They took the sleigh to Port Eyeja that afternoon—all three of them, because Tess needed supplies and she needed to prove to herself that she could keep making this journey without falling apart.
The trip was easier than before. The cold still bit at her cheeks, and the vast white emptiness of the mountains still made her feel small and exposed, but the panic that had gripped her on her previous visit stayed at bay. She sat pressed against Njkall’s side, one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, and let herself watch the world slide past.
Tess sat across from them, stiff and silent, her hands clenched in her lap. She spent most of the journey staring out at the snow with an expression that made Polly’s heart ache.She’s leaving,she reminded herself. She’s finally getting what she wanted. But the rigid set of Tess’s shoulders told a different story.
Port Eyeja materialized out of the grey, its stone buildings and snow-covered roofs already becoming familiar, along with the braziers along the main streets, the clusters of traders near the landing field, and the warm glow of Baralt and Izzie’s home.
The market was packed with people, their varied shapes and colors a kaleidoscope of alien species that would have sent her running a year ago. Now she wove through them with something like ease, keeping close to Njkall, her hand tucked into his.
“Warm-weather clothes first,” she said to Tess. “Izzie says there’s a trader near the east end who deals in offworld fabrics. Some of it’s actually comfortable.”
Tess nodded, though her eyes were darting everywhere—tracking every movement, cataloguing every potential threat. Polly recognized the behavior. She’d done the same thing, once.
They spent an hour in the clothing stalls, sorting through fabrics and arguing about colors. Tess gravitated towards dark, practical things—loose tunics, sturdy trousers, everything designed to make her invisible. Polly gently nudged her towards something softer.
“You’re going somewhere warm,” she said. “You might as well not sweat to death.”
“I don’t want to stand out.”
“You’re human. On an ocean planet full of non-humans. You’re going to stand out no matter what you wear.” She held up a tunic in soft blue. “At least stand out in something pretty.”
Tess made a face, but she took the tunic.
They were on their way to the next stall when it happened.
Tess suddenly went rigid beside her, and Polly heard the sudden sharp intake of breath and felt the way every muscle in her friend’s body locked tight. At first she thought the other woman had spotted another ship marking. They’d spent so many hours poring over manifests and identification records that she had started seeing registration symbols everywhere herself.
Then she saw Tess’s face.
It wasn’t recognition. It was terror.
She turned, following Tess’s gaze, and saw nothing. Just the usual crowd of traders and visitors. Two Hothian males haggling over preserved meat. A Tajiri female examining jewelry. A cluster of species she didn’t recognize gathered near a food stall.
“Tess?” She kept her voice low. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” Tess’s face had gone paper-white. “It’s nothing. I just… I thought I saw—” She shook her head in a jerky, unnatural motion. “Can we go? Please?”
Njkall materialized at Polly’s side, his massive frame blocking them from view. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” She was already guiding Tess towards the quieter side streets. “Tess, talk to me. What did you see?”
“Nothing.” Tess’s voice had gone flat and strange. “I told you. It was nothing. I’m just tired. I want to go back.”
She wouldn’t say anything else. Not during the long walk to retrieve the sleigh, not during the silent journey back through the mountains, not when they finally reached the caves and she fled to the healer’s cave without a backward glance.
“She saw something,” Polly said quietly, watching her go.
Njkall’s hand rested warm on her shoulder. “She did.”
“Something from before. From the ship.”
“Most likely.”
“But she won’t talk about it.”
“No.”
She turned to look up at him. “Should we tell Baralt?”
