Excerpt of Mission to Mahjundar by Veronica Scott

Taking a swift glance at the small area of greenery and
ruins under discussion, Mike didn’t see any reason not to
let the lady have a few minutes to worship, if doing so
meant that much to her. “Look,” he said, “The horses
could use a break. If visiting this shrine is so
important to Her Highness, why not take advantage of the
pond and the shade for a few minutes?” He touched her
arm. “You weren’t planning on a long stop here, were
you?”

“No, I suppose not. I only want to offer a quick prayer,”
she said. “Will you escort me?”

“I’d be honored,” he said, ignoring Johnny’s smothered
curse.

A few moments later he was walking beside her, guiding
toward the tumbledown ruin set in the midst of seriously
overgrown trees, next to a small pond and a gurgling
stream. The rest of the column had remained behind, on
the fringe of the oasis, per Shalira’s request.

He felt a cool breeze, the first one of the day.

Shalira stumbled over an exposed tree root and he cursed
himself for inattention even as he kept her upright. “I’m
sorry, I’m not a very good guide. You’d probably have
been better off with Saium.”

“I wanted you to see this,” she said. “No apologies
needed.”

“Why? Why did you want me to come here in particular?”

“I think you don’t really want to be on our planet, nor
riding along with me in a slow caravan. I’ve heard you
didn’t like the crowded capital or the palace,” she said.
“I was hoping this place might give you a different idea
of Mahjundar, to take with you, when you leave.” Her lips
curved in a mischievous smile. “And I liked the idea of a
few moments alone, out of the saddle. Do you object?”

“Not at all. I apologize if I’ve been taking my impatient
mood out on you. Nothing personal, Your Highness.” He
helped her climb a few crumbling stairs and they stepped
into a pavilion, open to the sky. Lush grass grew up
between the cracked flagstones and flowering vines wound
around the pillars. “It’s quite beautiful. Would you like
me to step aside while you worship?”

“Very kind of you. I need to be standing in the exact
center, please.”

He led her to the round mosaic in the middle of the
platform, colors still bright. As they stepped onto the
slightly upraised pattern, there was a sudden trill of
musical notes and a brightly colored creature fluttered
around his head. Automatically he recoiled, free hand
going to his gun.

No doubt feeling him tense, Shalira crowded closer. “What
is it? What’s wrong?”

“Are we likely to be in any danger from a bird-butterfly
kind of thing?” Focusing on the tiny, brilliantly-hued
creature as it fluttered around him, Mike felt a little
silly. But there were deadly predators on other worlds
that seemed just as harmless at first glance and it
wasn’t his nature to take chances.
“I’m sorry, a what?” Her forehead wrinkled as she puzzled
over the term he’d used in Basic.

“I don’t know what to call it in your language. They
weren’t mentioned in our briefing. Some kind of flying
warbler?” The creature set down on his shoulder for an
instant, fuzzy antennae vibrating, and then launched
itself into the air with another trill of bell-like notes
that seemed too loud to be coming from such a tiny being.

“A myrdima of Pavmiraia! Do you really see such a
marvel?” She turned her head left to right. “I thought I
heard music.”

“It’s flown off now, to the trees. It was pink and purple
and red, with furry white antenna. About the size of your
fist.”

“We’d be blessed indeed, to be serenaded by Pavmiraia’s
songbird. None has been seen in this area of Mahjundar
for centuries. They withdraw, as the old gods withdraw,
because the people’s faith wanes.” She shook her hand
free of his, not rudely. Arms outstretched, she twirled,
dancing, humming under her breath. She made graceful hand
movements in time to her tune as she swirled. Pausing for
a moment, she said, “I feel so free here, momentary
though the sensation may be. I haven’t felt so
unencumbered since I was ten and my world fell apart.”

Not knowing what to say to her personal revelation, but
feeling pleased she was happy, Mike leaned on the nearest
pillar, scanning the ground for snakes or any other
menace. He hoped Vreely would let Shalira enjoy her brief
excursion for a bit longer. The man had been impatience
personified since they’d left the capital city.

“Uh oh, look out, the whatever-you-called-it is back,
with a friend,” he said. “Stand still and maybe it’ll
land on your hand.”

She closed her eyes and extended one hand, giggling a
moment later as the little creature settled on her
outstretched fingertips. “That tickles.”

“They have tiny, fuzzy feet,” he told her. “Gave me
goosebumps.”

A green-and-blue companion followed suit, touching down
on her other hand. Shalira began to sing in a lovely,
high soprano and after a moment the myrdima joined in
with their crystalline three notes. Mike thought he’d
never heard anything so beautiful, on any world. As
Shalira continued to sing, in a language he didn’t
understand, more of the tiny warblers arrived, in a
rainbow of colors, each adding its own three notes to the
performance. They placed themselves on the princess’s
hair like jeweled ornaments, and more hovered around her
in a cloud. Entranced, Mike thought there must be several
hundred in all. A few even floated over to where he
stood, although none landed on him. The colors
ornamenting the wings shone in the sunshine, particularly
vibrant against the drab, dusty landscape.

If they’re waiting for me to sing, they’ve got nothing
but disappointment coming. He bit his lip, not wanting to
make a sound that might interfere with Shalira’s
serenade. He wished there was a way to record the scene,
or to somehow share it with the princess, who would never
know what a beautiful picture she and the magical
creatures made. He locked the vision away in his own
memory, as one of the most special moments of his life,
an unexpected grace note in the midst of a tense and
frustrating mission.