The walls of the great starship glowed with internal light. Kirian listened intently to the toning adepts seated in front of him and in the three other sections around Rinzen’s central chamber. The intricate chords from each specialized group wove and blended to make the wide chamber ring like a bell. As leaders of the transport group, he and Selina sat with their backs to the wall of the enclosed private room at the heart of the ship where Rinzen’s spark couple opened the gateway for the starship to connect with Lyonnae’s core.

As usual, the sound constructs created by each team were razor sharp and strong. His people were good, masters of their craft, dedicated to perfecting their ancient art in spite of the onerous conditions which shaped their existence.

Good work. Let’s finish off for the day, he instructed over the internal link connecting everyone in the room.

The sound shifted to a sequence which would bring Rinzen’s energetic bond with the planet’s core to a ginger close. As the toning tapered to a single note, the light within the walls softened to a muted glow. The entire ship would stay lit for several days before the charge gradually dissipated back into the ground. In space, it would last for weeks.

Kirian remained seated with his eyes closed while the adepts got up from their long practice session and stretched their limbs. “Team leaders, would you please remain?” he called out as people slowly began to disappear from the chamber. He waited silently until he heard the footsteps of several people approach and seat themselves in the vacated section in front of him. When he opened his eyes, the worry he had worked so hard to suppress during practice came spilling out.

“I can’t reach Senga,” he said raggedly. After the last attack, the elder Makhás had taken on the treacherous task of infiltrating the southern Shitza capital of Edu to see if he could find any clues as to why the bombings had started up again after such a long surcease.

“That’s not good. When did you last hear from him?” Arman queried, his deep voice filled with concern for his mentor and team partner.

“Night before last. I tried finding him this morning before we started toning and got no answer to my call.”

“I just tried to open a link myself and got nothing either,” Kalden stated, glancing aside at Tenzin before lifting troubled eyes to Kirian. “He’s either unconscious … or dead.”

No one spoke into the uneasy silence. The colony hadn’t lost anyone directly to the Shitza since they were driven underground decades ago.

Kirian rubbed his hands over his face and exhaled a taut breath. “I should never have agreed for him to go down there.”

“It’s not your fault, Kirian. Don’t take that on,” Kalden replied firmly.

“He said he was well hidden, Dad,” Anil contended. “Wasn’t he staying at some rundown place near the docks?”

“Yeah, but you know Senga. He’s so damned determined when he sets his mind to do something. He’s probably taken all kinds of risks that none of the rest of us would, just to find out something that might help us. Kirian, did he give you any clues about what he was doing when he reported in?”

The young leader frowned and nodded his head. “He said he’d been planting sigils at night inside government offices so he could tap into conversations during the day.”

“That alone could get him shot,” Kalden scowled. “Did he pick up anything noteworthy?”

“It sounds as if Chao Rong is struggling to hold onto his power.”

Selina snarled in the chair beside Kirian. “Vicious bastard—thanks to him, our whole culture’s been decimated, not to mention hundreds of thousands of Ustagi people murdered when he razed the northern cities.”

“He’s well hated by the entire Shitza population, little one,” Tenzin asserted. “Chao Rong is just the latest in a long line of tyrants. The Shitza elite were providing the Drahks people and technology long before I was born. The slave trade through Edu has been going on for centuries.”

“Then why didn’t they try to wipe us out before they did?” Selina wondered. “The Makhás were always pacifists and wouldn’t have fought back.”

The elder raised her brows in conjecture. “I believe the yeshes were quietly sending large sums of money to the central regime to keep them at bay. Our off-world trade was very lucrative.”

Kalden chimed in beside his mother. “I remember Yeshe Choden telling us she thought Chao Rong had been pressured by Overlord Eo to take over our ships. The Drahks have always demanded new technology.”

“That’s just crazy,” Nandi threw in. “They wouldn’t be able to fly the Khalamas if they had them. Do they know anything about using sound or sex or geometry? If they found one of the ships intact, it would just look like a huge rock. They couldn’t even teleport inside.”

“All true, my dear,” Tenzin replied. “But the power of love can be used quite effectively in controlling other people. They want us, too, remember. The reptiles and their Shitza lackeys wouldn’t care if they could run the technology or not, as long as they could make us do it for them.”

“Do you think they even know that the ships are sentient?” Anil inquired.

“Probably not,” Kalden supplied. “They most likely dismiss the common lore about them as fairy tales. I’m sure it’s never occurred to them that even if they captured us, the ship herself could simply shut down and refuse to fly.”

“In which case, they’d just destroy her,” Kirian added dismally. “Sorry, Rinzen.”

No need to apologize Yeshe Vall. I’m well aware of what my future would be like with the reptilians or lions.

“Kiri, we need to leave Lyonnae,” Selina remarked despondently, turning miserable gray eyes to his.

“I know,” he answered, reaching over to squeeze her arm reassuringly. “We still have to figure out how to repair the portal.”

“The Shitza had a Drahkian warship with them in the first attack,” Kalden spat with remembered anger. “Something on that ship mangled the energetic threads and rewove them into patterns we couldn’t change.”

“Only Torma and her crew got out that day,” Tenzin said softly. “We weren’t fast enough. After the portal was damaged and locked down, we couldn’t even reach anyone to call for help.”

“Even if we made it out, where could we go?” Anil threw out. “Sirius is a loss. Most worlds are either owned by the Drahks or their governments are allied with them, like the Shitza. We were one of the last pockets of free trade in the entire system. What about any of your old trade partners, Dad?”

“I don’t know, son. We still can’t make contact with anyone outside of Lyonnae,” Kalden replied. “We’ve tried for years.”

“That just doesn’t make any sense,” Kirian interjected with a frustrated exhale. “Psychic connection has nothing to do with portal energetics, at least that I’m aware of. We should still be able to speak with people off-planet.”

“None of us get it, Kirian, but the sad fact is, the people we used to deal with haven’t heard from us for over thirty of our years,” Kalden remarked sourly. “I’m sure they all think we were wiped out ages ago. And who knows how many of them are still free of Drahkian rule.”

“We’ll just have to keep looking for answers. Kalden, you and I will keep up our attempts to get through to one of your old contacts and we’ll all keep practicing the stargate configurations we know. One of these days it’s going to pay off.”

“Yes, it will, son of Sundar,” the elder replied with a proud nod at the younger man. “I knew we chose you for good reason.”

Kirian!

Senga’s deep rasping voice tore through Kirian’s mind like a blazing torch. At once alarmed and relieved, he jumped to his feet and closed his eyes to focus on the contact. “It’s Senga!” he cried out. “Everyone in on the link!”

Senga, where are you? Are you alright?

I … I need some help. My chest—

I’m coming to get you! Arman shouted across the link. Is there room? It’s dark wherever you are—I can’t see anything.

Yeah, I’m in a tunnel underneath the Portal Center. I need to get out of here, but I can’t think straight.

Kirian opened his eyes and found the big bellmaker watching him tensely, waiting for his nod. “Go! Bring him here—we’ll get Asti.” In the next instant, Arman disappeared from the room.

“I’ll get her,” Selina volunteered, closing her eyes to put the call through to the scholar who also served as the colony’s healer.

Arman, did you find him? Kirian pressed anxiously, keeping a firm hold on the link with his friend.

Yes, he’s bleeding badly. We’re coming through!

“Let’s make some room, quick!” Kirian exclaimed as the others stood and hurried to push cushions and chairs out of the way seconds before Arman’s large form reappeared with the husky elder in his arms. The bellmaker bent down on one knee and gingerly lowered Senga to the floor in front of him while Nandi rushed to place a cushion beneath the elder’s tawny head.

Kirian knelt down and grabbed Senga’s hand. “Asti’s coming,” he choked out around a tightening throat as Kalden, Anil and Tenzin huddled in close.

The elder cracked his eyes open and grinned up at the somber young yeshe. “No need for the dour look, Kirian. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Tough old bastard,” Kirian muttered, squeezing the man’s hand as Asti popped into view in the empty space between the sections of chairs, her arms laden with blankets, bandages, and a basket of herbs and wet cloths.

“What’s this man done now?” the healer grumbled with feigned impatience, dropping her supplies to the floor and kneeling next to Kirian. “Let me see,” she murmured, reaching out to lift Senga’s arm away from his bloody chest. “Oh, it’s only a disruptor blast, Master Shengeti. You’re lucky you didn’t go up in a puff of smoke.”

Senga laughed softly, his eyes glistening with the pain he was working hard to hold in. “Am I in trouble?”

“You bet your hide, mister,” Asti scolded gently as she handed Arman a wad of cloth, giving him quiet instructions as she went to work cleaning up Senga’s damaged flesh.

Kirian held on tightly, giving Senga something to grip while Asti washed out the deep burns in the elder’s furred chest. He knew it was irrational to feel guilt over the man’s scrape with violence, but the twisting in his gut was there nonetheless.

When the healer finished dressing and bandaging the wound, she raised a hand and glanced around the group, asking for their help in sounding out a healing matrix, but before she could begin, Senga opened his eyes and looked at her sharply. “Don’t put me to sleep,” he grated insistently.

“Alright, we’ll just do something for the pain and to step up your body’s healing. You’ll probably sleep most of the next few days anyway.”

Senga nodded gratefully and his hand relaxed in Kirian’s grip. Asti began the toning with a soft note while the others joined their voices around hers, following her mental directions for shaping the sound, ending some moments later when she raised her hand to close off the formation.

The elder took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thanks. It’s better already.”

Kirian lowered Senga’s hand onto his bandaged chest and released it, patting it firmly. “Now, do you want to tell us what you were doing in the Portal Center?”

The elder Makhás looked up at him through narrowed lids. “I wanted to see if I could figure out how they control the primary portal.”

Arman’s brows furrowed with confusion. “But they’ve always used silicon-based technology and electronic gadgets.”

“That’s what I thought,” Senga replied, turning his eyes to his team partner. “But whatever they’ve got installed now is definitely not silicon electronics. I could feel something strange when I was underneath the building sending a scan into the interior. It was like a—a dark ball of potent, jagged energy.”

“Was it sentient?” Kirian probed.

Senga rolled his head back and forth on the cushion. “It wasn’t a mind or personality, so I assume it’s a physical construct of some kind. I couldn’t get a lock on the chamber where I sensed the device was housed, so I searched for a dark, empty room as close to the thing as I could get where I could hold a stable matrix and transported in. It’s been a piece of cake to get in and out of the capitol offices and plant sigils without being seen. In and out in seconds. But not this.”

When the elder’s face clouded with unspoken thoughts, Kalden prodded his friend to continue. “Senga, what happened to you in there?”

Senga looked up at the other elder and then back at Kirian. “My mind kept fuzzing around the edges. Every time I tried to send a probe into the room with the device, it dissipated. My sigils wouldn’t hold together for more than a few seconds, even in the room where I was hiding. They just melted like water. I tried to contact you, Kirian, and couldn’t make the link open. Whatever that thing is, I’m sure that’s what keeping us from making off-world contact. It must affect the planetary grid in the upper atmosphere that’s tied into the portal.”

Kirian let out a long, disgruntled breath. “It’s got to be some kind of Drahkian technology.”

“The good news is that the device has the identical energetic feel as the disruption that locked down our portal during the invasion. They must have employed the same kind of device somewhere on the plateau after the portal was broken—”

“—and it disappeared,” Kirian finished in a whisper. “No longer needed when they thought we were wiped out.”

The elder nodded. “If we can repair the portal, we should be able to get out.”

Kirian turned his head to look at his twin as a small flicker of hope kindled in his chest.

“The bad news is Chao Rong now knows for sure that we exist,” Senga grimaced, his features twisting with scorn, “because of my own fucking incompetence!”

Kirian looked back down at the distraught elder who had lowered his eyes and wouldn’t meet Kirian’s gaze. “Oh, no you don’t,” he countered, slipping his fingers around Senga’s wrist to grip it tightly. “It’s my job to be dour. Let’s get one thing straight—there’s nothing incompetent or weak about you, tiger of the Makhás. Just what is it you’re blaming yourself for?”

Senga growled as he exhaled. “Those last bombings were nothing more than a shot in the dark. Stories have floated down from the mountains about ‘magical bell people’ which made Chao Rong wonder if any of us were still alive. He’s losing credibility with the Drahks, so he ordered the bombings to see if he could scare up anything valuable to hand over to them. And now that I’ve been seen—” He bit off his words, shaking his head in angry disgust.

“Are you certain they even realized who you were?” Nandi asked above him. “You don’t have tiger markings.”

“I’m sure they have a good idea. I was focused on trying to get a link open to Kirian when someone came into the room and flipped on the lights. My reflexes were sluggish and he fired several shots before I could pull together a matrix to transport back down underground where I must have passed out.”

“It’s a wonder they didn’t find you,” Kirian declared. “I tried to call you several hours ago before we started practice.”

“We thought you were dead,” Selina piped up, shaking Senga’s boot with sorrowful eyes.

“No such luck, kitten,” the elder grumbled before looking up at Kirian again. “I’m sorry. I should have gotten out of there the moment I knew something was wrong.”

“What’s done is done, Senga. There’s no blame here. You risked your life to take care of all of us. What you found out at the Portal Center is invaluable. We’ll just have to see what Chao Rong and his cronies decide to do about us. Just rest now and heal.”

“Kirian,” Arman said softly with his arms crossed in front of him. “We still need eyes in Edu.”

Kirian’s stomach twisted with a fresh wave of apprehension, knowing exactly where his friend’s thoughts were headed. “We can listen in through the sigils Senga already planted in the capitol building.”

“That’s not enough,” the bellmaker retorted. “If Chao Rong’s about to topple, we need to know which way the wind is blowing. The Drahks are an unknown quantity and if they move in with more surprises we don’t know how to counter, we could all end up dead. Or worse.”

Kirian stared into Arman’s golden eyes, loath to admit his friend was right and that their survival could hinge on staying ahead of the political struggles in the far-off Shitza capital.

“It has to be me, Kirian, and you know it,” Arman insisted in a low voice. “Besides Senga, I’m the only one with mixed blood who can pass for a Shitza. You used to tease me when we were kids for not having stripes. Now it’ll pay off,” he said with a wry smile.

With a reluctant sigh, Kirian nodded. “Alright, but stay out of the Portal Center. I don’t want any more scares like today, you hear me? Have pity on my poor heart.”

“I’ll take it easy and keep out of sight, I promise,” the bellmaker assured him with an easy smile.

“Niyal’s going to kill me,” Kirian muttered. “He’s already overworked as it is.”

Kalden raised a hand to reassure him. “Don’t worry about it—we’ll get him some help. Some of your students have an overabundance of energy that could be put to good use.”

“There’s something else we need to think about,” Anil interjected. “If the Shitza take those stories about bell people seriously, they may start hunting for us up on the surface.”

“By the Prime, that would be really dangerous for any of the mountain people we trade with,” his wife pronounced.

“And Minla,” Kirian added with utter dread. “Kalden, has anyone picked up any troop movements away from the garrisons scattered around the plateau?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but it’s something we should start watching for.”

“Double the scans through the wards. I don’t care what other chores get pushed aside. Pay close attention to anything military moving out into the mountain villages.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Good call, Anil,” Kirian commended. “Anything else we need to focus on for the moment? If not, let’s get this man to his bed so he can sleep.” He placed a hand on the elder’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Thank you for what you did for us. I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re back in one piece.”

Senga nodded and blinked groggily as the recuperative demands of his body took over. Asti gathered her things quickly and looked over at Selina. “Would you mind helping me, just to get him settled in his chamber? I’ll stay with him after that.” Kirian rose and backed away while the two women wrapped the wounded elder in blankets and whisked him off of the ship.

As Arman got up from the floor, Kalden extended his hand to the younger man. “Be careful down there, Arman. They’ll be watching for any more intrusions. Don’t risk yourself needlessly.”

The bellmaker nodded calmly and after Nandi, Anil, and Tenzin made their farewells, the four adepts vanished from the chamber.

Kirian gazed at his friend for several minutes before stepping forward to grab him into a tight embrace. “Don’t die on me, Arman.”

“I’m not planning on it,” the big man soothed as he pulled back and laid a hand on Kirian’s shoulder. “I’ll stay away from the government buildings for a while, see what I can learn just by mixing in with people. Senga’s sigils should be enough to work with for the moment to keep tabs on Chao Rong and his cronies.”

“I’ll keep searching for some way to repair the portal,” Kirian declared with more confidence than he felt. “I’ll dig through the rubble of every old library on the surface if I have to.”

“That sounds like you. I’m sure you’ll turn up something useful. Keep my portal team in good shape while I’m gone.”

“I’ll help Skamár handle the team until Senga’s back on his feet. Let me know as soon as you’ve settled in somewhere so I know you’re alright.”

“I will, but you’d better not hover over me like a fretful old hen,” Arman teased with a wide grin. “I know what I’m doing. You’ve got plenty of other people to worry about here, Yeshe Vall.”

“Don’t remind me, Master Sijía,” Kirian glowered, placing his hands on his hips.

“Well, I’d better go see Niyal and make sure he’s set to take over the forge. I’ll take off in the morning.”

Kirian nodded but couldn’t bring himself to say anything further.

“Be well, my friend.” With a final tip of his head, the bellmaker disappeared.

The young yeshe blew out a breath and dropped his eyes to the floor. Arman was right—he had over four hundred other souls to take care of, each one fragile, each one precious. His personal needs would have to be put to the side if he was ever to get these people and Rinzen safely off of Lyonnae and find them a new home.

And at the moment, there was one other person whose safety depended on his immediate attention. After sending a brief adieu to Rinzen, Kirian shifted himself out to the wide set of chambers that served as the storage area for the colony’s supplies.

It was quiet, which meant only one thing—Minla was up on the surface making her rounds to the stashes hidden away outside of remote mountain villages. The nineteen other people on her team were scattered around the large chamber, sitting on boxes or chairs, all with their eyes closed, focused on their internal link with Minla up above.

Kirian walked over to the slender adept who served alongside Minla to direct the dedicated group that worked so hard to keep them all fed and clothed. He reached out and gently gripped her shoulder, making her start at the unexpected touch.

Nima’s wide silvery eyes flew open. “Kirian, what are you doing here?” she whispered. “Is anything wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied in a hushed voice, slipping up onto a crate beside her. “Have you noticed anything unusual tonight? Any tension or odd behavior from any of the villagers?”

“No, not at all. Why? Is Minla in danger?”

“She might be. We just pulled Senga back out of Edu. The Shitza have heard the stories about ‘magical bell people’ and I’m afraid they might start making moves out into the mountains looking for us. As long as she’s up there, Minla’s vulnerable.”

“We all watch over her like hawks,” Nima assured him. “We scan the area around the cache sites before she transports in and scope out the villagers who hide hoping to catch a glimpse of her.”

“No military or weapons?”

“None that we’ve detected so far.”

“That could change at any moment,” Kirian brooded, running a hand through his hair with obvious agitation. “Kalden’s setting up extra watches to monitor any troop movements away from their posts across the plateau.”

“Then we’ll expand the area around each site that we view remotely, Kirian. We’ll take care of her.”

“I know, Nima, but even if you don’t pick up any Shitza, she could still be shot down by any villager open to a bribe.”

The adept’s mouth fell open as she studied the yeshe’s eyes. “They love her, Kirian. It’s almost like they— Here, let me show you. Come into the link with me.”

Nima reached over and patted his hand, waiting patiently until he relaxed and nodded his assent.

Kirian closed his eyes and tuned into Nima’s mental touch as she rejoined the link with the entire group. The image of a craggy mountainside, aglow beneath the first stars of night, spread out in all directions from a vantage point just above a clump of scraggly trees at the edge of the snowbanks. He could feel the presence of all nineteen members of the team spaced out and hovering across the entire area, and below, sitting on a rock in front of a sizable pile of goods, surrounded by a gathering of tiny forms, was the woman he would give a thousand lives for.

Kirian’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of her and he shifted his view down closer to the ground so he could look up into Minla’s beautiful face. Dressed in a long white coat, her snowy head and form emitted a layer of light which gave her a soft luminance in the deepening evening. A group of children sat around her, most of them small, looking up at her with the wide, wondering eyes of the very young.

She laughed and spoke gently to them, but her words were too soft for Kirian to make out. In her lap was a wrapped bundle that the children watched with rapt anticipation and when she began to lay back the edges of the cloth, they huddled closer, clutching their hands together in eager excitement.

Slowly Minla lifted the first delicate bell and held it up in front of her. By the shape, Kirian could tell it was one of Arman’s creations, graceful and sleek, designed to emit a single crystalline note with a specific set of hidden overtones. When Minla shook her hand, the chiming sound floated out over the heads of the children to bounce and echo across the rock-strewn slope. Mesmerized, they watched and waited breathlessly until Minla chose one of them, extending her hand toward a small girl who held her tiny palms out in front of her to receive the precious gift.

They call her the ‘Lady of the Bells,’ Kirian, Nima explained gently through a private link. Is it any wonder they believe she’s magical?

She is, he breathed, finding himself just as entranced as the Ustagi children sitting at Minla’s feet.

The next treasure his wife held up was a pair of Niyal’s finely decorated discs joined by a cord. As she rang the pair of bells against each other, the sweet tone reverberated for several long moments, holding the little ones enthralled once again. When she handed them to a wiry boy near the back, he clutched them to his chest and looked quickly over his shoulder toward a group of boulders.

What the— A fresh wave of concern rolled through Kirian when he picked up the presence of several people huddled in the shadows behind the rocks.

It’s alright, Kirian. Move a little closer so you can see their faces.

At Nima’s urging, he shifted his focus to a point directly above the boulders. Crouched with an older female and a man, a young woman smiled radiantly at the boy in the circle who was undoubtedly her son. There were tears in her eyes when she glanced at her mate who wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

These people bring their children up here, hoping to be lucky enough to see her. They know she’ll sit and talk to them and hand out the bells. We could just leave them on the ground and take the food and goods they’ve left. But look at that small horde of supplied this one village alone has hauled up the slope for us.

Kirian glanced at the heaping mound of boxes, baskets, and wrapped parcels stacked on a flat expanse of stone behind Minla’s glowing figure.

The yeshes and Makhás masters watched over the Ustagi people for hundreds of years. They haven’t forgotten that, Kirian. They treasure our bells because they keep them healthy, drive away sickness. You know the frequencies Arman and Niyal build into them. And they’re prized even more if they come from her.

With the last of the bells doled out to waiting hands, the youngsters jumped up off the ground and swarmed in close to Minla, squealing and giggling as they hugged her legs, arms, or from behind, grabbing her anywhere their small hands could reach. She tipped her head back and laughed while the glow around her form pulsed with brightness.

Kirian shifted again to get closer to his wife, overcome with a sudden need to reach out and touch her himself. He watched in amazement as the children pulled back and chittered excitedly while Minla listened and nodded, answering them on occasion. One older girl reached her hands out shyly and offered some small object to Minla who took it before pulling the child close for a hug.

They bring her gifts all the time. Someone in another village made her that white coat she’s wearing.

I’ve never … seen any of those things, Kirian admitted hollowly.

No, I suppose you haven’t, the adept replied quietly. She keeps them all in a container at the back of the main storeroom. Ask her to show you sometime.

Kirian’s chest constricted at witnessing this glimpse into the private life of his beloved wife. She had never questioned his reticence to have a child of their own, never pressed her own needs, never shared this aspect of her interaction with the Ustagi, but it was painfully plain to see how deeply these children affected her.

Minla rose to her feet above her tiny admirers and raised a hand in farewell as they scampered off in all directions toward waiting family members scattered among the rocks. Several adults stood and waved their thanks to the lady in white, hoping to catch her eye before she turned back around toward the pile of goods.

Now do you understand, Yeshe Vall? These people love the Lady of the Bells and would never betray her—or us. They mourn for the lost Makhás. Minla is their last tie to something sacred.

Yes, I see that now. Thank you, Nima. I should have come with you a long time ago.

Minla raised her hands in the air before her voice came into the link with her hovering team. Alright everyone, time to go to work. Last batch.

The invisible web of a transport matrix formed in the air around Minla and the bulk of the cache. As the group of adepts gradually increased the sound through the internal link, the goods and Minla’s form slowly dissolved from sight off of the dark mountainside.

Kirian opened his eyes and jumped off the crate as Minla and the stacks of boxes appeared in the cavern in an empty space by the far wall. She lowered her arms and turned in surprise when she heard the rush of his footsteps behind her.

“Kirian? What are—”

With trembling hands, he grabbed both of her shoulders and pulled her close, kissing her fiercely in an uncharacteristic display in front of the entire team of astonished adepts. When he released her mouth, he held onto her shoulders and looked down at her, unable to speak, his entire length shaking with need. Minla blinked in bewilderment before her black-ringed silver eyes dilated in response.

“We’ll take care of this stuff, Minla,” Nima’s voice called out. “Go!”

With a quick mental check, Kirian knew exactly where he wanted to be. Thrusting through a transport matrix, he shifted the two of them to a desolate spot near the base of a snow-covered mountain peak. The steam from burbling water rose in the air beside them, lifting a faint waft of sulfur into the crisp stillness.

Minla smiled when she recognized where they were and slithered her hands beneath his robes, running her palms slowly up his soft ribcage and chest. “What’s gotten into you, big man?” she asked with a languid expression.

“You.”

Gingerly sliding the long white coat off her shoulders and divesting her of the rest of her garments, Kirian slipped out of his own, piling them carefully on a dry ledge before stepping down into the hot water, taking Minla’s hand to guide her into the deep pool. When the water reached his shoulders, he scooped her into his arms and sank down into the soothing heat, spinning gently, their long white hair floating in wisps near the surface of the pool.

“You take my breath away,” he murmured, reveling in the feel of her body tucked in close against him. He sent his eyes all over her face, rediscovering each nuance, each graceful curve with a renewed sense of wonder. “The Ustagi think you’re a goddess.”

“Ah, you saw that,” she said with a wistful laugh. “I admit, I add the glow just for a little bit of fun—and to see what I’m doing. Nothing mystical. We all learned how to make light balls when we were kids.”

“Don’t minimize who you are,” he admonished with a light kiss. “Those people see more than glowing lights, much more.” She smiled quietly and he searched her eyes, looking for the hidden parts of her that he had so artlessly missed. “Tell me what you want, Minla.”

Her delicate brows rose at his unexpected question. “I want our people to be safe and happy.”

“No—tell me what you want.”

As she gazed at him, her soft smile faded and a flicker of melancholy touched her eyes. “I want you, Kirian. I want … a family.” She blinked once and tipped her head back into the steaming water, looking up at the wide expanse of stars overhead. “And I want to leave the caverns and live in the light of a star—it doesn’t have to be Sirius. Any other radiant star will do. Pick one, my love.”

Kirian’s heart caught in his throat. He waited until she lifted her face and captured her mouth in a desperate rush, pressing his hand into the small of her back to pull her tightly against him. When he felt her body open and ignite, he broke his mouth away.

“Glow for me, Lady of the Bells.”

As Kirian made love to his wife, the resolve his chest blazed into a white-hot torch. If he did nothing else before he stopped breathing, he would find a way for this beautiful creature to live in starlight once more.