by J. J. Green
“Ugh.” She shuddered. She didn’t know exactly what the guard meant by ‘infest family’ but it sounded bad, whatever it was. “Please apologize to your king for me. Say I’m really sorry, I need more time.”
The guard didn’t move for some moments, then the light shifted again and the creature was gone.
Parthenia flopped down and picked up the pieces of fibrous material again. Doggedly, she rubbed them together over the shredded fibers in the depression. The guard had tried to bring her everything she’d asked for. The container seemed to be fashioned from a shell and the opening was a little too narrow, but it would suffice; the water was so murky she hadn’t dared to drink it yet, though she was dreadfully thirsty, the metal—how did the Regians have metal if they couldn’t understand the concept of fire?—the metal was perfect: fine filings.
Perhaps the only problem was that the aliens didn’t know the word ‘fire’. They definitely appeared to struggle to understand her in other things she’d said to them.
She stopped rubbing and held up the objects in her hands for inspection. Each about the size of her fist, they were flat on one side and tangled with something like bristles on the other. The inner surfaces had worn smooth from friction. At first, she’d thought they might be a kind of root from a tree or shrub, but now she wasn’t at all confident the material was wood.
Recalling her glimpse of the landscape she’d seen before, she wouldn’t have been surprised if no trees grew on the Regian planet. She hadn’t seen any vegetation, and the sky had been thick with dark clouds. Perhaps she’d arrived there in the evening but she had a feeling the place was always like that. On the Bathsheba, the aliens had set the lights to low levels, which must have been how they felt most comfortable.
If their world didn’t contain any wood then her efforts were hopeless. She would never make elixir, never Cast for the king, and her family would be ‘infested’, whatever that meant. She would probably be infested too.
Parthenia put down the pieces of material she was holding and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to retain the remaining warmth in her body. She sniffed as thin mucus threatened to drip from her nose.
If she couldn’t Cast, perhaps there was another answer to her predicament.
She mentally went over what she knew.
When the bag had been taken off her head, the first sight to greet her was a bloated creature that looked nothing like the other Regians. Its thick, segmented body lay directly on the floor of the chamber, about two meters wide and tall and an unknown length as she’d been unable to see the end of it. If the creature had legs, they were clearly not substantial enough to bear its weight.
At one of his sides, Regians were collecting small, egg-shaped objects the alien seemed to be producing from somewhere in its large bulk.
The chamber had been as dark as everywhere else, lit only by phosphorescent spots on the ceiling. The walls were sleek and dark, while the floor was soft and damp, like thick, deep, leaf mold in an old forest.
She’d been too terrified to speak at first, but as the silence surrounding her grew, she understood that the aliens expected her to say something.
What should she say? If she said the wrong thing she might immediately be hauled off to a Regian kitchen.
Bizarrely, the lessons in diplomacy and oratory she’d taken while growing up on Ithiya came to the forefront of her mind. She stood up slowly, watching for signs from the Regians surrounding her that her behavior was acceptable. When she was upright, she bowed.
“My name is Parthenia.”
Alien. Host. Special. Alien. Creature. King. Perform. Illusion. Special. Creature. Power.
She touched her ear comm. The deluge of words was overwhelming. “Please, just one of you speak. I can’t understand you.”
King. I king. Alien.
King? The creature looked the least like any king she could have imagined.
She assumed the ‘alien’ was her. She bowed again. “I am very pleased to meet you, king.”
Special illusion. Creature. Power.
“It is not an illusion, er…your Majesty. I do have a special power, which I would be happy to offer in your service.”
Serving the king of the Regians was the last thing she wanted to do, but some dissembling could buy her the time and opportunity she needed to rescue the people the aliens had captured.
Power. Show. Ability. Perform. Alien.
“I can’t do it without elixir. If you will allow me to make the liquid I need, I will demonstrate my power.”
Liquid. Bring. Power.
“Yes, the liquid helps to give me my power.”
Bring. Liquid. Ability.
A moment later something poked her back. A Regian was standing behind her carrying a bowl filled with an opaque fluid that might have been water.
“No, not water,” she said to the king. “I need elixir. Only I can make it, if you can give me…”
She’d told the creature everything she needed, but it appeared her requests would take some time to fulfill, because the Regians had removed her from her audience with the king and taken her to the pit.
Along the way, she’d seen parts of the habitation. The aliens lived underground, which wasn’t surprising considering the barren hostility of life on the surface. The tough, chitinous substance that comprised the walls and ceiling in the king’s chamber was the material of choice for the low, windowless rooms that lined the passages. The creatures also seemed to favor the soft, dank floors everywhere she passed. Perhaps it was comfortable for their pincered feet.
The end to her journey, when it had come, had been abrupt and unexpected. One moment she’d been walking down a dimly lit thoroughfare, flanked by two Regians on each side, and the next, one of them had sharply shoved her and she’d found herself falling down a near-vertical slope.
In the poor light conditions she hadn’t noticed the hole in the ground she’d been pushed into. She had a split second to fear the impact at the bottom before she hit it, though the soft landing and low gravity meant she was unhurt. After a few moments, her eyes adjusted to the even lower level of light, and she’d seen she was basically in a hole in the ground, about three meters wide.
There was nothing for her to sit or lie on, no food and no water. The opening to the shaft she’d fallen down was beyond her reach, though the shaft itself was only a couple of meters long.
Summing up her situation, it didn’t look good. She wasn’t ever going to be able to make elixir. Eventually, the king’s patience would run out, and her family would be ‘infested’.
She had to try something else, and she had to act fast.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Atoi’s words were echoing in Carina’s head: Easy for you to say. The Regians will keep you all alive. The rest of us will be dishes on the menu.
Her friend was right, of course.
The powers she’d often considered as much of a disadvantage as a benefit, the ability that made mages a target for exploitation, could be the very thing to save her and her family. But the realization brought her little joy. The men and women of the Black Dogs had always been more than hired mercenaries to her. She’d grown from a kid to a woman among them, and, though they’d first fought for her because they were being paid, the lines of her relationship with them had softened since then. They’d joined her on the epic journey across the galaxy. They were no longer employees but companions.
She couldn’t allow them to come to harm on the Regians’ planet. When she figured out a way to escape, she wouldn’t be leaving unless she could bring every single merc with her.
She’d slumped against the side of the box that the aliens had confined her in. It was the most comfortable position she could find in the small cube. From the movements she’d felt, she guessed she’d arrived on the aliens’ world, and it was only a matter of time until—
One side of the box fell open, and a cold, damp, gust of air blew in. Carina shivered and peered out into darkness. She’d ex
pected to see something brighter than the pitch black of the box’s interior, but if it hadn’t been for the sound of the side falling and the fresh breeze, she wouldn’t have known what had happened. She guessed it was nighttime and cloudy. Her body felt light, and she recalled the planet’s low gravity.
The lid of the box lifted and the remaining sides collapsed.
She shivered. The chill wind was almost a gale, and she couldn’t see a thing.
She could hear stuff, though: the familiar rustle of Regians’ carapaces in contact with each other.
Pincers plucked at her clothes, encouraging her to rise.
“You can talk to me,” she said. “I can understand you.”
Neither Lomang nor Mezban had thought to take the translator from her, either due to their stupidity or because they didn’t think they would need it. She guessed they were regretting the omission now. Or maybe not. Maybe it was better to not hear how your captors planned to fricassee you.
No eyes. No see. No eyes. No see.
“Dammit. You want me to wear the stupid bag? Go ahead. Put it back on me. I’m as good as blind right now anyway.”
Removing the bag had been the first thing she’d done after the creatures had forced her into the box. The Regians clearly didn’t want her to see their ship or wherever they planned to take her now.
The small sack was thrust over her head, and the aliens began to prod her back.
“Okay. I’m moving, see?”
She shuffled forward, feeling with her toes for unevenness and obstacles. At the same time, she strained her ears, listening for sounds of the Regians’ other captives—her family, in particular. The kids would be terrified, though Parthenia would be able to provide some comfort and help to keep them safe.
What would she do without her sister? She hoped she’d finally healed the rift between them.
Suddenly, the ground disappeared from beneath her feet and she plummeted.
She screamed, but her cry was cut off as she hit a soft surface, falling quickly to her knees and then onto her side.
Pincers poked her body. She heard a snip, and her hands were free.
Instantly, she ripped the bag from her head, just in time to see the door to her new confinement close.
Here, there was light, and odor—a terrible odor.
She jumped up and ran to the grid that separated her from her surroundings. The Regian who had cut through the binding around her wrists and closed her cage door was leaving.
She could see no other aliens in the place, only humans.
Clutching the wires in horror and dismay, Carina’s gaze roved over the scene, her mind almost unable to take in what she was seeing.
Hundreds of people lay on the ground, under a strange pale green light emitted by some kind of phosphorescent plant on the ceiling. The people were unclothed and lying face upward, alive but barely moving. The reason for their position was obvious: each person had a pillow-shaped object fixed to their stomach. Strings of these hard, oblong cases hung from the ceiling to the floor.
The sight sparked a flashback. She’d seen the strings before, in the Bathsheba’s viewing dome, when she and Parthenia had gone there to plant the bomb.
What were they? Why had the Regians stuck them to the people’s stomachs?
She reached through the metal grid. “Hey!” she called to the nearest person, who lay only a few meters away. “Hey! Can you hear me?”
The woman’s eyes flickered and her mouth moved but no sounds came out.
Then Carina saw the source of the sickening stench. Only the people nearest to her were alive. Beyond them, in the center of the underground space, lay corpses. Blackened and rotting, some almost skeletal, they also carried the Regians’ cases on their stomachs, though these cases had softened and collapsed.
She dropped to her knees, and tears of dismay and pity filled her eyes. This was what happened to the people the Regians took from the poor settlements they raided. To be eaten would at least be a quick death, not this dreadful torture.
In happier times, as a child, she’d loved to study insects. She’d found everything about them fascinating: what they ate, the homes they built for themselves, how they reproduced, and their life cycles. An idea of what was happening to the people before her forced its way into her stricken mind, and she turned to one side and vomited.
A scream cut through the torment of her thoughts.
The sound abruptly stopped, and she heard a dull, soft thump.
Someone else had fallen into the chamber.
She heard a child weeping.
“Who’s that?” she called out. “Is that you, Darius? Nahla?”
The sobs stopped. “Carina?” Oriana replied. “You’re here too? Ugh, what’s that awful smell?”
It was difficult to see in the dim light, but from the direction of her voice Oriana appeared to have been dropped into a cell on the other side of the chamber.
“Yes. I’m opposite you, I think,” she said. “Oriana, do you have a bag over your head? If you do, don’t take it off.”
What could she tell her sister to explain why? She had to prevent her from seeing the heart-wrenching, dreadful spectacle of the Regians’ other human captives.
“Huh?”
“Just don’t take the bag off!”
“Uh, uh…” Oriana began to hyperventilate. Carina could hear her great whoops of breath across the chamber.
“It’s horrible, horrible!” she said after a minute, when she seemed to get over her shock a little. “Carina, what’s happening to those poor people?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, though she thought she did. “Try not to look at them. I don’t think there’s anything we can do to help them.”
Ferne arrived next, and Carina went through the same process with her brother.
When Darius and Nahla were dropped into the chamber, she thought she might have better success at persuading them to leave their bags on but she didn’t. The youngest children also saw the horror.
As far as she could tell, her brothers and sisters were confined at roughly equal distances apart around the circular space. To her right and left stood cells like hers, empty but with the doors in the metal grid walls open. The Regians seemed to want to keep the mages as far apart as they could.
Nahla was the last to arrive. After Carina had done her best to calm her little sister, she waited for the expected fifth sibling, but she didn’t arrive.
Finally, she asked, “When was the last time you saw Parthenia?”
Oriana replied, “We haven’t seen her for a long time. The soldiers took her right after they took you.”
“You don’t know what happened to her?”
“No,” said Ferne. “We all came here together, but not Parthenia. We don’t know where she is.”
“What?!”
Shit.
Where was the oldest of her sisters?
Chapter Thirty-Four
Parthenia’s heart drummed against her breastbone as she contemplated what she was about to do. Time was running out fast. The guard could come back any minute, and if she was caught the Regians would put her somewhere from which she had zero prospect of escape.
She had to move.
But her limbs seemed frozen.
Hot blood generated by fear had driven out the intense chill that had invaded her body, and her skin was slick with sweat.
“I’m going to do it,” she murmured. “I will do it.”
Still, she remained motionless.
“Now. I’m doing it now!”
Somehow, she forced her reluctant arm to reach out. She dug her fingers into the wall and pulled out a large chunk. Like the floor, the material felt very soft and damp.
She dropped the chunk and pulled out another handful with her other hand.
Casting the stuff aside, she grabbed the edges of the hole she’d made and pulled them away, widening the gap. It had to be at least as wide as her.
What would come next made her gasp with
trepidation, but now that she’d begun, she knew she wouldn’t stop. Not unless she died in her attempt.
She ripped into the wall, yanking out thick pieces and creating a pile on the floor. When the hole was deep and wide enough, she would be able to stand on the pile to climb into the hole. From then on, she only had to dig, dig upward, all the way to the surface, dropping the humus below her.
Within a minute, she’d made a deep hole and she was struggling to reach the top of it to pull out more material. She tried standing on the pile, but it squashed down nearly flat under her weight.
Darn it!
Parthenia jumped to reach further and succeeded in deepening the hole, but soon she was stymied again.
It wasn’t going to work, not this way.
She took a break, panting, as she tried to figure out a solution.
Above her, the steady, dull light dimmed.
She held her breath. Had the guard come back?
But the light returned to its usual subdued level. It had only been something passing above—another Regian.
What would she do if she was spotted after she escaped?
Parthenia shook her head. She would have to work that out later.
The tunnel she was digging was too perpendicular, she realized. She had to make it run at more of an angle. It meant more digging, which would take more time, but she had no choice.
Thrusting her already sore hands into the wall, she began to tear at its lower surface, creating a deeper slope. As soon as there was sufficient room, she climbed inside, and continued to extend the hole.
Material built up behind her, which she thrust away with her feet. The thought of closing the opening to the pit horrified her, though she knew it would be inevitable.
To keep her mind off the many grim scenarios that could result from her efforts, she thought about Carina and their siblings. She hoped they were all still okay, and that she would find them soon after she escaped.
When concern for her family also threatened her composure, she turned her mind to Kamil. She’d only just begun to get to know him but she liked him a lot, and he seemed to really like her too.