“So neither you nor Sagan obtained any special abilities?” Tumu asked for the hundredth time since his return from Enki. “Not even super speed or extreme bladder control? Something?”
It made Tameka squirm because once again she was lying to him. Without Xelan here, she felt so unsure about how the Shadow left things with the Tritans in their Dyson’s Sphere. She recalled Xelan saying Merit possessed no abilities. Celindria confirmed it. They considered her line neutral, so she wanted to leave it that way for now until she understood Tumu’s role better.
As far as Sagan’s abilities, no one in The Afflicted One’s—T.A.O. for short—line demonstrated her gifts throughout the millennia. No need to expose her girl. She shook her head and faked bewilderment. “Nope. Maybe too soon? Or the stress?”
The sheenless voids in the Tritan’s face examined her. One might say they even pressed her. Do. Not. Squirm. After a few heartbeats, he shrugged. “Sure. Stress.” His gaze lingered another moment before he strolled toward the tree line.
Tameka followed, happy for the fresh air and sunshine. Only a week trapped on Cinder, and she couldn’t imagine living without the blue skies of Earth. True, Nox’s sphere filtered them through amber glass, but they were better than a bloated sun.
Once again, all the questions she wanted to ask Xelan struck her. What was it like growing up with that red star assailing their sky? How did he cope? What was it like visiting Earth for the first time? She imagined when he first saw the stars, that he wept. He was passionate like that. Elden, she missed him. Ignoring the foreign pressure in her lower abdomen, she brushed a tear from her lashes.
“Tameka.”
She stopped when he did and gazed the considerable distance up at him. Out here, the sunlight captured the translucency of Tumu’s skin, illuminating the black blood vessels beneath.
“I’m very sorry about Xelan.”
Too much. It was too much. Tameka glanced away and squeezed her eyes shut. Her fists clenched tight as she fought back the torrent of sorrow. Endless, it seemed, since they returned. She welcomed all the warm, well-meaning faces. The people she loved mourned with her, but it left her raw all the time. Pehton was right. They couldn’t afford this grief. “Is there a way—”
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Silence. Not uncomfortable. Just patient.
Tameka looked back at him. Her vision blurred with her tears. “In Enki. Is there a way to bring him back?”
A hot hand rested on her bare shoulder. She only detected the lines of his face after she received her nacre. Without them, Tritans looked expressionless to her unless they wanted her to see. At that moment, his features drew tight in a solemn frown. “I wish there were. I can’t think of anyone more qualified for a chance at life again.”
Of course there wasn’t, but there’s no harm in asking. She nodded her understanding because quite frankly she ran out of the energy for words. After a shaky breath, she took up walking again. Forward. Keep moving forward.
“Peaches?” Tumu’s endearing nickname for her left his mouth on a note of uncertainty.
The last time he tried to use it, she’d just learned the Tritans plotted a conspiracy around Rayne’s nacre. She was very unhappy with him. However, given the nature of this particular conversation, his use of the name comforted her. It reminded her of their often entertaining conversations regarding Xelan’s past. She continued walking into the trees. “Yes, Tumu?”
“Do you feel it, yet?”
Tameka stopped cold. Every muscle in her body went rigid. The question might refer to one of many changes which occurred in the last three weeks. Some of which she hid from him. But as the pressure below her stomach flared again, she suspected what he meant. She swallowed hard recalling Celindria’s words on Cinder, “Is the baby making you sick?”
A fine tremor took hold of Tameka’s hands. Stiff, she turned and faced Tumu. “Are you—Is it—How—” With her brain misfiring, her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the leafy forest floor.
Not as fast as an Icarus, he reached her after the fall but before her head went down. He propped her up in his arms. “Yup. This’ll be a doozy. Should have known when I detected it in your scent.” His face appeared over hers silhouetted against the clear mountain sky. “We’ll get you through this together. I won’t let anything happen to you. I have no idea how long it will take—a child between an Icarus and a Progeny—but I have some good news.”
Practicing meditative breathing to remain calm, Tameka took a deep inhale through her nose and let it out through her mouth. Her heart pounded at her sternum for release while her pulse fluttered at her wrists and elbows. Breathy, she confessed, “I could… really… use some.”
“When it’s all over, Peaches, you’ll have a healthy baby boy.”
For the first time since she lost Xelan, Tameka lit up inside and broke into a radiant smile.