by Scott Baron
“Will you not answer me?” he asked. “I feel this is a fair and just proposition I make.”
The enormous, red Zomoki turned her head from him and lay as if going to sleep. The visla quickly became enraged.
“You will look at me when I address you!” he shouted, then muttered a guttural spell.
The shock surged through the collar around Ara’s neck and she spun on him and spread her wings, eyes blazing with anger. The scales around the glowing, golden orbs as they looked at him with fury seemed fresher, somehow, and her renewed power startled the visla. He had expected a weakened Zomoki, which she was, but not nearly as weak as he had anticipated.
Quickly, he spat out a half dozen of his strongest spells, knocking her back to the ground. Her collar glowed brightly, the effort Maktan was forced to expend charging the metal.
Ara howled from the pain, but stayed down. Gradually, the collar returned to its normal, dull glow.
“You would do well not to test me, Zomoki,” the visla shouted. “I am Yoral Maktan, High Visla of Merdova, and protector of the Coromar system. I am your owner, beast, and you would do well to know your place.”
Maktan quickly uttered a handful of restraining spells, further restricting the creature within the enclosure. They would fade by morning, but for the moment, Ara could not so much as rise to her full height. It would be an uncomfortable night, held low like that.
But she had spent much time deep within caves over the years and had learned to accept the confining spaces as a necessary discomfort required to protect herself when she needed to enter the deep sleep to restore herself. This, she reasoned, was not so dissimilar.
Ara hunkered down as best she could, and once the visla had vacated the premises, closed her eyes and slid into a restless slumber.
Chapter Twenty-One
By the time the rumors of the visla’s meeting with members of the Council of Twenty, and his heated encounter with the Zomoki reached his ears, Charlie was already well aware of Maktan’s intentions.
First thing in the morning, as he and Tuktuk were partaking of coffee and pastry in their daily routine, Visla Maktan made a rare appearance in the kitchens. Something that seemed to have become far more frequent ever since the arrival of his new gladiator slave.
“Visla!” a young assistant chef gasped. “It is an honor to have you visit us down here. We didn’t know you would be coming. What can we make you? Would you like a pastry, fresh from the oven?”
“I am looking for Charlie,” he replied. “He was not in his room, but I understand he makes a habit of visiting the kitchen.”
“Ah, yes, Visla. Charlie and Tuktuk have coffee together every morning to start the day.”
“My daughter told me of this ‘coffee’ he has been producing. Apparently, it has become quite popular among the staff.”
“Yes, Visla. It is a somewhat bitter-flavored beverage, but it does sharpen the mind a bit and boosts productivity.”
“Well, then. While I do not necessarily approve, I will not stop him from his hobby, so long as it helps increase efficiency.”
“Would you like to try a cup? There is a fresh pot.”
The powerful wizard had heard the effect it had on Malalia, making her magic boost for a short while. It was an artificial means of boosting one’s power, it seemed, and as such, he was hesitant to use it. Relying on such tricks was unbecoming a visla. However, curiosity eventually won him over.
“A small taste, yes,” he replied.
Moments later, a cup of the steaming liquid warmed his hands. The aroma was unusual, but not entirely unpleasant. The visla muttered his standard spell, recited before every meal since as long as he could remember. No poisons or enchantments lay in the cup. Just a murky, hot liquid.
He took a sip.
“Not an entirely bad flavor,” he noted. He drank more, waiting for something to happen.
Nothing did.
“I thought this was supposed to boost one’s magic. I feel nothing.”
“It affects everyone differently, Visla,” the young assistant said apologetically. “Perhaps it is because you are already so very powerful that this has no effect.”
“Perhaps,” Maktan replied, placing the cup on the counter. “Now, where is Charlie?”
The slightest of breezes shifted around them, but Charlie and Tuktuk didn’t mind as they chatted on the low bench around the side of the building not far from the kitchen door.
“So, her mother was sold to another household? That doesn’t seem right,” Charlie said, sipping from his mug. The cool morning air made visible tendrils of steam in the early sun’s rays.
“Yes. From what I gather, Hertzall was beside himself for quite a while. He’s a bit of a loner, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, so when he and his wife met and started a family, it was something of a miracle for the man. I mean, to assume you’d spend your life alone, then suddenly be sharing it with another person?”
“For someone who’s that much of an introvert, she must have been something special.”
“Obviously, I never met her, but from what Magda has told me, she was the perfect match for him, though you wouldn’t guess it from meeting her.”
“Why not?”
Tuktuk chuckled. “You know how outgoing Magda is?”
“Yeah. She’s a bit of a whirlwind.”
“Indeed,” he replied with a happy grin. “Well, let’s just say that woman made Magda look like a quiet maid-in-waiting.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. But for whatever reason, she and Hertzall fell for one another. She knew when he needed to be pulled into social settings, but never forced him. Likewise, she was perfectly content to leave him to his own devices for days at a time, giving him solitude he needed to recharge, while taking those times to visit her friends and socialize. It was an odd match, but it worked.”
“So how old was Leila when her mother was sold off?”
“I’m not sure exactly. Pretty young. I could ask Magda if you like.”
“No, that’s fine. I was just curious, is all.”
“Oh?” his blue friend asked with a curious grin. “And here I thought you and Malalia might have something brewing.”
“The visla’s daughter? Something tells me that would not end well,” Charlie replied.
The door behind them swung open, and the men turned as one, quickly scrambling to their feet when they realized who their visitor was.
“Visla Maktan,” Tuktuk blurted. “I was not expecting you. Is everything all right? Were the late-night snacks I prepared not to your liking?”
“No, that was all fine, Tuktuk. Well done on those. No, I just wanted to speak with Charlie a moment.” He put his hand on the gladiator’s shoulder. “Come, walk with me.”
Charlie and Tuktuk shared a look, then he followed the wizard out onto a path around the grounds. When they were clear of earshot of the building, the visla turned to Charlie.
“I want to ask you a question,” he began. “And I want you to answer freely.”
“Of course,” he replied.
“Good. And I hope you don’t hold a grudge for your punishment.”
“No. I understand order needs to be kept, and I was out of line. I should have sought your approval first. I just thought perhaps I could be of more use to you if I had my equipment. I am sorry I disappointed you.”
“Clouds passing in the sky, Charlie. Done and gone.”
“I am glad to hear that, Visla. Now, what can I help you with?”
The powerful man paused, appearing to struggle for the right words. Charlie wasn’t buying the act for a second.
He’s rehearsed this dozens of times, I bet. Down to the little stammer.
“Charlie, I am faced with a bit of a dilemma,” he began. “You see, there are forces at work. Bad forces, who wish to see our society among the many hundreds of civilized systems shatter.”
“Hundreds?” he asked. “I didn’t realize there were quite that many.”
&nb
sp; “Yes,” Maktan replied. “The Council of Twenty are the representatives of the twenty ruling systems. We keep the order among the five hundred-plus other systems, providing them stability and rule.”
“Five hundred inhabited systems,” Charlie marveled.
“Out of billions of uninhabited ones,” Maktan noted. “Intelligent life is rare. Magic-bearing life is even rarer. It is with this that I need your assistance. We are facing a difficult time, and we vislas only have so much power we can divert to the common good. We have our own systems to watch over, you see.”
“And these five hundred others are spreading you thin.”
“Precisely.”
“I can see how that would be exhausting, to say the least.”
“It is, Charlie. But you can help me help them.”
“I’m just a non-magical human from a galaxy far, far away. I have no powers.”
“No, you do not. But you seemed to be able to tap into something that could make up for your shortcomings.”
Here it comes, Charlie groaned inside.
“You have ridden a Zomoki. The very one you are now cleaning up after, in fact.”
“But that was just a fluke. Pure survival instinct in the heat of a bout. I have no idea what happened,” he lied.
“Nevertheless, you caused the beast to reveal its power. Zomoki with more than a middling amount of magic are incredibly rare, and I believe this one to be exceptionally powerful. And you connected somehow. Made her use that power. Now I want you to do the same for me. To give me a means to harness that magic within her. To use it for the betterment of all of the systems under my guidance.”
“I wish I could help you, but it’s all I can do just to keep her from eating me when I clean out her enclosure. I mean, to try and get close to her? I don’t think I could do it.”
A vein throbbed on the side of the wizard’s head, but he kept his displeasure under wraps. “I see,” he said calmly. “Well, I’d like you to try to reconnect with the beast if you can, regardless. Maybe we will get lucky.”
“I’ll see what I can do, but please, don’t get your hopes up. I don’t think that Zomoki wants to share her power with anyone, especially not the gladiator who got her shocked from the air and sent here.”
“Yes, I suppose you have a point,” Maktan said, not entirely believing his slave. “Well, thank you for the chat, Charlie. I have things to attend now. I assume you know your way back to the kitchen from here.”
“I do.”
“Very well. When you see Leila this afternoon, please tell her I wish to speak with her about the Zomoki.”
“I will be sure to do so.”
Charlie turned and trotted back toward the kitchen, while the wizard walked his grounds, moving deeper into a nearby grove of trees. His anger crackled on his skin, a simmering frustration.
“Hokta!” he cursed in a tiny fit of pique, his ire killing the nearest tree outright. Hertzall would be perplexed at the lone casualty in the grove, but the man was good at his job and kept the grounds pristine. There would be no trace of it by morning.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“That was odd,” Tuktuk commented as Charlie came in through the kitchen’s back door. “The visla doesn’t usually pal around with the help, you know.”
“I think he just wanted to get some information from me,” Charlie replied. “He seems to think I’m somehow connected with the drag––Zomoki.”
“You did fly the beast.”
“By total accident. And now he thinks I can help him somehow control her. It’s nuts.”
“Maybe, but you need to be careful, Charlie. The visla is a very powerful man, and you’re on his good side at the moment, despite what you may think after he sent you to clean the pens. If you were truly on his bad side, life under his rule could be quite difficult.”
“I realize that. Fortunately for me, I simply don’t have what he wants and told him as much.”
“But does he accept that?”
“I hope so, Tuk. If not, it’s gonna be a long week,” Charlie said with a resigned sigh.
He then headed up to his room to change into attire more fitting for cleaning up after all manner of beasts. Namely, clothes he wouldn’t mind burning later if need be.
He had only just ascended the stairs when another unexpected visitor breezed into the kitchen.
“Denna Maktan. It is a pleasant surprise to have you grace the kitchen with your presence. To what do we owe this honor?” Tuktuk said, though he had a pretty good idea what the answer would be.
“Tuktuk, I have come to ask a favor of Charlie, the new addition to Father’s staff. Have you seen him? I understand he’s made your morning pastry something of a routine.”
“Ah, yes. He was just here. Shall I send one of the staff to fetch him for you?”
“He’s in his room?”
“Yes, Denna.”
“Then I’ll go see him there. It shouldn’t take long.”
She swept out of the kitchen and into the hallway, her next destination: Charlie’s room.
“Oh, my poor friend. What ever have you gotten yourself into?”
“Hang on a sec!” Charlie called out as he slid his other leg into his pants and padded over to his door. “What is it? I’m getting––” He opened the door, shirtless. “Oh, Malalia. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“How could you? I only just decided it myself,” she said brightly.
“Just give me a moment. I’m almost ready for work.”
“I’ll keep you company,” she said, pushing her way past him into his room.
“Uh…” Charlie didn’t quite know what to say. “What if your father hears you were down socializing with the help?”
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” she said with a grin that contained more than a little innuendo.
Charlie quickly slipped into his tunic, while the daughter of the most powerful visla in the system watched. “Here, let me help,” she said, taking the belt from his bed and leaning in close, sliding it around his waist.
“I can get that.”
“No, really, I don’t mind,” she replied, slowly sliding the length of leather through the loops on his pants. “Charlie, I was meaning to ask you the other day, do you think you could maybe take me up for a flight on the Zomoki? It would be so exhilarating, and I’d be very, very appreciative.”
She quietly whispered a little spell, making his skin tingle every time she brushed against him. It was distracting, to say the least.
“Malalia, I wish I could help you out, really, but I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”
“I’m sure I’d be safe with you protecting me,” she said, squeezing his arm.
Okay, now she really is laying it on a little thick. The awareness of her wiles didn’t lessen their involuntary effects on his body, however.
“The thing is, I am the guy who cleans up Zomoki poop now. Beyond that, I really don’t interact with the thing. I mean, maybe Leila could help. She’s the one in charge of it,” he said pulling away from her and settling into a chair to slip into his boots.
“But I wanted you to do it,” she said, enjoying her double entendre a bit too much.
Charlie desperately needed to get out of there before he actually did wind up in trouble with her father.
“I’m sorry, Malalia, but I really don’t have any information of use to you. But if I should somehow happen to find a way to control the beast, you’ll be the first person I tell.”
“Thank you, Charlie. I do appreciate it,” she said, hiding her displeasure moderately well.
“Look, I’d love to chat with you further, but your father really will be upset if I don’t perform my duties. He made that pretty clear the other night.”
“Oh, don’t worry about him,” she said.
“You’re his daughter, but I’m just his slave. I think it would be wise if I didn’t push my luck.”
“Very well,” she said, walking for the door. “But Charlie? Please, do s
ee if you can gain some control over the Zomoki. I do so want to ride it, and I’d do anything to have that beast between my legs.”
He struggled not to react.
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” she said, then breezed out of his room as easily as she had come in.
Charlie felt his blood pressure start to drop.
“Dear Lord, that woman is a handful.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Oh, sonofa––” Charlie groaned as he scraped bundabist shit from his boot. “Seriously? Right inside the gate? I swear, you little bastards are trying to boobytrap the place on me.”
The animals had taken a liking to Charlie, and several nudged their way closer, hoping for scratches behind their ears where their armored plates didn’t cover. They were rambunctious, and certainly capable of sizable damage––though unintentionally––and Charlie found himself growing fond of the enormous beasts, despite the stinking mess on his boot.
“Not quite man’s best friend,” he grumbled with a chuckle. “But I suppose you’ll do in a pinch.”
He recited the cleaning spell out loud for the largest pile of bundabist poop, but then cast the spell again, silently and from within his head, for a much smaller mess. He wasn’t proficient by any means, but Ara’s pointers on the intent of the user more than the words themselves had really helped him on the way.
The smaller pile vanished until he recited the spell to make it join the large pile in the large disposal bin outside of the enclosure. From there, he would make the rounds of the other pens, cages, and enclosures until he had accumulated an admirable quantity of feces from a few dozen species.
The gladiator in him hated the job, but the engineer and scientist in him found it rather fascinating. Not the poop, mind you, but the interaction with so many diverse animals, every one of which no one on his home planet had ever seen before.