The Xillian Trilogy (The Xillian Rebellion)

by Maia Tanith

  He reminds me of Taark, but younger, and softer. He hasn’t had years to build up his defenses and his hard edges. In the days I have been with Taark, he’s revealed less of his emotions than this young claw-man has in minutes.

  “How did you get to be here?” I ask gently.

  “I was in training to join the army. I had one year left of it. We were sent out to quell skirmishes on some mining planet. I was ordered to kill someone. I couldn’t do it.” He looks behind me while he talks. “I was punished by whipping, and told I’d have to kill two people next time, or risk the Emperor finding out I’d disobeyed orders. Everyone knows what happens if he punishes you.”

  “He kills you?”

  “No, much worse. He will kill your family first, maybe your pack as well. He’ll burn your house or your business down. Maybe, if he’s feeling generous, he’ll send you to the Games. Or else you simply disappear. I knew I wouldn’t survive in the Games.” He smiles at me now. “Someone helped me to escape, someone who knew Zev and sympathized with his cause. So I was smuggled here, and I’ve been here ever since.”

  “The Emperor sounds like a right piece of work.” I think about Earth, and some of the horrific stories I’d heard of rulers in countries that I’d never been to. When I go back there, I am going to do something more meaningful with my life, I think. Such stories had never affected me before. I have, until the whole kidnapping saga, had a very uneventful, safe and sheltered life. It’s taken me my whole twenty-five years to realize that I’m one of the few lucky ones. Even in this planet, wherever it is we happen to be in the galaxy, having a safe upbringing is also only for a lucky few.

  “He’s evil,” Daem agrees.

  We sit in silence for a few minutes. I wonder about Taark’s background now. Why he is so guarded, so defensive. I wonder what his life was like before he was taken to the cells and paired with me to fight. Did he have a family? I had not asked him before, and now I wonder why not. I’d thought about it at first.

  Maybe it’s because I didn’t want to know the answer. I don’t want to know if he has a wife or a mate or whatever they call it here. Even though I am going to be leaving him. For Earth—where his kind would be caught by a circus and parading around for show. Or worse—cut open by scientists, used as a secret weapon for the government.

  I shudder. No, Earth would not be kind to him.

  Daem sees me shudder. He’s been watching me, openly. If it were anyone else be sitting and staring at me so intently, it would feel weird. I can feel his curiosity though. He’s like an inquisitive kitten. Harmless. “Are you okay?” he asks. “It’s nearly time for another drink.”

  I grit my teeth as he hands me another obsidian mug full of the foul liquid. This time I don’t stop to taste it but gulp it down in two swigs. If I used to be able to down a pint of beer in my college days 5.6 seconds, then I can bloody well drink this mud.

  “See, not so bad. You’ll enjoy the taste by the end of the day,” he says, taking the empty mug from my hands.

  “Don’t count on it,” I growl back. Obviously he’s not finding me as scary as before, because he doesn’t flinch this time, and gives me a wide smile instead. I’m reminded of a puppy dog, who stares at you with his tongue out and wagging his tail. No wonder he couldn’t kill anyone. He’s a giant marshmallow with claws.

  “Do you want to see your mate now?” he asks me.

  I assume he means Taark. My heart leaps a little. “Yes, yes please. Uh, we’re not mates though,” I reply. “He’s not even my boyfriend or anything.” What are we really? Would he call me his girlfriend? Could it be called that here anyway? I remind myself I am mad at him for not taking me home, for not getting me on the ship with the lizard women. Still, nothing would be better right now then to feel his arms wrap around me and tell me that I’ll be okay.

  Daem isn’t noticing my awkwardness. “I’ll bring him back. He should have finished his interrogation now.”

  “Interrogation? They’re not hurting him, are they?”

  The door closes behind him, cutting off his reply.

  I sit still for barely ten seconds before I push myself out of the bed. I’ve got to find Taark.

  The word interrogation has left a bitter taste in my mouth. Daem seems so sweet, but the rest of them? If they are rebelling against the Emperor and they think Taark is a spy—I can’t even think it.

  Instead I stumble to the door and let myself out into the hallway. I feel like shit. My shoulder throbs painfully. They claw-men have at least had the decency to dress me in a sort of loose slip, like a sleeveless dress. It’s the first piece of clothing I have been allowed to wear since I came to this godforsaken planet.

  Not to mention someone has washed me.

  I hope it wasn’t Daem. Ugh. Not something to dwell on.

  I pad down the hallway. It’s all rock—the walls, the ground, the ceiling. It’s lit by weird, slightly blue-tinged lights stuck along the hallway above head height. The air feels cold and damp outside my room, and the hairs on my arms raise into little goose pimples.

  I pass an open door and peek inside. The small room is stacked floor to ceiling with boxes of medical supplies. I can see rolls of bandages in one corner, and small vials of liquid perch on top of blankets. The other boxes have labels on the in a script I can’t read. I must be in a hospital wing of sorts.

  What am I doing poking around a storeroom when Taark could be in danger?

  I turn back out to the hallway and start jogging. It’s painful. As my feet hit the ground, little waves of burning pain roll over my shoulder.

  I turn a corner and the hallway branches into two identical looking passageways. I’ve got a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right. I lift my finger and count, eeny, meeny, miny, mo. It’s the only way I’ve ever been able to make a decision. Catch a tiger by its toe. If it squeals, let it go, eeny meeny miny mo. I end up facing the left-hand corridor and step into it.

  “Hey, human girl! Where are you going?” Daem’s voice startles me and I whirl around, smacking my injured shoulder into the hallway wall. The pain is so intense that I fall onto my knees.

  He’s there in a heartbeat, lifting me back onto my feet. He keeps his hands on me as he steadies me. “Have you got the fever? Why are you out of bed?”

  “I needed to find Taark. To make sure he’s okay,” I mumble back, embarrassed at my fall, and even more so at being caught sneaking around.

  “I was coming to check on you. Looks like he has it under control.” Taark’s deep voice sends a shiver down my spine. He steps out from behind Daem. I hadn’t even seen him as I fell over.

  “Taark,” I say, and go to step towards him. He walks forward and pushes Daem out of the way. “I can look after her,” he growls, and scoops me up into his arms, squeezing my tightly. Being close to him, feeling his muscled body against mine, would normally make me feel dizzy, but for the fact he’s acting like I’m an inanimate object that he needs to take from someone. And I don’t like being treated like a piece of property.

  “Excuse me,” I say. “I’m perfectly capable of walking myself.”

  “We need to get you back into bed. You’re hurt,” he says as he strides off down the corridor with me flailing in his arms. “Where is her room?” he barks at Daem.

  Daem hurries past us and leads the way, shooting offended looks back at us which Taark ignores.

  “Excuse me, Taark,” I wiggle in his arms. “Put me down.”

  He ignores me.

  “Put me DOWN,” I say again, in my most ‘don’t mess with me, boy’ tone.

  He stops and looks down at me, then releases his grip.

  I jump down onto the ground, rubbing my waist with one hand. All my excitement at seeing him again has disintegrated. “What is gotten into you? It’s my shoulder that’s hurt, not my legs. I can bloody well walk by myself. You’ve just given me more bruises.”

  He shrugs and shoots a glare at Daem. “I don’t like to see another man touching you. He should keep his ha
nds to himself. And you shouldn’t let him touch you.”

  I stand up straight and put my hands on my hips. “I’m not a piece of property,” I hiss. “And for your information he hasn’t touched me once, except just then when I fell over. He’s been helping me recover from being shot. He’s been too busy helping me to not die to be touching me.”

  Taark eyes the slip I’m wearing. “Did he help you into that thing, too?” he growls back. It goes unspoken but I know he is thinking about the fact that when he saw me last, I was filthy, and now I am clean as a whistle. Someone bathed me too.

  I blush, but inside I am still mad. He has no cause to bring this up. For me to nearly die, and wake up in God knows where without him, then finally see him again only to be yelled at because he is jealous?

  “I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter. The point is, I wouldn’t have needed someone to dress me if I hadn’t been shot. I’d be happily on my way back to Earth to leave this stinking stupid planet and it’s stupid stinking animals behind me.”

  Taark freezes. His fists clench. “Animals? Is that how you think of us?”

  I’m so mad at him that I miss the warning tone of his voice. Or rather, I ignore it. Days of anger and frustration and tiredness has finally caught up with me, and I’m about to erupt.

  I step closer and stare up into his golden eyes. He’s so tall I have to crane my neck right back. I channel all my anger into my stance, to try and make up for the fact I probably look like a small child throwing a temper tantrum next to him. “You’re behaving like it. To think I wanted to see you when I woke up. But if you’re going to treat me like a piece of property to claim, some mate just because we fucked once-” I’m crying now, tears of frustration and anger.

  “You’re right, you’re not mine,” he spits back. “I should have left you with the Galgog women.”

  “Well, I wish you had,” I yell back. “They were taking me home. All I ever wanted was to go home. At least here they’ve promised they’ll take me back to Earth once this is over. Now I’m stuck here until we overthrow some stupid alien Emperor that I don’t even know.”

  “You can’t stay here,” he says. His growl is louder. “It’s too dangerous for you. I can help you get back to Earth without sending you out on a suicide mission to overthrow a dangerous regime.”

  “I can do what I damn well please,” I screech. “You don’t own me, and you don’t control what I do.”

  We both glare at each other, me panting with the exertion of screaming at him.

  For a second I think he’s going to lean down and kiss me, and I feel myself leaning forward. Then he steps back and whirls on his heel and strides off down the rock hallway.

  Daem waits a moment and clears his throat. “Ahem, human. Should I take you back to your room now? It’s time for your drink again.”

  I turn back and glare at him, too.

  He raises his arms above his head and backs away. Maybe he thinks I’m scary again after that.

  I walk past him and take myself back to my room. The petty child in front of me wants to slam the door but my shoulder hurts too much. Instead I crawl under the covers and cry.

  Taark

  The infuriating, stubborn little human. I slam my fist into the wall when I am around the corner and out of her sight. She blames me for being injured, and being stuck here, with us animals.

  I know I’m to blame for delaying her, for letting the guards catch up to us and shoot. But I thought—I’d thought she’d want to see me as much as I wanted to see her.

  Perhaps she is right about us. We are just animals to her. No matter that we’ve been together, that I’ve come to care for her—we are different.

  She doesn’t understand that I’ve claimed her. That what we’ve been through together means I have the right to be protective over what is mine, and I’m expected to not let any other male touch her.

  I wanted to claw the cub’s face off, and I would have if I’d had the strength in me. Even if it meant losing the hospitality of these tunnel-dwelling men.

  I storm down the passageways, brushing past those I come across without a word or a look, winding further into the rebellion’s stronghold until I am well and truly lost.

  I need to get out of this dank cave and into the fresh air. I cannot think with all the walls closing in on me.

  I take any path that leads upwards, hoping that it will take me to the surface, to the wind blowing through the trees and to grass under my feet.

  When I finally find a path that takes me to the top and stumble out into the cover of the trees, my relief is immediate. I drag a deep breath of fresh air into my lungs.

  My passage through the tunnels has attracted some attention. New recruits must be rare enough out here. I’m not surprised. Who would want to live like a rat in the tunnels?

  I sit on my haunches and stare in front of me as the light fades. Whether it is because they do not trust me, or out of idle curiosity, I am not left alone. At least one man hovers just on the edge of my vision, while gaggles of wide-eyed kits scamper out of the passageway, eye me uncertainly, and then scamper away again.

  More people than I realized live out here in the wilds of the forest. Many, many more.

  Another posse of kits tumbles out of the passageway into the open air, come to stare at the stranger.

  “Taark? Is that you?”

  I jerk my head up at the sound of her voice. It sounds painfully like Marfin’s, only higher and less sure of itself. “Seta?” I have not seen Marfin’s baby sister for many turns, but I would recognize her anywhere. She has the same look about her. Marfin had a raw strength combined with a heart-shaped face that would take any man’s breath away. Seta will doubtless be the same, once she is grown.

  She stalks up to me and stops a few feet away with her arms crossed. “I thought they had killed you. When Marfin died.” Her voice is accusing. I don’t blame her. The emperor had widely publicized his lies about me killing Marfin. Marfin’s family had been as close as my own before then.

  I look up at her. It’s hard to get words out, and there’s so many things to say. If there was anyone I wasn’t expecting to see here, it was Marfin’s little sister. “Seta. It wasn’t me. I could never-” My voice hitches.

  She nods. Then all of a sudden, she runs up to me and gives me a huge hug. “Uncle Taark.” She sniffs in my ear. “I thought that after the Emperor’s men killed Marfin, they had taken you away and killed you, too.”

  I grimace as I hold her tight. “They tried. I was luckier than Marfin. I got away.”

  “So did we.” She takes hold of my hand and wipes a tear from off her cheek with the other. “I miss Marfin. Mama was sure they would come for us next, so we left the city and hid in a barn for a few days with a herd of goss.” She wrinkles her nose. “They smelled sooooooo bad. And then we got a ride to the forest, but we had to make sure no one saw us. And then we walked for aaaages and got here. I walked so much that Mama had to carry me ‘cos my feet swolled up. She said she was proud of me ‘cos I didn’t cry, not even once when I fell over. We had to be quiet.”

  It almost hurts to see such childlike naivety mixed with her bravery. I search her face. “And do you like it here?”

  “We have to be under the ground a lot, and sometimes it’s cold. But I don’t have to walk all day anymore.” Her face brightens. “I have so many new friends here. Do you want to meet them?”

  There is no way to refuse her enthusiasm. She pulls at me until I get to my feet and then solemnly introduces me to the entire posse of kits who are staring at us in silence. Most are on the skinny side, and pale, but they all smile and after I meet them, they turn to play fighting. I watch as they sharpen their claws on the trees and practice leaping at each other.

  Marfin’s family made it to safety. Seta and her mother. I feel a hot wave of anger sweep through me. Marfin should have been here, too. She should have listened to me, and kept her mouth shut around the dangerous words we’d shared. I should have been able
to protect her, like we’d promised each other. And, preoccupied with my own grief and imprisonment, I had not once considered that her family would be in danger, too.

  Seta is the spitting image of her older sister. I feel a gladness in my chest, but it’s heavy. I watch the kids play for what feels like hours, until the sun starts lowering and the shadows from the trees creep across the ground, and Sara takes my hand and leads me with the pack of kits to dinner. I think about how I’ll have to face Marfin’s mother, I’ll have to face their questions and their curiosity when they find out I’ve appeared here with a human female. I’ll have to make a difficult choice, if I am going to stay or go, if I am going to risk my life again to protect what I’d believed in or leave and protect myself. And I’ll have to make an even harder choice with Hannah.

  I look down at Seta as she trots along, pulling at my hand, and excitedly telling me about how the dinner is extra good this week because their new traps have caught game, and how she is going to show me the secret tunnel she found. I think of her old friends, back in the city, and how many of their parents are now scared for the safety of their little ones. How many families are tarred with the same brush for associating with this family of traitors? I think of all the families who are at risk with the Emperor in power, purely because they believe there is a better way to rule. It’s Seta, and Marfin, and those like them, that always end up losing.

  Seta’s fingers slip through mine as she skips ahead, and I hear her laugh at something another kit says, and I know that my decision is already made.

  Chapter Nine

  Hannah

  I’m still mad by the time dinner comes around. Daem looks too scared to speak to me, and has mostly been leaving me alone, save for bringing a cup of that horrible medicine to me.

  He says I’m okay to join everyone at dinner and I think, what the hell? I’m already cranky, and it’s not like a room of people staring at me and calling me a small kit and asking me questions is going to make me feel any worse. So I follow along behind him obediently into their mess, and take a plate of food, and plonk myself onto a bench to eat. The room is lined with crudely made long, wooden tables, with an eclectic mix of stools and benches along each side. Along the ceiling are dotted bright blue-tinged lights that seem to hang from nowhere, and on one wall is a bright display of moving words and pictures. I’m reminded of a digital notice board. The overall effect is strange—like a mixture of third world mixed in with high-tech gadgets everywhere. I guess this is what happens when a technologically advanced planet has a hideout underground for rebels.