by Viki Storm
Footsteps are coming down the hall. Fast. Light? Not the thick polymer boots of the hulking aliens who have invaded this planet.
I stand firm, straighten my shoulders, draw my head up toward the ceiling. If it is an assassin, then let them slay me as I stand looking them in the eye.
For what feels like the longest seconds of my life, I wait for them to approach.
And when they do, my heart fills with joy.
“Stelly!” I cry. “I thought you evacuated.” She was supposed to be on one of the ships yesterday.
“I couldn’t go,” she says. “This is my home. I don’t want to start over on some other planet. And more importantly, I couldn’t leave after those terrible things I said.” Her eyes are filling with tears, and she wipes them away.
“It is forgotten,” I say. “I have thought much about what you said. There is some truth to it. And you are not the only one to think those things.”
“Just the only one terrible enough to say them.”
“The only one brave enough to say them,” I reassure her. “You have nothing to apologize for, but if you wish to atone, I won’t stop you. As you can see, I need a little help.”
“I came to see you,” Stelly says, “and I heard one of the servants whispering that you’d been taken to the dungeon. I took him by the ear and dragged him into a storage room and threatened to have his tongue cut out unless he told me everything he knew.”
“I hope it was a linen storage room,” I say, “because you make a terrible impression when you’re angry. He probably wet his trousers.”
“He did not,” Stelly said, “but he could have used a handkerchief to wipe his sniveling nose. He told me he overheard that King Vano put you into a cell. I didn’t believe such a thing could happen. I thought Vano actually cared for you. What happened?”
“He does,” I say. “It’s a long story. He thinks there is an assassin in the palace. He’s put me in here for my own protection. How did you get past the guards?” I ask. Vano had his most loyal Zalaryns posted in the corridor.
“I set a fire,” Stelly said. “In the west tunnel. They’ll be back soon, but it got them away long enough for me to sneak in and see you. I can’t believe it. For your own protection? In a dungeon cell? Without a mattress or fur to keep the chill away?”
“He offered me comforts, but I refused in my anger,” I explain. “Can you do something before the guards return?”
“Anything,” she says solemnly.
“Run to the cages,” I say. Then I tell her as quickly as I can about the heartsweed poison and the plan to root out the culprit.
She takes off down the corridor as fast as she arrived. I told her to see if the three kecklets are all still alive. The hag said that the poison kills on the third day.
That was yesterday.
I gave Vano the benefit of the doubt, hoping that he was right and that we had the poisoner behind bars. But if all three kecklets are still alive, I’m having Stelly get me out of here, along with Stine, Yar and the Astronomer.
It’s hard to tell how long she’s been gone. It feels like forever. Just when I’ve convinced myself that she’s been apprehended by the guards and taken to a cell of her own, I hear those light, fast footsteps racing down the hall again.
“What of them?” I say. Whatever small measure of patience I had is now gone.
“Alive,” she pants. “All of them. The reddish spotted one, the yellow mangy one and the black one with the white paws.”
My stomach sinks at the news. It is the confirmation of so many bad things. That the poisoner is still at large in the palace. That three of my advisers have been unjustly jailed.
That Vano was wrong.
That most of all hurts. It hurts more than the knowledge that someone is out there with a vial of heartsweed ready to pour it down my throat.
Unless… A terrible thought comes back into my mind. Perhaps Vano did not actually think that a poisoner was after me but used the old hag’s words about the heartsweed to make me paranoid and fearful, so I would be more likely to go along with the evacuations. I can’t believe that about him. It feels wrong. But maybe I’m just being soft-hearted again. I’d be a fool not to consider it as a very real possibility. What did my father always say? Hot heads and soft hearts ruin civilizations.
And I bonded myself to the hottest head of them all.
But at least one thing is clear: Stelly’s news of the kecklets has solidified my resolve, made my next actions clear.
“Come on,” I say to her. “We’re getting out of here.”
I am about to turn right down the dungeon corridor that will take me to Bryn’s cell when I hesitate for just a heartbeat and turn left. Toward the kecklet cages. I need to check the creatures one more time. The poison should have worked by now. I am no expert on the physiology of the beasts on this planet, so I hold out hope that there is some quirk of the digestive system that is making the heartsweed work so slowly.
My worst fear is that the creatures are immune to heartsweed. I did not think of this beforehand, but I needed a control subject. I curse my own stupidity for not thinking of that. I tell myself that I’m a warrior, not a chemist, but warriors must be skilled tacticians and conceive of every possible outcome. This is such a foolish mistake—especially when the stakes are so high.
Then again, I have a rich history of making stupid mistakes when the stakes are high.
If I hadn’t screwed up my last mission so badly, I wouldn’t be here on this freezing planet performing this thankless task.
I hear incessant yelps as I approach. My mind is playing tricks on me, making me think I only hear two of those creatures making noise. But as the furry little things come into view, I see that all three are alive and well.
“Void fuckers,” I say. I kick the bars of one of the cages, and the stupid beast doesn’t even have the good sense to shirk back. It just stares at me with its happily vacant eyes and its greedy smile.
I’ve had enough. I was going to talk to Bryn, apologize and hope she would agree to keep the three suspects imprisoned for just a day or two longer.
Now? Now I don’t know what’s going on, but if those damned beasts are still alive, then maybe I was wrong about the poisoner.
I thought I could trust my instincts, my senses. When Stine was around her before, I could taste his duplicity, an aura of deceit. When we visited the Astronomer, there was a pall of death in his chambers and derisive atmosphere. And that bodyguard of hers, I can feel the violence beneath his surface. He is a killer if there ever was one, and for a split second I could smell his pure disdain for Bryn.
Probably this whole thing is in my head.
In my desire to protect my mate, I’m seeing threats everywhere. Combined with the guilt over my last failed mission, I’m overreacting to the slightest provocation, lest I be seen as weak or hesitant in the eyes of my fellow Zalaryns. In the eyes of myself. Show no mercy, show no compassion, strike first or be the fool who weathers the first blow.
I was wrong. Wrong about everything.
I’m going down to get her out. To take her into my arms and ask forgiveness. Beg her if that’s what it takes. I feel our bond is still true, though I’m sure my rash actions have weakened it. I’ll do whatever it takes to nurture our bond, make it stronger than ever.
If only she’ll let me.
I turn away from the cages, sick of this dank underground space.
“Captain!” It’s Bantokk. He looks worried. My guts sink as terrible possibilities swirl around my hot head.
“What is it?” I say. “Is Bryn alright?”
“She should be,” he says. “She’s got two of our biggest bastards posted in the corridor.”
“Then what is it?” I ask. Of course this wasn’t going to be an easy task. Evacuate the planet. Prepare for the Zalaryn colonists’ arrival. And make sure that everything that can go wrong does, indeed, go wrong.
“The surveillance drone you ordered,” he says. I notice for t
he first time that he has a sheaf of papers in his hands. This must be important if he felt the need to print out a record, rather than just displaying the information on his comm-panel.
“Yes?” I say. I feel a knot in my stomach. A familiar feeling of dread. There’s a saying that the Zalaryn feels no fear, but we all know that’s a load of rubbish. Only the brain-dead feel no fear. Zalaryns feel it as much as any living creature—we just hide it better.
“We found the Rulmek ship,” Bantokk says. “It’s been dormant lately, probably fearing our presence on the planet. But when it took those cattle the other night, we got a ping from their sat-nav system.”
“Where are they?” I ask.
“Close,” he says.
“I already guessed that,” I say. “How close?”
“Two days’ travel,” he says. “Once I found the ship, I had Orlon try and get into their navigation system. He couldn’t get into it, but he was able to read and copy the data as it was routed throughout their network. They’re headed for Lekyo Prime.”
“Is that the data?” I say, pointing to the papers clutched in his fist.
“Yes,” he says, handing them to me. I scan the document, but most of it is nonsensical strings of numbers and characters. “They’re set to land in the capital. Apparently they want to try their hand at cattle farming. This particular band of Rulmek, they aren’t content to siphon off a few cows’ blood here or there. They want a steadier supply. The blood delicacies are becoming popular with more races, and they are no longer afraid of glutting the market.”
“And they are going to wipe out all of the inhabitants, take the land and the livestock, and set up shop here?” I ask.
“We were able to partially decode their missile data, and yes, before landing there are three separate waves of bombings scheduled to take place. Then they will descend and take any female of breeding age as pleasure slaves. Every male Rulmek has been given the order to find a female and a dwelling and claim it for his own. Finders keepers.”
“What can we do?” I ask. “Meet them in open aerial combat? Ambush them on the ground? What do you suggest?”
“Orlon had an idea to reroute their coordinates. There’s a Kraxx settlement in the Grelmo Sector. Point them in that direction with a lock on their nav system so they can’t change it. Hopefully the fell creatures will kill each other.”
“Kraxx in the Grelmo Sector?” I ask. “Didn’t we exterminate the Kraxx at the battle of the Green Ghosts?”
“The Kraxx are like blattoids. For every one you kill, there’s three more hiding in the dark. Orlon says he can do it, program their sat-nav to change course, then lock it so they can’t override it.”
“Do it,” I say. “Sooner the better.”
“Problem is…” Bantokk begins.
“Always a problem,” I say.
“He says he can write the code, but one of us needs to get within a two-kilometer distance in order to beam the program into their network.”
“Okay,” I say. “We will discuss this later. Call the squadron leaders to a meeting. I’ll be there in an hour. We’ll figure this out and hopefully have the Rulmek turned around before moonrise.”
“As you command,” Bantokk says.
One hour to get Bryn out of the dungeon cell and convince her not to murder me. A smile comes to my face despite all that’s going on. Because I know that I’ll soon have her in my arms, carrying her upstairs, whispering beautifully filthy things in her ear. And if Orlon’s plan goes through, this business with the Rulmek will be finished.
Then I just have to worry about what to do with the humans on Lekyo Prime, how to work out a solution to keep my Queen and her people safe.
How to prepare this planet for the Zalaryn colonists without causing heartache for the humans.
I turn the corner and don’t see her guards. I posted two of my trusted males, but they are nowhere to be seen.
“Bryn,” I call as I approach her cell. My heart is racing, my stomach hot with worry. There is no answer as I get closer. Please just let her be mad at me. Refusing to speak to me.
But then I see that my worst fear is true.
Worse than the Rulmek. Worse than a vial of heartsweed.
Her cell is unlocked. And she is gone.
The bang of the rock as it crashes into the lock of the dungeon cell is spectacular. Under normal circumstances, the Zalaryn guards would have heard it immediately. But now there is a fire raging in one of the storerooms and the whoosh of flames, the din of evacuation, the commands shouted to servants with buckets of water, blot out all other noise.
“Let’s go,” Stelly says. She is trembling with the fear of what she’s done. She had only meant to set a little fire in a rubbish bin, something to distract everyone while she came to me. Then, another fire in another rubbish bin in the opposite direction to distract everyone while she found a way to bust the lock of my cell.
But like a lot of decent ideas, this has gotten out of hand very quickly, and the consequences might be too much for any gentle soul to bear.
“We need to get Yar and Stine and the Astronomer,” I tell her. Her eyes flick to the rock in her hands. It’s not really a rock, only half a rock and even still more like an ornamental centerpiece. It is split in two, the glittering insides of the quartz polished and on display. But it is big and heavy, and Stelly is already exhausted from getting my cell open. “I’ll do it,” I say. “I’ll get Yar out first, then he can get the others.” It should be no difficult task for Yar to swing the rock and get the other two accused men out of their cells.
They are farther down the twisting corridors of the dungeon. I try to note the turns we take so we will be able to find our way back, but it is difficult. I was never allowed in the lower levels of the palace before, and it’s so dark down here.
I hear Stine first, demanding to be let out, as if he thinks his noble birth means anything to the Zalaryns. “You cannot keep me locked in this cage,” he protests. “My grandfather was Phillius Stine, and his grandfather was on the founding ship!”
“We are here to make amends,” I say. “I cannot begin to express my horror at the brutality of your treatment.”
“This is unacceptable,” Stine is still saying. I can tell that he’s close to his breaking point. For all his cleverness and cunning, nothing in his life had prepared him for the mental fortitude it takes to endure a dungeon cell for this long.
Yar snorts then spits on the ground. “This ain’t brutal, my Queen, more like a vacation. But thank you all the same.” I knew Yar would resent his treatment the least. He is a noble-born man, but he had to rise through ranks relying on his skills and aptitude rather than his birth or his family’s coin.
“Does this mean you have found your assassin?” the Astronomer sneers. I hesitate to give him any information. Maybe he is the assassin, after all. I recall the day I went to his rooms to inquire about the exsanguinated cattle. The pure disgust that dripped off every word he spoke to me, the condescension that was made even worse by his sarcastically courtly words.
“It means I have come to save you before the fire consumes the entire palace,” I say. I bring the rock over my head and smash it down on the lock of Yar’s cell. It seems to do nothing, but I repeat the assault over and over, reminding myself that if Stelly could do it, so could I.
My shoulders are growing weak, and there is a pain when I lift the rock above my head, like a hundred hot needles are burrowing inside the flesh. But I keep going until I hear the scree of the hinges and Yar steps forward. “You did it, girl,” he says. I am exhausted. Stelly must be much stronger than I am. He takes the rock from my limp arms and with one crack releases the lock on the Astronomer’s cell, then Stine’s. Stine stands, looking dazed, but the Astronomer nods his thanks toward me and Yar (though something tells me it was a nod of thanks to my bodyguard and not me) and then disappears down the hall.
“You old fool,” Stine says, “show us the way out of here!” But the Astronomer is gone
, disappeared into the smoke. Stine looks to me, then down the hall after the Astronomer.
“He only cares about his dusty old books and the jars on his shelves,” Yar says. “He’ll be going back to his rooms to salvage his precious work.” Stine considers this for the briefest of moments, then bolts down the corridor after the Astronomer.
Stine, the man who pledged his love for me, the man who would have been my husband and King, leaves me in the fiery dungeon to save his own hide. I am not particularly hurt or surprised, but what is shocking is that this is a severe breach of decorum, and Stine is nothing if not the perfect high-born gentleman.
It is growing hot in here, not just from my exertion, but from the encroaching fire.
“We must get you to safety,” Yar says.
“The flames,” I say. “They’re on both sides.”
“I’m so sorry, Bryn,” Stelly says. “I didn’t know how else to get the guards away.”
“You did alright, girl,” Yar says to her. “What you can do now is head down this passage.” He touches a spot on the bricks in front of us and a door opens. I would have never guessed that this was a doorway, the edges of the door blending seamlessly into the masonry. “Go this way and get more servants with buckets of water. Lead them back through this exact passage. I’ll get the Queen to safety.”
Stelly looks at me, hesitant to leave, but I give her a nod and she goes, eager to quell the flames started by her own hand.
“Thank you,” I say to Yar. He’s always been tasked with protecting me but has never needed to until now.
“You’re welcome,” he says. “You want me to get that big red alien asshole who locked you up?” He smiles, pure malice in his eyes. His teeth look sharper somehow, like he’s become more beast than man. I’m startled by the question. He wants to go ‘get’ Vano? I know what ‘get’ means to a man like Yar. It means revenge, it means death—slow and luxurious. He thinks I want him to get Vano? The thought never even crossed my mind.
As mad as I was, as much as I cursed Vano’s name and his planet and his entire race, I never doubted for a second that what he did was out of love and a desire to keep me safe from the poisoner. Vano is a bit barbaric, but I am his mate, and the males of his race will stop at nothing, spare no one’s feelings, go to any extreme measure, in order to protect his mate.