Maverick dommer's Arc

Chapter 5 of 8

The crowd walked Maverick and Mylonin out of the village, up a stone trail, to the edge of a great waterfall. Water crashed into a dark lake far below. Three elders waited on the wet ledge. The oldest held out a scrap of woven cloth, tiny and see-through, marked with a braided symbol. "You are not like us," the elder said to Maverick. "You carry a gender. Our people carry none. We do not know what such a mate brings." Mylonin stepped forward, but the elder raised a hand. "His body is strong. His kind is unknown. If he wishes to stay bonded, he must prove he is worthy to exist here. He must take the plunge and rise from the lake alive." The elder pressed the ceremonial garb into Maverick's lower hand. "Wear the rite cloth. The falls will judge you." Maverick looked at the drop. The lake below churned white where the water struck. He had fought a beast with a wooden club and won. But this was different. This was their law, and Mylonin's people all watched. Mylonin touched his arm. Its teal fingers trembled. "The roots say the water runs deep and cold," it whispered. "Many have not risen. You do not have to." "I built a home for a family," Maverick said. "I will not lose you to a cliff." He set down his other belongings. The tiny rite garb barely fit his frame, but he tied it and stepped to the edge. Four muscular arms spread wide. He filled his chest with air and jumped. He fell fast. The wind tore at him. He hit the lake, and the cold swallowed him whole. Darkness pulled him down. He clawed the water with all four arms, kicking hard against the weight. His lungs burned. He fixed his mind on Mylonin's face and dragged himself up. He broke the surface and gasped. The crowd on the ledge went silent, then began to stamp their feet in a slow beat. Mylonin scrambled down the rocks to the shore and pulled him from the shallows. Maverick coughed water and lay in the mud, alive. The oldest elder climbed down last. It studied the four-armed giant sprawled on the bank. "The falls kept you," the elder said. "You may stay bonded." Then its face hardened. "But a bond is not a bloodline. Your kind and ours have never made young together. Mylonin carries no gender and no womb. If you two cannot bear an heir, this bond ends with you. That, the village will not honor." Maverick sat up, dripping and cold. He had survived the water and won the right to stay. But the elder's words landed heavier than the fall. He had a mate now, sealed by law. He still had no path to the heir he crossed the stars to make.