“Not safe,” I say. “But…we can waaalk. Leettl bit.”
“Okay.” He stands, and I watch with careful eyes, looking for any sign of discomfort. But the Dante I feared was dying in my arms is gone. He is strong again. Bright again.
He turns and offers me a hand, not doing much to assist me, but I can tell the illusion makes him feel good. I will always ensure he feels this way. He must always know that, although he is weak, fragile, and short-lived, he will be the only thing that keeps me upright.
“Don’t say it like that,” Dante says. He must have been able to hear those thoughts. They were powerful. He swallows heavily and steps off the xinhar onto stone and puts his hands at my hips. “Will you really outlive me?”
I bow my head. I cannot answer that. I believe if he is truly VySytheh, when he expires, so shall I. His life will shorten mine. When he is no longer with me, there will be nothing worth living for, so it is not something for me to grieve.
I attempt to send that through my thoughts in a way he can understand.
He sucks in a breath, and I feel him protesting against the thought of me dying, but I pull him tight against me and kiss him until his mind is full of soft want.
“You can’t keep doing that just to distract me,” he says.
“Can,” I say back.
He looks startled, then rolls his eyes and shoves at me. Of course, I do not move, but when he takes my hand and pulls me toward the entrance to the cave, I allow him to lead the way.
It is still moon time, and with only three moons out, the forest is darker than usual. Dante seems to have no trouble finding a path, and we walk carefully through the trees before he comes to a stop, a gasp stuttering in the back of his throat.
It takes me a moment, but then I see a Seymosi ahead on the path. It is a young one—perhaps not six third moon cycles past its hatch. It observes us, then licks its claws.
“What is that?” he whispers. “I remember seeing them earlier.”
I offer him the name, then add, “Harmmlsss.”
“Really?” He does not believe me.
It can, of course, harm. But only when it’s young is threatened, and that will not happen for one of its age. It has at least twenty more third moon cycles before it can breed.
Stepping ahead of him, I reach into the brush and pull out a few pieces of ripe fruit from the fyran bush and click my tongue. The Seymosi stares at me for a long moment, then stretches its back and ambles over.
Dante is stiff beside me, but he does not run. My human is so very brave. He clings as I hold out my hand, and the Seymosi’s long tongue darts out, collecting the fruit before it steps closer.
It rumbles deep in its chest, then knocks its head into my hand. Dante lets out a laugh before slapping a hand over his mouth, but the Seymosi is not startled by the sound of a human voice.
I hum to it as it continues to take affection, and then I nod for Dante to do the same. His fingers tremble as he extends them. The Seymosi stares, uncertain of the pink, clawless flesh. But after a moment, it knocks its snout into Dante’s hand, and he scratches his blunt nails along the feathers.
“It looks like a dragon,” he whispers.
I do not know this word, but an image appears in my head from Dante. The thing he shows me is a large beast with scales and leathery wings. It breathes fire and kills many humans.
“No,” I insist.
“No, it’s…” Dante pulls his hand back as the Seymosi backs up and disappears into the brush. He swipes his hands on his pants as he stands. “Dragons are mythical. I think they were based on dinosaurs, and…” He trails off, studying my face. “We’ll look them up on your phone when we get home.”
Home.
For the first time, the word home evokes images of Dante’s apartment. Of his small couch and comfortable bed. Of the kitchen and my latte machine, and my own special room where Niaus waits for me.
Home is not really Erethar anymore. I will never give this place up, but I don’t know that it will ever be mine again. Not the same way as it once was.
The thought brings grief, but not the overwhelming amount I felt when I was first sent to the human world. I have comfort now.
Safety.
Family.
