A shuddering breath. “I think Mother and Father expected me to give up and return home. When I didn’t, they washed their hands of me.”
Andromeda was lying. Not about her flight to the Refuge, but about another part of her story. It made him want to bare his teeth and demand she tell the truth, but he’d do that later, when she didn’t appear so fragile. “Who did you play with when you lived with your parents?”
“The animals.” Joy chased out the shadows. “Once, while I was having dinner in my nursery, a baby giraffe poked his head in the window and ate the fruit right off my plate.”
Naasir grinned. “Truth?”
She nodded. “It came back, too. I used to make up a plate especially for him until my nanny caught me—and even after that, I waited until she wasn’t paying attention and opened the window so the giraffe could slide its head and neck inside.”
Delighted at the idea of her dining with a giraffe, Naasir said, “Did the other animals also join you for meals?”
A shake of her head. “With the cheetahs, we’d race. I’d be in the air, the cheetahs on the ground.” She blew out a breath. “They’re fast.”
“I’ll race you,” Naasir said. “When we’re free of Lijuan’s spies.”
“Deal.”
As the plane flew onward and the world turned, she told him more stories of her childhood. It betrayed a total lack of other children. Not even any mortal playmates. Andromeda appeared to have had no one but her animals. Maybe that was why she understood him so well, accepted his wildness without hesitation. He was happy about that, but he didn’t like to think of her so alone.
A chime sounded in the air a minute after heavy turbulence that threatened to throw them both around the cabin.
“That must be our signal,” Andromeda said.
Naasir got up to look out a window. “Yes.” Grabbing the pack lying on another seat, he put it on and snapped on the straps across his chest before pulling on a thin and tight knit cap that would stop his hair from glittering in the sunlight. “Ready?”
She grinned. “Oh, yes.”
The co-pilot exited the cockpit right then. “Two things. First, Illium’s awake and fine—message literally just came in, is probably on your phone, too.” His smile matched their own. “Second, we couldn’t stabilize over the initial drop point. Can you go through the oasis?”
“Yes,” Naasir said, following the bearded male to the back of the plane. “Bad air?”
“This spot is notorious for it—unpredictable air currents, like the sky is telling you to get the fuck out.”
Naasir met Andromeda’s gaze as the co-pilot attached himself to the wall using a strap. “I think we’re in the right place, Andi.”
The co-pilot opened the wide door built for this purpose before she could reply, air screaming into the cabin. Pushing out two packs, he nodded at Naasir. “Good luck!” The wind almost ripped away his words.
Giving him a thumbs-up, Naasir jumped with one final grin in Andromeda’s direction. With a descent this finely calculated, he had to get out at precisely the right altitude for the parachute to function safely. Opening the chute the instant he was clear of the plane, he whooped at the sensation of flight, the air, cold at this altitude, rushing past him.
He heard laughter nearby and when he glanced over, there was Andromeda, snapping out pretty wings patterned like a bird’s. Grinning, he rode the late-afternoon winds all the way to his planned landing spot in the desert landscape, mentally marking the splashes of color that denoted the landing spots of the small chutes that had deployed with their supply packs.