containing the sacred waters for which so much blood and toil had been offered, we retraced our steps through the lava tube and the nesting grounds. Standing at the entrance to the tunnel that would lead us into the Black Mist Chamber, we set our inner visors to the enhanced digital map VELMA created and moved as fast as possible through the rock-strewn chamber. With guide rope at hand and ladder clearly marked, those of us in shel armor went first at the humans’ insistence.
“I will not rest until every last one of you is topside,” Esra said from the back, her external mic popping certain letters with emphasis.
“I think she means to say, “Move Faster”,” Joan said.
“Whatever you do, don’t reply to us!” Amity said. “Just keep moving.”
“They will,” Pattee interjected. “If only to get away from your nagging.”
Laughter rippled over us punctuated by the eerie sounds of a fading echo, and I moved faster.
A thousand rotiks later, Esra cleared the shaft’s opening and pulled up the ladder, rolling it into a cylinder.
Helmets removed, canisters upended over dry mouths, pallets spread upon the ground, and a glowing fire rod at our center, our company looked the part of surviving a harrowing yet successful quest. We sported dark crescents below our eyes, dusty gloves and boots, and postures that sunk lower with every passing tik.
Wishing for private moments with CeCe, I whispered in her ear, and she smiled. “CeCe and I will take first watch,” I said.
“I think they were asleep before you finished your sentence,” she said on our private channel.
“Do you wish to sleep?” I asked.
“No, I have to tell you about something that happened,” she said, and I heard a note of awe in her voice.
As she detailed her dream, I could picture the Goddesses of Shegoshel—inasmuch as they were depicted in art forms throughout the world on Ikshe. Always shown as beautiful and benevolent, always given credit for blessings and ignored in times of sorrow, I considered my perception of my people’s deity. Then I thought of the Sister-Queens. Patterned after the Holy Goddesses, they were meant to govern with a light and benevolent hand until times of strife, war or treason.
Adorned with victory braids, they resembled the goddesses further, at least in hair styling if not with individual features.
To think that the Ikma Scabmal Kama had performed the raxfathe on innocent CeCe—wearing victory braids—made bile rise in my throat. But CeCe’s dream was not about goddesses. It was about her dam, and I could tell the dream was precious to her.
“I still can’t believe it,” she said. “I know it was just the product of my mind trying to make sense of everything. Honestly, there could be traces of that neurotoxin in my system that would explain it. It just felt so authentic. So real. And so full of love. It was amazing. I wish you could have been there with me.”
“Joy suffuses me to hear you talk of it,” I said. “But do you recall what the two women looked like?”
“It was odd because I thought they were supposed to have a lot of white braids, but their hair looked like mine and my mama’s, except white. Close-cropped.”
“I sense you will share this account with me often in the coming years,” I said, smiling at the thought.
She laughed. “I bet you’re right. You know, the shel have been pretty quiet. I haven’t felt like racing through tunnels or climbing the walls. Do you suppose I’m acclimated?”
“Ik,” I said. “Or rather, they acclimated to you.”
“Thank you for that,” she said.
“For what?”
“For your confidence in me,” she said quietly. “From the very beginning.” I heard her take a deep breath, as she stood on the far side of the group to guard the shaft opening.
“I asked VELMA if she recorded your rescue of me,” she said. “And she did. So, I watched it.”
“My mate,” I uttered, the memories flooding my mind.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m okay. It bothered me that I couldn’t remember that part, and watching it was so profound. I love you. I’ll follow you to the end of time. You’re stuck with me, and I wanted you to know that.”
“Hunters fear nothing, least of all death,” I said. “Yet I fear what will become of us when we reach my ship. When we stand against corruption and deception in the coming days. Those with a strong faith will put their trust in their Gods, but I cannot give what I do not have. Will I be strong enough to protect you?”
“Raxthezana.” she caressed my name with her voice. “I’m afraid too. But I also feel empowered, thanks to you. I survived the raxfathe. And I will survive whatever Ikthe throws our way. And we’ll be strong together.”
“CeCe,” I said. “You are stuck to me as well, to use your phrase.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”