Page 52 of Akur

“Qrak, no.” Akur’s blade was already in motion. When she grabbed his arm again, the heat beneath his skin nearly burned her. He hissed, jerking away from her touch. In all this, she’d almost forgotten about his condition—the heat that seemed to be consuming him from within. He needed more of that medicine, and soon.

“Wait,” she whispered, her eyes widening as the Tasqal’s garments fell.

The sight stole her breath away. The Tasqal stood naked before them, its toad-like body even more grotesque without the concealing robes. There were so many boils, barely any of its green skin remained untouched. It was taller than her but still appeared squat. Slightly webbed fingers and feet. Humanoid. Alien. But as it turned its back, seemingly indifferent to their horror, she saw something that changed everything. A ridge, a fin, ran down its spine. One that looked horrifyingly familiar.

Did toads have fins? She didn’t think so.

“Gods, no.” The curse tore from Akur’s throat as he stepped forward, his own fin blazing crimson at his nape. The resemblance was undeniable—though the Tasqal’s was smaller, less pronounced, almost vestigial, and the same sickly green as its troubled skin.

“Gods…” The word escaped Akur like a prayer, or perhaps another curse.

“The female that took my progenitor’s seed,” the Tasqal said, its voice carrying an emotion she couldn’t quite name, “was Shum’ai.”

“Impossible.” Akur stumbled back, and for the first time since she’d met him, she saw genuine fear in his eyes. “Your species wipes out all traces of the mor’s biological contribution. That is part of your curse.”

“Yes,” the Tasqal said, reaching for its robe with trembling fingers. “But I am different.” It slipped the garment back on in silence, while she and Akur stood frozen, as if witnessing something that shouldn’t exist. “There are others like me. Others that bear the evidence of my species’ biological deterioration. My bloodline…it is tainted. Diluted. The fin…” Its webbed hand brushed the ridge briefly, “…is a physical manifestation of this…mingling. But the true change…it is within. We, the tainted ones, we wish for how it was before the…the sickness. A time when our people were not driven by conquest and…and breeding.”

The Tasqal finished adjusting its robe, and Constance saw something she hadn’t noticed before—the way it winced at each movement, how its face tightened with concealed pain.

Despite herself, despite everything these creatures had done, she stepped forward. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

The Tasqal went absolutely still. Behind her, she felt Akur’s heat flare as he moved closer, ready to intervene if needed.

“The boils. They hurt.”

Those dark eyes studied her. A long moment passed before it spoke.“If I do not pass on my seed, this existence will have been long and painful for nothing.”

She met its gaze steadily, understanding dawning. “And if you do what your species has been doing for centuries to stay alive, you’ll only be dooming your young to the same pain.”

Something shifted in those alien eyes, a recognition that made them seem almost…human. “Yesss,” it hissed, moving closer with unnatural speed until it was mere inches from her face. She could smell its decay, feel the cold seeping from its diseased skin.

“Don’t—” She held up a hand to stop Akur’s advance, pressing back against his burning chest to keep him in place. Every instinct screamed at her to retreat, but she stood her ground.

“You are more intelligent than my kin realizes…” The Tasqal leaned in closer, inhaling deeply. Every hair on her body stood on end, but she forced herself to remain still. As Akur growled, a sound promising violence, the Tasqal shifted back slightly, blinking those enormous eyes.

“You’re telling us all this because of guilt? Pain?” She was surprised her voice remained steady despite her racing heart.

Its huge liquid eyes narrowed slightly. “Perhaps.”

She saw its lips twist as Akur wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. The heat of him was almost unbearable now, but she welcomed it—anything to chase away the chill of the Tasqal’s presence.

“Or perhaps it is the Shum’ai in me. And so…I will help you do what must be done. To end this.”

Constance stared at the Tasqal, the weight of its words settling like lead in her stomach. “Your entire species…you’re asking us to condemn them to death.”

“Destroying the orb will not condemn us.” The Tasqal’s voice grew gentle, almost paternal. “But it will slow us down. Until another faction rises like the Restitution did to fight against us again.” Those bottomless eyes studied her, still intense. “Maybe we will die as we should have long ago. Before we destroyed countless civilizations. Before we became monsters.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Behind her, Akur cursed violently, releasing her to stalk across the room. His fist connected with the stone wall with enough force to send tremors through the foundation, but she doubted he even felt the impact through his rage.

“You want us to help you? To end your existence? My qrakking pleasure.” Akur’s voice dripped venom. “We will. But that means we need a way off this cursed rock. You’re giving us a ship, scum?”

“The Citadel of Dawn.” Urgency crept into the Tasqal’s voice. “You must reach it before they find the other human. They only need one.”

“What?” The word stuck in her throat. Theotherhuman. That could only mean they had the silent woman in their grasp. The one who had been taken with her but hadn’t spoken a single word since leaving those cryo pods. Constance’s stomach churned at the thought.What had they done to her?

The Tasqal’s focus shifted, and she felt the moment its attention left her, like emerging from deep water.

“What do you mean they need only one?” She stepped forward, fear clawing at her chest.

---