by JC Hay
No. Moving on. Deadly creatures outside.
Fortunately, her eyes worked just fine in the low light. She doubted Octiron had expected any contestants with that particular trait. If they had, the company would never have picked a darkened world for one of their challenges. Humans always forgot the other species didn’t share their limitations. Not that Kayana was complaining—not depending on a light source made her job easy.
She spotted the enormous set of nostrils blocking the exit and reminded herself to be careful the next time she used the word easy.
A snort of surprise filled the narrow space with the creature’s fetid breath, and Kayana froze in place despite herself. The scales around the nose’s ridged edge flared, and the thing’s muzzle twisted to bring a pitted rostrum to point into the cave. She’d seen sensory pits like that before—many of the reptiles on G’henna had the same appearance. These might be bigger, but Kayana doubted that would make them less effective for finding targets in the dark based on body heat.
And thanks to her dalliances with a certain human, she was producing a lot of body heat.
The thing at the mouth of the cave let loose a whining howl of frustration. Giant claws scraped and scratched at the opening, sending small pieces of rock tumbling down the scree in the effort to widen the entrance. More howls followed, at least two other creatures, and soon she could see the additional muzzles shoving each other out of the way as they tried to “look” into the entrance and dig her out. The howls turned into snaps and growls, as the three animals pushed against each other.
“Don’t suppose I’d be lucky enough for them to kill each other off,” she muttered. Given the size of the nose, she could imagine how big the rest of the creature might be. There’d be no outrunning them, which meant she and Ax would have to outsmart them.
“What’s going on? Can you tell?” Ax’s whisper echoed down the narrow passage, triggering a new round of angry barks from the creatures outside and more frantic digging.
Kayana sighed and shook her head. “Yeah, they’re really sensitive to sound for starters.” A shower of dust rained down into her hair, along with a few larger rocks. The boulders had been tall enough that she hadn’t thought to check for an upper opening, a decision she was suddenly not especially sure had been wise.
“What about the Queen’s Eye? Can you see it?”
Right. The Eye. The whole reason they were down here in the first place. Not to spend time locking mouths with a thoroughly unsuitable Gr’gori. At least one of them was thinking straight, time for her to do the same. Had she been clever instead of panicky she could have brought the scanner with her. Now she had to hope the gemstone they sought might be visible from the entrance by luck. She latched on to the frustration. Anger and annoyance were a damn sight easier to deal with than...other emotions. “Haven’t seen it yet. They’re not exactly putting a flashing light on the thing.”
“Yeah, that would be too convenient. Like actually marking a buried treasure with an X.” He chuckled quietly.
She had no idea what he was talking about—why in the Nine Names would you bury a treasure once you had one? Humans were a mess. Maybe the AI would offer some insight into dealing with them. If it was feeling charitable. And she survived down here.
The creatures began their frenzied digging again, the echo of their excited yips and growls a potent reminder that survival was most certainly not guaranteed.
“Come back to the back,” Ax whispered. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Why doesn’t that sound promising?” She looked toward the entrance again, where snapping crystalline teeth and claws struggled to get closer. After a deep breath, she muttered the fifteenth maxim under her breath. “A bad idea is fixed more easily than no idea.”
“What’s that?” Ax scooted to one side, giving her room to come in without crowding her.
While she appreciated the gesture, it triggered a flash of disappointment. She told herself he didn't surrender the space because he regretted their encounter, but her skin's awareness of him made her wish he was less polite. Kayana collected her thoughts and answered him. “Al’kheri’s Fifteenth Maxim, essentially, that it’s easier to start with something than nothing.”
He made an interested noise, which surprised her. She was too used to people dismissing the philosophy as archaic and obsolete. Not that she had time to discuss the finer points of the Sixty-Six Maxims with him. It wasn’t something Gr’gori would understand, anyway.
“Anyway,” he said. “The plan. We just need a distraction, right? Something to get them away from the mouth of the cave until we can split them up?”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Well, you said they were drawn to sound. What if we throw a big rock or something? They could chase it and give us a chance to get out of this dead end.”
She shook her head. “It would have to be sound and heat. Otherwise they’d be chasing after the scree they’re knocking down the slope from trying to dig in here.”
“Even better!” He used his normal voice in excitement and was answered by a howl from outside. “Just use your fire-shaping thing to throw a fireball down off the ridge, and we’re in the clear.”
She blanched, thankful his human eyes wouldn’t see her reaction in the dark. Of course, he’d lock on to that as a possibility. One errant mention in a moment of pride and he’d decided it was the key to their salvation. Never mind that she hadn’t been able to pass more than the most basic ranks in v’tana. She couldn’t throw a fireball any more than he could.
There was no choice but to admit her failing. If she could endure Endarion’s mockery over her shortcomings, then she could weather this human’s scorn just as easily. “There’s a problem with that.”
“You think they won’t fall for it?”
She thought about grasping at the out he’d unknowingly offered; she could say yes, and it would provide a believable excuse. So why couldn’t she lie to him? “No. It’s a sound strategy, surprisingly. But...my skills aren’t that advanced. I can shape a flame if one exists. I can’t generate them out of nothing.”
“But if you had a flame, you could make it bigger or smaller? Make it move?”
“Of course,” she answered, trying not to sound hurt that he thought her completely without skill. “That’s the easiest form of v’tana. Not that it matters. We don’t have a flame—”
“Would a flare work?” He held up a pair of magnesium flares in one hand. “Survival kits have two flares in them. I, um, got worried about not being able to see.”
She kissed him, claiming his mouth in glee and surprise. As she pulled away, she curled her fingers around one of the flares and tugged it from his grip. “Your cowardice may have just given us a solution. These would work perfectly.”
KAYANA HELD HER BREATH as she ignited the flare, half-expecting it wouldn’t work. Ax looked away, trying to keep his eyes from being seared by the white-hot light as it burst into being, but she couldn’t look anywhere else. V’tana taught that every flame had its own character, like metal or clay, which made them better for some shapes and worse at others. Blinding white magnesium was good for loose shapes, too consumptive to hold complex forms, and too bright to show much detail. All of which was just as well, since she couldn’t do those things anyway.
In that sense, she and the flame were perfectly matched.
She curled her hand around the end of the flare, pulling the flames up and away. She went through the exercises that helped her to visualize the oxygenation reaction happening, connecting with the state her people called the living flame. Despite her skill, she could feel the heat on her skin, the sting of its caress reminding her she was playing with a fire on the very edge of her ability to control.
Once she had connected to the v’tana and felt like it might obey her, she let out the breath she’d been holding. A glance at Ax revealed him watching in fascination at something Malebranki children could do without thinking. To him, in that moment, she was a thing
of wonder and magic. She made a point of memorizing the mixture of awe and amazement on his face. When all this was behind her, not being a disappointment to someone would be a welcome memory. “Where’s the Queen’s Eye?”
When he didn’t answer, she prompted him again. “The jewel?”
“Right!” He shook his head as though ensorcelled then glanced at the tracker. “It looks like it’s pacing around the rocks.”
Kayana suspected it was the same one which had tried to find an upper entrance, showing itself to be more clever than its fellows. With luck that meant it wouldn’t be tricked as easily. “Okay, let me know when it’s opposite the entrance. Then be ready to act fast.”
She handed him the flare and started down the passage again, allowing the living flame to snake around her fingers. The two creatures at the entrance had succeeded in digging out a small amount of the rock, only to replace it with snapping jaws that grew more excited as the fire came closer. Behind her, Ax squeezed in tight while he read from the scanner. “Almost... Almost... Now!”
She fed energy to the flame, using her connection to shape it into a rough sphere the size of her head. When it was big enough, she bowled it along the ground. The two animals recoiled a moment, and the fireball bounced out the thin fissure and off into the darkness. Both creatures turned to follow the heat and then chased after it with baying howls.
It wouldn’t distract them for long. More important, though, another call sounded from behind the rocks. Not excited, but frustrated. Hungry. Kayana shoved the rest of the way out of the rocks in time to see the creature bounding around the curve of her and Ax’s makeshift shelter. As a whole, the beast was strange in the extreme—a broad, eyeless head atop a ropy, muscular body covered in loose-fitting skin. At another time, she might have been fascinated at its adaptations for the environment in which it lived, but now, the only thing she cared about was the collar attached to its neck and the bright gem hanging from the strap.
She called back to the entrance, “Found it. Toss me the flare!”
Ax did as she’d ordered, and both she and the creature turned to follow as the magnesium flame tumbled toward her. As soon as it was close enough for her to sense its connection to her v’tana she pushed as much energy into the fire as she could.
The flare, impossibly, blazed even brighter. The heat seared her skin and burned its image across her retinas despite her tightly closed eyelids. The creature reared back with a frustrated scream, its senses blinded by the overwhelming heat. Kayana turned back to the cave and shouted, “Now!”
Ax charged out from the cave, skidding to a stop as he saw the creature for the first time. Just when she worried that he might not recover, he dug a plasma cutter out of the survival kit. The energy arc wasn’t large enough to threaten the creature with harm, but it sliced through the collar easily while the thing swung its head back and forth. He grabbed the gem out of the dirt and ran to her side, while the holovid drone zoomed in for the action shot.
Through her v’tana, she felt the last of the fuel in the flare be consumed. With enough focus, she might be able to keep it as bright as it had been, but the flare had made the job easy. Without it, the light and heat were already diminished. Before long the creature would recover its senses, and she and Ax would be prey once again.
Ax’s hand snaked into hers, tucking a warm jewel against her palm. “We’ve got it. Let’s get out of here.”
She tapped the comm unit nested against her ear. “Ship! Bring us back aboard! Now!”
There was a frustrating pause where she wondered if Algol had heard them, followed by the dizzying nausea that immediately preceded a transmit beam. When she opened her eyes, she and Ax were back on the ship, and the multi-faceted holographic gaze of the AI watched them with disinterest.
Ax, breathing hard, leaned over with his forearms braced against his thighs. Once he’d recovered his breath, he looked at her with a grin that she had to admit might be charming for all its cockiness.
She held up the gem, the blue glow of the hologram shifting to purple as she viewed it through the red gemstone. “That,” she said with a pleased smile, “is one.”
Seven
Ax slumped in one of the acceleration chairs on the bridge, fingers trailing absently through the list of challenges without picking any of them. Okay, he thought. That first one went well. When will the other shoe drop?
Fluff bumped into his ankle insistently. Rather than prolong the irritation, Ax gave in, picked the creature up, and put it on his lap. He combed his fingers through Fluff’s fur with one hand while he examined his choices. There had to be something else, another small-points challenge that would allow them to stay well away from places that Gobby and her miscreants typically frequented. The options looked grim. Smaller points meant they’d be racing longer, which kept him safe in the short term. On the other hand, the longer he took to pay off Gobby, the more likely she’d be to cram him into a pain-amplifier for a long time, and then kill him.
Fluff made a trilling noise somewhere between a grumble and a purr as it settled more thoroughly into his lap. Ax reminded himself that he wasn’t a pet person, though he had to admit to a certain sense of ease and satisfaction as the creature relaxed.
The door opened from the hall, and he didn’t have to turn around to know that Kayana had walked onto the bridge. Somehow, his nerves just seemed to stretch toward her. His skin tingled from the nearness of her, from the memory of her touch. He couldn’t avoid noticing her, even if he wanted to. It was a poor survival trait, like a mouse infatuated with cats.
She walked up behind his chair and curled one hand onto his shoulder. He could feel the points of her nails through the fabric of his shirt, but it was the warmth of her skin that sent the blood rushing from his head to other, less-responsible places. She leaned down, and the loose neck of her shirt gaped open; it would be an act of supreme will to avoid looking down the front of her shirt.
His willpower had never been that good.
Beyond the open neckline, her scarlet skin swelled into the soft mounds he remembered from their time in the cave. If he craned his neck, he might have a better view, but the last thing he wanted to do was call attention to his peeking.
She cleared her throat, and he lifted his gaze to a smile that was all teeth. “Find anything interesting?”
“Extremely,” he replied, and her nails dug into his shoulder just enough to be teasingly painful. Before his brain could spin that out into any number of delicious fantasies, he leaned up to enlarge the display. “So, there are a few options.” Ax scrolled through until he reached the challenge he thought best suited them. And more importantly one that was a fair distance away.
She frowned. “That seems a little unambitious. Why not something worth more points? We handled that last one well enough.”
“You handled that last one. It was fortunate for us that those things used heat to track.”
“You’re the one who thought to bring flares.” She eased the pressure from her hand and looked back at the list. “We should consider some of these higher-value challenges while our luck is running.”
“In my experience, luck is not a trustworthy bedmate.” He chuckled at the bitter truth of the statement. “She loses interest quickly and finds new blood when it pleases her.”
“That seems a waste. Far better to exhaust all the options. Wring every last drop out of the person, then toss away the husk.”
Dammit. That should not have been as sexy as she made it sound. But with her husky voice and the soft promise of debauchery in her accent? Ax had never wanted to be used quite so badly. He swallowed and forced himself to keep his eyes on her face.
Not that her face was that much safer a place to look. Her position put her mouth at eye level, and it was too easy to remember that kiss and how delicious it had been. She licked her lip quickly. The pink tip of her tongue against the charcoal of her lips sent an electric jolt racing down his spine and directly into his groin. They were talking
about something; why couldn’t he remember what it was? What had been his point?
Points!
“See, there’s a problem with that.” Ax turned away and busied himself sorting the challenge list by planet. “See these challenges here? They’re all on Altaira. It may look like there’s a lot of them, and that’s because there are. Every team has to stop on this planet in order to complete the race. Probably because Octiron cut some sweet deal with their Board of Tourism. If you look, though, all of them are pretty high points. That leads me to believe that, whatever the tourism board wants the public to think, this place is a deathtrap.”
He took a breath and glanced back to her face, making sure she was still paying attention. She nodded to him, so he continued. “The more points we accrue before we head there, the easier challenge we can get away with when we finally arrive. Make sense?” It should, Ax thought. It made sense to him as well. Of course, she’d pointed out his cowardice more than once, though he preferred the term self-preservation.
Kayana hesitated. Her teeth worried at her bottom lip, and Ax caught himself staring again. “But three high-scoring challenges will complete in shorter time than four low-value ones. I thought it was about speed?”
“Doesn’t stop the requirement about us going to Altaira,” he admitted. “And we can’t win if we don’t survive. But sure. It’s your choice.” She leaned closer, her body warm where it pressed into his shoulder. He couldn’t miss the slightly spicy smell of her skin, and it summoned memories of their kiss. Not the passionate one, though that had been spectacular, but the sudden kiss when he’d produced the flares for her. A moment of pure, unguarded joy that made him wonder what she was like without all her walls in place.
She pulled up a mid-range challenge on the display. “How about this one?”
Ax studied the description. It wouldn’t be the whole truth of course, but it didn’t sound too horrible. “It’s a temperate water world, so we’ll be able to get some beach time in as well as score another challenge. Did you pack a swimsuit?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he remembered that she had nothing. That everything she’d once had was space dust, because of him.