The Mad Lieutenant (The Lost Planet 3) - Page 40

“What’s a wifflebird?” I ask. One thing I love about living on Mortuus is discovering something new each day. There are always surprises. Sometimes they result in challenges, but with my new family at my side it feels like there isn’t anything we can’t conquer together.

He scratches his jaw as he thinks. “If a bird and a…leezard?”

“Lizard?” I ask with a smile.

I’ve been telling him about the different animals on our planet, specifically the ones I’ve encountered, trying to find similar animals on Mortuus. Kind of like the rogcow is similar to our cows. Just one-eyed and a little creepy. And they…

“Ronnnnk!” Eileen blinks her one eye at Hadrian as though he’s annoying her.

“Yes,” Oz says with a grin. “If one of your birds mated with a lizard and then was stretched to six feet tall, you’d have the general idea. They flock to the south plain during the warm season, when the geostorms are less violent.” He cups a hand around his mouth and shouts, “THEY’RE ALSO THE UGLIEST THING ON MORTUUS!” To me he says, “Not to mention they’re not that intelligent. Theron calls them fool birds.”

Hadrian, who turns at Oz’s shout, merely grins, retrieves his rope, and chases Eileen down for another go. If he’s not careful, she’ll trample him like she trampled Lox.

It’s nice being outside, free of our gear and masks.

Of course, it’s pretend outside, but it certainly has the farm feel that makes my heart fuzzy. When Oz built a vacuu-room pen that was virtually all windows and plenty big for Eileen to roam about freely, also equipped with a fan, so she won’t get hot, I’d been more than impressed. I swear, these morts are frickin’ geniuses.

Hadrian, Oz, and I bonded over building the temporary pen attached to the east side of the facility in the weeks since Draven and I returned. Galen and Theron would’ve also helped, but they’d gone on an expedition to collect a male rogcow and possibly another female, in addition to gathering more data about the conditions in the cavern we’d discovered. Draven had gone with them after many protests. He hadn’t wanted to leave me, not when our own life was growing so rapidly.

As I watch Hadrian and Oz argue, I press a hand to my stomach. Avrell says the baby is growing on schedule. That we’re both as healthy as can be, but I still worry. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night in the throes of nightmares about our baby being taken like Willow had.

I laugh at myself, pushing the thought from my mind. Not only would the would-be kidnappers have him to reckon with, but all the other morts and their mates too.

My family, all of them, would never let anything happen to us.

“Hadrian, come back.” Oz’s voice draws me back to reality.

“What is it?” I ask.

“They’re back,” he says, nodding to the kick of dust. Then I hear the roar of the terrainster.

***

I never thought I’d be the type of woman who relied on anyone else. For as long as I’ve been alive, I’ve taken care of myself knowing there was no other way. When Willow was born, I did what I had to do to take care of her, too. I prided myself on my self-reliance.

As I dart through the facility to the decontamination bay, I realize relying on someone else isn’t a weakness. Trusting and believing in someone you love makes you stronger together than you are alone.

With Draven, I am stronger.

The doors to the decontamination bay slide open, and he walks through, his minnasuit caked with dust and grime, his helmet dangling from his hand. He’s talking with Theron, who practically swaggers through the door, grinning. At the sound of my footsteps slapping against the floor, he looks up.

My heart stumbles in my chest, and maybe I imagine it, but I swear I can feel the baby move. It’s probably too early, but a smile splits my face at the thought. When I get close enough, I launch myself into his arms, knocking him back a step.

The scent of antiseptic and something akin to leather fills my nose, but underneath is the spicy reassuring note of Draven. It suffuses my senses and my muscles relax. Home, I think. With him, I’m home.

“Why don’t I get a greeting like that?” Theron complains.

“Don’t worry, Theron. When you find your mate, you’ll get that and more,” Breccan says as he comes to a stop by our side, Aria close beside him as always. Little Sokko is asleep in a sling Oz fashioned for him that Aria wears strapped to her chest. He’s a funny looking little thing now that I can look at him without my heart threatening to burst from my chest. Funny looking, but I’ve grown to love him anyway.

Tags: K. Webster The Lost Planet Fantasy
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