There's plenty of room for all of us and a thousand times more!"

"I know, right?" Delilah agrees. "Yet here we are."

Ragnar grabs my arm, pulling my attention. Anger dances in his eyes, his jaw is tight, the line of his lips hard, it's obvious he's pissed. He says something, speaking too fast for me to follow. I shake my head to show I don't understand. He frowns deeper.

"Lana," he says, speaking slow, enunciating carefully.

"Right," I agree. "Where is Lana?"

"She's with Astarot and the Tribe leaders up by the dome," Delilah says, pointing towards the city.

Ragnar looks in the direction that Delilah is pointing and nods. Still gripping my arm he moves, pulling me along. Delilah follows as do Melchior and Bahsir. We form a wedge cutting through the members of the Tribe on our way towards our goal.

The tents stop thirty feet from the dome. An empty, red no-man's-land lies before us. On the other side of the dome stand men with knives and sharpened sticks, glaring. There's a protrusion that must be an airlock and in front of this stands Lana, Astarot, and the Commander. Another Zmaj stands behind the closed doorway of the lock. All of them are talking.

"You can't be serious!" Lana screams, her face flushed with anger as she throws her arms up in the air.

Astarot says something. The Zmaj behind the door shakes his head, his wings opening part way and his tail rising straight up. His scales have a red tint to them I've not seen before in any Zmaj. He leans into his words, aggressive, and Astarot is motioning with his arms then throws them up in obvious exasperation.

The Zmaj inside the dome turns his back and storms out of the airlock. Another Zmaj is just inside the dome. He tries to stop the one storming away, placing a hand on his shoulder. The angry one jerks his shoulder away, yells something and holds his hands up in a threatening way. The other Zmaj holds his hands up palms out, shaking his head, then the angry one yells again and storms off.

The remaining Zmaj looks through the dome at those camped outside, frowns, then walks away.

"DAMN IT!" Lana yells. "You egotistical douche bag!"

She shakes her fist at the retreating Zmaj inside the dome.

"What's happening?" I ask as we arrive.

Lana turns, her face purple with anger. "My city, screw you buddy! Screw you and your damn city!" she yells over her shoulder.

Ragnar looks back and forth between Lana and I, then Astarot speaks, talking in rapid fire. His words are like bullets he's speaking so fast. Confusion, the entire world is swirling around and nothing makes sense. Grabbing on to Lana with both hands, I force her attention.

"What has happened? Why is everyone out here?"

"That asshole!" she yells, glancing back over her shoulder towards the city. "Screw you Ladon!"

"Lana!" I exclaim. "Calm down. What's going on?"

"He won't let us in," Lana says, and suddenly tears are streaming down her face. "He won't let us in."

I pull her into a hug as she breaks down. Sobbing on my shoulder, I let her hide her face while she regains composure. A sick, empty feeling forms in my stomach. We're stuck outside, without shelter. I don't think any of us even considered not being allowed into the city. Surely I can't have survived all that has happened, from the wreck, to the kidnapping, to a flipping world ending sandstorm to have it all end like this?

"Welcome to hell," Delilah says from over my shoulder. "The one she calls Ladon comes down once a day to tell us to go screw ourselves."

"You're kidding me?"

"No," Lana says, standing up straight and wiping the tears from her face. "That's the short version of it but that's what's been happening."

"But… he can't!" I sputter.

"It's his city," Lana says. "Or so he claims."

"There was another Zmaj there with him," I observe.

"That's Sverre," Lana says. "He's arguing for our side but Ladon isn't budging."

"But… why?" I ask.

Lana inhales deeply then lets it out in a long, slow exhale. "Sorry," she says. "I shouldn't lose my temper like that."

She talks rapid fire in Zmaj with Ragnar, Astarot, and the Commander. Delilah and I look at each other, waiting for her to translate. The Commander taps the ground with his staff three times before turning and walking away.

"We're screwed," Delilah sighs.

"No, not yet," Lana interjects. "We can figure this out."

"Look, I just got here and I don't know what's happening or why. Can someone please explain how we got to this point?" I plead.

"Edicts," Lana says. "It's all about the damn Edicts."

"Why?" I ask. "I thought they were good, that they helped."

"Sure, those who get it, those who follow them. Ladon doesn't. They're foreign to him. He wants to establish his dominance before he'll let anyone in the city."

"What does that mean?" I ask. "Can't they have an arm wrestling match or something?"

"It's not that simple," Lana says. "He has to beat the biggest and the best."

"What the hell? Is this some macho male bullshit?"

"Of course it is!" Lana screams, turning and making a rude gesture at the city beyond the dome.

"So why doesn't he fight and we move on?" I ask.

"Because the Commander won't agree to it. He says it would be a violation of the Edicts."

Closing my eyes I try to reason my way through the morass. Conflicting views, alien concepts, none of this makes sense.

"What about them?" I ask, hooking a thumb over my shoulder at the men standing along the dome with their sticks.

Lana sighs and her face looks crestfallen. "That's a whole other issue."

"One you failed to mention before?" I ask, sarcastic yet but that's the way I'm feeling right now.

Surviving all I've been through only to reach the end of the rainbow and find out some jerk stole the promised pot of gold.

"Look, it wasn't a problem when I left. It's still not a problem."

"Well what is it, exactly, that's not a problem?" I ask.

"Those are followers of Gershom."

"What's a Gershom?" I ask.

"Not a what, a who," she corrects me. "He's an asshole. He's been spouting Human First nonsense since Ladon found us. He's got followers who think we shouldn't be so… friendly with the Zmaj."

"Are you kidding me? Intergalactic racism?" Delilah chimes in.

"I wish I was," she says. "I think the technical term for it is xenophobia. They hate aliens."

"Beautiful, we've been set back centuries," Delilah says.

"I know, but it's fear. They're scared for their future. They see the alien men taking the human women and they worry if there are enough of us to go around. They're also scared what will happen to our race."

"So they want the Zmaj to die out and the human race to carry on, no matter what the girl wants? Are we talking forced breeding or what?" I ask, anger rising.

"It's not that bad, well for most of them," Lana says. "They don't think it through like that. Fear isn't rational."

"Oh well that makes me feel so much better," Delilah says.

"What a mess," I observe.

"Yeah, well we have to work this out," Lana says. "There has to be a peaceful resolution."

"So the Zmaj in the City don't follow the Edicts?" I ask.

"No," Lana sighs, throwing her hands up and shaking her head. "I never heard of them until we met the Tribe."

Ragnar says something, pulling Lana's attention. The two of them talk back and forth, leaving me with time to think. The tribe has their Edicts, rules that bring them together. I assumed all Zmaj had them, but obviously that's not the case. I don't know much about the Zmaj, only bits and pieces I've picked up talking to Lana and just paying attention. Random pieces of data I've put together. That's how my mind works, it's what made me good at my job on the ship.

Being a data analyst is nothing if not seeing patterns in information. Fine but how do I use what I know? How can I make this better?

Ragnar hisses, his wings spread and his tail goes still. He leans forward, aggressive, but Lana holds her ground, raising her voice.

"What?" I ask, stepping closer to Ragnar and putting my hand over his balled fist.

"He's an idiot!" Lana yells, then says something in Zmaj.

Ragnar hisses low, dangerous, and Astarot steps up beside her. Great, now these two will get into a fight. Just what we needed.

"Stop!" I yell, pulling down on Ragnar's arm.

Its ineffectual, he's stronger than I am and I know I won't move him if he doesn't allow me to but he lowers his fist, turning his head until our eyes meet. He says something I wish I understood. If only I could talk to him I know I could make things better.

Lana looks back and forth between the two of us, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. She knows what he said but isn't saying it out loud. Astarot says something but Ragnar doesn't take his eyes off of mine.

"Olivia," Lana says.

"What?" I ask, my hand on Ragnar's fist, my eyes locked with his.

"So… do you know…" Lana says, trailing off.

"Know what Lana?"

"How he, uhm, feels about you?"

"Yep, I think I do. Why?"

"Okay," Lana says. "Do you know… what that means?"

"Lana, tell me what he said. Enough beating around the bush."

"He said he'll take the city, for you, alone if he has to."

My heart melts. Why does a professed act of violence have this effect on me? I'm not even going to pretend to understand. He would do that for me. Because I'm that important to him. More important than anything else in the world.

Placing my hand on his cheek, I rise on my toes until our lips meet. He wraps his arms around me, lifting my off my feet. We kiss, in front of everyone, and I don't care. Let them stare. Let them see he chose me. I'm his, the only one he wants.

Lana clears her throat loud enough to cut into the moment. I break the kiss with great reluctance and Ragnar puts me back on my feet.

"So you're… okay with this?" Lana asks.

"How could I not be?"

"Okay, good," she says.

She says something to Astarot who smiles then steps forward and takes Ragnar's hand. He pulls Ragnar into an embrace, patting his back with his closed fist. The two Zmaj break apart and then that moment is over.

"Has anyone talked to the Zmaj inside about the Edicts?" I ask.

"Ladon isn't listening," Lana says.

"Why is it all up to Ladon?"

"The City is, technically, his," Lana says. "No one has challenged him on that. It's never been necessary before."

"But there are other Zmaj living in there with him."

"Yes, but they came one or two at a time. He could control them and establish himself as the dominant one," Lana answers. "This is more threatening."

Looking out across the tents dotting the desert it makes sense, in a primal, alpha male sort of way.

The only question is, how do we get past it?

A commotion on the inside of the city dome pulls my attention. The humans standing in a line along the dome have turned, too. Two Zmaj approach the airlock. It's the same two I saw before.

The one in the lead punches at the box next to the airlock then they enter. It swooshes as it shuts.

I'm holding my breath, waiting to see what happens next.

The crowd on our side murmurs and shifts as the Commander makes his way back.

Tension is so thick I could cut it with a knife. The oppressive heat beating down is making me light-headed. Maybe it's stress.

I have no idea what's about to happen, this could go wrong in an instant. I gasp a quick breath as the outer airlock door hisses, letting out the pent up air.

The Zmaj in the lead steps out, aggressive and angry looking.