by Vi Voxley
“Do you want him to?” Brocke asked.
Cora wasn’t prepared for the question, but the answer came as naturally as breathing.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, of course I do. I mean… you saw her.”
“Everyone looks like that when they’re faced with me,” Brocke said, regarding her seriously.
Cora saw something resembling fear in his eyes and wondered if it was the first time that emotion took a hold in the warlord.
“I didn’t want you to hear that,” Brocke said, and his voice told her the matter had been on his mind far longer than it took for them to walk from Ashby’s home. “About Gomor. The guardian there, that is not the part of me I wanted to show you.”
“I’m glad you did,” Cora said, seeing the way Brocke’s blue eyes widened in surprise. “I really am. I know you think I’m horrified, and perhaps I am, at least for Ashby’s sake, but I understand. The people in there – if they’re anything like Condor, it’s the right place for them. As long as you are watching them, I believe we are safe.”
There was an incredibly deep emotion in Brocke’s eyes as he leaned in to kiss her. It was not a kiss of passion, not even one of love. More like a sealed promise to keep her safe, gratitude for not condemning him for what he did.
“Just please ask your father to show mercy,” Cora said when they pulled back from each other. “As bad as she is, I don’t think Ashby deserves to go to Gomor.”
“She helped him,” Brocke pointed out as the bike’s engine roared to life. “Everything that ever stopped you from finding Condor, it was her. All the deaths are as much on her conscience as they are on the killers’.”
“I know,” Cora said, watching the warlord mount the bike and wait for her. “I’m not telling you or the chieftain what to do. I only think she’s an idiot, not evil like Condor. I don’t know about you, but I believe there’s a difference.”
Brocke watched her, his blue eyes solemn, and Cora didn’t turn away. She didn’t know why she was pleading for Ashby when the priestess had betrayed her, but it felt like something Cora needed to do for herself.
She wasn’t like Ashby, never would be.
“Alright,” Brocke promised, even if Cora could sense his reluctance. “I will relay your words to the chieftain, exactly as you said them. The rest is up to him.”
“That’s good enough for me,” Cora said, taking her seat behind him.
It was funny how she’d gotten used to the speeder after the long, perilous rides.
Still don’t like them though.
“The place we’re going to go now…” Brocke said when the bike lifted off the ground. “It’s the home of all the idiots and all the evil, and most of the inhabitants are both.”
As the speeder took them away from Eborat unchallenged, Cora had to wonder if she’d done the right thing by going along.
* * *
Her suspicion was further confirmed when Cora saw the thing Brocke called a “gate”.
It was nothing like a gate. It was a drop to her death, so deep Cora couldn’t see the bottom. Yet Brocke insisted it was the absolute safest way into Olyra, which was why he’d picked it. No regular traps he’d described to her, no monsters guarding the entrance.
After all the scary stories, Cora had wholeheartedly approved the gate Brocke suggested. She didn’t think she was in her best form when it came to dodging spears and fighting off Haunters.
“You have got to be kidding me,” was the phrase that popped to Cora’s mind when she saw the chasm.
They weren’t very far from Eborat, but a little off from their target. Cora appreciated the fact Brocke didn’t make her take one of the more dangerous paths with him, but she knew it was once again costing them time.
Time that some of the kidnapped people didn’t have. Cora was thinking about them more and more, hoping that her efforts had brought them closer to helping the half-breeds.
The chasm in front of her was basically nothing more than the ancient remains of a landslide. It had created a terrifying crater right on the edge of the dreaded Corgan forests. And Brocke was telling her they were supposed to walk over it. On thin air.
“There is a path,” Brocke said. “I know where it is, and I know you can’t make it out. The booster I gave you should help, but it’s wearing off. All the more reason for us to hurry. Trust me.”
“I do,” Cora said, her voice shaking a little. “But this is a little much. I don’t see it, I really can’t.”
“That’s the point of this gate,” Brocke explained. “It’s a leap of faith.”
“Good god, that is even worse,” Cora said, although it did calm her a little. “You don’t think it’s a little bit ironic? That we’re crossing a bridge of faith to get to a priest.”
Judging by Brocke’s expression, he didn’t.
Refusing to say anything further and reminding herself of the innocent lives at stake, Cora raised her hand to take Brocke’s. The warlord gave her an encouraging smile and squeezed her hand a little. With slow steps, he took them both over the chasm.
Cora barely dared to look down, but there was honestly nothing else to see. She needed to watch where she was going, even if Brocke was leading her, so Cora had no choice but to face the trial. When the guardian turned in a place that seemed as empty to her as the rest of it, Cora’s heart nearly stopped.
She could feel another reaffirming squeeze and steeled herself. Cora couldn’t explain it rationally, but she no longer believed anything bad could happen to her when she was with Brocke.
They made it across, and the world was instantly dark around them. Looking behind, Cora saw the chasm they’d just crossed. From there, the path went below the surface of Gaiya, and every step made her feel more unwelcome than ever before.
Brocke had warned her several times, but only when Cora first laid her eyes on Olyra did she fully understand.
If looks could kill, she mused, seeing the way eyes followed her every move.
Cora realized without a shadow of doubt that the only reason she was still alive was because of Brocke. The warlord’s arm was now firmly around her, showing everyone she was under his protection.
It was dark down there, very dark, but the booster Cora had taken was still helping. If not to make her pass for a Corgan, at least to see in the dimness.
“Don’t stop,” Brocke warned her quietly. “No matter what.”
Cora wasn’t going to say she had no intention of stopping. Or that she would have liked nothing more than to walk right out of that ghastly place. She had never seen a place that seemed to literally pull the life force out of her.
There was something about the cramped, tight tunnels they walked through that made everything so much worse. The floors were old, rusted metal, and there were parts of the maze that were so badly cared for Cora didn’t know how it hadn’t collapsed already.
With every step she took, escape seemed less likely. As they headed farther from the gate, Cora couldn’t imagine ever getting back. She tried to force herself not to think like that, but it was very difficult when she had never felt so self-conscious before. It seemed they could almost smell the Terran on her. Her hand went on her stomach by instinct.
She kept thinking someone would say it out loud eventually, but no one dared to stop Brocke. Cora could see a few itching to, though.
When the door of a pod that looked identical to a thousand ones they’d passed by slid shut after them, Cora realized she’d been holding her breath the whole time. She finally dared to let it out, watching an old warrior rise to his feet.
There was almost nothing in the small room, but Brocke’s impressive bulk filled about half of it.
The old warrior turned the sharp gaze of his eyes right on Brocke.
“Now you’ve done it,” he gargled. “You’ve killed me, boy. Bringing a Terran here –”
“Uncle,” Brocke cut in. “I didn’t come to ask for your help. I came to tell you that I will kill two things tonight. One is Condor. The ot
her is Olyra. You can either die with this doomed place, or you can protect her and regain your honor.”
The old man laughed, but Cora could see a glint of emotion in his deep blue eyes.
“Honor,” he said. “Since Condor came –”
“Yes or no?”
The old warrior glared as voices rose outside. Cora winced when running footsteps went by them, like a lot of people were rushing in one direction right past them. She wondered what was going on, but there honestly weren’t that many options.
Condor had to be close by.
“Boy, I can’t help you,” the old man said, sighing. “Condor is about to begin his showing. And whether you like it or not, he has been dragging you in all along. He knew you’d come, you see. Perhaps he even knew you’d bring the girl. You’ve been on the performer list since the start.”
“I don’t plan to play any of Condor’s games,” Brocke said.
“You don’t have a choice,” the old warrior replied, and the world went upside down.
Cora screamed when Brocke’s uncle knocked her against a wall with surprising strength. It was nowhere near the shock of finding it was a revolving door. She and the old man were spun to the other side, while Brocke was left behind. Cora could hear him roar, saw the blades of his swords cut through the door, but she was already being dragged away by unknown hands.
The old warrior watched it unfold. There was a deep sadness in his eyes as he stood, walking slowly away from where Brocke was about to break through. Cora thought it was a lousy comfort to know that Brocke was going to kill him the second he got his hands on his uncle.
“I’m sorry,” she could hear the man say.
“Sorry,” Cora yelled back at him as Condor’s priests pulled her out of the room she’d ended up in. “Do you have any idea what they’ll do to me? You traitorous scumbag –”
The old man’s answer was the last Cora heard of him.
“I do. I tried to tell the boy. There is no choice for anyone in Olyra.”
The priests dragged her, kicking and screaming, away from Brocke. The door between the two rooms was apparently made of something better than most walkways if it managed to delay the warlord. Cora had seen Corgan swords cut through space ships.
The corridors and long tunnels were completely different now when Brocke was no longer by her side. It wasn’t the mindless hate Cora had expected, however.
It resembled pity and disgust more closely. The people who pushed her forward to a large open area looked at her like she was an animal, far below their dignity to mention.
When Cora was dragged to the arena, her mouth dropped open.
Brocke hadn’t told her much about where they had come, other than that Komol – the area of Olyra they ventured into - was an ancient fighting ground, but he’d given the impression it hadn’t been used in ages.
The large, square-shaped arena before Cora’s eyes had definitely seen battles. Very recently. She could see corpses, cut open like they were exhibits in the worst show imaginable. It took Cora a long, horrified moment to realize that was exactly what was going on.
She didn’t know much about Corgan physiology, but Cora didn’t need that to guess all the dead ones were half-breeds. Some looked like they’d died fighting, and the way the bodies were positioned left her no doubt.
Condor was proving his point, literally. By making the half-breeds fight Corgans.
On the other side of the arena, a man rose from a seat overlooking Komol. Bald, tall, and thin, with eyes full of madness, Cora had no doubt she’d found the man she had been looking for.
Seeing a twisted smile spread on the priest’s face, it was also clear that he had found her.
“Good people of Olyra,” Condor barked. “Our guest of honor has arrived. Come here, girl. I will give you the best seat in the house so you could see the half-breed Guardian of Gomor die at last.”
Chapter Eighteen
Cora
Well, fuck. This is bad, isn’t it? This is really bad.
It wasn’t the most astute tactical observation, but Cora was honestly still too stunned by everything that was going on. The priests by her side didn’t have to push hard anymore as she walked on her own, knowing she had no choice in the matter.
Cora felt like ever since they’d set foot in Olyra, the trap had been closing around her and Brocke.
The last she’d seen of the warlord was his blades cutting through the door separating them. Cora imagined she could still hear Brocke’s furious roars, the way the guardian tore at the metal, breaking it down by almost sheer force of will alone.
It was impossible to hear anything like that in Komol, though. The mass of people was buzzing around her, looking at Cora like she was one of the exhibits in the arena already.
She was absolutely sure she was about to be one as soon as Condor finished whatever sick game he was playing.
Cora reached the priest, alone and unarmed. She had been relieved of her blaster along the way, naturally. So it was pretty much the opposite of what Brocke had wanted for her.
As she stared down their enemy, Cora found that her heart ached more for Brocke than herself. Condor bore no particular hate towards her; she was nothing but the vessel of Brocke’s child. Her hands closed around her belly instinctively, remembering the horrors the guardian had hinted at.
Condor smiled, beckoning Cora closer.
He looked every bit the madman he was. A tall, thin man, like Brocke had said, with a powerful voice and eyes that seemed to burn in his head. Only as soon as Cora looked into them, she knew that Brocke had been right in everything he’d told Ashby.
Condor was afraid of Brocke, deadly afraid, and that was the reason for all of the mayhem around them.
“Lieutenant Frey,” the priest said, cutting into her line of thought. “It’s good that you’ve come. Voluntarily, I might add. To Olyra.”
He laughed, and the entire crazy population of the underground network laughed with him. Cora felt nothing but disgust for them, but she also knew they were right. She was trapped, she had stepped into this on her own, and her only hope of escaping was Brocke. As powerful as the guardian was, Cora wasn’t so sure it was enough all of a sudden.
Still, she refused to give Condor that satisfaction as the priest led her to the platform he was observing his massacre from.
“We came here to stop you,” she said defiantly. “And we will.”
Condor was surprisingly unfazed by that, smiling to her in a way that made Cora think she had underestimated him in the end.
“We,” the priest repeated as new fighters were entering the arena. “I’m afraid there is nothing you can do, Terran. I know the Guardian is after me, and he can come now that you’ve provided me with all the protection I need. But don’t imagine there is a way out of here for you.”
Cora would have responded with something snappy, but her mouth was open in horror.
Two warriors entered the arena. One was clearly larger than the other, more powerful in all the ways that mattered. He resembled Brocke a little, but all Corgan warriors looked similar at times with their flashing blue eyes and powerful forms. The smaller man had only a few of the telltale tattoos that told of enhancements to his body, and his eyes were not nearly as bright.
He hasn’t trained for too long, Cora caught herself thinking, the investigator in her catching the hints easily enough.
The smaller warrior showed no fear facing the gargantuan opponent, but Cora screamed when he was split open with almost no effort by the giant a moment later. She wasn’t the only one, but all the other voices cheered.
“Weak!” the victorious warrior roared, throwing the body of the fallen on the ground near the exposed corpses. “This is my ninth fight of the day, and not one of the half-breeds has managed to even strike me once! We should pity them, brothers and sisters. The Terran blood in them is making them like this, but with Condor’s lead, we will carve that threat to us right out of them!”
Again, Cora felt
her hands going around her belly and saw Condor observe her with a crooked smile.
“So this is the answer to everything,” she spat. “You are trying to convince Olyra and the Corgans that there is some inherent weakness in half-breeds, that they’re somehow a threat to Corgans.”
“There is,” Condor snarled. “You will see soon. Even the Guardian is a half-breed in the end. Out of his precious Gomor, he is not so powerful. Patience, Terran. He will face Nargh like all the others, and he will die, proving me ultimately right. If even the chieftain’s son can fall, I need to say no more.”
“Everyone can lose,” Cora yelled at him, but Condor’s priests barred her way before she could punch him. “That is the point, you sick fuck. This has nothing to do with being a half-breed, and you know it. Maybe the people here are dumb enough to buy this, but I know better. The guy you just killed? That was no match. He has been a warrior for what, a year, if that? And that brute is clearly an experienced murderer. What other resolution could there be?”
Condor looked at her with eyes that said he wasn’t really listening. Cora watched – breathing heavily – at the way he regarded her like he didn’t speak the same language. She was beginning to think the priest really had lost his mind, but then Condor spoke again.
“I knew he would come,” he said with a cruel grin. “The Guardian thinks he’s so clever. I know he let me out of Gomor, I am not an idiot. But it never occurred to him that I let him get so close to me? Every step of the way, I’ve been leading him here.“
“All these people… Of course Brocke needed to come. The only thing I couldn’t have prepared for was you, and I have to say, Brocke has defeated himself better than I ever could have.”
He walked right past the guards and caught Cora’s hand that came up to hit him as hard as she could. For all his frailty, Condor was stronger than he looked, and now that Cora was so close to him, she could see he was armed as well.