by Marie Dry
“I don’t want you to show them mercy. The priest stationed here, the little weasel, enjoyed watching my warriors being tortured, and he wanted that awful man to burn me with acid too. He laughed every time Cornelius hit me.” She clenched her fists. “The little weasel kicked me while I was chained. The coward wouldn’t dare try it if I was able to fight back.”
Growls broke out around her. She had to consciously unclench her jaw before she could tell him the rest. “When Cornelius burned my birthmark, that priest giggled like a maniac. There’s something seriously wrong with that Zyrgin.” She was talking too much, but she couldn’t seem to stop.
Zaar’s claws lengthened, so briefly she nearly missed it, and the red in his eyes became like flames that wanted to consume her with warm safety, and at the same time she knew he wanted to burn Cornelius with vicious vengeance. “I know about the priest—we waited for him to make his move.” His jaws clamped together and the silence stretched. Then he said, through those clenched teeth, “He will never again be called a Zyrgin and he will be punished for even daring to put my parena in danger.”
“I don’t even feel sorry for him.”
Zaar stared down at her, his gaze enigmatic, and then said, “We were prepared for the Aurelians to revolt but we did not know about the breeder betraying us.”
Sarah sighed. She couldn’t bear to think about Srinisisa’s duplicity—the very first friend she’d made on Zyrgin. It wasn’t as if she was the most trusting person, but Srinisisa had managed to get under her guard from the beginning. “I’m sorry, Zaar, I should’ve listened to you when you said you wanted to monitor our visits with cameras.” From now on, when he talked about safety measures, she’d be all ears. For all she cared, he could watch her every hour of every day.
He steered her around a corner painted with elaborate flowers, and birds frolicking around what looked like cherubs, with long, lobed ears and bald heads. The scarred warriors and his personal guard fell in behind them. “We will talk of this. First I will teach the Aurelians never to touch my parena again.” If Sarah was an Aurelian, she’d run and hide for the rest of her natural life. The way he said Aurelian didn’t bode good for any of them.
“And to never again hurt or kill the warriors guarding your flames,” she added. She’d never before thought of Zyrgins as vulnerable, but now she couldn’t stop worrying about it. “What about the warriors guarding flames on other planets? Are they safe?” Zaar’s personal guard, and the scarred warriors who surrounded her and Zaar, exchanged glances, and some of them growled.
“They are safe—they all checked in and are on alert.” He cast a dire eye at the scarred warriors. “They will not accept food from the local people. Not even weak-looking females.” He touched her brow. “You honor me, my breeder, with your Zyrgin spirit.” She didn’t think of it as Zyrgin spirit—anyone would be concerned.
Zaar kept going down the gilded corridor and it was clear he knew exactly where he was going. Sarah was so tired; she just wanted to lie down and sleep for a year, but she was careful not to show it. As they walked, more warriors fell in behind them, their boots beating ominously against the ground. Sarah looked down at the floor, made of marble laid down in intricate patterns.
“Do you know where Coralinda is?” Sarah didn’t doubt she went into hiding when the Zyrgins landed.
“She tried to escape, but we intercepted her ship.”
“How did your troops get here so fast? She said that you wouldn’t be able to enter their space. That they had a new forcefield designed to keep out our ships.”
He cast her a quick, almost approving glance. “I materialized here, disabled their shield. The defences they put so much store by were jinz-izwe technology that they have not fully mastered.”
She grinned up at him and ignored the way her jaw ached. “I was hoping they didn’t know that you can poof all over.”
“I do not poof, I appear, a menace to any enemy of Zyrgin,” he growled at her.
Sarah was about to tease him a little when the guards in front of them crashed open two big elaborately gilded doors. They didn’t merely open them, they smashed them to pieces, the sound of breaking wood and steel reverberating around them.
Sarah had to give it to the Zyrgins—they knew how to make an entrance that intimidated the heck out of their enemies. Zaar stalked forward, Sarah by his side, and behind them row upon row of warrior stamped their feet as they walked until the sound dominated the room.
On the other side of the room, Coralinda and Cornelius sat chained to two horrendously ugly thrones. Coralinda flinched every time the warriors’ boots struck the floor. If anyone had asked Sarah if a gold and bejewelled throne could be ugly, she would’ve said no. But these monstrosities were so gaudily done, it was downright ugly.
Four Zyrgin guards, with serious-looking ray guns, stood behind the siblings. Coralinda and her brother tried to appear brave, but they couldn’t hide their fear. The priest was chained to a chair at the bottom of the platform that held the two thrones. He was a sick yellow color, his eyes darting around, as if he searched for a way to escape. Sarah could’ve told him there’d be no escape for him. The Wise One stood with his feet planted apart, as expressionless as only a Zyrgin could be. She sucked in a breath. His one eye was swollen shut and his jaw bandaged with jinz izwe. His body jerked when he saw her.
The Wise One came forward and knelt on one knee. He was bruised and bloody, as if he’d been beaten. “I cannot atone for the way they have harmed you. I tried to get to you, but I have failed you and my parenadorz.”
“They hurt you too.” She took his arm and tried to draw him up. Zaar pulled her back and she frowned at him.
“You do not touch him.”
She rolled her eyes and turned back to the Wise One. “Please get up. I know you were working undercover for Zaar and tried to help me.” She wished she spoke the old language so that they could converse without the other three understanding them.
The Wise One rose to his feet and went to stand behind the traitor priest whose color now fluctuated between yellow-green and a faint red hue. Not a good look on a Zyrgin. The warriors behind Coralinda and Cornelius saluted Zaar, then stood with their hands behind their backs and their feet braced apart. Sarah suspected the way they held their hands was a subtle show of disrespect.
Coralinda clenched her hands on the arms of her throne and her mouth opened and closed in that odd yawning movement. Her brother mirrored the movements of her mouth, but his hands trembled so much, he couldn’t even ball his fists.
Not so brave now that he wasn’t dealing with warriors helplessly tied up, she thought with savage enjoyment. The priest was still that strange yellow color, but he bowed his head to Zaar. “My leader. I am sorry to receive you in such a state.” He motioned clumsily to his elaborate clothing. “I have gained the trust of these traitors to aid you with knowledge when you come to punish the Aurelians who put out our flame and tortured our brave warriors.” His voice was weak and trembly—Sarah had never thought to hear a Zyrgin sound that whiny.
“You stinking liar.” She stepped forward, determined to kick the daylights out of the miserable traitor, but Zaar held her back. “Calm, my little human warrior. I will deal with all the traitors.”
The priest slumped down, mumbling something in Zyrgin. The guards snarled at him and he went quiet.
She looked the priest up and down, gauging his size and strength. “I can take him. Just let me kick him around a little bit.” She glared at the brother and sister on those ugly thrones. “In fact, let me kick all three of them until they’re sorry that they ever dared hurt my warriors.” She couldn’t hold back a sob. “They killed him Zaar, made him, made him—”
He patted her head. “In time, my breeder. And only I am your warrior.”
Sarah glared up at him through her tears. “You know I don’t mean they’re my warriors like you are. They’re my warriors because they protected me.”
“I understand,” he said, to
her surprise. He held out his hand, palm up. “Have a chocolate.”
She took the gold-wrapped treat from him with a watery laugh. This was really not the appropriate moment for chocolate treats.
“How did you get through our defences?” Coralinda asked. “We have surpassed your technology. Who let you through?” Considering her situation, Sarah didn’t think Coralinda should take that aggressive tone.
Zaar smiled, and it was all sharp teeth and menace. “We knew of your plans from the moment you bribed our technician. We baited the trap and waited.” He manifested a sword, and Coralinda shrank back into the throne, her brother shrinking, as well.
Coralinda quickly rallied and sneered. “But you didn’t know of our plans to take your pathetic little breeder with her man clothes.” The hatred in her eyes when she looked at Sarah was ugly to see.
“Don’t antagonise them,” Cornelius hissed at his sister.
Sarah looked thoughtfully at the woman. Coralinda would consider being chosen by the Zyrgin the ultimate status. Could she want Zaar, and the status an alliance with him would bring her? Was that why her hatred for Sarah felt so personal?
“You would have been wiser never to touch my breeder,” Zaar said.
“You had no right to take another breeder after you killed my aunt. We have a right to govern our own planet,” Coralinda said. She tried to sound authoritative, but she couldn’t stop the nervous yawning.
Zaar grew taller, took a step forward, and bellowed, “You dare tell me what I am allowed to do! I allowed this planet more freedom than any other in my power and that made you bold enough to plot against my breeder.”
Coralinda and her brother cowered back into their thrones.
“Parena,” Sarah whispered. “Don’t call me a breeder in front of them.”
Zaar didn’t seem to hear her, his focus on the two cowering Aurelians tied to the thrones. “You think you are oppressed.” He stepped closer, held Sarah next to him. “I will show you oppression. This planet will be ruled by a Zyrgin from now on,” he said in that silky voice that sent chills crawling down her spine. “All the traitors will be found and executed. Never again will this planet defy me.”
“Are you going to execute me?” Coralinda asked, her head held high, long lobes swinging and the jewels catching the light. Sarah had to give her credit for being brave.
“You thought to sell my parena. As if she was nothing more than a commodity. My pregnant breeder.” The menace in his voice had the woman shaking. She’d gone sheet white.
“Please, mercy, parenadorz, Z-Z-Zyrgins do not hurt women,” she pleaded hoarsely.
Sarah frowned—how did he know that she was pregnant? Then she saw the Wise One and nodded. He must’ve told Zaar.
“I do not show mercy to anyone who hurt my pregnant parena. You will not escape punishment. In my eyes, you are not a woman, but the enemy.”
Sarah sucked in a breath. He hadn’t called her a breeder in front of this woman. But she registered that only vaguely. He knew, he knew she was pregnant? She’d only begun to suspect herself when Srinisisa had betrayed her. Of all the ways for her and Zaar to share the knowledge that a baby might be on the way, this was the last way she would’ve wanted. For that alone she could kill Coralinda herself.
“You will never again be a threat to my parena and are now beneath my notice. The Zyrgin stationed here to rule will carry out your sentence.”
Coralinda flinched and Sarah felt a little sorry for her. “What is my sentence?” she asked through trembling turquoise lips.
“I will pass sentence after your interrogation. If you and your brother do not answer all questions to my satisfaction, the truth will be tortured out of you.”
24
More warriors with the uniform of Zaar’s personal guard arrived. They grunted, talking to Zaar in the old language and then saluted and joined the other warriors standing with their backs against the wall. Nothing she’d seen in the raider camps had been as intimidating as those grim-faced warriors standing shoulder to shoulder, circling the large throne room.
“Where did you find the plants that bleed acid?” he asked a shaking Cornelius.
“They sprang up in the Tailian Mountains,” Cornelius said and his voice trembled. Again, Sarah had that overwhelming urge to kick him, the miserable coward. She’d never forget that warrior willingly swallowing the stem that he knew would kill him. Sarah closed her eyes. For her, he’d done it for her. How could anyone enjoy hurting helpless people and then be as cowardly as Cornelius, shrinking on his throne?
“How many of these plants did you find?” Zaar asked.
“Only three—we searched, but couldn’t find more.”
Zaar paced up and down in front of the thrones and its quaking occupants. It was telling that he didn’t have them removed from the thrones, that he could intimidate them even standing several steps below them. The dais the thrones stood on was designed to have the rulers high above any supplicant below. Except Zaar was no one’s supplicant. “How did you discover the acid in the plants?”
Cornelius closed his lips and Sarah had a sinking feeling in her stomach. The image of the Zyrgin warrior dying, from the acid plant stem shoved down his throat, flashed in front of her. She clenched her hands, resisting the urge to run up those gaudy steps and choke the life out of him.
Sarah didn’t see Zaar give any command, but a warrior, who stood behind the thrones, stepped forward and casually broke Cornelius’s arm. He screamed in a shrill voice and Coralinda stared straight ahead. She was obviously afraid, but didn’t seem overly concerned for her brother. Sarah couldn’t fathom being that cold. If she had a sibling, she’d never be able to be that unfeeling if they were hurt. She noticed the Zyrgins glaring at Cornelius who was cradling his arm and still screamed in that shrill voice.
“One more scream out of you and we break every bone in your body,” Zaar said in that silky voice that would’ve had Sarah confessing her sins and falling to her knees to plead for her life.
Cornelius stopped mid-scream.
“How did you find out what the plant can do?” Zaar asked again.
“They were only peasants,” Cornelius whined.
“Stop your snivelling, Aurelian. Tell me exactly how you found out what the plant can do or I will allow you to experience the kind of torture you like to mete out.”
“A peasant woman plucked the flower and it dripped acid onto her hand and burned through the mountain rock. It was reported to the palace,” Cornelius said in as rush. Sweat ran down his face and he trembled so much, only the chains kept him on the throne.
Sarah sneered at him. Not so brave now that he wasn’t dealing with helpless, chained people. Unlike Cornelius, the Zyrgins he’d tortured in that cell had conducted themselves with brave nobility. “Coward,” she couldn’t contain the whisper.
“What did you do?” Zaar asked, ignoring her even though she knew, with his acute hearing, that he’d heard her.
“We experimented,” Cornelius said, looking shifty.
“On who?” Zaar asked in that silky voice that made Sarah want to hide until the carnage stopped.
“The peasant woman and her family. But it’s nothing, they’re just peasants, bred for our convenience.” Even frightened and barely able to speak, his disdain was obvious for the family he’d probably killed with the acid from the plants.
Sarah couldn’t stay still any longer—she leapt forward. “You evil snake, you dare treat your people like that. They are decent hardworking folk and you murdered them.” She punched him in the face. Had no idea how she got up here. “Ow.” Sarah shook her sore fist. “You dare torture these warriors.” She punched again. Not caring that it hurt her hand. She turned and glared at Coralinda. “And you watch and enjoy the suffering of others. What’s wrong with you people?”
She moved toward Coralinda, determined to punch her too, but Zaar grabbed her, and before she could blink, she was at the bottom of the dais again. She struggled, so furious. “Let me
go. I will give them some of their own medicine.”
“Sarah.”
“I will scar you the way you scarred them and beat the stuffing out of both of you,” Sarah said and savagely enjoyed the way Coralinda shrank back from her. “That’s right, you evil b… person, you’d better be afraid.” At times like this she really wished she could swear. A few F-bombs would say it really well. But it was glorious to be this angry, to look her abusers in the eye and let them know she had the upper hand.
“Breeder.”
“What!” She turned to glare at Zaar. The scarred warriors moved closer to her, as if they wanted to protect her from Zaar.
“Your bravery and the decisive way you deal with our enemies make me proud, but maybe you can let us warriors do the warrior work,” Zaar said and she knew him well enough to know by now that he was amused and not angry.
The scarred warriors, whom she’d always think of as her warriors, stepped back.
With one last glare at Coralinda and Cornelius, Sarah stepped back. “Oh, all right. At least promise me you’re going to torture Cornelius and that horrible priest and let me watch.” But already her anger was leaving her. The thought of watching anyone’s torture was repugnant to her, without that scalding fury sustaining her.
The priest whimpered, a very un-Zyrgin sound, and Cornelius shrank into himself until he looked grotesque.
Zaar came to stand in front of Sarah. “You are welcome to watch, but when this anger leaves you, I know your soft heart will make you beg for mercy for them.”
She pointed to the scarred Zyrgins. “Look what they did to my warriors—that traitor priest sold them out and then enjoyed their suffering. You should’ve seen the sick pleasure on his face when that evil snake tortured them.” She pointed to Cornelius who looked as if he wanted to melt into the chair. “I will never beg for mercy for either of them.” She bit her lip. “I promised that traitor priest there was a glass cylinder in your basement, with his name on it.”
