“We don’t have to go, you know,” Morgan said, watching Issa study herself in the mirror. They’d moved into the master suite of the tower, and the bank of mirrors near the closet was proving to be one of Issa’s favorite features of their new accommodations.

“You’re joking, right? Have you ever been on a skyship? I haven’t! I’ve never even seen one as big as the Skybreaker; I want to see what the inside is like!”

“Yeah, I suppose it will be neat to see what it’s like inside.” Morgan walked over to the northern windows and looked out over the grassy field to the colony wall and the huge airship tethered there. Because of the tower’s position at the top of a gentle slope and its height, Morgan felt like he was looking down at the vessel's deck. “It’s kind of cool to know these windows aren’t visible from the outside. I can stand here staring at the little people out there and not worrying about who might see me watching.”

“Rather suspect behavior!” Issa said with a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Morgan chuckled. “Hey, I want to see Ykleedra before we go. I’ve been putting it off, and I’m already dressed and ready, so how about I meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes?”

“Sure, I could do without you staring at me for a while.” Issa walked toward the closet, where she’d hung some of her extra clothes. Morgan had thought the bedroom-sized, walk-in wardrobe rather superfluous, given their dimensional containers, but Issa had been thrilled to look at all her clothes hanging next to each other, saying something about being able to picture her outfits more clearly.

He walked over to the stairwell and, the atrium in mind, started downward. He stepped onto the landing a moment later and turned to regard the warmly lit garden through the paneled glass wall. Morgan had definitely been putting this off, he realized, a sinking feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t scared or worried about Ykleedra’s eggs. No, he was worried about facing the girl who was so fearful of him that she’d held onto such an important secret. She’d been afraid he’d destroy her eggs, according to Issa. “How do I respond to something like that?”

Shaking his head, Morgan walked up to the atrium door and stepped inside. It was warm and the air moist, and he resolved to talk to Tiladia about adjusting the light so that it wasn’t quite so hot and bright in there during the artificial “day.” If he were going to have a bunch of young Yovashi living in the atrium, he should make it more comfortable for them. “Ykleedra?” he called out.

“Morgan!” Ykleedra came out of the nearby foliage almost immediately, and Morgan wondered if she’d been on her way somewhere or if her burrow was that close. Should he ask to see her burrow? Was that overstepping? She stood there, head poking out of the ferns, her eyes slightly downcast, and, though her face was devoid of typical human emotion, Morgan thought he saw trepidation writ there.

“Hey, Ykleedra. I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long. I’m sorry I haven’t been here to help while you were going through such a tough time.” He took a step forward, and Ykleedra brought two feet out of the foliage and stepped closer, drawing herself out of the shadows. She still wore the same silvery robe she’d had on when Morgan met her, and he realized it must be enchanted because it fit her still, though she’d grown, and was shimmering and clean.

“Morgan, I’m so happy that you’re okay. I was distraught when I heard about you being lost through an enemy portal.” She ducked her head shyly, her long, spider-like legs bent and curled in to make her seem smaller than she was. Was this a defense mechanism? Was she making herself small so he’d feel more sympathy for her? Morgan hated himself for analyzing her that way, and it made him realize that he still harbored doubts about the Yovashi, even Ykleedra. He determined to make up for it.

“Ykleedra, I heard about your sisters, and I want you to know that I’m not upset. Well, I’m not upset with you. I’m a little upset at myself for not making you feel welcome or comfortable enough to trust me with your secret. I hope you believe me when I say that I want your sisters to be safe, and I want you all to stay here. I can help you in any way you need, all right?”

“Really, Morgan?” Her head came up, and she looked into his eyes for the first time. The fathomless black pools of her eyes looked moist, and Morgan was happy to see that they squinted slightly, showing more emotion than he thought she was capable of. Even her thin lips stretched into a slight smile, revealing her pointy white teeth. Had he seen her smile before? He stepped forward and held out a hand, part of him dreading what he was about to do.

“Take my hand, Ykleedra,” he said, standing before her, towering over her, really.

“Take your hand?” She tilted her head quizzically.

“Hold my hand. With one of your, uh, tentacles.” The girl’s head tilted even more, and she stared at Morgan for a second, but then a thin, gray tentacle snaked out from beneath Ykleedra’s robe and curled around Morgan’s hand. He forced himself to remain still, and when the warm, dry appendage curled around his wrist and hand, he closed his fingers around it, holding it softly. “In my culture, sometimes people shake hands as a show of sincerity. I want you to know that I trust you and that I’m never going to hurt you or your sisters. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Do you trust me, Ykleedra?”

“You’re the first person I’ve touched, Morgan. Other than my family, I guess.” The tentacle gently quivered as the tip advanced along his wrist, holding onto him more firmly. Morgan was dismayed to see liquid pooling in Ykleedra’s eyes and then tears streaming down her cheeks. Her words hit him so strongly that his eyes filled with tears as well, and he pulled her toward him, leaning down to wrap his other arm around her very humanoid torso and squeeze her into a hug.

“I’m sorry, Ykleedra,” was all he could say as the girl leaned her head into his shoulder and her tears soaked his white dress shirt. After a time, he stepped back and was happy to see that she still held onto his hand. Another tentacle reached up, through the top of her robe, to wipe at her face. “You going to be okay?”

“I am, Morgan. I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you,” a sob caught in her throat, and she continued, “I’m sorry my father killed your friends, and I’m sorry my mother and grandmother were hostile to your kind. I wish they could have learned what you were really like.” Tears continued to stream down her face, and she continued to wipe them away. Morgan opened his mouth to argue, to say he’d been the aggressor in her home, but she was right—they’d had a dead human in the house, and the grandmother had been teaching Ykleedra how to kill and butcher him.

“Let’s try to forget the past and move forward, alright? Now, what can I do for you and your sisters? Do you want me to hire some workers to help you build a proper home in here? Issa says you’re all living in a burrow?”

“Could you really do that? The atrium is big, but would you be okay with a house here?”

“Hell yes, I’d be okay with it!” Morgan laughed. “How cool would that be? A house in my atrium in my tower? I’ll talk to the council, see who’s doing the best building, and I’ll hire them, alright?”

“Thank you, Morgan!”

“What about food?”

“Miss Issa has given me a vast quantity. We’ll be fine for a long while, Morgan.” Her tentacle, still in Morgan’s hand, pulsed and flexed softly with her emotion, and Morgan found he was enjoying her gentle, warm touch. It was nothing like he’d feared it would be. Still, he slowly disengaged his grasp and pulled his hand back, letting it fall away.

“I have to go to a dinner meeting, Ykleedra. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes. I will await you. Would you like to meet my sisters tomorrow?”

“Of course! I was going to ask if I could!” Morgan smiled and reached forward to gently squeeze Ykleedra’s shoulder where one of her front spider legs protruded. The junction where the hard, chitin-covered appendage met her softer, humanoid shoulder was strange under the fabric of her robe, but Morgan kept his smile in place, then waved and turned to leave.

“Morgan, your new wings are impressive,” Ykleedra said as he neared the atrium door.

“Hah, thank you, Ykleedra. Would you like to hear the story of how I got them? When I visit tomorrow, let’s do some catching up, alright?”

“Yes, I’d like that very much.” Ykleedra’s voice seemed small, disappearing in the thick growth of the atrium, and Morgan almost didn’t hear it as he began descending the steps.

Morgan found Issa already waiting for him in the tower foyer. She wore a blue, sleeveless dress, several shades darker than her skin, and though it fell to below her knees, it was made of sheer fabric that clung to her in all the right ways. “Goddamn, you look good,” he said, striding over to her and leaning down to kiss her gently. She barely allowed their lips to touch, clearly worried he’d mess up her pink lip makeup. Her eyes were also shadowed with pink makeup, and Morgan had to admit the color looked amazing against her natural shading.

“What happened to your shirt?” she asked, running a palm over his chest where it was still damp.

“Uh, God, I just had a very emotional talk with Ykleedra. I hugged her, Issa, and it was the first time anyone’s touched her since her family was killed. Can you imagine that?” Issa’s face fell at his words, the smile leaving her face and eyes.

“No, I can’t, Morgan. Ancestors! Are we monsters?”

“I don’t think so! I don’t know, though. I mean . . .” Morgan looked around, then nodded to the door. “Let’s go outside, hmm? We can talk while we walk.” He led Issa out of the tower, and when they were walking over the blue, twilit grass toward the northeastern tower, he continued his train of thought, “I never had an urge to touch her, and she always kept her tentacles tucked away, you know, keeping her distance. I thought she was sort of reclusive and standoffish, but maybe she just recognized in our eyes, my eyes, that there are things about her that are, ugh, I don’t know, strange, unpleasant?”

“The tentacles? The spider legs? The dark, emotionless eyes?” Issa said softly, clearly also feeling guilty.

“They aren’t emotionless, though, Issa! I thought so too, but tonight, when I spoke to her, I saw fear, joy, relief, and warmth. She cried!”

“Right, well, we need to start helping her acclimate more. We need to spend more time with her, and I’m going to hug her when I see her next. Ancestors!”

“I told her I would have a house built for her and her sisters in the atrium. There’s got to be a couple of acres of space in there, and I think a dwelling like her old home would be good. I don’t like her living in a burrow, especially with little children.”

“That’s a wonderful idea. I’ll speak to Alicia—her team did a great job on the stable, and if you describe what you want, I’m sure they can do it.”

“Alicia? What’s her last name?”

“Um, something long, like Watertown. I’m really not sure.”

“No worries; you can introduce us, and I’ll ask her,” Morgan said, looking toward the ship, growing larger as they approached. “How about I fly us up there? We can arrive in style.”

“In this dress? I don’t think so, love.” Issa laughed, shaking her head.