A dull purr she’d missed before brought Zania’s attention to a dark corner of the small room. Struggling to focus through blurred peripheral vision, she distinguished a large rectangular machine to the side, with small lights on its flanks, blinking red and green. It seemed connected to a wide shaft rising through the ceiling, and two horizontal ducts going in opposite directions through the walls.
It looked like some kind of ventilation turbine, or a heavy duty air-conditioning unit. So, her hiding place must be a utility room. How long could Zania hide here without someone checking on that piece of equipment?
The answer came before she could finish the thought as she heard approaching footsteps. A pause, a shuffle of feet near the entrance, then nothing. But Zania felt a presence, too large to be Morrigan. She felt helpless, doomed.
The imposing shadow that bent over her seemed familiar and well intentioned. Svend! How could this be? His smile strained with concern. He crossed his lips with one finger, telling her not to speak. As if she could.
Concern filled his face at her lack of reaction. Out of a leather pouch hanging from his belt, he pulled a vial and uncorked it. Lifting Zania’s head gently, he opened her lips then poured the content into her mouth.
The bitter potion made Zania want to heave, but she couldn’t. This was no elixir.
Svend’s light gray eyes scrutinized her face. "Morrigan learned that the Gorgon provided the venom," he whispered. "She stole the antidote from the Gorgon’s locker."
So, Morrigan was braver than Zania imagined. Stealing from the Gorgon... And what prompted Svend to get involved? If Zania could smile, she would grin from ear to ear. She hoped the gratitude she felt showed in her fixed gaze.
"It will take a few hours," Svend breathed in her ear.
He laid Zania’s head back down then took something out of his pouch, a large green fruit. He held it up for Zania to see. "You might get hungry after the antidote takes effect." He set the fruit on the floor next to her. "Don’t go anywhere. You are safe here. I’ll be back." He kissed her forehead lightly, and the worry in his eyes warmed Zania’s heart.
How she wanted to thank him, tell him how much she appreciated his attentions. She wanted to touch him, kiss him, and not just a light touch of the lips. Despite her paralysis, she could feel something warm stir deep inside her.
When he left the room, Zania listened to his diminishing footsteps. Had she imagined the exchange? No, the unfamiliar tropical fruit still sat on the floor next to her, and the bitterness of the antidote scratched her throat.
Soon, the burning in Zania’s body turned into millions of needles piercing deep into her flesh. Was this what detox patients went through? It might have been easier to die. Then again, Zania’s life had always been a struggle. Why should this be any different? Would she ever find peace and happiness?
*****
Zania slept. She had no idea whether it was day or night. The same pale glow filtered from the adjacent corridor. She rubbed the grit out of her eyes, realizing with a start that she could move again. She stretched her legs and arms and winced. Her wounds had not healed yet. It wouldn’t do to pop the stitches.
But the antidote had worked! She moved her fingers in front of her face with wonder. She might live after all. By Zeus, she needed a bath, but that would have to wait.
Her stomach growled and Zania remembered the fruit Svend had left for her. She sat, leaning her back against the wall and bit into the green pulp. She found it deliciously sweet and cool. The juices washed away the acrid taste in her mouth.
Zania felt lucky to have such dedicated friends, although her feelings for Svend went beyond the boundaries of friendship. She wondered how he felt about her. Was it pity? Human compassion? Or something more? He’d defied the Collectors on their first encounter. Now he’d crossed Dakini. Why did he care?
The crazy notion that Svend might harbor feelings for her made Zania dizzy with the possibilities. But how could this ever work? It could only remain an impossible dream.
As a realist, Zania knew love wasn’t for her. She’d failed miserably before. Warriors just weren’t meant for love, only fight. Still, she couldn’t ignore the strange warmth invading her body in Svend’s presence, or the lusty thoughts assailing her mind.
As far as she knew, no one had come to fix the camera in front of the depression in the wall. She would have heard something. But Zania felt trapped, restless. Where could she go? Certainly nowhere until her wounds started healing and she regained some strength. Besides, her friends had told her to stay here.
Was she strong enough to stand? She struggled to her feet and took a few steps. Zania hated idleness, and although the pain of her healing throat and shoulder restricted her activity, she exercised her legs. Soon she felt reasonably mobile again. She searched the small room for something she could use as a weapon but couldn’t even find a wrench. Whoever maintained this ventilation unit must be a neat freak.
The sturdy boots borrowed from a dead Amazon fit her comfortably as she walked around the room, careful not to make any noise. Boots would come handy in the jungle outside. More than ever, Zania wanted to escape. Every hour spent in this room increased her risk of being discovered.
But how would she find the exit, and avoid the cameras? Certainly the power failure during the quake hadn’t fried them all. At the first sight of her, the guards would embark on a hunt. And Zania had no weapon.
At the sound of determined footsteps, Zania flattened herself against the wall and held her breath. when the man stepped in, Zania threw a punch, hoping for a knockout, but her fist met a strong hand immobilizing hers.
"I see you are feeling better." The male whisper left no doubt about who this was.
"Oh! it’s you!" Zania’s voice cracked.
The smile on Svend’s face made her want to slap him or kiss him. She wasn’t sure which. He was so close, and he hadn’t let go of her hand. When she gazed into his steely gray eyes, Zania felt that strange sensation in the pit of her stomach again.
"I have a few things for you." He walked further inside the room. "You have to get out, now."
"Finally, someone who understands." Zania’s whisper came clear this time.
Reaching for his boot, Svend pulled out a dagger and handed it to Zania. "You may need this topside. I hope you are good at fighting animals. There is easier prey up there for the tigers, but they have a sweet tooth for human flesh."
Zania took the dagger and ran her fingers along the blade. Long, sharp, with a good grip. "Thanks. I owe you more than I can repay." She slipped the dagger through her belt.
"Don’t mention it. I also have some food." He handed her a satchel. "That will last you for a few days. After that, you are on your own."
"I can live off the land." Zania slid the satchel strap across her healthy shoulder. "How do I get out of here?" Hopefully, Svend had thought of this all important detail.
"Through here." He walked to the ventilation unit and patted the wide conduit linking the unit to the ceiling. "This shaft goes all the way to the surface."
"Are you sure?" It looked hermetically sealed. "How do I get inside?"
Svend winked. "You are not the first one to escape this way." Out of his other boot, he pulled a screwdriver. "Actually you may find the jungle inhabited by other escapees. There is a cave not far from the shaft. Some of them live there. Look for inconspicuous arrow signs on the rocks and you’ll find it. I plan on joining you soon, with all the other slaves."
"You are planning an escape?" She thought of Dakini’s surprise, when she'd escape to find Zania alive. "The owners will come after you, after us all."
"It’s a chance we’ll have to take." Kneeling, Svend started removing the bottom screws of a vertical plate the size of a door on the conduit. "They don’t have the manpower to come after us in the jungle."
"What about the satellites?"
"They can’t see through the thick canopy... But they can hear." He kept removing the screws with surprising
dexterity. "Armed and trained, we are a force the citizens of this planet cannot match."
"So why are you helping me now? It could thwart your master plan."
Svend glanced up at her. "I just couldn’t let you die." He deposited several screws on the floor. "Too many people died already."
Zania noticed a great sadness in his voice and wondered whether he’d lost someone dear. "Why do you even care about what happens to me?"
Svend started on another row of screws. "I’m not sure, but I always did, from the moment I saw you."
Zania wanted to believe him but didn’t understand. "Then why are you playing along with Dakini?"
"It’s complicated..." Svend sighed. "There is much at stake... Many lives..." The last screw came loose and he pulled at the edges of the plate. It came off, exposing the bottom of a wide tubular shaft. Faint light filtered from high above inside the conduit.
"Dakini is part of your escape plan?" Zania had to remember to keep her voice to a whisper.
Svend nodded.
At a small sound in the corridor, Zania stared at Svend in silence. No other sound followed. Probably a rodent.
Svend offered a half smile. "I understand Morrigan and you are a couple."
"It’s complicated..." How could Zania explain what she didn’t understand herself. "I know she has feelings for me, but to me, she is just a friend."
"Good!" Svend’s wide grin spelled relief. He pushed a strand of hair away from her face, then he caressed her lips with one finger.
The intimate touch aroused forgotten sensations. Zania reeled with uncontrollable urges as he encircled her waist.
"I..." The soft contact of his lips on hers made Zania forget what she wanted to say. She lost herself in the feel of his chest as he pressed against her. His soft kiss breached her lips and she reveled in the strength of his desire. Her mind swam as if she’d been drinking.
Svend gently broke away from the kiss and gazed into her eyes. "I’ll see you soon, topside. I promise."
Zania dared to hope. "I’m counting on it."
Soft footsteps made Zania stiffen and reach for the dagger.
Svend stepped back and coiled, ready to pounce.
Then Zania recognized Morrigan’s short red hair and relaxed.
"I hope I’m not interrupting anything." The tone of the whisper denoted strong disapproval as Morrigan glared at Svend sideways then faced Zania. "I snuck out to say goodbye."
Zania felt guilty. She hoped Morrigan didn’t see her kiss Svend. The dream had told her to be kind to Morrigan, yet Zania couldn’t help herself.
Morrigan handed her a rolled blanket with a large Z painted on the brown wool. "It’s yours. I saved it." Then she handed Zania a jar. "For your wounds. You have to dress them every day."
Zania accepted the blanket and the jar. "Thank you for saving my life." She couldn’t stand the suffering in Morrigan’s eyes. She stepped forward to embrace her.
Morrigan stepped back. "I don’t want your pity." She looked so upset... Tears welled in her eyes and her chin trembled. "After all, we are just friends. Let’s not make this complicated."
So, she’d seen and heard everything. The intensity of the pain in Morrigan’s eyes burned Zania more than the poison that had seared her veins. "I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you."
"But you did anyway." The pain of the betrayal twisted Morrigan’s pale face.
Suddenly, Zania wanted to go away, leave all this pain behind. She realized she could never deal with Morrigan’s feelings for her. She quickly stashed the jar and stuffed the blanket in her satchel then faced her two friends, forcing a smile. "I guess, I better go now. I’ll see you both later. Good luck with your escape!"
Zania ducked into the open shaft. As soon as she turned away, tears rolled down her cheeks. She heard the metal plate slide back into place, followed by the quiet scraping of screws against metal.
She was free! This should be a happy occasion, yet, she couldn’t rejoice. Zania definitely did better at war than love.
Chapter Seven
Each step up the ladder, each pull on her arms brought Zania closer to the surface. The rungs embedded in the concrete wall of the cylindrical conduit seemed to stretch forever. Although two meters in diameter, the shaft felt oppressive, as if a hot lid pushed down on her.
Looking up, Zania blinked at the light filtering through a round metal grate. Muffled jungle sounds echoed in the air vent. Bird trills. The chirping of insects. The screams of monkeys.
Humidity made her grip slippery. Or was it her sweaty palms? Ignoring the pain in her shoulder and the pulse of blood in her freshly stitched throat, Zania climbed, hand over hand, one foot after the other.
When she finally reached the top, she poised herself on the ladder then hefted the heavy grate with her healthy shoulder. She pushed the round grid up and aside in a grinding of metal, just enough to pop her head through and take a look.
A three-hundred-sixty degree scan of the area told Zania no one waited for her. Good. Her heart beat faster. Could she have made it to freedom? Or had she traded slavery for certain death? Pushing the grate further, she squeezed out of the conduit that jutted two meters above the forest floor. Carefully, she slid the metal grate back into place, easing it down to avoid a clank. Then she leapt down to the soft ground and assessed her surroundings.
Reacting to a sting on her bare arm, Zania slapped a fat mosquito. "Perfect!"
Then she remembered she shouldn’t talk. The satellites might be listening. To make sure they couldn’t target her, Zania quickly stepped away from the vent, into the protection of the tall trees.
The thick vegetation beneath the canopy closed in on her. Large leaves, vines, and branches loaded with ripe fruit hung down to touch her face. The heady scent of flowers mixed with humus and rot. A rustling of leaves told of invisible dangers lurking around. Predators?
She made her way along a narrow, trodden path, watching each step for snakes or exposed roots. Who made the path? Animals? Previous escapees?
The sun was sinking behind the trees. Zania had to find a safe place before dark. Most wild cats hunted at nightfall. And with the diminishing daylight, she wouldn’t have time to search for the cave Svend mentioned.
Tree tops would not be safe from big cats either. Would a fire protect her from wild animals? Or would the heat signal her presence to the satellites? Looking up, Zania considered the green canopy. If it camouflaged her heat signature, it could probably hide a small fire.
Investigating a foul smell of rotten eggs, Zania almost fell into a pond of hot sulfuric water bubbling to the surface with nasty jets of steam. Volcanic grounds... Good. Her fire would go unnoticed.
Further search led her to a protected area along the crumbling wall of what had once been a house. A large flat stone, once part of the floor and now covered with moss, looked inviting. Set slightly above the forest floor, the stone looked free of crawling bugs. Zania hoped it would remain that way. She hung her satchel on a low branch to the side then went looking for tinder.
Most of the dead wood, damp and rotten, wouldn’t burn easily. Still. Zania had to try. She collected the driest moss she could find, the fiber of dead vines for tinder, kindling, and larger branches. Then she built a fire structure, angling the branches up in a cone shape for optimum burn.
Spreading the contents of her satchel on a large green leaf, Zania searched among the things Svend had provided. Nothing to light a fire. Back to basics.
In the desert, Zania would have chosen the wood-on-wood friction method, but in this rain forest, where dampness pervaded everything, the process would take time, and darkness fell quickly.
Next option, the dagger. Sharpening a blade on a stone, or striking it against another blade could produce sparks. Then Zania remembered the nearby hot spring. Hurrying back to it, she selected two dry rocks at the edge of the pond, covered with a thick yellow deposit. Sulfur. The perfect fire starter.
Back at her rudimentary camp, she vigorously
rubbed the two rocks together above a handful of dry tinder nestled in a piece of bark, letting the yellow sulfur spread on it. Then she hit her blade repeatedly against a small volcanic rock. Eventually, sparks flew. The sulfur hissed as it ignited, emitting a strong odor. The tinder burst into flame and Zania blew gently.
Careful not to breathe the toxic fumes, Zania produced a decent surge of fire. Blowing on it she placed her small burning vessel at the heart of her firewood structure. The sulfur would keep it from dying before igniting the whole pile.
The kindling snapped as it caught, then the larger branches started to burn, although not as bright as Zania would have liked. As she fanned it with a large leaf, her fire made more smoke than flames. It would have to do.
After gathering enough wood to feed the fire all night, Zania sat, resting her back against the wall, so no attack could come from behind. In front of her, the fire grew brighter. She couldn’t afford to fall asleep, but at least she would be safe for the night.
Pulling out her dagger, she inspected the blade. She’d nicked it while cutting branches and making sparks. A good soldier always kept her weapons sharp. Using a smooth stone, she sharpened the double-edge, checking the bite on her finger until satisfied. Then she stretched the leather strap of her satchel to hone the edges to razor sharpness.
As she worked patiently, her mind kept returning to Svend and Morrigan. Why did Zania feel guilty? The situation seemed simple, but she knew Morrigan wouldn’t accept the truth. She would think it an outlandish lie. And how could Zania convince her otherwise? But when it came down to it, the truth would simply devastate Morrigan. What a rotten way to repay her for saving Zania’s life? It didn’t seem fair either way.
Hungry, Zania ate a fruit from Svend’s stash, enjoying the sweet texture then spit the seeds into the fire. She’d seen similar fruit on the surrounding trees. At least she wouldn’t starve. As the hours ticked by, Zania kept feeding the flames.
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