Chapter 96: Chapter 96
Tempest took a few steps forward before she realized that Dron was walking just a little too close behind her. Not enough that he was touching her but enough that she could feel him. Feel his anger. Feel the way he was barely holding himself back. The children must’ve been able to feel it too because one of them squeaked and disappeared completely behind the boulder. Tempest stopped walking and turned slightly to look at Dron over her shoulder.
"You have to relax." Tempest whispered.
"I am relaxed." Dron growled.
Tempest lifted a brow.
He was not relaxed.
Not even close.
He looked like a wild animal pretending to be domesticated. His shoulders were tight. His jaw was locked. His eyes kept darting across the trees and then back to the boulder as if he expected a grown warrior to jump out from behind it at any second. Tempest understood why he was acting the way that he was. After everything that had happened to them, she couldn’t really blame him for being suspicious. Still, these were children. Tiny little children who were doing a terrible job of hiding. She could see the top of one small head peeking over the rock and another pair of eyes staring at her from the side.
"They’re scared." Tempest said softly.
"They should be."
"Dron."
"What?" He glanced down at her. "They snuck onto my land. They watched you through the window. I have every right to be suspicious."
"You can be suspicious without looking like you’re about to rip their limbs off."
Gerax coughed from behind them, and Tempest was almost positive that he was trying not to laugh. Mexyn was still floating above Tempest’s wrist communicator, her tiny holographic image looking as stressed as anyone could possibly look when they were reduced to the size of a doll. Squab was doing little hops near Tempest’s ankles, its fur still standing straight up like it was trying to make itself appear larger than it really was. The whole thing should’ve been ridiculous. In another world, maybe Tempest would’ve laughed.
But she couldn’t.
Not when the children were shaking.
Tempest turned back toward the boulder and lowered herself into a crouch. She didn’t know much about alien children. She didn’t know if they were stronger than her, faster than her, or capable of doing things human children could never do, but fear looked the same on every face. Fear looked like hunched shoulders. Wide eyes. Little hands gripping onto whatever they could reach. Tempest tried to make herself smaller. Less threatening.
"Hi." She called softly. "I’m Tempest."
No one answered.
One of the children ducked again.
Tempest smiled even though her heart felt like it was being squeezed inside her chest. "I already know you’re back there. You don’t have to hide."
Still nothing.
Dron shifted behind her.
The smallest movement caused another squeak to come from behind the boulder.
Tempest shot him another warning look.
He lifted both hands slightly as if to say he hadn’t done anything.
"You’re very scary right now." Tempest whispered.
"I’m always scary."
"That’s not something to be proud of at the moment."
Dron’s nostrils flared but thankfully he didn’t argue. Tempest turned back to the children and tried again. She held her hands up so they could see she wasn’t holding anything. It felt silly. She didn’t even know if that gesture meant the same thing here that it did on Earth, but she hoped fear was universal enough that they would understand she wasn’t trying to hurt them.
"I’m not angry." Tempest said. "No one is going to hurt you."
Dron made a low sound in the back of his throat.
Tempest didn’t look at him this time. If she looked at him again she was afraid that he might take that as permission to speak and that was the last thing she needed. Dron was wonderful in many ways. Gentle with her. Protective. Thoughtful when he wanted to be. But delicate social interactions with frightened children clearly were not his greatest strength.
A tiny face appeared from around the side of the boulder.
Tempest’s breath caught.
It was a little girl.
At least Tempest thought it was a little girl. She looked close enough to human that it made Tempest’s heart twist painfully. Her skin had a faint lavender tint to it and her eyes were a little too large for her small face, but she was still just a child. A dirty, frightened child with tangled hair and clothes that looked as if they had been handed down too many times. The fabric hung awkwardly in some places and pulled too tight in others. One sleeve had been torn almost completely off. The hem stopped too high above her knees, and there were holes near the side that looked like they had been stitched together and ripped open again.
Instantly, Tempest felt bad.
Not just bad.
Sick.
The little girl looked like she hadn’t had anything new in a very long time. Her feet were bare and dirty. There were scratches up her calves. Her cheeks were too hollow for a child, and yet she was staring at Tempest as if Tempest were something magical. Something worth risking trouble for.
"Hi." Tempest said again, even softer this time.
The girl didn’t move.
"What’s your name?"
The little girl blinked at her. She looked back at the other children still hiding behind the boulder before she looked at Tempest again.
"Pinat." She whispered.
Tempest’s eyebrows lifted before she could stop herself.
"Pinat?"
The girl nodded.
Tempest tried very hard not to laugh.
She really did.
But the name sounded so much like peanut that a small giggle escaped her before she could stop it. The second it happened, the little girl’s eyes widened, and Tempest immediately regretted it.
"I’m sorry." Tempest hurried to say. "I’m not laughing at you. I promise. Your name just sounds like something from my home."
Pinat tilted her head. "From Earth?"
Tempest stilled.
Hearing Earth come out of the child’s mouth did something strange to her chest. It made the ache she’d been trying to ignore burn hotter for a second. This child knew about Earth. Not in the vague way others knew about it. Not as a story or a forbidden topic whispered about by adults. She said it with wonder.
"Yes." Tempest nodded. "From Earth."
Pinat stepped a little farther from behind the boulder. Another child grabbed the back of her shirt and tried to pull her back but Pinat shrugged them off. Brave little thing. Too brave probably. Tempest had seen that kind of bravery before in kids who had no choice but to be braver than they should’ve been.
"What does it mean?" Pinat asked.
"What does what mean?"
"The Earth word."
"Oh." Tempest smiled slightly. "Peanut is a food. A small food."
Pinat frowned. "My name is not food."
"I know. I know." Tempest bit back another laugh. "It just sounds a little like it. But I like your name. Pinat is pretty."
That seemed to ease some of the girl’s worry.
Dron shifted again, and Pinat immediately stiffened.
Tempest held up a hand toward Dron without taking her eyes off the child. "He’s not going to hurt you."
"He looks like he wants to." Pinat said.
"He looks like that a lot."
Gerax made another sound behind them.
Dron growled. "I can hear both of you."
"Good." Tempest said.
"What are you doing out here?" Tempest asked. "You scared me when I saw you moving through the trees."
Pinat looked down at her feet.
Tempest glanced toward the other children. There were at least four more. Maybe five. It was hard to tell because they were still trying to cram themselves behind a boulder that was not big enough to hide them all. Some were smaller than Pinat. One looked a little older and kept his body positioned in front of the others as if he was prepared to protect them. That made Tempest’s heart ache even more.
"We didn’t mean to scare the human." Pinat said.
The human.
Tempest hated how much that title made her feel like something separate. Something not quite a person. Everyone called her that, but from Pinat’s mouth, it didn’t sound like an insult. It sounded like awe.
"Then why were you sneaking around in the woods behind Dron’s house?"
Pinat looked over Tempest’s shoulder at Dron and then back again. "Because we heard things."
"What kind of things?"
"Rumors." Pinat whispered the word as if it were dangerous.
Tempest slowly shifted until she was sitting on the ground instead of crouching. Her legs were starting to ache and she didn’t want to tower over the child anymore. Squab immediately hopped into her lap as if it belonged there. Pinat’s eyes widened at the sight of it.
"You can come closer." Tempest said. "Only if you want to."
Pinat hesitated.
Dron made a low sound again.
Tempest didn’t even have to turn around. "Dron."
"I didn’t say anything."
"You breathed angry."
"I did not breathe angry."
"You did."
Gerax’s voice came from behind them. "You did breathe rather aggressively."
Dron turned his glare on Gerax, and Tempest took advantage of the distraction to smile at Pinat. "See? He’s not as bad as he looks."
Pinat did not seem convinced, but she did take another small step forward.
Then another.
The other children gasped as if she were walking toward certain death.
Tempest kept herself still. She didn’t reach for the girl. Didn’t move too quickly. She simply waited until Pinat was close enough that Tempest could see the tear in the front of her clothing and the way the stitching had been done with mismatched thread. There was something heartbreaking about it. Something so normal and yet so devastating. Kids on Earth had worn clothes that were too small too. Kids went hungry on Earth too. Poverty wasn’t some strange alien thing. It followed life wherever life existed.
That thought made Tempest’s throat tighten.
"What rumors did you hear?" Tempest asked.
Pinat swallowed. "They said the human is bringing great tidings."
Tempest frowned. "Great tidings?"
Pinat nodded quickly. "To the classes that she goes to. They said wherever you walk, blessings follow."
Tempest looked back at Dron.
He looked just as confused as she felt.
Gerax, however, looked interested.
Too interested.
Mexyn’s tiny hologram leaned closer as if that would somehow help her hear better.
"Who said that?" Tempest asked.
"Everyone." Pinat answered with the certainty of a child who believed the whole world was everyone within earshot. "The ones in the Lower Market. The old ones near the broken fountain. Some of the workers who come back from the Upper Class roads. They said you chose the cursed alpha and he got stronger. They said you went to the arena and the fighters fell. They said you survived the heat and the house glowed for two nights."
Tempest’s cheeks warmed instantly.
That wasn’t what happened in the least but Tempest knew rumors were rarely the truth of the matter.
Pinat’s eyes darted between them before she continued. "They said if we could get close to you, maybe some of the blessing would touch us too."
Tempest’s chest cracked.
Just a little.
Enough that breathing hurt.
"Why do you need a blessing?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.
Pinat looked down at her bare feet again. "We’re from the Poor Class."
The way she said it made Tempest’s heart sink.
Not lower class.
Not working class.
Poor Class.
As if poverty here wasn’t just a circumstance but an official place people were born into and trapped inside.
"We have nothing." Pinat said softly. "Some days we eat. Some days we don’t. The adults say the Blessed have too much and the Poor have what is left after everyone else is done taking."
Tempest’s eyes burned.
She tried to blink it away but it didn’t work.
Pinat looked up at her with complete, childlike hope. "We didn’t want much. Just to see you. Maybe if you looked at us, something good would happen."
That did it.
Tempest teared up before she could stop herself.
She pressed her lips together, trying not to cry in front of a bunch of children who clearly already had too much sadness in their lives. But it was impossible. This little girl had risked sneaking behind the home of a terrifying alpha because she believed Tempest might be able to change her life simply by existing near her.
Tempest didn’t feel like a blessing.
She felt like a mess.
A woman stolen from her home. A woman trying to leave the one person on this planet who had treated her like she mattered. A woman who had no idea what she was doing most of the time.
But Pinat was looking at her like she was hope.
Tempest reached up and wiped beneath her eyes.
"Are you crying?" Pinat asked.
"A little."
"Did I do something bad?"
"No." Tempest shook her head quickly. "No, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything bad."
Dron was suddenly closer.
Tempest could feel him before she even turned.
His anger had shifted into something else. Something quieter. Still protective but not directed at the children anymore. His eyes were on Tempest now, and the intensity there almost made her look away.
Almost.
"Tempest." He said softly.
She knew that tone.
He was worried about her.
Of course he was.
Even now.
Even when she was actively trying to pull herself away from him, he was worried about her.
She turned back to Pinat before her heart could do something stupid like break all the way open.
"How far is the Poor Class from here?" Tempest asked.
Dron immediately stiffened.
"No."
Tempest didn’t look at him. "I wasn’t asking you."
"You should have been."
"Dron."
"No." His voice sharpened. "Absolutely not. You are not walking into an unknown district because a group of children came from the trees with rumors about blessings."
Pinat flinched.
Tempest stood quickly, careful not to jostle Squab too much. "Don’t scare her."
"I am trying to keep you alive."
"And I appreciate that." Tempest took a step closer to him and lowered her voice. "But look at them."
Dron’s jaw clenched.
"Look at them." She repeated.
Reluctantly, he did.
The children were all visible now. Still behind the boulder but visible. Dirty faces. Torn clothes. Thin little arms. Wide eyes that kept bouncing between Tempest and Dron as if they were waiting to find out whether they were in trouble or saved.
Some of the fight left Dron’s face.
Not all of it.
But some.
"They’re children." Tempest whispered. "They came here because they thought I could help them."
"You don’t know that this isn’t a trap."
"No, I don’t." Tempest admitted. "But I also don’t know how to sit here knowing that there is an entire class of people who have nothing and not go see it for myself."
Dron looked away.
Tempest stepped closer, her voice softening. "I know you’re scared."
"I am not scared."
"You are."
His eyes snapped back to hers.
She expected anger.
Instead, she saw pain.
That almost undid her.
"You almost died." Tempest whispered. "I know why you’re scared."
Dron’s face tightened.
"I’m scared too." She admitted. "But if I’m going to be dragged into every political mess on this planet whether I want to be or not, then I at least want to see the people everyone keeps talking about. Not the Council. Not the resistance. Not the Blessed. The people who have nothing."
Gerax stepped forward before Dron could answer.
"I think she’s right."
Dron turned on him. "Of course you do."
Gerax shrugged. "The Poor Class is often ignored in official records. If rumors about Tempest are already spreading there, then it would be useful to understand how and why. Also, if the uprising is gaining sympathy among them, it may give us information we wouldn’t get elsewhere."
Tempest narrowed her eyes at him. "That sounded very scientific and cold."
"It was." Gerax nodded. "But I also don’t like hungry children."
Tempest softened a little.
Dron did not.
"I’m going with you." Dron said.
"I assumed you were." Tempest replied.
"And we are not going alone."
"Gerax is coming."
"Obviously." Gerax said. "I am far too interested to stay behind."
Tempest looked at him. "Interested in the Poor Class?"
Gerax’s gaze flicked between her and Dron.
"Among other things."
Tempest frowned. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing you need to worry about right now."
That was not an answer.
Not even close.
But before Tempest could question him, Dron stepped closer to her, lowering his voice so only she could hear.
"If anything feels wrong, we leave."
Tempest nodded.
"I mean it."
"I know."
"If I tell you to get behind me, you get behind me."
Tempest wanted to argue.
Her pride wanted to remind him that she wasn’t helpless.
But the truth was, she was out of her depth here. Dron knew this world. She didn’t. If they were walking into a place called the Poor Class, she had no idea what to expect.
"Okay." She said.
Dron looked surprised that she agreed so easily.
Tempest gave him a small smile.
"I can be reasonable sometimes."
"No, you can’t." Mexyn said from the communicator.
Tempest gasped. "I forgot you were still there."
"I noticed." Mexyn crossed her arms. "And for the record, I think this is a terrible idea, but since none of you are going to listen to me, keep the screen up."
Tempest almost laughed.
Almost.
Then Pinat tugged lightly on the torn edge of her own shirt.
"You’ll come?" the little girl asked.
Tempest looked down at her.
At the hope in her eyes.
At the clothes that didn’t fit.
At the other children watching her as if her answer mattered more than anything else in the world.
Tempest’s throat tightened again.
"Yes." She said softly. "We’ll come."
Pinat smiled trying to copy the expression on Tempest’s Face. Tempest continued to smile so the little girl could practice. Finally she did it and it made Tempest’s heart swell.
A real smile crossed Pinat’s face.
Bright.
Beautiful.
Painful.
Tempest looked back at Dron, already knowing he was still going to argue with her the entire way there. He looked furious. Worried. Protective. Maybe a little resigned.
But he didn’t tell her no again.
That was all the permission she needed.
"Then we’re going now." Tempest said.
Dron exhaled hard. "Of course we are."
Gerax adjusted the bag over his shoulder with far too much excitement for someone about to walk into an impoverished district because a bunch of children thought Tempest was some sort of living blessing.
"This should be very informative." Gerax muttered.
Tempest looked at him. "Why do you keep saying things like that?"
Gerax only sighed.
Dron growled.
Tempest had no idea what either of them knew that she didn’t, but she didn’t have time to figure it out.
Not right now.
Right now, there were children in front of her who believed she might bring them something good.
For the first time since arriving on Ustea, Tempest wondered if maybe leaving wasn’t the only choice she had to make.
Maybe before she left, she needed to understand exactly what kind of world Dron had been surviving in.
And maybe, just maybe, she needed to decide what kind of mark she wanted to leave behind.
