by Anna Carven
“I was there.” He walked across to a nearby tree and ran his fingers over a spot on its trunk, taking in some invisible detail. “There’s also the vir-trail. I can still see the traces, but they are already starting to fade. We must hurry.”
Esania strode after Imril as he turned and made his way up the rocky path, his bare feet making barely a sound. In contrast, she crunched whenever she took a step, even though she tried her best to be silent.
Her thick-soled traveling boots didn’t help.
Imril had returned them to her, and she wore them over her smooth thermoskin pants, along with the padded golden jacket, which Rau had returned to her freshly laundered and smelling faintly of something lemony. Although the forests here were humid during the day, they could turn chilly at the drop of a hat, especially if a sudden storm or gale blew in, and it was cold up there in the skies, so the jacket was a welcome addition, especially now as a gust of wind tugged at her braids. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The fresh scent of ozone and earth and leaves swirled around them, hinting at the storm that was to come.
Esania hurried after Imril, thankful that she’d stuck to her daily strength and conditioning program back on Mars. Keeping up with his rapid pace was no problem at all.
She took a deep breath. “Why don’t you trust the Vradhu?” It was as good a place as any to start. She had so many questions for him, but when picking Imril’s brains, she had to be careful. He tolerated her for now, but she wasn’t under any illusions that he was suddenly going to drop everything and give her absolute freedom.
They crested a small hill and navigated around a patch of dead bushes, and at one point, Imril actually had to raise his hand and use his power to burn through the dead thorny branches. The thicket shriveled into ash in a heartbeat, sending a plume of glowing embers up into the air. One by one, the floating embers blinked out.
Then they were on the move again, and for a while, Imril was silent.
“The Vradhu are the original inhabitants of this planet,” he said at last, his deep voice cutting through the stillness. Esania still couldn’t quite believe he was speaking Earthian; she’d never heard of technology that could seed a language directly into the recipient’s brain.
“And the Drakhin…?”
“We were created. A made race, just like the Naaga. Drakhin is a Vradhu word. It means treacherous blood.”
Made race.
Just like the Primeans. Half of Esania’s chromosomes came from a heavily edited, artificially enhanced pool.
“Treacherous?” A sliver of unease unwound in the pit of her stomach. “Why would they call you that?”
“Treacherous can refer to danger or betrayal. We are capable of both, and the Vradhu know better than any other species what it means to go to war with us.”
“War?”
“We fought, once. They lost.”
His words sent a chill through her. “So you’re mortal enemies?”
“It is… complicated.”
“And you don’t want them in your stronghold because of some war that was fought a long time ago.”
“Vradhu do not forget. It’s highly likely that any one of them could stab me with their cursed tail-barbs and kill me with deadly poison.” He guided her through the thorny thicket and into a small clearing carpeted with dead brown plants. Imril looked over his shoulder, his beautiful, inhuman face turning into an inscrutable mask. “Their ancestors died at my hands, as did many Drakhin. They fear me, and they detest me. Why would I trust any of them?”
“You make it sound as if killing people is a regular thing for you.”
A hollow laugh escaped him. “Now that my race has all but destroyed itself, perhaps that will change.”
They left the clearing and entered a stand of tall trees with slender silver trunks. Small yellow leaves fell from above, and as Esania glanced up, she realized the trees were shedding their leafy crowns.
Part of her wished she’d never asked Imril about the Vradhu.
Now she was left with more questions than answers, and a glimpse of Imril that she hadn’t wanted to see—ruthless killer, cynical ancient.
Something monstrous, perhaps.
“They ran,” he said, casting his eyes across the leaf-strewn forest floor. “The Vradhu were weakened by poison, and they couldn’t fight back. It was the humans who came and helped them escape as I took down the Naaga. Strong males and females with weapons.”
“Calexa and her crew,” Esania said absentmindedly as she looked down and saw a flash of silver. “Wait.” She crouched down and plucked a small silver object from the ground.
An earring. She recognized it as belonging to Odessa, one of her horticultural specialists. The tiny thing was shaped like a flower, with glittering pink gemstones in the center.
A distinctly feminine item worn by a woman who was definitely not all that feminine.
“They definitely fled,” she said, her anxiety growing. Odessa wasn’t the sort to just carelessly lose an earring. The woman had a reputation for being meticulous, with never a hair out of place. “What exactly happened here, Imril? You said the Naaga were here, that you blasted them and took off with Sara…” Her eyes narrowed. “Was anyone hurt?”
To her relief, they hadn’t seen any bodies.
“The Naaga,” Imril said, a chill entering his voice. “I thought I killed them all, but there is no trace of their ships, and no bodies. Someone has come and cleaned up the mess.”
“Other Naaga?”
“Perhaps.”
“They want us… humans… because of our vir?”
“Yes,” he hissed.
“They feed, just like you do?”
“No. They are Sources too, but their Master is Drakhin.” Imril’s expression darkened. “Let’s move.”
He turned away, his wings clasped firmly against his back.
Clearly, that was the end of this discussion.
They walked briskly up the gravelly slope, and Esania started to become short of breath as she kept pace with Imril. That was strange. Usually, this level of physical activity would not have been a problem for her, but she didn’t have much time to think about it, because the next thing she knew, a Vradhu war-spear flew past her face and somehow ended up in Imril’s clenched fist.
He spun around, his wings raised, his eyes blazing with vir, fury creasing his pale features. In a single powerful movement, he spun the spear in his hand and hurled it back in the direction it had come from.
Thunk.
Esania spun around in alarm, searching for their attacker. She saw a flash of violet in the shadows. Vradhu. The blade of the war-spear was firmly embedded in the mottled trunk of a tree, but the Vradhu was nowhere to be seen.
“Get behind me.” Imril commanded, putting his arm out protectively as he strode forward. He put on his helm, protecting his face. Golden energy crackled from his fingers, giving off a distinct smell of ozone as it dissipated into the air.
Esania started to move, but he made a warning gesture with his hand. “Don’t move,” he snapped.
He said something in Vradhu, and although Esania couldn’t understand the words, the cold fury in his voice was obvious, promising death to her Vradhu attacker.
“Don’t kill him,” she said, fearing Imril’s savage temper. “He probably thinks you’ve come back to abduct another one of them. He’s Vradhu. Of course he’s going to fight.”
But he ignored her, becoming a shimmering blur as he darted forward, an ominous hiss erupting from his throat.
It was eerily similar to the primal sound she’d heard the Vradhu make when threatened, and once again, she was struck by the likeness between the two species.
But there was no time to wonder about the uncanny resemblance, because Esania feared Imril was about to kill the Vradhu and ruin her plan to get her humans to safety.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Tell me why I should spare you,” Imril said softly, speaking in Vradhu as he stalked through the undergrowth,
“when you so very nearly killed my Source?”
He trembled with anger, almost losing control of the power that surged through his body. The Vradhu remained hidden, saying nothing, but Imril knew the purple-skinned bastard hadn’t gone far. He would be there in the sekkhoi thicket, waiting for the right moment to strike and sink his barbed tail into Imril’s flesh.
Vradhu had only one shot at harming a Drakhin, but it was deadly.
Imril wasn’t worried, though. He was wearing scale-armor, and even at a third of his full power, a single Vradhu was no match for him. “I would normally incinerate you for that, but I have made a promise to my human.” He grabbed a thorny branch, his hands crackling with power. “Your survival is dependent on your cooperation. I will say this only once. Show yourself, or I will burn you alive.”
Esania wisely stayed behind him, but he could feel the anxiety rolling off her in waves. He was glad she didn’t speak the language of the Two Clans, because he didn’t want her to understand that he was one step away from killing the Vradhu.
The bastard’s spear had flown just a hand’s breadth from her face, and that was unforgivable. She could have been seriously harmed, or even killed! Rage roiled around in his veins, surprising him with its ferocity.
He hadn’t appreciated how truly vulnerable Esania was until now. With her soft scale-less skin, limited strength, and seemingly endless supply of vir, she was poorly adapted to survive in the wilds of Khira.
And yet she’d been so fearless when trying to protect the pregnant one, Sara.
Humans.
Such fascinating creatures. Where had they come from? Imril knew there were other worlds out there in the endless Universe. His very own father had been from a distant planet.
“Imril,” Esania warned, and part of him would do anything for her, as long as she asked him in that sweet, patient, calming voice. It was a balm on his seething, restless soul.
She was beautiful. He couldn’t deny it.
But the Drakhin in him couldn’t relinquish control. He waited, ready to send his power through the sekkhoi thicket at the slightest provocation.
Finally, there was a faint rustle of branches, and the Vradhu emerged, materializing out of the shadows, pulling his war-spear out of the tree trunk. He wore the thick, molded kratok armor that was characteristic of their tribe, and he moved with the fluid grace of a seasoned hunter.
A striking pattern of black pigmentation decorated his face, accentuating the fierceness of his glare.
For a moment, he just stared at Imril, not in the least bit intimidated. Then he glanced at Esania, gave her a single nod of recognition, and diverted his attention back to Imril.
“Lightbringer,” he hissed. “What do you want?”
Imril nodded in Esania’s direction. “The human has asked for my protection—for her people. I have an eyrie in the Half-green Forest, in the center of Lake—”
“Kunlo’s old place. I know it.” The Vradhu folded his thick arms and frowned. “Where is the pregnant one? Did you touch her?”
“I did not. You think I would risk the life inside her for a small hit of vir?” Imril glowered at the Vradhu. This upstart had no idea about the rules Drakhin had lived by—rules he had made. Once, Imril would have thrown the young warrior to the ground and impaled him then and there, just for questioning his integrity.
There was a time, long ago, when Imril had been quick to anger, and he had enforced each and every one of his laws ruthlessly, without question, without argument, striking terror into the hearts of the other Drakhin, never letting them forget the true extent of his power, which vastly eclipsed theirs.
Because only he and Mael were true Drakhin, the sons of Acheros, the monster.
The others… biologically competent, but their Drakhin aum-genes were diluted.
Those were the old times, the savage times, when the world of Drakhin was still being built, when the Ancestor was still alive, when Imril was the Favored Son.
But then his empire had grown, and the Kingdoms had been formed, and the Drakhin population grew and grew, thanks to the female Vradhu mates, and their civilization had grown complicated and intricate and Imril had learned of certain truths and horrors, and he had started to think: what the fuck is the point of it all?
Cynicism was a disease, one that had afflicted him for a very long time.
But now, with Esania standing at his back, silent, watchful, hopeful, depending on him for the survival of her people, he started to feel that old fire again.
She had placed her trust in him.
And her vir crackled through his veins.
Life. Returned.
He hadn’t felt like this in longer than he could remember.
“Where are the humans?” he demanded, feeling strangely protective. All for Esania’s sake. What an effect she had on him.
“You will not find them, Lightbringer. Not even you. Especially not you.”
“You think I can’t see their auras from the sky?”
“We know what you’re capable of. You won’t find them this time.” Unexpectedly, the Vradhu smiled, revealing his sharp teeth. “I understand Drakhin law, Overlord. I am a Lord of the Two Clans myself. I also understand that desperate circumstances can make ancient laws seem irrelevant. You Drakhin have caused more death and destruction on this planet in a few thousand rotations than we Vradhu could ever have conceived of, and now your blue magrel servants are loose, and they are multiplying and causing chaos, destroying the natural order like you wouldn’t believe.” His smile was wide, but his eyes were cold, holding a glint of accusation. “How am I supposed to trust you when you have left such chaos in your wake, Overlord?”
Imril shrugged. “You know what I am. I will give you a choice. You can stay in the wilds with your humans and wait for the Naaga to find you, which they have done before, or you can send a scout to my eyrie and see for yourself that the pregnant human is untouched, and you can accept the offer of my personal protection, for you and your pack and your human sisters. You see who accompanies me now. Esania is unharmed, and unafraid. It is she who asked me to come here.”
The Vradhu’s black eyes flicked in Esania’s direction, and they shared some sort of silent communication.
Esania nodded slowly.
“Both times, I found you easily,” Imril said softly. “Their vir burns so brightly it is visible from the sky. It will only be a matter of time before others come in search of their power. It’s strong, Vradhu. More potent and intoxicating than anything I’ve ever seen.” Even now, he could feel Esania’s life-force, and the beast in him wanted to go to her and clamp his hand around her neck and drink until he was filled to the brim with her power.
With great effort, he kept the madness in check.
At least, he tried. His cock was hard again. This had been happening a lot of late. He was going to have to do something about it soon, or there would be problems. “Decide for yourself.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Go, Vradhu. Discuss with your pack if you must. You know where to find me.”
“I hear you, Lightbringer. Meanwhile, your Naaga are really multiplying like fucking veppits. We, would appreciate if you could do something about that. Think of it as a way to court our trust. You will hear from us soon, Overlord.” The Vradhu gave a mocking bow before making a subtle sign with his left hand. Imril heard faint rustles of movement all throughout the dense, shadowy thicket. Vradhu. He was surrounded, but he couldn’t see them, and he couldn’t sense them. Vradhu males didn’t give off vir like their female counterparts. Their innate energy was too tightly tethered to their bodies.
The Vradhu Lord disappeared, making barely a sound as he melded with the shadows.
Vradhu were exceptionally good at hiding. Humans, not so much.
That reminded him. They had to leave, now. He couldn’t leave the eyrie unguarded for too long. Rau had strict instructions to take Sara into Kunlo’s underground stronghold at the first sign of danger, but even the thick stone barriers and doubl
e-sealed doors would not hold potential invaders off for long, especially if they were in possession of Drakhin-tech.
“Esania,” he snapped, turning around.
He came face-to-face with a glaring human, her brilliant green eyes blazing. Furious, she put her hands on her hips. “They’re leaving? What did you tell them?”
The full force of her anger washed over him, and for the first time, he saw her; the real her. She, who was better at hiding her thoughts than a cynical old Drakhin lord, who could make him second-guess himself even when her vir was tinged with emotion… Now she faced him with rage and betrayal writ large across her face.
She did not speak Vradhu. She wouldn’t have understood the importance of what he’d just discussed with the Clan Lord. She did not understand their culture. Vradhu-Drakhin relations were complicated. The Vradhu had their own customs and laws, and the purple-skinned warriors were notoriously stubborn and secretive.
And even though she was wrong about him, her reaction disturbed him greatly. He did not like her mistrust, her disappointment.
He did not like it when she looked at him like that.
“You’d better have a good explanation for me, Drakhin.” Her vir was tinged with anger and confusion, but not a shred of fear. She’d eaten and rested before they left the eyrie, and she was almost back to full strength.
She was radiant.
His cock stiffened.
Za’s burning hells, what he wanted to do to her.
“Vradhu have their own minds,” he slowly, removing his helm as he walked toward her. “They can’t be convinced or coerced or forced. I have told the Clan Lord exactly what he needs to know.”
“You threatened him.”
“He threw a war-spear at you.” Imril’s voice grew cold as he remembered how close he’d been to killing the insolent wretch.
“Maki wouldn’t hurt me. I’ve seen him in action. His aim is perfect. He’s an exceptional hunter. It was a warning shot, nothing more.”
“Oh?” Energy flared from his fingertips as a sliver of jealousy entered his heart. He did not like it when she praised another male. He wanted to go after that cursed Maki and burn him to ashes.