by Vi Voxley
That was where the people of Poural were hiding. She could see enemy ships and fighters bombarding the figure, but so far that had resulted in little more than some rocks bouncing down its sides.
Of course, the rocks looked little until she saw them land and crush entire ships.
This is so over my pay grade, she thought, knowing the pilot more likely echoed her sentiments.
Zoey looked around, searching for a place to land. It had to be visible and it had to give her initial cover. She instantly ruled out any places where she saw Daegon's warriors. They would have snatched her before she ever reached the enemy.
It wouldn't be long until Daegon figured out what she was up to.
Now or never.
"Land there," she ordered, preparing for the protests to come.
"Are you insane?" the pilot demanded, right on cue. "It's right in the middle of those damned Yemalan. Do you want us both to die?"
"Land," Zoey ordered. "And leave. You don't have to deal with me ever again."
The pilot was still suspicious, clearly reluctant to go where she was pointing. The place she'd chosen was high up on the temple, nothing more than a little balcony above one of the swords. But it had Yemalan guards and no Corgans nearby. It fit.
"He will kill me if I leave you here," the pilot said.
Zoey had expected that.
"Probably," she allowed, and the Yemalan glove flared to life in her hand. "The only thing is, I will do worse if you don't put this thing down, now."
At a later time, Zoey thought as the fighter aimed for the place she'd chosen. I really have to bring this up with the Union. It's amazing how you can speed up negotiations if you're holding a deadly weapon. I wonder if anyone's considered that?
"Open the doors," she ordered when the ship touched down on the temple.
They were up so high she seriously hoped the thin air wouldn't knock her out before she got any words out. Not to mention she needed the Yemalan to hear her.
"And stay away from the bad man until I'm back," she called to the pilot over the wind rushing in her ears as the doors slid open.
"What if you don't –?" the man yelled.
Thanks for the "good luck", I suppose.
"There is no saving you then," Zoey replied with a grin and stepped out of the fighter.
It took off almost immediately. She wondered what it was about her that made ships so intent on leaveing her behind as fast as they could. This time, she blamed the approaching Yemalan unit that made the whole affair pointedly less funny.
She waited until she judged them to be within hearing range. The place she'd chosen was so windy Zoey had to hold on to a ledge not to let a gust of wind blow her over the edge.
The Yemalan charged at her, their shrill screaming audible even over the wind.
"The girl," Zoey called to them as loudly as she could, in their language. "I'm the girl."
She'd given a fair bit of thought to how she should call herself, eventually opting for that one. It was how Arboc kept referring to her, after all.
She resisted going for the old-fashioned "Take me to your leader". They would figure that out themselves.
And true enough, it stopped the raiders. They exchanged quick glances and gave her a closer look. Zoey waited, her heart thudding in her chest.
No turning back now.
Then the Yemalan started hoarding her to the temple. Zoey went along, relieved to be out of the punishing wind and glad that her plan had worked so far. She tried to hide the glove as well as she could, guessing the soldiers wouldn't appreciate her having it.
She regretted going indoors the second the temple welcomed her and the screams buried her.
Chapter Seventeen
Daegon
Daegon watched the fighter with Zoey aboard take off.
He hoped that this time, she would listen to him and stay away. The warlord ordered his men to keep an eye on the little Terran and to report to him when she moved.
Then he set out for The Chieftain.
News had traveled fast. From every corner of the planet, information was suddenly pouring in. Like a magnet, the gigantic temple was bringing everyone together – not only Daegon's forces, but the enemies' as well. Seeing that their plan had been discovered, there was no need for pretense.
He gritted his teeth, boarding the quickest fighter he could find and feeling it lift up. There was no end to Arboc's treachery. No wonder he hadn't found any allies. The other clan lords might have balked and complained about Nadar's policies, but the chieftain wasn't trying to commit murders among his own people.
Daegon didn't want to know what the chieftain would do to Arboc if he could reach him. He saw little point in sending him the news before the battle was over, knowing that Nadar would set out immediately. Only there was no way he'd reach Poural in time.
No, it was better to report the casualties to him later, when he was presenting him with the traitor's head.
The Union was behaving, so far. Daegon had to admit that having them there wasn't the worst thing that could have happened. They provided decent support and made no attempt at seizing control from him. In fact, he could count on the Union's units like his own. A few pilots here and there complained, but generally when Daegon gave an order, the Union obeyed as if he were their lord as well.
His own clan was furious, especially now. It was finally clear where Nadar's guards had gone. The network under Poural's surface, a part of The Chieftain, was used to move people out of the way of the attack. There was no doubt in any of their hearts that the guards had remained in position at the entrances to cover the civilians' escape. That earned them the honor of dying first.
Daegon had ordered that their deaths be avenged, and his warriors accepted that duty with glee. It seemed to the warlord that they had come to hate Arboc's clan even more than the Yemalan. The raiders were almost dragged into the whole matter. They wouldn't fight for Arboc out of loyalty, and no one on his side – not even the Union – believed that the other clan lord would really give up Poural if he managed to win it.
The only good news came from Yarl, who confirmed that Zoey's fighter had touched down in a strategically unimportant area with little action around them. Daegon would have preferred to have her much, much further for the sake of her safety, but that was fine too. She didn't want to be left out, that he had already figured out.
It brought an unbidden smile to his lips. He truly loved her fierceness, even if it drove him insane with fear for her life.
He could hear the shocked gasp of the fighter's pilot and leaned to look out of the window.
The Chieftain was up ahead. The scope of the temple was vast, so the fact that it could hardly be seen said something about the matter. Fighters of all armies circled the statue, great pieces of stone falling and rolling down the sides. Here and there, Daegon could see signs of avalanches and heaps of dead on the ground.
"Find the nearest entrance," he ordered, growling. "It's time to purge the temple."
His pilot obeyed, the same need to kill and have his revenge burning in his eyes. Together, they exited the fighter, instantly coming under fire from Yemalan troops and Arboc's warriors. Behind them, scores of Daegon's fighters landed, spilling warriors to boost his ranks. They broke through the initial defenses with ease, but the outside of the temple wasn't the battleground.
The screaming greeted them before they ever set foot in the temple.
Daegon felt his blood run cold. So many voices, crying out, cramped together. They had come to search for refuge and had found death. He felt fury almost blind him, nearly missing the report that Zoey's fighter was moving again.
With the temple's darkness enveloping him, Daegon discarded that for a moment. He had to tell himself that Zoey was safe as long as she wasn't near the temple. In the thick of fighting, he couldn't allow for distractions.
His warriors closed ranks behind him, forming a spearhead with Daegon at the tip. They charged into the mass of bodies.
It was a nightmare. In the dark, it was hard to tell who was the enemy and who was a friend. Not to mention the people caught in the middle. Daegon cut his way to higher ground, both Yemalan and Corgan traitors falling to his swords. The warlord roared his defiance at them and men backed away from his wrath with such abandon that they forced a way open for him through the mass.
He climbed on top of what had been a huge statue and looked around. The Chieftain was ancient, by all accounts. There were still fire pits that had been used before their technology began to develop. Usually they were relics, enormous round plates you could walk around in, but Daegon decided they would serve their purpose once again.
"Light them up," he roared. "We shall have light in this temple!"
His warriors heard and obeyed. Daegon paid them no attention, knowing his orders would be fulfilled at once. He jumped off the statue and joined the fighting as huge flames flared up from the pits, lit by fuel and plasma shots, or whatever else his warriors found. They cast the temple in a hollow, deadly red light, but at least they could see.
"Protect the people!" Daegon bellowed over the mass of fighters. "Lead them underground, cover their escape!"
In truth, the warlord knew that the underground halls were as dangerous as the ground floor, but at least that way he could place his warriors between the enemy and the civilians. He couldn't send them outside to be slaughtered like fleeing animals by the fighters overhead.
One person, even a unit could predict aerial fire, but a panicking, screeching crowd could not. Underground, there were gigantic, explored halls and caves where people could hide.
He would have to find them later and bring them back, but at least they'd be alive.
He couldn't see Arboc anywhere. The coward insisted on hiding from him, it seemed, but he didn't see any captains or lieutenants of his clan either. It was like they had better things to do. For a second, Daegon began to doubt whether the attack on The Chieftain had been the end goal after all, but then the comm link crackled to life.
Yarl had arrived at the temple too, only to report that Zoey had landed on an upper floor some time ago. Daegon looked up at once, trying to pierce the darkness that covered the floors above his head. Why had she come back? Why put herself right in the middle of danger again?
He was starting to think the little Terran was being foolhardy on purpose, when he realized that she'd tricked him again. A part of him was interested. The last stunt she had pulled had worked well. Union forces were fighting side by side with his warriors. The Palians, in particular, took his order to defend helpless people with a seriousness befitting their species.
Another part of him was mortified. She'd only narrowly escaped Arboc the last time. And even if the other lord refused to meet Daegon in battle, he had to be in the temple.
With a roar, Daegon charged into the thick of fighting, heading for the stairs. Like before, the hall was filled with Yemalan soldiers. Right in front of him, one of the huge fire pits burned with a flame taller than him. The heat was blinding, but Daegon didn't let it stop him.
He heaved himself up on the edge, the flame casting his image across the temple. The warlord could see it flicker on the walls. Even a shadow figure of him served to send some enemies backing away. His swords had already seen plenty of action. A trail of tens and tens of dead bodies lay in his wake.
Through the flame, he could see the stairway going to the upper floors. The more he thought about it, the clearer it was that the Yemalan were trying to stop him from reaching it. Now the Corgans joined him. Several of Arboc's warriors climbed the pit's edge, following him to the inferno.
They approached from both sides, but luckily, Daegon had two swords. He blocked both blows, narrowly dodging the one who had pulled back earlier. These weren't Yemalan wretches anymore. These were trained, battle-hardened Corgan warriors, and they didn't die as easily.
Daegon smiled, getting to fight real opponents at last. He caught another strike aimed at his neck and twisted himself around on the edge, so that he could push back instead of blocking. The warrior had a second to realize he was dead before Daegon pushed him into the flame. The screaming got louder for a moment, but then quieted quickly.
The fire was burning hot.
Others charged him, trying to balance on the thin edge of the pit. Daegon dodged the blows, bending so close to the fire that it nearly got him. One of the attackers had the bright idea to try and knock his legs from under him, but Daegon was quicker. The trouble with attempting to unbalance someone was that it left the enemy just as vulnerable.
He showed the man mercy by pushing him off the pit to the other side, down to the temple floor. The warrior landed hard, hacked to pieces by Daegon's men at once.
Two remained, approaching more carefully now. Right then, the comm link came to life again.
The entire temple was thrown into disarray. All Daegon could hear was Yemalan screeching, echoing through the entire building. Even the Corgans on the pit with him looked around in confusion.
Daegon didn't speak Yemalan, but he didn't need to. The screams rose to the roof and then the Yemalan turned on their former allies. Suddenly the path to the stairs was open and Arboc's warriors came under fire from three armies.
Those were also not the allies Daegon would have chosen, but that wasn’t the time to discuss the matter. Not to mention that he finally knew why Zoey had come back. He didn't doubt for a second that it had been her doing.
Despite all the noises in the temple, he heard her scream. Through all others, it cut him like a knife, coming from way up above.
The two Corgans still coming for him lost meaning to him. Hearing that Zoey was in mortal danger made the world fall away. Daegon chose the quickest path to her. With a roar, he jumped over the flame, feeling the heat scorch the surface of his armor. He landed on the opposite edge, reaching the stairs with giant steps and not even thinking of slowing down.
Zoey's scream could only mean one thing – he finally knew where Arboc was.
Chapter Eighteen
Zoey
Zoey covered her ears with her hands, even forgetting to check whether the glove was still off.
The screaming was nauseating. From every corner of the temple, it echoed, seemingly coming right towards her.
Like the Citadel, the temple was hollow inside. Dark and looming, Zoey could see straight down to the ground floor where fires raged. She didn't know if they were lights or if it was the battle – it didn't matter. It felt like the entire war was being waged in the statue.
She'd been about to call it little, but it truly wasn't. Daegon had told her that it had tunnels leading farther than the eye could see. Those were the main places where the structure was falling in.
The bombardment couldn't possibly have helped. Suddenly, Zoey started to seriously regret coming there. The temple shook beneath her feet, threatening to topple every second. Even the idea of coming there sounded ridiculous in her mind.
This mountain will topple. The world has gone insane.
And down below, she had no doubt, people were dying as she'd predicted – the screams were a sure sign of that. Corgan warriors never screamed, and she had learned to recognize the high-pitched voices of the Yemalan.
Zoey thought she could hear Daegon's powerful voice boom commands somewhere far below, but she wasn't certain. Maybe it was wishful thinking, instinctively wanting to be near him instead of the raiders.
The unit had given her a second to gather herself with tact she wouldn't have expected from them, but now they were poking her to move forward. Zoey went along, wishing that she were deaf and couldn't hear the sounds from below. It was like the pit of hell from where she was standing.
She tried to catch what the Yemalan were saying, but could only understand a few words. They spoke too quickly for her, complete gibberish as much as she could make out. She desperately hoped that Yemalan didn't have dialects she should have known about. That would have been a… well, a bummer.
Up ahead, she could see something akin to a cave. A black doorway opened and she could hear voices inside. Corgan voices, arguing. Zoey slowed her steps at once, hoping to hear something she could use. Judging from the tones, it seemed that Arboc didn't have as strong a grip on his clan as he would have liked his enemies to believe.
The Yemalan shoved her inside the room unceremoniously and Zoey found herself staring up at Arboc once again. The warlord's face broke into a vicious grin.
"You," he said with sick glee. "You can't seem to stay away. I would have expected better from Daegon's whore, but maybe you finally recognize the righteousness of our cause."
Zoey looked around the room. In the suffocating darkness, illuminated only by globes of light shining on the walls, she could see more Corgan warriors. Compared to Daegon's men, they appeared rough and boorish to her. Every set of eyes was nailed to her, regarding her like some sort of weird animal. She wondered if a clan such as Arboc's had ever even seen a Terran. After all, she was part of the hated Galactic Union.
She tried very hard to let the "whore" comment slip, but it refused to go away.
"I'm no one's whore," she replied tersely.
Arboc laughed.
"Are you not?" the warlord asked, coming closer.
Zoey could see his features in the pale light, the scar she'd given him on his neck and the burns on his face, almost black. Those had to hurt. The warlord's voice was even more broken than the first time she'd heard him. His blue eyes were gleaming with inner sickness. Arboc burned with a fire that was about to consume him, just like he had in Loxer Garden.