Rubbing my fist against my chest harder, I can feel that strange hurt double and then triple. Without thinking, I blurt out what I am thinking, “I am not injured or sick.”
Surprise registers on her face at my unexpected outburst. Yet, she also seems concerned, judging by her wide eyes. “Where did that come from?”
“My chest hurts when you talk, but the healer reports my medical scan is normal.”
Tilting her head, she looks at my fist, which is still rubbing against my chest. “I’m glad you are well. I also feel a tightness in my chest, particularly when thinking about my mother.”
“You do? In spite of what you might think, her disappearance was not your fault. Being a youngling makes you blameless. Besides, you do not know that anything bad happened to her. She might still be well and living a happy life with a family who has some care for her wellbeing.”
Tears gather in her eyes, making them look glassy. Sitting so close, I can see my proud Drakon form reflected back at me in her sad blue eyes. “It hurts not knowing what happened to her. I wonder if she is locked in a cage of her own somewhere or being forced to breed one child after another for some strange alien. Thinking about such things keeps me awake at night and haunts my dreams.”
The door opens and a member of my crew walks in with two small boxes. I gesture to the floor beside me. He drops the supplies I requested gently onto the floor. His eyes wander over to the brooder and something about that sets my nerves on edge. Forcing the irritation from my voice, I speak without looking at him, “That will be all. Return to your duties.”
“Yes, sir.”
The moment the door closes behind him, I grab one of the boxes and use a sharp claw to break the seal. The silence is awkward, so I speak. “Where did you last hear of your mother being?”
“About five years ago, a miner told me that he saw someone fitting her description on Lamont’s second moon. I wasn’t able to look for her.”
Stacking a fist full of food bars inside her cell, I begin to open the other box. My claw makes a slight hissing noise as I cut through the box top. “Is locating your mother one of the things you wished to do after escaping the Pax?”
She nods at me and I see her eyes fill with tears anew. A new hurt explodes in my chest. Her misery feels like it’s my fault, but I know this cannot be. “You should eat and drink more. Brooders should be plump and happy, not skinny and wretched.”
“Thanks for that stunning insight into the female form.” Her tone of voice is bland and makes me wonder if human women have the capacity to plump up. My sire’s doesn’t seem to plump, no matter how much we feed her. Something about watching her eat strikes me as elegant. Her lips are delicate, and her hands appear childlike wrapped around a Drakon food bar. To know that all this creature thinks about is finding her mother and her next meal affects me in ways I don’t understand.
Words tumble out of my mouth that I don’t intend. “I can well understand how difficult it is to be motherless as a child. I lost my mother when I was young as well.”
“That must have been terrible for you.”
“For a Drakon Prime such as myself, the loss is more disheartening than damaging. For a female child I suspect it is worse.”
“Did your other family members step up?”
“My sire’s brooder, Alana took an interest in me. At the time, I thought it was to curry favor. I now realize the female had no reason to curry favor, for she had always been favored among his females.”
“How many females does your sire have?”
“Many. All Drakon warriors collect something. I collect ancient weapons. Our healer collects rare DNA samples from extinct species. My second-in-command collects Drakon shell fragments. My sire collects exotic females. Collecting is in our nature.”
“Wow, I never knew that Drakons were collectors. What did your mother think of his collection?”
“It bothered her not. My mother was his true and legal mate. All the others were secondary. Drakon females cycle once per year. Though she brooded for my sire six times before she passed into legend, she rarely stayed in our home. She was a free spirit who liked to travel to the far reaches of the known universe.”
“Six is a lot of babies.”
“Hatchlings. We come from a shell. Please remember that.”
“How did your brothers and sisters handle her passing?”
“All five of my older hatch mates perished as well. My sire took the losses badly, for several reasons. Foremost among them was my mother’s death broke the bond between them. Drakons bond securely to their life mate and severing the bond is physically painful. Also lost were the sons who had been destined to be the heirs to his great fortune. He had raised the oldest three to follow in his footsteps. All in all, it was a loss not to be born.”
“I’m so sorry. Do you mind if I ask how she died?”
“It is a sad story. Our ship was attacked and although we were victorious, there was a fire that spread to the family quarters. I was tiny and my mother ripped off the front of an air vent and told me to crawl. After seeing five turnings of the seasons, I was the only one small enough to fit and therefore the only one to survive.”
“I’m surprised the smoke didn’t fill the ductwork. Five-year-olds have small lungs.”
“It did, but she strapped an emergency mask
