PEARL

My heartbeat thumped like a drum in my chest.

François followed Shadrach. I could understand why she didn't want to be my referee anymore. It was high time for me to own up to what I had done and face the music. With my head between my knees, I counted down the minutes, inhaling the crisp subterranean air.

Hopefully, it won't be that bad. Right?

I hugged my legs. The wind must have picked up outside—all I could hear was my breath, my heartbeat, and the tinkling of icicles stirring in the breeze. I tried to remain calm, but it was hard.

The council was coming, not only that, but the Elders. Regardless of my bravery when I charged at things head-on, I was petrified. And this wasn't even bravery. This was stupidity.

I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard somebody enter the cave. I didn't even have to look to see who it was—I knew who it was. Even though I was trying to have courage, to think clearly, and to own up to my stuff, I was still a coward.

A coward because I couldn't look at him.

But oh, how his lovely smell surrounded me, making me feel safe, as if a part of me had been missing. My fingers twitched to reach for him, but I kept them still.

"Pearl?"

His voice resonated through the cave, crawling under my skin like ants. Or maybe that was just my apprehension. His tone wasn't angry. It wasn't anything, actually. When I didn't respond, I felt him approach, his aura nipping at the back of my neck, leaving gooseflesh.

Shit, how I wanted to turn around, throw my arms around him, and kiss him. Squeeze myself to him. Promise to never make him worry again.

"It is time to go. It is over."

I stiffened.

I kept my eyes on the floor as I stood, shoulders hunched. Tears slid down my cheeks as I hung my head. I didn't even know where to start. I missed him so much. My heart felt like it was going to splinter into pieces being this close to him without touching.

I ran away from him. Ran away from him and threw myself on a doomed planet in protest of his council, and for what?

Nothing.

His voice was heavy with concern. "Are you harmed?"

"No, I'm fine, Dumuzi. I don't even know what to say, or how to say it. Just know that I am so so–"

"Sorrys mean little in the face of death and politics. For the rest of the evening, it would be best if you were not to speak. Your world may depend on it. Your freedom may depend on it as well."

Freedom?

I recoiled as if he had slapped me. The tone of which he spoke was ice-cold, straight-to-the-chase, and hollow. He had never talked to me like that before; as if I were an insubordinate child, not his soulmate.

Frowning, I puffed out my lips and took in a ragged breath. "I understand I messed up. But why are you being so—?"

"Leave your things here. The council awaits. I will be behind you."

I met his eyes and my breath stalled in my throat. I expected him to be angry, not... this.

This was worse.

This was way fucking worse.

His eyes were two dark chips of amethyst. His face? Distanced and cold. I had never seen him like this. I wanted to run away from him–run away from my problems, away from his rejection, just like all the other times when I couldn't face something impossible.

But you can't just run away from this, Pearl.

His clothing was dark grey, matching the snow that gathered around the cave lip. The orb he held in his hand highlighted his beautiful, sharp features. But the circles under his eyes were stark.

My fault.

Where was my attitude? I usually counted on it to come to my defense. I could argue like a lawyer and weasel my way out of most situations like a damned politician. Yet my mouth remained closed, exhaustion sinking into my bones.

I scanned the darkness behind him. There were other Enukis here swathed in shadows. I could barely make them out, even if I squinted.

He waited, motionless, hard eyes expectant.

With a huff, I moved.

My face burned as I followed tall silhouettes, swallowing back hurt. With the light Dumuzi held in his hand, it was easier to see the earth under my feet. Up ahead, the opening of the cave gave way to grey light. I could feel him behind me, his scent making my heart do an uneven thump, but he said nothing.

Truth be told, I wasn't expecting him to say anything anyway.

It must have been evening by the look of the orange clouds. The wind was suddenly calm. The Enukis that were in front of me dispersed into a white clearing up ahead. As I followed, the snow became ankle-deep, crunching with each footfall.

I focused on my steps, trying not to trip. My new bracelet hummed as it worked to monitor and change the surrounding temperature.

Only tiny, needle-point snowflakes fell from the sky, melting when they got too close to my invisible bubble of protection. Somewhere in my journey, I finally tripped, falling to one knee.

With the way Dumuzi was regarding me, I didn't expect him to help. Warm, large hands gripped my sides, lifting me upright. I wanted to cry when I felt his body against mine, to tell him I loved him.

But a sweet reunion was long gone, it seemed, because I had stepped into massive shit. Enough for the both of us, because I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves.

"You must go to them yourself. You must exhibit strength as a representative of your species. I cannot carry you," he whispered to me. It was so quiet that nobody else could probably hear it but me. "Be brave. Summon your inner strength and stand tall like the monolith of courage I know that you are."

My heart did an uneven thump, the unexpected praise flooding my veins with warmth. I nodded again. But just as his reassurance came, his voice was back to being stone cold and void of any emotion. "Keep your eyes low. Do not make eye contact with the Elders unless asked. Do you understand?"

My voice was clogged with tears. "I do."

He dropped his hands and said nothing, waiting for me to move. His touch was indifferent, not gentle or loving like it always had been, but there had been something in his... tone.

Urgency. Stress.

Regret.

My knees wanted to give out when I saw a semicircle of Enukis up ahead. This is it.

I stilled my trembling hands and lifted my chin.

I recognized Shadrach on the far right side and Ogrik standing beside him. I counted ten, not eleven like they should have been. Maybe one was missing? François was nowhere to be found.

Where is she?

Something caught my eye. I craned my neck to look up. In the distance, a gigantic, towering aircraft hovered over a white hill. If I wasn't so shaken and miserable, my jaw would have hit the ground.

It looked to be made of rock the color of rusted iron, with two outstretched wings on either side, but not covered in feathers. Veins of shining metal wrapped around the wings like a cage.

The bottom of the ship resembled a curling scorpion tail. The top was flat with a balcony. Blue light pulsed through it like a heartbeat, throwing electric blue light across the snow. My eyelashes fluttered.

What looked like curving, deadly knives adored the outer edges, having to be the size of a school bus each. Around the spacecraft, small, bulbous spheres of metal orbited and blinked light.

I remember those things.

I had seen one of those orbs before, long ago, back at the ranch I was investigating.

My breath sawed out of my lungs.

The craft and its orbiters made no noise. The only sound that could be heard were our footsteps and the gentle wind.

I did not know who the other Enukis were. The three in the center wore white and silver, gleaming in the low sun. I caught a flash of long beards, motionless faces, and inclined heads before I dropped my eyes to the snow. Elders.

My heartbeat took off, dread trickling into my veins like poison.

In a few brief moments, we stood before them. Dumuzi moved to stand in front of me to the side, and for a moment, I was grateful. I wasn't doing this alone.

I stared at my feet. My dream for protesting the fate of Earth composed of me walking in with my chin held high, with Francois by my side. Not this.

From my peripheral, I saw the center Enuki–one of the Elders–move forward with ethereal grace, but I was careful not to look up. I focused on the bottom of his rustling, glittering robe.

A conversation began between Dumuzi and the Elder. Their tones were alien, brash, and multifaceted. My teeth ground together. What are they saying?

I heard somebody sigh. I lifted my eyes, finding Ogrik. He frowned as he watched Dumuzi speak. Shadrach, by his side, was dead-faced and motionless.

Then it became silent.

Dumuzi inclined his head my way and turned, his eyes just as void of emotion as ever. "Pearl. Come here."

I jolted, snapping out of it. Swallowing, I took a few quick steps to stand beside him. I fought the urge to latch onto his arm and cling to it.

"We speak in human tongue. English," he said coolly. "So that Pearl can understand this situation and the decisions that are to be made. Qhin?"

The silence continued as I bowed under the weight of alien stares. A part of me wished that the earth would open a cavern beneath our feet and swallow me whole.

"Yes," a voice responded. It took me a moment to realize that it was the center Elder, Qhin, who spoke. His voice was breathy and deep, showing his age. "Given that your mate made us come quite a long way for her to be heard, it is only prudent that she stands before us now."

From the corner of my eye, Dumuzi nodded once.

Qhin's voice was aimed at me. "You requested to be heard, human, so here we are. Would you mind looking at me? Perhaps I want to see the eyes that entrap my grandson so viciously. Let me see the soul behind them."

My stomach nearly lurched out of my throat. My knees shook, but I was determined to obey.

A pair of purple eyes, similar to Dumuzi's, but lighter, stared at me. His face was aged, folded with wrinkles. While he was graceful and ancient, he still towered over me. His beard was full and long, wiry with long strands.

His hair was silver and flowed over his broad shoulders. He supported himself with a cane, ivory white with vines of pewter wrapped around it like a snake.

He was much like a god standing before me, and I, much like the insignificant human they probably pictured.

"Ah." His face did not move, only his lips. "There you are. Quite a bit of trouble you have made, haven't you? Tell me, human, what irks you so?"

"I–" I swallowed. "I don't think you should have the say on whether or not to end us."

"And you do?"

I pressed my lips into a tight line, trying hard to choose my words carefully. "No. I don't. But–"

"The problem lies therein. You are human. You are our creation. It is remarkable that, given your nature to inquire, you have never asked about the reason your world perished due to missiles your kind turned on themselves."

His eyes narrowed and I swallowed. He was right. I had never asked why the nuclear missiles went off, but I had always assumed it was because of how bad humanity had become.

But that didn't matter.

People could change and evolve.

I lifted my chin again, squinting at the low-sitting sun on the horizon. "It doesn't matter," I finally said, sure.

"Doesn't matter, she says." He tapped his ringed finger against his cane. Tap, tap, tap. "We offered our technologies to your kind to end diseases, famines, and the global environmental crisis. Your politicians and scientists denied us, wanting to keep the masses under their control. Our ancient crafts that had crashed over thousands of years were excavated, and their mechanics were reverse-engineered for warfare."

"A horrendous misuse," Dumuzi suddenly cut in. My head snapped over to him. His eyes were dark. "Bastardizing our creations for the sake of oil, territorial expansion, and bloodshed. Our ultimatum was unambiguous: either disclose your avarice and negligence for life to your own people, or we will disclose it to them ourselves. The missiles were their answer. They would rather have everyone die than acknowledge their faults."

My pulse roared in my ears. Holy shit. We really denied them like that? And our answer was to kill ourselves?

Now I understood.

Now I finally, finally understood. But to me, this changed little, because when I looked at somebody like François, I knew they were wrong. Not all of us were bad.

I shook my head. "I did not know that."

"Of course, you didn't, child." Qhin's eyes thankfully moved to his grandson. "Ignorance is no excuse here. With all of that said, I can see the fire within those brown depths, Dumuzi. Costly and inconvenient, but intriguing nonetheless. Their kind are nothing but violent and greedy. What is in store for us now that our fates have intertwined?"

"This will be dealt with regardless," Dumuzi responded. "She will not lie to me again."

Dealt with?

I sucked in a sharp breath.

Qhin smiled. It was unsettling. "Your mate fights hard for what she wants and thinks little of anything else."

"I am aware."

"And yet, it will not be me, nor our brothers, that will decry the fate of Earth today. It is not unknown to you I am ailing with age. Time would be gracious if I were to be blessed with another decade. Surely, since you are to succeed me, that choice would be left to none other than you. Do we continue our mission to destroy Earth?"

I stared at Dumuzi, chest filled with hope, because he, like me, didn't want Earth to be destroyed. Even though he spoke about us using their technologies with hate. I would take whatever punishment Dumuzi saw fit; that didn't matter. Please, I tried to tell him mentally.

My stomach clenched like a fist as he ignored me.

He wouldn't say yes, would he?

He couldn't be that cruel, could he?

Qhin held up a hand. "Before you give us an answer, I must know one last thing. I am sure everybody is wishing to know. Does her womb carry your child?"

His words poured over me like a bucket of icy water, and I almost fell into the snow.

Dumuzi's jaw locked, turning his head to the side. "No."

No.

My ears rang and I stifled a sob.

It didn't?

Disappointment hit me hard, like a speeding train. I wasn't sure why I was disappointed–I had accepted that outcome the moment I chose him. We were two different species. Truth be told, I had fought against Shadrach the moment he hinted at the possibility.

Because there wasn't a possibility.

Yet having it said out loud was crushing.