Devolose
Page 21
We thump our fists on our chests and nod to each other—pre-fight etiquette. The opening horns sound and I’m off running.
In a normal arena we‘d immediately square off, perhaps a few yards apart, and after a bit of posturing for the crowd, one of us would charge the other. The fighting would begin without delay at the beginning of the match. Well, this isn’t like any match I’ve ever been in, and I’m hereby changing the rules.
In my imagination I’ve already routed my steps, all I have to do is follow the plan I devised. I run to my right, toward a foliage-heavy area halfway up the stony hill. I’ll be lighter on my feet than the goliath I’m fighting. I’ll pick my way up the stones like a gazelle, and he’ll be lead-footed and start a mini avalanche. At least that’s my hope.
He’s heavy and less agile than I am, but he scrambles up the hill at breakneck speed behind me. I haven't gained the slightest advantage. My next planned maneuver is to speed toward the cliff edge in the hope he’ll follow so fast that he won’t be able to slow his forward momentum when I dart to the right at the last moment. Hopefully, he’ll fall onto the strategically-placed upward-pointing lances waiting at the bottom.
I approach the edge, then zag right, but he turns on a dime and is now so close on my heels I hear his heavy breathing only a few steps behind me.
The easy climb is behind me; now it's so steep every foothold is going to be hard-fought. I have to use my hands, grasping thorny bushes to pull myself up with every step. My palms are bleeding, stinging with pain. I can hear him gaining on me. His superior strength and longer reach give him an advantage over me.
His big hand swipes at me, but I feint right then move left, narrowly avoiding his grasp. Suddenly I’m at the peak of the fabricated mountain. The rock cliff is a sheer drop down from the top; no handholds, no escape in this direction. I’ll have to turn around and try to avoid him on my descent. I’ve made a huge tactical error—I’ve underestimated my opponent.
“No one can see us through the foliage,” my opponent calls to me. “Let me win. Then I’ll own you and set you free. You don’t have to be injured. Just pretend to fight to keep up the show, but let me win. That way you won’t get hurt.”
I have no idea what game he’s playing, but the big bastard is a damn liar. Why would he bargain with me? It certainly appears Vex has all the advantages. There couldn’t be a person in the stands who thinks I have a chance—I’m even losing hope.
Why would he need to bargain with me? Is he angling to get my compliance so he can arrange an even more spectacular kill in full view of the spectators? Maybe garner extra rations from the blue-skinned aristocrat who controls his collar?
“Fuck you!” I scream and scramble down the incline toward where I started, far enough to his right to escape his grasp. Back on level ground, I run toward the swinging swords. I realize I’m not faster than my opponent, not even more agile, but I still wonder if I can outsmart him.
If I can draw him in, then change direction as swiftly as possible, I can trick him into pursuing me right into the deadly swords. If I time it perfectly, and I do mean perfectly, he might run directly into a lethal blade. Which would not only serve the lying bastard right, but it would deny Daneur Khour possession of an additional gladiator as part of the claiming prize.
All plans go completely awry when the mechanism chooses this exact moment to change tempo. The dangerous blades speed up, and my perfectly-timed lunge becomes a deadly move for me instead of my opponent. I’m running so fast and so hard I can’t change directions in time. I realize I’m a moment from my own death.
I try veering right, but can’t because I’ll get sliced by the adjoining blade. I decide to pull back instead of charging forward. My brain wants to comply, but my body can’t respond fast enough. I try to step backward and move to the left at the same time. I accomplish neither.
Vex’s beefy hand reaches out and pulls me toward him, away from the deadly blade, but not quick enough to avoid the sharp scimitar. I observe in horror as the blade slices up from below, catching my right arm just beneath the elbow and cutting through flesh and bone as though it was butter. The last thing I’m aware of is my arm dropping in the dirt with a wet thud.
~,~
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Glossary
Ahma—mother
Arnita—card game
Drack—the perfect all-purpose expletive. It’s a noun, it’s a verb, it’s an adjective.
Fierto—foot
HIPPA—American law prohibiting disclosing personal medical information
Hoara—hour
Ince—inch
mille—mile
Minima—minute
Modicum—second
Lunar cycle—month
Mronck—six-legged horse-like animal
Hishra—hay
Sumra—noodle porridge
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Sextus Sneak Peek
Drayke Sneak Peek
Glossary
Devolose: Book Four in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series by Alana Khan
P.O. Box 18393, Golden, CO 80402
www. Alanakhan.com
© 2019 Alana Khan
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact: alanakhanauthor@gmail.com
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Cover by Elle Arden