Draekon Fever_Exiled to the Prison Planet

by Lili Zander

  “Because they’re your mates?” His expression is cynical. Not a big believer in love, Dariux.

  I don’t answer. I’m well aware that my motivations for setting off in pursuit of Ferix and Rorix aren’t entirely pure. I’ve been attracted to the two men since my first day on this planet.

  I liked the way they’d kissed me last night. I wanted to join them in the bathtub. And now that I understand why they played hot and cold with me, I want to explore this attraction between us.

  Or you could just go back to Earth. Live the life your grandmother wanted for you.

  I fall silent. For the rest of the day, we don’t talk, except about inconsequential matters. When the sun starts to set, Dariux pitches two watlich-coated tents and makes a campfire. As I cook some meat over the flames, he heads to a nearby stream to fill our water packs.

  We retreat into our tents after dinner. I stay awake for a long time, listening to the buzzing of the hairus. And when I finally fall asleep, I dream once again of Rorix and Ferix. My mates.

  The next morning, we set off in silence again. After almost an hour, Dariux clears his throat. “I don’t wish you ill, Sofia,” he says soberly, seamlessly picking up the threads of yesterday’s conversation. “But you should be fully aware of what you’re risking. Your mates will not treat you the way the other Draekons treat their human women. They will not be kind or gentle or reasonable, not when the dragons have taken over. You will be their captive. Their possession.”

  I think of Rorix, ready with a joke when I’m feeling gloomy, always willing to cheer me up. Ferix, who is quietly thoughtful, who gathers an armload of berries every time he goes hunting, because they’re my favorite. The thought of them holding me captive is ridiculous. “That won’t happen,” I say confidently.

  “Your faith is commendable,” he responds. “But you need more than faith, Sofia Menendez. No Draekon has ever come back from the fever. Ever.”

  It’s my turn to change the topic. “I thought the Draekons were engineered to be perfect soldiers,” I say, bringing up something that’s been bothering me all morning. “Why doesn’t Arax want to fight?”

  He gives me a mocking look. “Do healers usually cheer for war?”

  Ouch. I deserve that.

  “I don’t know the Firstborn’s motivations,” Dariux continues. “Maybe he wishes to protect his unborn youngling.”

  I look up, startled. “How did you know that Viola is pregnant?”

  “It was a hypothesis,” he replies. “One you just confirmed.”

  Argh. No wonder Olivia wants to strangle Dariux from time to time. The man can be infuriating.

  “It’s also practical to stay out of sight. Yes, we can kill fifty soldiers. Maybe even five hundred. But if four Adrashian ships can get past the asteroid belt to land on the prison planet, so can forty. Or four hundred. The High Empire is immensely powerful, and we cannot defeat them all. And of course, Lenox could just order the planet destroyed.”

  “Would he do that? His own brother is in exile here.”

  “To Lenox, Arax will always be a threat,” Dariux says with a shrug. “Especially if attitudes toward the Draekon are shifting. Arax was the Firstborn. The crystal throne should have been his. Lenox won’t move against Arax without provocation, but if Arax attacks the Zoraken, who knows what might happen?”

  So much is going on around us. So many moving parts to this puzzle. It’s bewildering, but I need to stay focused on the most important thing. Finding Rorix and Ferix and helping them.

  “But Arax will never attack without cause,” Dariux finishes. “A true leader knows that war is the last recourse. You only march into battle when there is no other option.”

  I’m about to answer when I hear a click. Dariux freezes in place as four people emerge from the jungle, surrounding us.

  The Zoraken. They’re not supposed to be anywhere near us, but yet somehow, here they are.

  We’ve walked into an ambush.

  “Well, well,” one of them says. “An exile, and one of the human women we’ve been asked to find. Commander Hurux is going to be delighted.”

  9

  Rorix

  Where in the name of Caeron are we?

  I wake up, stiff and sore after a night of sleeping on hard rock, as naked as the day I was born. The sun is quite high in the sky, and its rays beat down on me.

  The creature inside me might not care about creature comforts, but I, Rorix und Marox ab Kei, would dearly love a cool bath.

  But for that, we need to climb down this mountain. “Why,” I groan to Ferix, who is sitting on the ground, leaning against a boulder, “do we keep ending up on mountains? It must be a dragon thing. First, the Na’Lung Cliffs. Then our Dsar home. Now, this place.”

  I get to my feet and stretch, wincing as every muscle in my body screams in pain. I don’t know what I was doing yesterday, but judging from the aches and pains, it was quite strenuous. “Tell me you’re hurting too,” I tell Ferix. “Bast.”

  He smirks at me, the jerk. “Maybe you should spend less time flirting with Sofia, and more time staying in shape.”

  The mention of Sofia’s name wipes the smile off my face. Already, after just a day away from her, I feel her absence like a hole in my chest. “Where are we?” I ask, trying to distract myself.

  “Not a clue,” Ferix replies. “Does it matter?”

  He’s not looking particularly cheerful this morning. I don’t blame him. The future looks grim for both of us. Still, I’m more curious than he appears to be, so I look around. We’re on a mountain peak—of course—but the terrain around me is unfamiliar.

  To my east, at the foot of the mountain, a brilliantly blue ocean stretches as far as the eye can see. There are more mountains to my north, but when I turn south, I see grasslands. Due west of the grasslands is dense jungle.

  I don’t recognize any of it. Worse, I can’t see any sign of the ships that landed yesterday. “Do you think we’re on a different continent?” I ask Ferix thoughtfully.

  He shakes his head. “I have a theory.”

  “From the expression on your face, I’m not going to like it, am I?”

  He grins wryly. “We wanted to head north yesterday,” he says. “I think our dragons picked up on that desire. We’re where we wanted to go.”

  “You think the dragon remembers our deepest desires?” Cold dread trickles down my spine. I know exactly why Ferix looks so strained. This is bad. This is very bad. Because the deepest desire of my heart is to be with her. With Sofia. My mate.

  And if my dragon has fixated on her…

  I clench my hands into fists and force my panic back. “She’s not safe from us. What do we do?”

  Ferix takes a deep breath. “We do nothing,” he says flatly. “Sofia’s protected. Every single Draekon in camp knows what the fever means. They won’t let us get near her. They’ll fight us if they must. They’ll do what’s necessary to protect her.”

  Protect Sofia. From us. Because we can no longer keep the beasts under control.

  “The Firstborn will never allow us to claim her,” Ferix continues. “Rightly so. Even now, I feel the dragon inside me pace to and fro, restless and impatient and filled with anger. It’s taking all my willpower to keep it contained. If Sofia were exposed to its rage, to its madness…”

  My shoulders slump. Now that we’re not with the others, it’s slowly sinking in. I will never be with my mate. I will never see my friends again.

  I can’t let my mind go there. I can’t allow despair to take over. Death awaits me, but I will not spend the time I have left wallowing in self-pity. “If we’re the first people to set foot on this mountain,” I announce, “Then I’m going to name it.”

  Ferix snorts in disbelief. “Every time I think I know what you’re going to say,” he says, a reluctant smile stretching over his face. “You surprise me. Go ahead then. Name this rock. What are you going to call it?”

  I think for a minute, and a grin grows on my face. “Tunjour
.”

  Tunjour is a real place, a planet that’s part of the High Empire. The weather there is always perfect. It’s never too hot, and it’s never too cold. It’s clean and boring and bland and attracts more than its fair share of citizens whose lifespans are almost at an end.

  Just like us.

  Ferix bursts out laughing. “You’re actually serious. You have a morbid sense of humor, my friend.” He gets to his feet. “Well, unlike the real Tunjour, no one is going to appear with food. If you want to eat, we need to get off this mountain.”

  “Let’s do it,” I start to say, and then I fall silent. My entire body fills with unease.

  Something’s wrong.

  Fire blazes on my skin. The barrier holding my dragon falls, and the creature bursts free.

  With twin roars, we launch into the sky.

  10

  Sofia

  I’m thoroughly searched by a stern-faced female soldier. My hands are cuffed behind my back, my legs are tied together, and I’m unceremoniously slung on the back of the skimmer.

  Dariux is searched next. The soldiers are a lot warier as they root through his pack, and when they find his weapon and his med-kit, the soldier closest to him growls with rage. “How dare you?” he snarls. “You are in exile. You are forbidden technology.”

  Dariux laughs mockingly. “What are you going to do about it?” he asks. “Exile me?”

  The soldier swells with rage and backhands him. Dariux stumbles and crashes into me, and I feel him press something small and metallic into my palm.

  Huh. I wonder what Dariux is trying to hide. I hastily close my fist over it, pasting my best innocent expression on my face, the one my grandmother could always see through. Fortunately, none of the Zoraken are watching me. They’re watching the soldier pummel Dariux.

  “Stop it,” I yell out, before realizing the Zorahn aren’t wearing translators. They have no idea what I’m saying, and even if they did, they don’t look ready to listen.

  They beat him for a very long time. The Draekons don’t hurt easily, I remind myself, feeling sick to my stomach as I watch Dariux bleed, bright blue blood squirting everywhere. Fight back, I urge him wordlessly. If there’s ever a good time for the Draekon to become a dragon, it’s now.

  But Dariux doesn’t transform. He takes the beating silently. “Abomination,” the woman who searched me screams as she kicks him in the gut. “Die, mutant.”

  “Enough,” the man who appears to be in charge says at last. “Tie the Draekon up. We need him alive. Commander Hurux will want to question him.”

  We travel for what feels like a couple of hours, though slung as I am on the skimmer, it’s hard to keep track of time. No one’s paying attention to me, and I use the opportunity to slip the object Dariux gave me into my back pocket. Thank heavens for pants with lots and lots of pockets.

  Finally, the vehicles lurch to a stop, and I’m yanked onto my feet. “Notify the Commander that we’ve found one of the human women,” the soldier in charge barks to an underling.

  My throat is dry with fear as we wait. I’m not afraid for myself, but I’m afraid for the Draekons. Seeing the way the soldiers have treated Dariux so far isn’t confidence-inspiring.

  The Zorahn seem determined to send us back home. And the men in camp aren’t going to allow the soldiers to take away their mates. Not without a fight.

  It feels like we’ve been bracing for war for a long time, but secretly, I’ve been praying and hoping that something happens to avert it. That Raiht’vi realizes that the rest of us are in the line of fire through no fault of our own. That her conscience tells her that it’s wrong to endanger the Draekons when, without their help and intervention, she’d be dead.

  But time’s run out, and there’s no hope for peace. War is coming.

  While I’m lost in my gloomy thoughts, Dariux is looking around the clearing we’re in. I look too, and I’m reluctantly impressed. The Zorahn have been busy. In less than one day, they’ve erected four prefab buildings, one large one that looks big enough to house all fifty of them, and three smaller ones whose purpose is unclear. Their ships are encased in a clear dome, probably to protect them from harm. A tall fence surrounds their encampment.

  Dariux shakes his head in wry admiration. “The might of the High Empire,” he says. “And the efficiency of the Zoraken.”

  For the moment, no one is near us. Dariux inches closer to me. “Sofia,” he hisses. “You have the ring?”

  It takes me a couple of seconds to realize he’s not speaking Zor. He’s speaking English. He notes my expression of shock and makes a dismissive gesture. “I learn,” he says. “Not important now. The ring I gave you is a weapon.”

  He’s speaking English so we won’t be overheard. That doesn’t happen overnight. Dios mio, these Draekons are formidable. Dariux has been preparing for this moment ever since we showed up at his camp. I remember what he said to me yesterday. I’m good at seeing connections. Pulling fragments of information together to form a picture.

  And he’s good at preparing for every eventuality. He’s learned English, just in case he’s captured. Just so he has a sliver of an advantage, being able to talk to one of us without being understood.

  I don’t know if I like Dariux, but the man is terrifyingly competent.

  Then the rest of his words sink in. “A weapon,” I repeat nervously. It’s in my back pocket. Will it go off if I sit down? “What kind of weapon?”

  “Pull the hinges apart, and it will stun anyone standing right next to you.” He gives me a meaningful look. “Like Rorix and Ferix.”

  I grow cold at what he’s implying. “You think I’ll need to fight them off?”

  “I like to be prepared.”

  I stare at him. Olivia told me that back in his own camp, he would barter ruthlessly for access to his tech. Liorax and Zunix even had to pay to use the med-kit to mend Olivia’s broken leg. I don’t understand why he’s giving me this weapon now. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Consent is not a thing my people take lightly, Sofia Menendez.” He pauses for a long second. “I have tried to discourage you from finding Rorix and Ferix. Most of the game is stacked against you.” He leans forward, closer to me, and his voice vibrates with intensity. “But, Raiht’vi isn’t the only player out there. Don’t give up hope, Sofia. Not just yet.”

  The commander arrives just then, cutting off anything else Dariux might say. The moment he sees me, his expression fills with fury. “Why is the human bound?” he demands, giving the soldier who beat Dariux an icy glare that has him cringing back. “The Earth women are honored guests of the High Emperor, and you will treat them like common prisoners? Unlock her restraints and get me a translator. Now.”

  Like the other Zorahn, Hurux is tall and broad-shouldered. Unlike the others, he actually seems halfway decent. He inserts the translator into his ear as a nearby soldier unties my hands and legs. “The way you have been treated is unforgivable,” he says to me. “By our laws, you may punish the men and women who did this to you. Tell me what you want, and I will make it so.”

  Good grief. I’m a doctor, damn it. I don’t want anyone to get punished. “Your soldiers beat Dariux up,” I snap. “Can someone tend to him?”

  For the first time, the commander’s gaze moves over to Dariux. “Why was the exile treated this way?” he asks, his voice mild.

  “He had tech, Commander,” one of the soldiers says, her voice indignant. She pulls Dariux’s weapon and med-kit from her pack and shows it to her boss. “It is forbidden. Abomination. We need to make an example of him and everyone who helped him so that no one will ever dare aid the mutants again.”

  Hurux holds out his hand for the tech. “Are you telling me how to do my job, Ensign Sala’vi?”

  Ensign Sala’vi hears the veiled threat, loud and clear, and she backs down immediately, her head bowed. “I would never presume,” she murmurs. “My apologies, Commander.”

  Hurux gives us another long look. “Take them to my
quarters,” he instructs. “I will speak to them alone.”

  The instant the door shuts behind us, Hurux’s demeanor changes. He makes a disgusted sound in his throat and undoes Dariux’s wrist cuffs. “Why didn’t you fight back, you fool?”

  Wait, what?

  My mouth falls open, and I look back and forth between the two men. “You know each other?”

  Dariux surprises me with an answer. “A long time ago, Hurux used to work for me. He was a spy.” He turns to the Zorahn. “They mentioned a Commander Hurux, and I was curious to see if it was really you. Besides, I didn’t want a fight to break out. The humans are more fragile than we are. Your unit is very undisciplined, Hurux.”

  The commander snorts in disgust and tosses Dariux the med-kit. A low hum fills the room as Dariux fixes his wounds. “This bunch isn’t my unit,” he replies. “So, you got someone to arrange a tech drop, did you?”

  Dariux shrugs. “If I don’t tell you anything, then you don’t have to act,” he points out. “You’re a soldier now? How come?”

  “I won’t work for Ru’vi,” Hurux says bluntly. “When Surax died, I found another line of work.”

  Dariux’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yet you’ll work for Brunox and the Adrashians he’s allied with?”

  Hurux looks uncomfortable. “I’m here to rescue Raiht’vi and the human women,” he replies tightly. “That’s my mission. Nothing else.” He gives Dariux a steady look. “I have no quarrel with the exiles, Dariux. I bear them no ill will. Don’t get in the way, and you won’t get hurt.”

  “What if I don’t want to leave?” I cut in. “What if I want to stay here?”

  The commander shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he says, and I can tell he’s being sincere. “That’s not within my control. The High Emperor has decreed that the human women will be returned to Earth. I will do my duty.”