Varek stops and glances at me, his gaze assessing. I completely get it if he doesn’t te?—
“With the four of you, it brings us to 527.”
Parting my lips in surprise, I gasp, looking around once more.
“There are also several hatchlings due and eight births imminent.”
Fuck.
Shanae steps to Varek’s side. “This is what we’re trying to protect. Almost every single person is Riftborn, born outside of Terrafeara. Children, parents, grandparents. Some have lost loved ones to the queen. Everyone else is running for their lives, refusing to be used to empower the sovereign state. Used until they’re no longer of value.” Her words are impassioned, determined, her American accent thick and her deep brown eyes swimming with emotion.
“Shanae lost someone.”
Somehow I don’t startle at Solan’s voice in my head. I study Shanae, my gut hurting at the pain she reveals. And it’s not only that, but as a Black Southern woman, it’s likely she has some pretty fucking harrowing family history with enslavement, right?
“This is why it’s not enough to just hide. We have to make things change.”
I open my mouth, but no words come. I don’t know what to say. What can I possibly offer in the face of what she’s experienced? I’ve never faced this kind of loss, this kind of fight. Okay, I’ve been ripped from Earth, but I’m not ready to truly deal with that just yet. And sure, I’ve seen tragedy. I’ve pulled people from burning buildings, watched as homes crumbled to ash. But this? This is something else entirely.
Shanae’s gaze shifts to me, and it’s not accusatory—it’s just steady, waiting.
I glance at Solan, my thoughts brushing against his like reaching for a hand in the dark.“I have no idea how to respond to this. I’ve never been in her shoes. Not even close.”
“You don’t need to have been,”he replies, his mental voice calm and reassuring. “You listen. You acknowledge. That’s enough for now.”
I nod slightly, his words a perfect cool breeze on a hot Queensland day. Shanae doesn’t press, instead turning back to Varek to ask something about supplies. Jamie, however, is watching her like she’s just lit up a classroom.
“What did you do back on Earth, Shanae?” he asks, his voice carrying that innocent curiosity that only kids can pull off. “Before you came here?”
Shanae’s lips twitch into a faint smile. “I was a teacher. High school history and government.”
“Did you teach about slavery?” Jamie asks, his expression serious.
Her smile fades, replaced by a softer, more reflective look. “I did. We talked about a lot of things—slavery, civil rights, Indigenous rights. Things that shaped the world and still affect people today.”
“What did your students think?” Jamie tilts his head like he’s filing away her answers for later.
Shanae sighs. “Some of them understood how big and awful it was… still is in some countries. Others…. Well, some thought it didn’t matter anymore. That it was just history, something they didn’t have to worry about.”
Jamie frowns, clearly not satisfied with that. He shifts on his feet, his mind visibly working through her words.
Solan steps closer to me, his voice low in my mind.“Jamie’s thinking harder about this than most adults.”
I nod, watching my nephew. His voice comes again, quieter this time. “Mr Johns said it’s everyone’s responsibility to make things better, even if it’s hard. ’Cause if you don’t, you’re just letting it happen.”
My chest tightens at his repeated words from earlier. Jamie’s always been sharp, but this? He’s still making statements, asking probing questions that I’m not sure I have the courage to answer. He’s right, though. I know he is.
Solan clears his throat, speaking aloud now. “Wise words, Jamie. It takes courage to face something wrong and do what’s needed to stop it. But it’s not always clear what the right thing is.”
Jamie looks up at him, his expression steady. “So, what’s the right thing now?”
Solan hesitates, the weight of the question clear in his golden eyes. “We learn. We understand what’s happening here and why. And when the time comes to decide, we stand together.”
There’s a flicker of approval in Shanae’s gaze as she listens. I feel a similar surge of admiration, both for Solan’s words and for Jamie’s determination.
Still, the questions linger in my mind. I reach out to Solan telepathically. “I’ve been thinking more about the rifts. About why they happen. If someoneiscreating them deliberately,maybe it’s the queen—under her order—or someone else entirely. Varek said the crown fears the power bonded pairs have. What if this is about controlling that power?”
His thoughts sharpen, his attention immediate.“Go on.”
