Dragon's Claim: A SciFi Alien Romance (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 9) by Miranda Martin

Author:Miranda Martin [Martin, Miranda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grab Miranda Martin’s Newsletter and be the first to know about new releases, deals and general antics
Published: 2018-08-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Penelope

After I calm down, I realize that Bashir is right about not antagonizing Jackson and the others, even to defend Rosalind. I still have to bite my tongue quite a few times as we spend time around the New Village.

I leave our quarters by myself the next afternoon, figuring I might be able to do more good on my own without Bashir there to remind them that I'm with one of the dreaded Zmaj. After getting to know him like I have, the whole thing seems even more stupid. I don't know anyone kinder or more level-headed than he is.

As I make the walk to the well for water, I smile at the people I pass, trying to look friendly and inviting. I don't always get a return smile, but the few that I do get give me hope. Maybe everyone here isn't as opposed to us as I fear. Even a small crack in the general shunning is a good sign, right?

Right.

Near the well, a small group of people catches my eye. They're gathered around a beady-eyed little man, his balding scalp shining and red in the sunlight. I frown. Elmer? If I remember correctly, he was the tailor on the ship. Sounds pretty innocuous, but he was actually quite a nuisance. His favorite pastime seemed to be riling people up with harmful gossip whenever he had the chance. Some people are just not meant to be around others, as far as I'm concerned. What is he saying that has people gathered around him like that?

When I slow to listen, he turns those small, mean eyes over to me, glaring as I walk past the little knot of people to get to the well.

"...Gershom was a lying fiend who nearly killed us all. However, he had some points that we should consider..."

Some of the crowd turn to look at me as well, their gazes unfriendly.

"...we have to be smart, we have to be in control of our own fates moving forward..."

I frown as I catch snippets of what Elmer is saying. What is he doing? I slow down to catch more of his impassioned tirade, hearing internal alarm bells ringing as rhetoric that sounds eerily familiar hits me.

He's espousing some of the anti-Zmaj, human traditionalist ideas that Gershom had made popular. Is he trying to carve out a new identity based on the previous leader's persona? How can he call him a lying fiend and then co-opt some of the man's ideas for himself?

My sense of unease grows as I listen. This sounds like the same kind of incendiary commentary that caused the trouble between us and the Zmaj before. Between us and ourselves, honestly. And I don't like it one bit.

I also don't like being watched like a hawk while I fetch water, those hate-filled eyes locked on me as though I'm invading his space.

"It's a public square, buddy," I mutter under my breath as I retrieve the water.

"He doesn't care," a woman scoffs next to me.

I look over at the voice.

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