“Still on the sands,” Havik answered.
“I would like to inspect the vehicle,” Havik said.
“Sir,” a warrior interjected. Skyll, Havik recalled the male’s name. “The wind has shifted any trace of a trail. There is little to gain and only time to be lost.”
Havik mentally prepared himself to argue why the vehicle potentially had valuable information if Kaos told him no.
“Organize the warriors into a search grid. Start with known locations used by poachers in the past. The sands are vast and shelter is scarce. I will accompany Havik to the vehicle,” Kaos ordered. Skyll and the other warriors burst into action, which Havik used to cover his surprise.
“We will take my vehicle, unless you have one,” Kaos said. He tilted his head toward Havik’s ship.
“I do not.”
Kaos regarded the ship and Havik steeled himself for criticism. All Kaos would see was the paint scoured away by the wind during the years sitting in a junkyard. He did not see how the ship had become a home, how his and Ren’s hard work returned it to the sky and how Thalia breathed life into the craft.
“I had my doubts when I heard reports of you salvaging this craft from the scrapheap. I was certain you would return with your tail in hand.” Kaos nodded, as if satisfied by something only he could observe. “I was wrong.”
The sand could have swallowed Havik whole. His father admitted a mistake. To him.
Never in all his days did he expect to hear those words.
“I am proud that you found your own way. You have grown into the male I always wanted you to be.”
Havik looked at the horizon, his boots, the way the buildings cast a shadow on the sand, and the sky. Any place but his father’s aging face. After a lifetime of bitter disappointment, Kaos spoke the words Havik longed to hear.
“We are wasting the sun,” Havik said at length, because those were the only words he could find.
An uncomfortable silence sat between father and son during the journey. Havik studied a map of the terrain. Ancient roads were buried under the sands, reappearing periodically after a sandstorm. Abandoned settlements emerged for a time, only to be swallowed again with the next storm. An abandoned settlement near enough to a water source could provide shelter to the unscrupulous.
Kaos brought the vehicle to a halt. The engine ticked as it cooled.
Half-buried in a dune, Mais’ vehicle appeared to be damage-free.
“This is not the direction to the settlement,” Havik said.
“We believe she was lured to this location and ambushed.” The vehicle creaked as Kaos opened the driver’s door. “The computer was disabled with an EMP blast. She could not call for help.”
Havik studied his map. “There is an abandoned settlement not far from here.”
“That was the first location I had checked this morning.”
“Your mate did not return in the evening and you waited until the morning to search for her?” The words slipped out before Havik could rein them back.
The warlord’s lips curled back, as if angry. “You have grown free with your words.”
“Appeasing your ego will not find my mother.” Havik lifted his chin, inviting Kaos to strike back with a denial about Mais’ true role in Havik’s life.
Tension crackled in the air and the warlord’s body tensed, as if calculating the risk in striking a younger warrior. Havik would not passively allow the male to land blows. If he wished to hit Havik, he would have to earn it.
He had never done this, stood unyielding to his father’s will. He always acquiesced because Kaos was the warlord and demanded respect. Never once had Havik felt that Kaos earned that respect, but he bowed for the good of the clan. He saw now how that behavior polluted the clan.
Thalia would have refused to bow. She lied and stole as easily as breathing, but she had more integrity than his father’s entire clan.
“I married that female so that you would have a caregiver,” Kaos said.
“A mother.”
“You had a mother,” Kaos retorted, his tone sharp and a scowl on his face. He stepped back and relaxed his expression. “Forgive me. When my mate, your birth mother, died in labor with you, I was bereft. A lost male. I took her closest friend as a mate to care for the child. You. She loved you with her entire heart.”
“Loves,” Havik said.
“Pardon?”
“We do not know if she is deceased. Do not presume.”
The warlord’s lips twisted into a smile. “So young and optimistic. It was wrong of me to deny Mais her status as your mother,” he said, as if conceding a minor point. “She was your mother in every sense. Can you forgive me?”
Suddenly very aware of himself and feeling awkward in his skin in a way he had not since he was a juvenile, Havik studied the map. He tried to keep his tail still, but every position felt wrong. Kaos spoke the words Havik had longed to hear his entire life and it hit the wrong notes.
Kaos frowned at Havik’s lack of an answer. “I am becoming an old male. Will you return to the clan and help me lead? I always planned for you to be the next warlord.”
Havik cleared his throat and focused on the map. “The settlement dates from the great wars. Did you check the tunnels?”
“Surely those have collapsed.”
“We will investigate. It will not be difficult to determine if the tunnels are occupied.” Havik climbed back into Kaos’ vehicle. The tunnels stretched for miles and entrances were built at regular intervals. They merely had to drive the length of the tunnels and looked for spots where the sand had been cleared away.
The sun hovered over the horizon when they found the entrance. Partially buried, enough sand had been moved to expose the hatch door.
Havik checked his weapons and carefully approached the entrance. A fetid, damp smell hung in the air, indicating the presence of water. Several of the ancient tunnels had been built to take advantage of underground springs.
The hatch opened
