Page 11 of Into Orbit
I frowned at the odd choice of words.
The Captain blinked. ‘I …’ She trailed off, her eyes widening.
Ashton turned; his face rippled with an expression of shock, then, so brief I might have imagined it,hurt, before it settled back into a scowl.
‘You’rebonded?’
Thehumanfemalewentrigid beside me.
It was a different word in her language –married– but I didn’t have time to ponder the difference. ‘Yes,’ I said with a calm I did not feel. ‘I am her bonded.’
‘Elswyth,’ my mother said desperately, ‘those customs are outdated. They came from a time when we fought over the Hamadryad, when they were stolen and imprisoned and forced into bondships. They are no longer our way, no longer recognised by the Grove’s laws. You don’t have to –’
I looked her straight in the eye. ‘Iwant to, Captain. And you want your Hamadryad happy, do you not?’
My mother’s nostrils flared. It was a rhetorical question. An unhappy Hamadryad meant an unhappy Forest, which meant asickForest, a possiblydyingForest – which meant a dyingship.
The Forests were the heart of my home planet, Tir – large, tree-filled territories inhabited by Tirian families who formed allegiances within the boundaries of their land. When my kind began building ships and travelling larger distances through space, we’d realised swiftly that the Forests were more important than we’d thought; without them, we succumbed quickly to illness and space madness – and worse.
So my kind had found a way to take their Forestswiththem.
It had failed, at first. For hundreds of years, it failed over and over again, the Forests on board the ships wilting and dying during cross-Sector travel, the Tirian sailors following not long after. Eventually, some clever soul thought:the Hamadryad. The spirits of the Forests. Put them on board and see what happens.
It was a success, of course, because the Hamadryad were linked to their Forests in an inextricable and fundamental way, byelyaand biology and something even more mysterious again. They couldn’t help but keep their Forest alive, and, in turn, the Forest did its best to make its Hamadryad happy. The result was a fleet of huge ships that were essentially small cities moving at speed through space, all built around a central Forest and its resident Hamadryad.
The Hamadryad also experienced an unintended benefit: we went from being – as my mother had eloquently put it, skirting over what it truly meant –stolen and imprisoned and forced into bondshipsby Tirians who wanted control of a Forest and its territory and resources, to beingfree. Well, relatively speaking. Suddenly, wecouldn’tbe forced into a bond, because our anguish threatened the on-board Forest with death. Wecouldn’tbe imprisoned, because that made us unhappy, which in turn made the Forest wilt. Wecouldn’tbe forced into families, forced into bed, forced to breed in the hope we would birth another Hamadryad daughter, because if we were, we would let the on-board Forest die – along with all other souls on board our ship.
It had given us power, while simultaneously keeping us chained, only now we were chained toshipsinstead of power-hungry partners. I, for one, was grateful for it; while I might still be bound to a captain’s whim, at least I got to see the universe.Andmy captain was my mother, so I was, at least, familiar with my tyrant.
My mother was not a Hamadryad. There were none in our line, as far back as anyone could remember. I was the rarest of the rare, not just a Hamadryad, but one sent by the green gods – or so the Priestesses told us. I didn’tfeelvery godly, especially not with the beautiful human on one side of me, my hand tight on her waist, and Ashton on the other. My skin felt too tight, my core was hot, and I kept tripping over my own tongue.
I felt very organic, indeed.
‘Elswyth,’ my mother said softly. ‘This is not what I wanted for you.’
My mother hadn’t wanted me on board the ship, either. She wanted me safe at home on Tir, growing a large and lush Forest and becoming just as large and lush myself. She wanted my heartree to grow deep roots and long branches, and for suitors to fight for the privilege of my notice.
I lifted my chin. I’d promised to help Maeve, so I would, and this was how Icould. I’d never asked for anything before, and I decided that it was time I did; I wasnotgoing to back down. ‘This is whatIwant, Captain.’
She ground her teeth in frustration, but she couldn’t refuse, and she knew it – not in front of the engineers and guards, and not when I’d made my wishes – and threat – clear. I’d outplayed her.
Unfortunately, this was mymother, the youngest captain in the entire Tirian fleet, and she always had a trick or seven up her branches.
‘Fine,’ she snapped. She turned and gestured to an engineer, who had been watching the entire thing unfold with wide eyes, her fingers flicking over her personal screen, no doubt relaying every moment to her parents and friends. The news would already have spread through the ship like fire-moss: there were no secrets in a place like this. ‘Go and ready a family room for the Hamadryad and the human. They are newly bonded and will need privacy.’
Despite the task not being even remotely close to the engineer’s job description, she gave a low bow and fled to obey my mother’s instruction.
‘If you want a bondship, Lady,’ my mother said, studying me, daring me to say otherwise, ‘then a bondship you shall have.’
I kept my face blank, but Maeve didn’t; her dismay was obvious. Something like hurt twisted in my stomach. Surely I wasn’tthatrepulsive. But then again, I knew almost nothing about humans; perhaps I wasn’t the kind of being she would have considered.
It’s not real, I reminded myself.She’s not really your bonded.
‘You will visit the Forest – and the bees – on your way to your new room,’ my mother went on, her tone brooking no argument.
‘Captain,’ Willow said in his deep, soft voice. ‘We should follow the decontamination procedure.’
My mother inclined her head, her frustration with Willow overshadowed by her need to keep her ship safe. ‘As you say, Doctor. And Ashton,’ she said, turning to the First Guard, who paled, ‘we should discuss how this couldpossiblyhave happened.’
