When the tremor stops, Ryuth goes back into the room we ran out of and carries our things out to the courtyard. At least there's no roof to cave in here. I arrange the bedding as he goes back to pull out the food we have stored as well. Good thing is, we're able to salvage almost everything despite the rubble.

Though I really am starting to wonder why this compound was built here in the first place. Maybe the tremors are a more recent occurrence? Though, even with them, I think this oasis is still an excellent place to live. I could handle some tremors in exchange for plentiful water and food sources.

When Ryuth brings our clothes, I reach out for mine, intending to get dressed. But he pulls them back and sets them over the lip of the dried fountain. Then he lays down on our bed and opens his arms, watching me expectantly.

I smile a little. "Not time to dress yet?" I tease as I step closer.

He shakes his head solemnly. "No." He frowns, again clearly struggling for the right words. Considering how long it's been since he's probably spoken, he's doing amazingly well. "I want . . . to hold . . . my treasure," he says haltingly.

Aw.

I'm not ashamed to say my heart melts a little at the words and the accompanying sincere expression. He means what he says.

I lower myself down to the bed with him and he wraps his arms around me, tangling his legs with mine. I like that he wants to be so close. I slide my fingers into his hair, just enjoying looking at him for a bit.

"I'm so glad you're coming back to yourself," I finally say, blinking back tears as the enormity of the change really hits me. I have someone to talk to now, someone who understands what I'm saying. I continue after a moment, after I have a better hold of myself. "I was getting kind of lonely listening only to the sound of my own voice," I say wryly, smiling slightly.

He brings a hand up to cover the back of mine, turning his head to kiss my palm before facing me again. "The bijass . . . is still . . . here," he says, pressing our combined hands to his heart. "Words are . . . difficult," he says, each one fighting its way out.

I nod, feeling sympathy for him rise. "I'm sure it's very difficult," I agree. "I can't imagine how difficult after not speaking for . . . " I frown. "How long were you lost to the bijass, Ryuth? How long has it been since you've spoken?"

He looks away, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular as he thinks. Finally, he shakes his head, his face twisted in frustration. "Long . . . time," he says, his eyes turning back to me. "Years. Many years."

I nod. That much is clear, but I don't push. He's obviously having difficulty accessing his memories. Like he said, he's not completely free of the bijass yet. "Do you remember what happened?" I ask, trying a different tact.

He shakes his head. "It is still . . . faded. Difficult to . . . reach." He pauses. "I remember . . . war. Devastation. Then I was . . . taken." Another pause as he leaves me, his mind absorbed in whatever memory he can reach. "I was . . . a . . . slave," he says in a low voice, horror in his eyes as they meet mine again.

My heart breaks for him. "It's okay," I reassure him, wrapping my arms around him and holding him close, his head cushioned against my chest. There's nothing I can do about what happened to him, though I so wish there was. All I can do is comfort him now. "You're safe now. You don't have to think about it anymore." I kiss his forehead, pressing my cheek against him.

I feel terrible for making him remember in the first place. My curiosity wasn't a good enough reason to make him recall painful memories. Maybe some of them were better left buried.

"My treasure," he says raggedly, his arms coming around my waist to squeeze me, pulling me even closer to him.

I run my fingers through his soft hair, wishing I could take away all that hurt for him. His memories are only just starting to come back. He's going to have years and years of terrible experiences coming back to him, seeping back into his conscious mind. Maybe the bijass isn't a curse. Or not completely a curse. Maybe it's also a blessing. A way to deal with the terrible in a way to keep the mind intact. A necessary defense mechanism.

"What about . . . my treasure?" Ryuth murmurs, raising his head after long moments.

"What about me?" I repeat.

"How did you . . . come . . . here?" He gestures around us, his eyes inquisitive.

"To Tajss?" I clarify. He nods. "Well. We left Earth, our home planet, on a ship. The plan was to reach a planet that we could colonize. Where the last remaining population of humans could survive and grow."

"Hu-mans," Ryuth repeats, focusing on my lips. "My treasure is hu-mans?"

I smile. "Yes, I'm human," I confirm. "Anyway, the planet we aimed for was so far away that whole generations of humans lived and died on that ship. And even more were going spend their entire lives on it before we would ever reach our destination. Including me. All I ever knew, all I was ever supposed to know, was that ship."

His eyes are intensely focused on me as I speak. I can see he's trying to separate every word, understand what it means. What I'm trying to tell him.

"Then why . . . here?" he asks again. "Not . . . right planet."

He's right. It isn't. My mouth tightens as I remember the attack on our ship. How many died. The smoke, the screams.

"We were attacked. By pirates. The Zzlo."

His snarl makes me pause, his face twisting in rage at the mention of his captors. Of the people who enslaved him.

"Zzlo," he spits out. "Must kill the Zzlo."

I rub his arm, hoping to calm him down. Not that I disagree with the sentiment.

"I'll be the last one to try to stop you from killing the Zzlo," I agree softly. He starts to calm as I talk, as I touch him. Coming back to himself again. I continue. "After they attacked, our ship crash-landed here on Tajss. And we've been here ever since."

Something about my tone must have alerted him that I'm not exactly ecstatic about that fact.

"You do not . . . like . . . Tajss?" he asks, his focus on my face sharp once again.

I sigh, shaking my head. "When we were on the ship, I complained just like everyone else did. About the food, about the close quarters, the lack of privacy. The desire to be outside, to travel like we saw in the movies we watched." I shake my head. "I never thought I'd actually ever get off that ship. I was born on it and meant to spend my entire life on it. To procreate, ensure that the race continued. To be a cog in the wheel of that well-oiled machine." I shake my head, remembering what now feel like much more minor complaints. I guess when death is a very real possibility, it puts everything into harsh perspective. "But Tajss . . . life here is hard, Ryuth. Really hard." I laugh as I look away from his eyes. "I'm sure you know that. But I'm not used to . . . this." I gesture around us. "The heat, the dangers, the lack of water. Maybe not here, but everywhere else." I look back at him, wondering if he understands or if I sound like a complete ninny. "It makes me miss the ship." I laugh harshly, shaking my head. "I never thought I would say those words if I was ever planet side. It's like a sick cosmic joke, you know? Here's what you always wished for. Don't you regret it now?"

A small silence.

It gives me room to regret saying all that. I immediately feel like a heel for complaining. Ryuth has been through so much more than I have.

"I am . . . sorry," he says quietly. "Tajss is not . . . easy."

I snort. "Understatement of the century." I study his face, comforted by just the sight of it. "I'm really glad you're coming out of the bijass, Ryuth. I feel so much less alone here," I say softly.

He nods, his hand moving down to rest on the small of my back.

"I am . . . glad. I want my treasure to . . . be . . . happy."

I've heard the other Zmaj call their women their treasures. I feel all warm and glowy inside knowing he feels like that towards me.

But . . . 

"Ryuth . . . " I reach back to take his hand in mine, pulling it up to rest against my chest, against my heart. I know he isn't going to like this. But I have to say it. "You know what would make me happy?"

He shakes his head.

"What does . . . my treasure . . . want?" he asks, his gaze intent.

I need to just spit it out. "I really . . . care about you Ryuth."

He smiles, his face softening. "I care about my treasure too," he agrees.

I smile back, feeling even worse. "But we can't live here by ourselves forever. We need the support of a group." I take a deep breath, my hand gripping his tightly. "I want to go back to my friends, Ryuth."

I can see only a flash of the pain he feels before his face shuts down almost immediately.

And I wonder if I've made a huge mistake.