Page 61 of Emerald

But my movements make noise, multiple clinks of metal against metal. I freeze, my heart slamming in my chest as the creature whips around, its green eyes narrowing in on my hiding spot.

"Dammit," I whisper, gripping the sharp object tighter in my hand.

The creature lets out a deep, menacing hiss, and then lunges straight toward me.

18

Kroaicho

Ipullinadeep breath of above-ground air as I berate myself for the things I said. Why did I say zha was broken? Zha’s body and face instantly changed to that odd way zha could be. It made me realize that what zha was showing before——in zha’s exhaustion——was the truth.

Why did I say something so terrible? Why did I bring back the lie? The way zha looked changed so quickly. Emotion colors would make this so much easier.

How do I even know it’s the lie, though? My skin is a swirl of purple self-hatred and blue. My zhann did not prepare me for this. Well… aside from being very firm that a hoard did not include pets.

I let out a series of clicks. Olivia isn’t a pet. There was no wisdom passed down that could ever help me right now. My mistakes are my own.

A snap of a branch brings me out of castigating myself. Then I hear a language I hoped I never would hear again. Manticorid.

My skin instantly lights up red, but I try to mute it. I would be a beacon in the darkness, but it is hard. I have never been so terrified.

“I know I smelled a human, my Ree,” comes the harsh voice, and I swallow thickly when I recognize a native speaker. “And I just heard clicks and smell a new type of prey.”

If I don’t run, I’m going to die, but then something else catches my attention and a different emotion rises up amid the fear. A human…

They want to take Olivia. Just like the pink human wanted.

Anger starts to displace the fear, but it doesn’t make me reckless. I creep slowly back to the cave entrance.

“There…” a roar comes next, then the sound of breaking branches, rapidly coming toward me. I can’t help the flare of red and I abandon stealth, instead dropping to all six limbs, running as fast as I can deep into the cave. It’s cavernous here. Far too open to block off, not to mention dangerously stupid to try.

I increase my pace, heart pounding, making my way toward the smaller tunnel I just dug.

Another voice calls out, this one with an accent that suggest they aren’t manticorid. “We just want to talk,” zha cries out.

No manticorid just wants to talk. My zhann passed on the stories. I run faster, recklessly crashing through pillars of minerals, relieved to finally see the fresh dirt of my tunnel.

The next frantic movements I barely remember, except that I spend far more time collapsing the tunnel in my panic than needed. I’m still panting, the cave section I’m in lights up brightly with my red fear when I get back control of myself.

Something catches my eye, my mind more than willing to focus on something else besides terror. I’m piling rocks into my arms frantically a moment later.

Then I crouch down, gazing at a delicate tangle of glowing vines nestled in the crook of the stone wall, their light casting a soft glow across the cave. The way the light plays off the jagged rocks reminds me of a childhood memory, a distant echo from when my zhann would lead me through the caves of my home world, teaching me how to spot treasure.

The vines seem like a perfect find—almost too perfect. They thrum faintly, in sync with my heartbeat, drawing me in like an insect to a pulsing trap. The tendrils reach into the rock, as if they are embracing it, bolstering it, as if the story of its existence is to integrate itself with what is around it. Fascinating.

A part of me longs to pluck them from the rock and add them to my growing hoard so I can study how they integrate, but I'm already carrying too much. The pile of gleaming rocks balanced precariously in my arms shudders with every slight movement, and one more item might topple the whole lot.

I chitter in frustration, my skin flashing light purple as the irritation mounts. The soft flicker of color reflecting off the cave walls only amplifies my annoyance. I shouldn't be this bothered, but the thought of leaving these glowing vines behind gnaws at me. They could make a beautiful addition to the growing pile—a glowing centerpiece that would outshine everything else. I shift the pile of treasures I'm holding, trying again to wedge the vines in between two of the larger rocks. For a moment, I think I've managed it, balancing them just so. But as I take a step, everything teeters dangerously. A stone clatters to the ground, and I hiss under my breath.

"Demiurge curse it," I mutter, the sound low and bitter, echoing off the cave walls. The sound feels strange in this stillness, the silence of the cave swallowing up my voice almost instantly. I'll just have to come back for the vines later. For now, I need to secure these treasures back in my hoard. With a few more muttered curses about the inconvenience, I make a mental note of the vines' location. My memory is flawless when it comes to treasure. I'll be able to trace my way back easily, and when I return, they'll be waiting for me. I hope.

With the vines abandoned for the time being, I begin the trek back to the main cave, my six limbs working in unison as I move through the narrow tunnels. The rocks underfoot feel more jagged than usual, each step pressing the uneven surface into the soft pads of my feet. It's not painful, but it's enough to distract me. I adjust my hold on the treasures again, feeling the weight of the stones pressing into my chest.

As I walk, my mind drifts to the earlier conversation with Olivia. I still don't understand why zha’s words sting the way they do. I've dealt with biting remarks from others before—zhannel who thought they were superior to me, mockers who ridiculed me after my zhann passed on—but Olivia? Zha lights my skin purple in a way I can't explain. It's as if each sarcastic comment zha throws at me sticks somewhere deep, making my skin flash with irritation that I have to fight down.

"Stupid human," I grumble, adjusting my grip on the stones as I navigate a tight turn in the tunnel. The walls close in here, a narrow passage I've walked countless times before, yet today it feels suffocating. Zha is probably still sitting by the fire, glaring into the flames with that angry look on zha’s face.

The image is oddly amusing, and I feel my skin glow briefly with white before it returns to a more neutral hue. I should have left long ago—treasures wait for no one, after all—but something about the way Olivia clacks, the way zha refuses to back down, keeps me circling back to zha.

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