YAHIRO

Every bone in her body had turned to dead weight when she saw the last flight of stairs and the end of the golden railway come into view. She was exhausted physically and emotionally from the arduous journey but now that her eyes were on the vast structures over the top, she knew it had been worth every step.

Everything was light and mirrors, crystals and reflective surfaces. Even the buildings had a translucent, airy gleam to them. And from what she could see, there wasn’t a corner that was cast in shadow. Her eyes were blinded by it at first and although they had adjusted, sunspots stilled filled her vision.

Yahiro pushed herself over the last several steps. Her heart lightened and her excitement burst at the seams.

She glimpsed a pair of wings as she climbed the last step. Sundamar’s hand poised on her lower back. The link between them practically vibrated with energy when Galan came into view.

Her mouth dried up instantaneously and a sense of perfect harmony flooded her. Sundamar grunted next to her and helped her off the landing. Her eyes never left Galan.

“Hello,” she whispered, softly, shyly. His wings hooked over his back like talons while the longest feathers caressed the ground. They sparkled like the rest of the city that surrounded the courtyard they stood in.

His eyes narrowed on hers and he made no move to come closer. “Yahiro,” was all he said, his voice barely above a rasped whisper, nearly lost to the breeze. Her skin turned to gooseflesh as a needle-stab of unease shot through her.

Behind, a bell tolled, and shortly after, the city shifted under her feet. She startled and spread her legs for balance when Quist held her upright.

“The stairs are lifting,” he said. “We’ll be heading back to the world-path shortly. It’ll take some time to get used to.” She glanced his way and her disquiet grew. He’s upset? She then snuck a look at Sundamar but he had his back turned to her while he raised a translucent bell at his side.

Something was suddenly off. The knot in her stomach had distracted her enough to be ignorant of the change in mood. The pull to step into Galan’s circle built despite her apprehension, and she looked back his way. He was the tallest of the three, his wings bigger than Quist’s, and his eyes darker. His shoulder was marred with a fresh wound and...

“You know my name,” she whispered although he was a dozen yards from her.

“I saw your temple.” His response was abrupt and accusatory.

Quist stepped forward. “What’s wrong, brother?” The whip was already in his hand.

“Much.”

Yahiro suddenly wanted to be anywhere else in the universe than where she stood right now. The increasing clacking noises of the staircase folding behind her only heightened the tension. It got louder and louder as it was pulled toward the top.

He doesn’t like me.

She was trapped. Always trapped. But the connection forced her to move forward and confront Galan, so she placed her hand lightly on Quist’s arm and stepped past him. When she did, she perceived all the other details she hadn’t before. Her eyes flickered while her mind went a mile a minute.

She noticed the gun straps first and the tech from her homeworld attached to it. There were guns holstered at his side and a rifle across his back, its barrel peeking out from behind his shoulder. His shoulder wasn’t just recovering from any wound, it was recovering from a bullet. And although his chest was covered in the same soft cotton as Quist’s pants, Galan’s was soaked in sweat.

He didn’t make a move toward her as she closed the distance, her breaths becoming harder to pass through her closing lungs. Every one of her nerve endings frayed. She was drawn to him nearly against her will and when she stood within his circle, his body towering over hers, she clasped her hands together to stop herself from touching him.

His nostrils flared and her hair went on end. She shifted on her feet and frowned as he sniffed her, wishing she had met him under better, less grueling circumstances.

I wish I had met all of them that way.

His amber gaze held her down, pinned her in place, and searched her own for something she didn’t want him to find. Galan demanded her secrets without saying a word. She bit down on her tongue and stiffened her back. The rest of Sonhadra, including Sundamar and Quist, fell into the shade under Galan’s spotlight.

He lifted his hand and she flinched away, stopping him abruptly. His eyes darkened into rust. Yahiro swallowed and glanced at what he held.

It was a faded manila folder.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said more as a demand than a request. His fingers wrapped around her upper arm and he steered her toward the empty city streets. It occurred to her that she was about to wander a dead city, alone with an alien who looked possessed. An alien she wasn’t sure she’d be safe with. “Alone!” The footsteps behind her came to a stop and she could feel the worry and anger coming from her aliens. They shared a look between them and she assumed they spoke telepathically.

The connection they all felt grew worse again as Galan led her away. Yahiro withered under the pressure.

***

GALAN

He smelled the salty tang of her tears and before he could stop himself, he released his grip on her arm and wrapped his own around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Yahiro sniffled and jerked awkwardly against him. It made him want to fake ignorance, made him wish he could turn back time, but he couldn’t. What he could do was get the truth from her own lips.

“You killed innocents,” he said low enough that even his brothers who stalked them in the distance wouldn’t be able to hear. He closed off his mind to them; he didn’t want them to know Yahiro’s secrets. His secrets. Because they shared them now and no matter how grim they were, he didn’t—wouldn’t—share them unless Yahiro asked him too.

“Yes,” she sniffled. It unnerved him how small she was, so slight and willowy, it made her look like she could blow away with a strong wind. His hold on her tightened.

“And your Creator.”

“Yes.”

Quist spoke about killing Lusheenn, hunting him down, finding him, and meting out his own sense of justice. There was something more ruinous about actually doing it versus simply talking about doing it. He never thought Quist would ever find Lusheenn to exact his vengeance so he never worried about the heresy of it.

“Why?” he asked, knowing what the file had said, but he wanted to hear it from her. He stopped them in front of a fountain that was in the shape of the sun and showed her the translator behind his ear. She wiped her eyes, her lips pursing before straightening into a hard line. She stared at the spot behind his ear for a long time.

“Anger,” she breathed in English. “Betrayal, but mostly guilt. There’s a lot of reasons why I killed him, why I gored him. I shot him until every bullet was gone from Snake’s gun, and then I stabbed him until I was certain no amount of money or miracle could bring him back to life.

“I didn’t want his face to remain so I ruined that too. I was as high as the stars when I did it, and when I was sure he was gone from my existence, I killed everything else he touched. You wouldn’t understand... but he took something from me and twisted it. I loved him, love him so much and hated him too.”

It was hard for him to swallow, hard for him to watch the nightmare of it flitter past her eyes as she thought back. “And your... family?” The word family wasn’t from his world.

“I killed the guards next, there weren’t many. They were all half-gone in drugs themselves anyway. One happened to be another undercover cop like myself, but I didn’t know until afterward. The girls came after, the ones who worked for my father, not the products. I killed them quick and clean.” She laughed inwardly. “The products I left locked up, once again going back on my word. I had made an oath that I’d help them too, in some way. I guess I did, although it was by second hand. I’m not a good person.

“I poured water over the cases of drugs. I didn’t set them on fire. I wanted to be quiet and get away in the end, at least have the choice to, so I chose water. My mama didn’t know something was wrong until after I locked her in her room and left her. She wasn’t there for long. The authorities were already on their way before I had a chance to leave the building we lived in. We were rich you know? So rich that we even had a garden with trees and flowers, grass behind tall, solid walls and gates. We screamed wealth. We weren’t even part of the city. My family had land. Land! I was given everything growing up. I think my parents had a certain amount of guilt within them because of it.

“I wanted to wipe it all off the map. Everything. But my baby sister was still there, still innocent among the ruin, and so was Snake’s slowly dying soul. Snake was easy to take care of but I didn’t know what to do about Sophia. I planned on taking her with me in the end so I let her be, sleeping in bed. Getting lost on Earth was easy, so easy, and I knew all the ins and outs of the system, the criminal world, and law enforcement. The next step was just that, a step, and held no weight on my shoulders...” she trailed off.

Galan looked her up and down and knew she was telling the truth, but he couldn’t believe it. Yahiro didn’t look like a killer; she looked like a wisp.

She took the folder out of his hand and opened it, scanning the words like he had not long ago.

“They never told me what happened to them.”

“Who?”

“My mama and my sister. Even Snake. I never made it back to them before the place was raided.”

“Would you have liked to know?” he asked.

Her silky black hair blew across her shoulders and she took a deep breath. “No. I’d transfix on it. Once I was processed, I had all the time in the world to think. I liked to think they ended up okay. Except for Snake. I regret not killing him.”

Galan lifted her chin and guided her eyes away from the pages. “After this evening, you’re never allowed to think of him again.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Ever. Again,” he ordered, demanded.

“You don’t understand,” she said, pulling out of his grasp. “I’m a criminal. A criminal. I should’ve died in that crash. I should’ve been kept in a-a cell for the rest of my life. The moment I finally got free of William, I didn’t run or call for help, I killed. And I-I don’t regret it. He’s out there somewhere. I ran from the shipwreck like I ran from him.” Yahiro lifted her finger to the sky. “And I hate that.”

“How do you know he hadn’t died?”

“Because of the videos!” she practically shrieked. “The ones they forced me to participate in, day after day after day. Someone provided them to the police to destroy any credibility I had whatsoever, destroying years and years of working for the force, that even my handler, who hadn’t even tried to talk to me after I’d reemerged, shook his head at.

“No one cared that if I hadn’t done those things, innocent people would be brutalized. Why would they? I mean, those tapes were convincing.” Yahiro cried as she spoke but he made no move to comfort her, knowing the moment he did, she’d stop talking.

“I saw every single one. If I were a detective on my case, I’d have nothing to argue. I’d have to believe them.” She closed the folder in her hands. “In the end, I stopped caring and I stopped trying. It was easier to go mute and let the anti-anxieties and antidepressants take effect. I miss my sister a lot, even my mama, and... William, but I think I miss the anti-anxieties the most.” She sighed.

“Drugs,” he said, seeing words flash behind his eyes.

Yahiro rubbed her nose on her sleeve. “The prescription kind, yeah.”

Galan had no reference for them in his world but he knew what it felt like to be out of his own skin; right now he felt wholly on edge, and his heart pounded for two valos and not one.

He remembered the deathlike state he was in a dozen day cycles ago as clear as daylight. He felt now. It was harder to focus, harder to breathe, the light felt brighter, and there was a jump to his step. If there was a drug he could have taken, back when he was a ghost, that would make him feel how he did now, he would’ve taken it. If he could have had the female in his life long before now, he would have. The more he thought about it, the more he grieved for her. He was beginning to understand.

“I miss a lot of things actually,” she continued before he could respond. “I miss having a hairbrush and pizza. I miss my friends at the precinct and the coffee runs. I miss the good days where I put criminals like myself behind bars.” Yahiro sat down at the edge of the fountain. “I’d like to celebrate Christmas again and spoil my sister with presents. I really miss dogs... and cats, and I think I’m never going to get over not having underwear here.”

She went on and on, crying through it all until the sun lowered and purple clouds filled the sky below them. He learned much of her world and as she spoke Galan realized one thing: Sonhadra, even in all its glory, was nothing like Earth.

He sat down beside her, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and draped his wing over her head and back to shield her from the cold. The tips of his ruffled feathers swayed in the watery fountain base.

He pulled a small metal disk from his strap and handed it to her. “Can you show me these things?”

Silently, she took it from him, pressing a button and turning it on, creating the electric blue energy he had seen so much of at the human’s temple. The light it cast didn’t absorb into his skin but it did widen his eyes. I’ll never get used to human creations.

“How did you get this? All of this? Did you really find the ship?” Images appeared on the screen as she swiped the disk.

“Where there are others like you, yes. I came upon them following an acrid smell.”

She glanced at him, her tears dried, but her eyes were red and puffy. “Were there others like me? Females I mean, in orange garb? Were they okay? I feel horrible now that I’m safe and they’re not. I want to go back and save them. I want them to be safe too.”

Galan debated on whether he should tell her about the human, Brailen, and shooting him through with an arrow. He decided against it since he wasn’t female, nor was he in orange. “There were females in orange clothes. I don’t like this color on you,” he said gently, touching her sleeve. “The one who gave me this,” Galan pointed at the webbed white scar on his shoulder, “was a female named Annie.”

“Annie?” Her eyes lifted to the horizon and narrowed. “What about a Preta or Charlie?”

“I don’t... know.”

Her expression sobered again and he didn’t like it. “I can go back and lead them to Dawn if you wish.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No.”

She tilted her head at him. “Why? What happened?”

“The ak’rena came and their blood soaks the ground. It’s no longer safe during the night. It draws more... predators. The carrion bugs will rule during the day and the wall of corpse husks will make you sick.” Yahiro blanched but he continued, “All the humans lived and they were still alive this morning.”

“And tonight!?”

“Tonight they have their guns back.” He rubbed his wound. “And a stable barrier to shoot behind. If they haven’t already left.” If he knew anything about Earth and its weapons, it was that they were beyond dangerous. It made him all the more aware of the gun pressing into his back.

They sat together in silence until dusk vanished and a bright stone formed over her chest. His eyes caught the translucent edges before it solidified into a real shape. Galan had never seen the like of it anywhere on Sonhadra and he knew, instantly, that it was Lusheenn’s heartstone. His eyes couldn’t grow wide enough to take in its brilliance.

He longed to touch it, cup it in his palm, and feel the power of his Creator again, but was more concerned for Yahiro’s well-being. The light flared over him and strengthened as the city went dark and the shadows appeared.

He finally realized what had drawn him and his brothers so strongly to it, to her. Somehow, this female had not only found the fabled stone but had also activated it.

She caught him staring and picked the stone up between them. “I came across it the first night here,” she whispered, “before Quist found me. It was in a swamp and I cut my foot on it while I was running. It was so black out that I couldn’t see anything, but then this started to glow under the water. I think it knew I was afraid of the dark and that I needed light.” She squeezed the stone before letting it drop on her chest.

“I’m glad you found it.” He swallowed before lifting his gaze to her face.

“Or it found me. Galan...” She moved to stand up, using his body to right herself. “Why is your city empty?”

Absently, Galen picked up the file, rolled it up, and stuck it in his belt. “Once Lusheenn vanished, one by one, from the newest created to oldest, the light valos turned back to clay and their spirits forced into the abyss. When one died, the next in line began. Annahs, the fourth valos, recently bowed below a ray of sunlight and... never got back up.”

She trembled on her feet and he lifted her in his arms, carrying her the rest of the way through the city.

“Does that mean...?”

“Quist is next.”

“We need to find Lusheenn and bring him back,” she said quickly. “Or kill him. We can’t let Quist die! I can’t go through that again.”

Galan squeezed her softly, knowing the pain of loss would eventually happen, regardless, still feeling the loss of their fourth, fifth, even their sixth brother in his soul.

“He may not die... now that he has a reason to live.”

Throughout the city, statues of past light valos littered the streets and buildings, most solidified into final poses and many, especially the older ones, crumbling to dust. He led them through the worst of it, the bowed dozens before a crystal and gold statue of Lusheenn before he carried her to the throne room. They walked by Annahs, and his heart sank when the heartstone illuminated his lifelike features.

But he didn’t awaken.

“What happens now?” Yahiro asked him, her head turned to his chest and half buried in his shirt.

“I take care of you.”

“And the file? My past?”

“Yours to keep to yourself, between us, or to share.” He nuzzled her hair, breathing in her scent.

They entered the bathing pools and he set her down on a cushioned bench. The stars of the night sky reflected off the mirror-still waters. There were few ceilings in the City of Dawn, and those that had them were strewn with diamonds and star-like gaps.

He stripped off his buckles, weapons, and clothes, and when he set aside her file, she picked it up and looked at him shyly. The joints of her fingers turned white with strain. Without a word, she placed it in the water until it was thoroughly soaked and the ink bled throughout the pages, and then she lifted it back up to tear into pieces. What was once a file was now only a pile of wet mush.

They discarded her past silently, just the two of them, and watched the soggy pieces fall like dead-weight off the side of the molo.

Galan pulled Yahiro into his arms and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Never think of him again.” She slowly nodded and he brushed his lips across the curve of her lobe, and down to her cheek where he lowered his mouth and shared his breath with hers.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. His pulse thumped and he pulled her to him, running his hands everywhere he could touch, anywhere he could get to on her body. Her feet lifted off the ground and she hooked them over his hips, his hands pulling her farther up his body. The floor shook as Dawn flowed through the sky as its monstrous support made its way back to its rightful track.

He walked them to the water, and with his pants on, her clothes still in place, dipped them into the pool. Her eyes shut while his remained opened, not wanting to miss a moment of the starfields swaying in rivulets over the surface.

Their lips touched. The word kiss appeared bold and hot in his head.

Galan tore off her clothes, ripping the dirty and frayed material down her chest, dragging her cut up pants off next.

She released him and leaned back into the crystalline water until her hair flowed out like black silk, ashen obsidian around her head. He leaned over her and dipped them both under the chill water, taking her lips again for his own.

They came back up for air sputtering and a soft, subtle, beautiful sound filled his ears. His mouth twisted into a grin when he realized she was laughing. It was low but it was there and unmistakable. But he wasn’t about to point it out.

With one arm around her middle, he dragged her to the side where a bowl of molten liquid light sat. A scoop of it was enough food for days, a cure for all illnesses, and a cleansing agent.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he told her again. Her countenance faltered but she stood up in the pool as he let the liquid slide out of his palms to drop slowly over her head. Watching the dew glisten over her black as midnight hair did something to him. It reminded him of the Shadowed valos but it looked like conquest in its rawest form.

First, he scrubbed her hair, touching, and testing, flicking and smoothing every tendril there was. Her eyes closed and her lips parted but he didn’t stop except when he would press his lips to hers. His fingers left her hair to trace over her pulse, the patter of it wild yet in control. The air that escaped her lips working in tandem.

He drank her in.

Galan hovered in front of her jittering pale body, and his damp wings curved in a thick arch around them. Now and again a lost feather would float by her hips and she’d play with it with her fingers.

‘Let us join you.’

‘Isn’t she perfect?’

‘She smells like the sun right before it falls to night, and right before it reclaims the morning.’

He ignored his brothers who had joined them in the bathhouse but kept their distance. They acted as sentinel protectors that watched with poignancy on the outskirts. They were aware of everything else while he was only aware of her.

Liquid light dripped down her skin in beads of gold, staining her body in its path. His lips followed what he could and licked up what fell behind.

‘She’ll die if you don’t mate with her.’

He knew the truth and smirked, burying his face into her neck. His fingers spread the gold down her back, over her rippled spine, and to the crux of her buttocks. She’s pliant and trusting. She wants only me.

Galan lifted her up and out of the water, watching her eyes open in question as he placed her legs back over his hips.

Thoughts and images flashed before his eyes. Earth traditions and fetishes. Love making and sex. Mating. He blinked them back and reached down to tug his sodden pants below the hook of his dick. He took her breaths while her fingers gripped his shoulders and her nails dug into his skin. Lusheenn created him in a state, perpetually in need, and yet his self-control was hammered over every fiber of his being like an unbreakable diamond.

His female wiggled over his pulsing tip, breaking whatever restraint he had left into a million fragments. Galan surged deep into her with one uncontrollable thrust.

“Curve your lips for me,” he breathed over them. When he felt the twitch of her cheeks, with his arms hooked behind her back, he began to move.

He vibrated with sensation and her sex gripped him tight while she moved like a wave that he crashed into each time. I waited my whole existence for her.

Yahiro gasped and moaned, titillating his senses, driving him toward the edge, locked on him and still retaining a control that made him want to press her into the cold stone ground and use violence.

“Galan...”

He plunged as far as he could over and over again, taking it all.

“Galan!” Her voice was more frantic. He moved faster. The tight walls of her wet sex. Pussy. Cunt. Quim. It demanded his ending. And with a roar he gave it to her, his wings shooting outward and away from his body, bladed with a thousand razor-sharp knives. She wrapped her body around him and rode out his release as he held her in place.

They didn’t move for some time until Sundamar ventured into the water and took Yahiro from his arms. Galan gave her up with a final squeeze, knowing she was beyond the throes of tired and well into sleep. He watched his brother take her away and up into the aerie where they slept. When they slept.

He stayed behind and forced his body down from the high it had sustained; it was difficult, knowing he could climb the steps to the top of the throne and find Yahiro to sate him again.

He unclenched his hands and tempered his desires as he waded to the edge of the pool where Quist perched with narrowed eyes.

The stone had gone with Sundamar and Yahiro, and the light had dimmed between them into a tenuous strain.

“Lusheenn is near.”

Galan rolled his jaw. “He’s not coming back.”

“He’s already back.”

“Quist... he’s not here. He’s never coming back. What you feel...”

“Hatred. I feel hatred.” The way his brother said it threw him. Galan exited the bath and pulled up his soggy pants, watching his brother the whole time. Tension radiated off of him. He’d forgotten what it was like to be in Quist’s presence and the amount of feeling the younger valos contained. Even when they were dead inside, a spark had always remained active inside him. Now his eyes flared with it.

“You’ll frighten our female if you remain like this.” You’ll frighten me.

Quist’s eyes lightened some and the points of his feathers relaxed but his countenance remained. “I don’t want to but I won’t leave her side.”

“Does that mean you’re staying in the city?”

“Unless she leaves, yes. I’m staying. I promised her no harm while she is within my sight.”

“And yet, she’s not in it now,” Galan said, glancing at the way Sundamar had gone with her. Already, he was being pulled in her direction. His stomach knotted and he took a step toward her before he remembered his brother.

“I don’t know what to do, Galan.” Quist’s voice held a plea.

“About Lusheenn or about Yahiro?”

“Both!” His brother rose and his wings arched out, tense again and scrapping the stone floor. The sound of a hundred tiny screeches filled his ears. “He’s here!”

Galan’s jaw ticked.

“Even if you don’t believe me, he’s here and I want him nowhere near her!”

He approached Quist and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go to bed, brother. She’ll be safe between our bodies, and once we’re back on the trail and following Sonhadra’s endless dawn, we’ll figure out a plan.”

Their images mirrored in each other’s eyes. Galan squeezed Quist’s shoulder and took his hand back, not liking what the younger valos was making him feel.

Afraid. Quist made him feel afraid.

***

LATER THAT NIGHT, AFTER Quist and Sundamar had fallen asleep upon the pillowed aviary above the throne on either side of Yahiro, Galan paced back and forth. The paper image of Yahiro was bunched up in his hand.

He’d stare at her, sleeping, like a wilted flower, so beautiful it made him hurt, and then he would remember the picture of her, half-destroyed by the horrors of her life. Galan would go from her present to her past feeling at a loss for what he should do.

Maybe if Lusheenn is back... It could be a blessing. His eyes narrowed on the bright stone resting on her chest. I don’t feel him. He looked back down at her picture.

She wasn’t a valos. He knew a lot more about her than his brothers did and knew that she could be killed in a thousand more ways than they could. He hadn’t thought about it, not until Quist had approached him, but he did now.

The rapidly fraying picture of her crinkled further in his fist. The molo took another giant step toward the world-path.

“Everything will be better come dawn.” Galan forced himself to take his own advice and steeled his resolve. With one final look at the picture, he chucked it over the side and watched until it was lost in the night.