How could I be, when we’re stuck in the jungle because of my ineptitude? By my lack of knowledge of Suevan geography, by the fact I was spoiled and cosseted and allowed leniency where our Warlords were not?

My chest heaves, and I stare at the patch of sky visible overhead, the Crigomars still roaring occasionally in the distance.

“I do not want you to look at me like that. Like he does. Like I am a weak leader. A failure. For the first time, I want to truly prove to myself who I am.” For you, I think, but the word sticks in my craw despite our translation issues. I cannot allow the separatists to continue their nonsensical missions against us. Not when the price of their success could be Gen.

My tail lashes angrily under the water, sending a wave slapping against the temple stones. As good as it feels to unload my burden, the deepest secret of my heart, to this woman, it’s painful, as though the words have been torn from me.

And she doesn’t even understand them. I am not sure if I am grateful for that fact... or frustrated. I do not want my Gen to know what a failure I am. How Sueva is split because of my inability to unite our dying people.

I would hate to see the derision return to face.

I have only just won her smiles.

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER FIVE

OceanofPDF.com

GEN

It feels so fucking good to get clean. The green mucous-like crap that I picked up in the swamp sloughs off in disgusting sheets. It reminds me a little of a cheap face mask I bought once, except it smells anything but spa-like.

It feels equally as good to trauma dump on poor, hot, unsuspecting Kanuz. I know he can understand me, so I should feel vulnerable about throwing some of my deepest feelings at him, but I don’t.

He didn’t run away at my stream of consciousness either, like any of the dudes I dated on Earth might have.

No, instead, he said something back, in that strangely soothing alien language of his. Kanuz’s diamond-shaped pupils expanded like he listened intently while I talked, and then he said something back, his face wrinkling in what looked like frustration. Now he stands in the water next to me, his giant frame easily touching the bottom, while I float and scrub at the nastiness stuck all over me.

This ruin has a weird vibe. It’s not something I would ever say to any of the crew, because God knows they’d laugh at me saying something had a vibe, but it’s true. The green swamp, the giant snake, the running water paired with the overgrown and crumbling interior… It’s bizarre as hell and completely alien.

Unsettling. A shiver trickles down my spine.

That’s the word for it. It is deeply unsettling, this place.

Kanuz seems unaffected by it, though. In fact, while I scrub at my skin and hum under my breath to break up the sound of the frustrated dinosaurs still bugling randomly outside and soak in the bizarre, otherworldly atmosphere, Kanuz just watches me with those strange, compelling eyes.

“Do your people mind the wet at all?” I’ve barely asked about him this whole time, preferring to stew over how sideways everything went and my fear for the rest of the crew.

He shakes his head, muttering something and pointing to the sky.

“Rains a little much here for that, huh?”

He nods, grinning at me with those too-sharp teeth. His smile sends a ripple of renewed interest through me.

That’s unsettling, too.

I sigh, closing my eyes and floating, relaxed for the first time since we landed on this planet. I’m hungry, I’m tired, but I’m safe for the minute and I’m relatively clean.

And I am not going to psychoanalyze my growing attraction to the big, scaly alien. Nope. Not gonna do it.

I’m going to ignore it until the last possible minute.

“So, do you think I’ll ever get back to Earth?” It’s the first time I’ve put words to that particular worry.

Kanuz says nothing. Instead, a snarl rips out of him, and the next minute, water sloshes up the sides of my face as he storms from the pool.

Surprised, I flip right-side up, treading the lukewarm water and staring after Kanuz, whose tail thrashes behind him as he paces beside the pool, muttering to himself and stealing glances at me.

“What crawled up your butt?” I ask, annoyed at his quick change in behavior. “I thought we were finally getting along.”

He raises a fist, pointing up at the… ceiling? The sky?

Unclear.

“I’m fucking sick of charades,” I say, swimming for the edge of the pool. “You’re mad at the rain?”

He grunts, kicking at a rock on the ground.

“That’s a no. Okay, okay, lemme guess, three words, first word pissed, second word off, third word, alien.” I laugh at my stupid joke, though it’s not funny at all. Niki always says that humor is my crutch to avoid real feelings, and she’s not wrong.

Doesn’t mean I’m gonna change. Why mess with a good thing?

Kanuz points at me, the gesture so aggressive I flinch back, which only causes him to growl. He walks the length of the pool, then turns and walks back.

My translator spits out pure nonsense, as usual. “How can she not know? We are to live as one, and she does not know? How can it be that she desires to return to her village home life?”

I shake my head, my stomach sinking. Most of that actually made sense.

Which is very concerning. Extremely concerning.

What the hell is it that I don’t know that’s upsetting him so badly?

I dunk my slime-covered pants in the water. Why tackle an upset alien head-on when I can take care of the more immediate problem of wearing disgusting clothes? Absolutely no reason at all!

Still, it’s troubling. He’s clearly aggravated, and I know it has something to do with what I said about returning home.

It doesn’t bode well.

I wash and wring out the clothes as best I can, the thick mud and slime sucked down into whatever drain must be in the bottom of the pool, leaving the rest pristine.

“Why is this place here? How in the world does this still function?” It’s a marvel, and I stand up, my sodden clothes in hand. Water streams from my clothes as I wring them out, finally tugging them on, not quite brave enough to hang out in this freaky place in my underwear.

Boots are a good idea, and I go sockless, knowing all too well how much wet socks can fuck your world up. Trench foot would be a decidedly hellish development.

Kanuz is still fretting over whatever it is I don’t know, but I studiously ignore him.

There’s plenty I don’t know. A metric fuckton, in fact. Especially about this planet, which has been shrouded in secrecy thanks to their sacred language and their interplanetary defense tech. My crew basically came in blind.

And look how great that turned out!

At this point, I’m not sure I want to know what missing information has him so upset.

Instead, I run a hand over the rough stone wall. It’s smooth in some places, with swooping divots and dips. There’s a thin layer of dust and dirt over everything, and when I clap my hands together, it clouds the air in front of me.

Coughing, my eyebrows raise as I study the wall.

It’s not rough, not at all.

It’s carved.

Every inch of it, thick with inscriptions in what I can only assume is the Suevan language. There are images, too, and a sense of wonder fills me as I drink it in. They’re vaguely reminiscent of hieroglyphics—or maybe cuneiform—I studied what seems like a lifetime ago, but more pictorial than either of those systems.

I run my finger in the beveled edge of one, tracing the curve of a sinuous shape.

“What is this place?” Fear threads through my voice, because the longer I look at the wall, the longer the shapes start to mean something, which is… impossible. It should be impossible.