The Vori's Secret

by S. J. Sanders

  Luck hadn’t done her any favors when she was sold by the Budo, or with the years of abuse she survived on Agraadax. No, Lady Luck was one fickle bitch. Jenn wondered if she too had been fickle when she reacted to the Vori. The male had been on her thoughts more than she would have liked, and she didn’t like that she was starting to second-guess herself.

  True, he hadn’t exactly endeared himself to her, but he hadn’t made any move to harm her when she’d awoken. He had ample opportunity to hurt her before she’d been able to act. Hindsight being what it was, she had to admit that perhaps she’d overreacted when confronted by a male simply wishing to help her.

  Jenn picked at her lip, staring into the jungle from where she rested on a boulder. She wondered how hard it would be to make her way back and find him. If he was even interested in helping her after she attempted to crack his head open and then set a trap to allow her to get away. Why would he even want to bother?

  She grimaced at her spear. Even after several attempts she still hadn’t managed to make even a pitiful spearhead. She was nothing but spider-bait who would run willy-nilly into the jungle as if she had a death wish. If she were the Vori, she wouldn’t want to help someone who behaved like they were too stupid to live. Tears burned her eyes and she ran her hand wearily over her face.

  What had she been thinking, running around the jungle with some vague hope of stumbling across some sort of community with a comm system? Though there had to be something if the Budo were making deliveries, she was a stranger on an alien world with no knowledge of her surroundings. Jenn wiped sweat out of her eyes and pushed herself off the rock. She couldn’t fix what had happened, but maybe if she pled her case—if she were even lucky enough to find her way back—the Vori would take pity on her.

  Jenn wrinkled her nose. She knew she made a pitiful enough sight. Her dress was damp and clinging to her like a second skin, rating high on her misery list, and she stunk to high heaven. Of course, she doubted anyone expected anything else. Not when the weather seemed to only have two settings: blistering sunshine and torrential downpour. There couldn’t be even one pleasantly warm, overcast day. Instead, the air was like a blanket, hot and heavy. Not only was she sweaty and dirty, her braids were like long fuzzy caterpillars hanging from her head. Not having slept well for days hadn’t helped either.

  On top of the arachnids, which were bad enough by themselves, she’d been awakened several times by strange roars like something straight out of the Jurassic era. That was enough to inspire both her fascination and her terror. Given her childhood love of dinosaurs when other little girls were dressing up or enthusing over horses, she had plenty to fuel her imagination.

  The thought of anything like those creatures running wild through the jungle had been enough to make her blood run cold. By the second night, she’d realized that the sounds were coming from further down the mountain and had been able to relax enough to catch a few hours of sleep. It was still of little comfort to her during her waking hours.

  It was high time to turn around and ask the only being she’d met for help. She was still terrified, but being alone in the jungle had forced her to confront her fears. After surviving all that she did in Agraadax, she understood that her survival showed just how strong she was. With a renewed sense of purpose, Jenn reversed her course, retracing her steps through the jungle.

  A large mass moved in her peripheral vision, and Jenn froze. Very slowly she turned her head, and her mouth dropped open. Clinging to a nearby tree, a giant spider, almost large enough to rival her old VW Bug, was crawling down the side of the trunk, its enormous legs stretching out around it.

  It was almost pretty, with its peridot green chitin and splashes of emerald markings on its back—if it weren’t for the horrific proportions and the deadly fangs the size of her forearm. Her heart leaped in her chest as if trying to claw its way out and a cold sweat popped out on her skin.

  From its size alone, she knew it would have no problem envenomating and consuming her. Although the alien leeches had been bad enough, they had been a mere inconvenience. This thing’s empty black eyes were focused on her in a singular way that made her well aware of her place on the food chain.

  She was prey.

  Jenn swallowed thickly and attempted to step back as she raised her wooden spear. It was laughable, but she wasn’t going to be an easy meal for it. Maybe if she injured it, even a little, there would be a chance that she’d be able to get away. The arachnid matched her movement by darting down the tree, its forelegs arching.

  Jenn stabbed at the spider. By some miracle, the spear pierced through a vulnerable spot, making it shriek angrily in pain. But her luck ended there when the spear jerked out of her hands but broke from the impact.

  The arachnid’s legs tensed as if preparing to spring toward her, but then pitched as a huge spear spun out from the trees, pinning its body to the tree as its fluids leaked along the bark beneath it. Jenn promptly bent over and puked, her body spewing stomach acid and emptying itself of the few miserly berries she’d found earlier that day. When her stomach finished revolting, she raised her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she searched for the alien male. He must have been the architect of her rescue.

  From above, a heavy net crashed down around her without warning.

  She thrashed against the weighted netting as the loud voices filled the air as no fewer than six males in a rainbow of hues dropped from the trees above her. Their long tails absorbed their falls and they pushed themselves up on their coils to hover over her excitedly. An ash-gray male broke away and yanked the spear, pulling it free from spider and tree both as if he were pulling a knife out of soft cheese. The sickening sucking sound of the spear being pulled from the guts and chitin seemed amplified to Jenn, even among the noise surrounding her.

  The spider crumpled to the jungle floor in front of the hunter and he grinned down at it with a victorious expression before leaning over and making quick work of cutting off its legs. Each one, upon severing, he stuffed into a large woven sack made of some sort of water-resistant material. She could see the beads of humidity build up and roll off as he went about his task.

  Jenn felt her nausea return with a vengeance at the butchering. She gagged but was grateful when she didn’t embarrass herself with another bout of sickness. Still, it was an unpleasant accompaniment to the building terror at being surrounded in a vulnerable position. She scrambled to locate her stick, but, to her disgust, she’d dropped her spear and it had rolled out of reach.

  That didn’t stop Jenn from renewing her struggles as the males pressed in curiously around her. She wiggled her arm beneath her and reached into her sack, pulling out a large shiv barely smaller than the length of her hand from palm to fingertip. One of her failures at making a spearhead, it still had a keen edge and had become one of her favorites. Leaning away, she attempted to saw through the netting, but the fibers were so densely woven that it was like trying to saw through cable with a nail file.

  The males laughed but made no effort to relieve her of her weapon. So far, none of them had made a threatening move—other than the net holding her down—but none moved to release her. A male with rust-colored scales leaned forward, his red eyes narrowing at her as he smirked and poked at her with the dull end of his spear. It hit her hip with enough force to send a bolt of pain through her.

  “Ouch! That hurt, motherfucker,” she said as she attempted to twist her hips away from him. She swiped out at him with her blade only for him to knock it violently out of her hand. She hissed painfully and snatched her hand up against her chest.

  His face pulled into a scowl and he raised his spear to jab at her again but was stopped by another with scales the color of muted lavender, who placed a restraining hand on his arm. He attempted to shake it off.

  “Do not restrain me, Emelo. I will endure abuses from the females of our clan because I must, but I am under no obligation to tolerate this offworlder.”

  “You are not using y
our brain, Xenel, as usual.” The other males in the circle chuckled at the observation. “First, it was not aimed at you alone, but you do not see any of the rest of us retaliating against a defenseless female. Second, do you not have the eyes to see that we have caught a human female? She is more valuable to us than your ego.”

  Valuable? That didn’t sound good for her future. Jenn clawed at the netting, which several of her captors seemed to find amusing. A dark green male leaned forward, a smile curving his lips.

  “Look how tiny and feeble her claws are,” he said with a chuckle as he extended a single finger and prodded at her hand with his long black claw. Jenn immediately pulled out another shiv, sadly nowhere as impressive in size, and stabbed it into his hand. Although it didn’t appear to do much damage to the thick skin, she had the satisfaction of seeing him yelp and jerk back his injured hand.

  Some of the males grinned, but Xenel was not amused. His hand darted forward, quick as a striking snake, and grabbed her pouch. With one hard jerk, he snapped the thin vine, taking her weapons from her. He glanced within the pouch, curled his lip, and flung it into the bushes before returning his attention to the other hunters.

  “My cousin mated with a human. They are, as a species, delicate and helpless compared to the strength and power of Vori females,” the one called Xenel replied. “I suppose that would be something desirable for some males.” Among all of them, he was the only one looking at her with obvious distaste. He also sported a wicked scar on his upper tail just beneath his hip bone.

  Emelo laughed, the end of his tail slapping out playfully. “Xenel, you and I both know that no Vori female will accept males such as us. We are too dominant to bow to their every wish and passively endure their temper. How many Vori females have we been able to even to entice to look at our nest? You are only bitter because Shaagra was forced to instill some manners in you when you attempted to assault his nestmate Walooth.”

  Xenel’s lips pulled back from his fangs but then his expression turned contemplative as he looked down at her. Jenn decided she preferred him when he was staring at her like a bug compared to the sudden spark of interest in his eyes.

  “If you are not interested, Nesharvo and I would be happy to bring her into our nest,” the green one offered. Nesharvo, a dark yellowish male with vivid black markings, directed a shocked look at Jiriel. The green one moved his hand, which seemed to satisfy something for Nesharvo, and he voiced his agreement.

  Xenel’s tail twitched and a low rattling issued forth, several long barbs sliding out into view. He snapped his head forward, baring his fangs at the other male. Although her arms and legs were tired from fighting the net, the aggressive display only drove Jenn’s panic, as she lay curled into herself, shaking, her heart fluttering in her chest. The green Vori raised his hands palms outward in what appeared to be a universal sign of surrender.

  Emelo hissed in rebuke. “Do not tease him, Jiriel.” He then leveled Xenel with a hard look. “Brother, you are frightening her.”

  Xenel glared and thrust the end of his spear into the ground beside him as he darted his tongue out in her direction, scenting her fear. His lip curled. “See? Weak. A female of our kind would never shudder in terror over nothing.”

  “I don’t disagree,” Emelo returned with a grin. “She is more of a pet than a suitable mate, but we can at least breed successfully with her and she should offer some sort of entertainment. The female in the valley spawned many young for her nest.”

  No. No. No! Jenn couldn’t bear to be held as a breeder again. Not only forced to submit to their lust, but to the eventual abuses that would be heaped upon her when she failed to deliver young. She looked at each of the males, hoping someone would speak up. Several looked away, and although Jiriel frowned and looked down at her with unmistaken sympathy, he too kept his silence.

  “Please, no,” she begged. Never in her life on Earth had she ever thought she would be reduced to begging. He had broken her of that within the first year. Now she’d shamelessly beg if there was even a chance at her freedom. “I just want to go home.”

  Emelo laughed and shook his head as he plucked the netting. “Oh no, I must apologize, but we cannot allow that. You see, our nest, like many others among our clan, needs a female. Mountain life is hard, and even most clan females leave to go to the valleys and deep jungles when they are mature to hunt for a suitable pair of males to nest with. It gets even more difficult for males like Xenel, who find difficulty yielding to the authority of our females, not that it stops him from desiring them. As much as none of us may like it, you are exactly what we need.”

  Jenn shook the net. “I don’t want to stay on Vora!”

  He raised his arms in what she assumed to be a kind of shrug. “What you desire is immaterial.” He turned his head to snap out orders. “Do not let her free of the net. We do not know what she might do in an attempt to escape. We will pick up the ends of the net and carry her in a restraining hold.”

  “Emelo, she isn’t our enemy,” Jiriel protested. The barbed end of Xenel’s tail struck him across the back hard enough to make the male gasp, and beads of blood to showed on his skin.

  “Just do as the hunt lead has instructed,” Xenel hissed with a snap of his teeth. Jiriel paled and gripped an open space of the net.

  With each of the males holding onto a weighted end, with one fluid movement, they twisted the net so they were able to scoop her up inside its confines. Jenn let out a startled shout, her arms and feet dropping to dangle from the small openings. Not one gap in the net was large enough for her to push her way through but plenty big enough that she couldn’t stop her limbs from falling through them.

  She shuddered as they lifted her up and passed her above the giant spider as they slithered past. She tried not to allow any part of her to touch the creature but couldn’t stop her knuckles from brushing the bristle of his abdomen. Jenn shuddered and closed her eyes. The net swayed between the Vori and as they made their way through the jungle, all she could think about was that she now understood why the Budo were so eager to leave.

  She tried to hold onto her hope that she’d get off the planet. After all, she managed to leave Agraadax when she’d been certain that it was impossible. Even that reassurance dimmed the longer she was carried between them like some kind of trophy or wild game.

  Chapter 7

  Eyuul scowled from his place high in the branches. Other males, the rival clan from the Shagorith, had snatched his female up as their prize, and he had been useless. He’d been too caught up in his own elation upon seeing her retracing her path, returning to him, that he not only failed to spot the shoyla in a timely fashion but he’d utterly failed to see the presence of the hunting party in the lower canopy.

  The mountain Vori below lifted the large net between them, their bodies so close together that he could barely see the small body of the female caught within it. It was only by chance that one of the males shifted just enough that he caught a glimpse of flame-like braided coils of human hair. He considered dropping on them, but he was alone against an entire hunting band.

  Though far smaller in size than the Vori of his own clan, he was outnumbered. He wasn’t foolish; he was aware of the fact that if he attacked now his chances of success would be highly unlikely. So, he waited and watched from his perch, anger burning hot in his belly.

  He’d recognized Xenel immediately, who he had seen at Vadal’s mating ceremony. Still, even from high in the trees, the long scar from one of the barbs of Shaagra’s tail was clear. The male had obviously learned nothing of manners from the harsh lesson, given what he witnessed playing out on the ground below.

  Eyuul hated his powerless position as the male taunted her. He wanted nothing more than to descend and reiterate Shaagra’s warning with his own barbs.

  Following at a safe distance, Eyuul trailed the band higher in the mountains until they broke free from the tree line when they reached rocky nesting ground. Although he spent much time in the lower mountains h
unting shoyla, he’d never seen the nesting grounds of the es’Agor clan deep in the brutal landscape of the Shagorith Mountains. Unlike the comfortable jungle clearing in the Norveth Valley where the es’Etale clan made their nests, the ground was rocky and inhospitable. Even the trees thinned out to the point where Eyuul was no longer able to safely approach from a higher elevation.

  Purple rock broke throughout the nesting grounds and the clan population was leaner, among them even fewer females than he was accustomed to seeing. The few offspring visible playing among the rocks were small and compact compared to those of the es’Etale clan. The return of the hunters with the human caught the attention of the village as many abandoned their tasks to trail curiously after the band until they disappeared into a nest, taking his female with them.

  Eyuul watched without blinking, his entire body alert for any opening to attack. He didn’t have to wait for long. A short time later, the males emerged, all but one doubtlessly left to guard her.

  That one was going to be a problem. He’d hoped that the hunters would have all departed and moved to join the rest of the clan by the fires to eat and drink their fill, overconfident in their ability to contain a single human. It seemed that Shaagra’s brethren were smarter than that.

  Hiding high in a nearby tree, his coloring allowing him to blend in among the foliage, Eyuul observed the comings and goings of the hunters and the clan. The scent of cooked shoyla wafted in the air and soon the entire clan gathered to enjoy the community feast. Xenel left only briefly to bring plates of food back to his nest. The male seemed to have no interest in tarrying with Jenn because within minutes he reemerged from the nest, a sour expression on his face that told Eyuul all he needed to know of the male’s opinion of her.