Dragons of Mars Box Set

by Leslie Chase

  "I knew the two of you would be good together," Hannah carried on, oblivious. "First time I saw you together."

  "The first time you saw us, I was patching up his boss after Markath nearly tore his wing off," Amanda reminded her, and Hannah laughed.

  "Yeah, and you should have seen the way he looked at you," she said. "You would have, if you'd paid any attention."

  "Excuse me for having my mind on my damned job," Amanda retorted, a little hotly. Was the tunnel opening out a little? She thought it might be, and breathed a prayer of thanks. She hadn't thought she could want to escape anything more than she did this cave, but now she wanted out of the conversation even more. "I think I can see lights up ahead."

  "Oh, thank God," Hannah said, her teasing forgotten in an instant. "I've not had anything to eat in far too long."

  The going was slightly easier, though the rocks still seemed to press in around them as Amanda pressed on. Jagged edges caught on her suit and she winced at the thought of how they'd bite into Markath's skin. At least both she and Hannah were protected by their suits and could get through unharmed. And yes, there was light shining up ahead, unmistakable. She'd made it through.

  The last couple of yards went quickly, and then she pulled herself out of the wall of fallen rock to tumble to the ground in safety. Amanda took a deep breath, the claustrophobic feeling of the narrow passage leaving her, and only then looked around.

  Standing over her were two men, silhouetted against the light. Neither of them made any move to help her, and one held a rifle leveled at the hole she'd emerged from.

  "Mr. Dieter?" she asked, blinking against the light. "Jim?"

  Jim, holding the gun in place, ignored her completely, but Dieter looked down. His face was hard, and she swallowed nervously.

  "You opened up the cave," he said. "Let those monsters out."

  "I rescued Hannah, she's right behind me," Amanda protested. She could hear the scraping sounds of her sister approaching the end of the tunnel, and looked up at Jim nervously. He didn't shoot me, so he won't shoot her, she told herself. If he was that trigger happy, I'd be dead.

  It wasn't a comfortable thought, but it was all she had.

  Dieter didn't seem worried, though. At least not enough to do anything about where the gun was pointing. "That so? Well done, Doctor, well done. I didn't think we'd see her again."

  Hannah's hands emerged from the gap, and a moment later she was pulling herself out, staring down the barrel of the weapon with a surprised look on her face. "What the hell, Jim? Point that somewhere else, will you?"

  The look on Jim's face was anything but reassuring, and he held the rifle steady as a rock. Steadier than the unstable rocks of the cave, in fact. "You get out of the way, Hannah," he said. "If any of those monsters are following you, well. I'll get 'em."

  "Don't be stupid, those things couldn't fit through that hole," Amanda said as Hannah quickly pulled herself out of the way. "Markath's coming through next."

  She wasn't keen to see how he'd take being greeted with a gun. Everything she'd learned about him so far told her that he'd respond quickly and savagely. While Amanda had to admit that she wouldn't mind seeing Jim humbled, she didn't want him to end up another casualty that she had to treat.

  Or worse. She wasn't sure that Markath would stop with just injuring him, not if he realized that Jim had pointed that gun at her, too. If there was one thing that would push him to kill, it was a threat to his mate.

  But if Jim realized the danger he was in, he gave no sign. His aim never wavered, though his eyes flicked to Dieter with a question. Dieter, in turn, nodded thoughtfully at the hole.

  "One of the monsters, Jim," he said quietly. "I'm sure of it."

  "Right you are, sir," Dieter replied, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Good thing we were here to stop it."

  Amanda's heart thumped and she felt herself pale as she realized what they were saying. "No! No, you can't," she said, jumping to her feet. Dieter grabbed hold of her, keeping her away from Jim.

  "We can, Doc, and we will," he said, gripping her tight. "You're not on our crew, but I owe you for the treatment you gave the rest. So don't worry, you're safe with us. I'll even cut you in for a share, once our patrons get here there'll be plenty to go around. But that goddamned alien would spoil everything if he got back to Marsport, so he's got to go."

  "He saved my life," Hannah said, pulling herself up and glaring at Dieter. "You know, after you knocked down the tunnel on me and the rest."

  Scraping sounds came from the hole in the rubble, the sounds of Markath approaching. Amanda squirmed helplessly in Dieter's hands, and drew a breath to scream a warning. But Dieter pulled her close and, pinning her with one arm, covered her mouth with the other. Her words were muffled, unintelligible, and she shut up quickly. If Markath heard her in distress, she knew it would only make him hurry up to get to her.

  And as soon as his head peeked out of the rubble, Jim would blow a hole in it. The thought was intolerable, and she struggled with renewed intensity. But there was no way to get free of Dieter's grip.

  "I'm sorry about that, Hannah," Dieter said conversationally, as though nothing at all was wrong. As though he wasn't about to have someone murdered. "It was a bit of a panic, but it's all worked out for the best, right?"

  "People died, Dieter," Hannah protested, leaning against the wall and trying to catch her breath. Pulling herself through that narrow gap after days without food couldn't have been easy. Amanda could see that it had taken everything out of her sister.

  Dieter shrugged at the accusation, unmoved. "More to go around for the rest of us," he said. "We're all going to be rich, Hannah. Don't get hung up on the details. It's not like you knew any of 'em well, is it?"

  "I guess not," Hannah admitted, managing a shrug and a smile. "That's the advantage of being new, I suppose. No time to get attached to anyone."

  "That's the spirit," Dieter said with an answering smile, as Amanda shot an outraged glare at her sister. "I figured you had what it took to make it as one of us. You'll be able to talk some sense into your sister here?"

  Amanda heard Markath getting close to the entrance, and her frantic struggles were getting her nowhere. Forcing herself to relax, she tried to summon all her energy for one last try as Hannah stepped closer to Dieter.

  "Sure I will, as long as she's getting paid her fair share," Hannah said, to Amanda's disgust. "We're pretty reasonable, both of us, as long as we get paid. There's just one thing..."

  She trailed off, and Dieter looked at her questioningly. Amanda watched in shock as Hannah smiled broadly.

  And then punched Dieter full in the face.

  It wasn't an elegant punch, and coming from a half-starved woman it wasn't enough to do any real harm. But the surprise was enough to knock him off Amanda, and the follow up drove him back.

  Amanda didn't waste a moment on being shocked. There wasn't time. As soon as Dieter's grip on her loosened she leaped forward, shouting "It's a trap" at the top of her voice. She just had to hope that Markath would take the warning rather than trying to save her from it.

  Her arms hit Jim's rifle as his finger squeezed the trigger, and the shot went wide. A rock disintegrated under the impact, and then he swung the rifle's stock into her stomach.

  The impact sent Amanda staggering back, but she grabbed hold of the barrel. Even through the gloves of her suit it burned her hands, but she wasn't going to let him have a clear shot into the hole.

  "Markath! Get back," she managed to force the words out, coughing as she clung to the gun for dear life. Another shot rang out, deafening, and a hail of stones fell from the ceiling as the cave shook.

  "Are you mad? You'll bring the roof down," Dieter cried out, panic in his voice. Amanda couldn't spare any attention for how his struggle with her sister was going, but at least he hadn't piled on her yet. She knew that she couldn't face both men at once.

  Even one was too much. Jim was strong, too strong, and it was only grim det
ermination that let her cling to his rifle as he tried to shoot into the gap Markath would be crawling through. Each shot he fired made the cave shake further, the bolts of energy superheating the rocks and shattering them in sprays of knife-sharp stone. Hannah cried out in pain behind her, and Amanda looked back in horror to see what was wrong.

  That was all the opening Jim needed. The impact of his fist into her stomach drove all the air from her lungs, and she staggered back, her grip loosening on the gun. Jim pulled it out of her hands, and before she could recover he swung it around in a brutal arc that slammed the stock into her head.

  The world spun around Amanda, and she felt herself fall. Curiously there was no pain, but her limbs wouldn't do as they were told and everything blurred around her. The fall to the floor seemed to take forever.

  Oh. I'm in shock, she diagnosed herself as she struck the hard stone with a thump that echoed through her body. That makes sense.

  She felt strangely satisfied that she'd figured out that puzzle, and tried to shake off the strange feeling. But it was no use. Her head felt as though it was full of cotton wool and everything was moving slow and fast at the same time. She could barely get her hands to move, let alone pull herself to her feet.

  "I can't see the fucker," Jim said, sounding to her ears as though he was a thousand miles away and underwater. Another shot rang out, and Amanda whimpered to herself.

  "Fuck it," Dieter replied. "Bring the roof down on him. Bury the alien bastard, we'll see how he likes that."

  Amanda let her eyes drift shut as more shots filled the air, and rock shattered. She didn't have the energy to fight the darkness, and she didn't want to hear Markath being buried alive.

  19

  Markath

  The rock shook around Markath as he tried to crawl backward as fast as he could go, cursing under his breath. Every instinct told him he should be going forward, towards his mate and the sounds of combat.

  But going forward meant going to his death, and that wouldn't help Amanda. Her shouted warning had saved his life, and it would be a poor way to repay her if he ignored it and got himself shot. Markath had to tell himself that, over and over, as he retreated.

  I wouldn't help her, he told himself. I'd be shot as soon as I showed my face, and then I'd be no use to her.

  Markath wouldn't have hesitated if his death would protect Amanda. But it wouldn't, and that cut him deeper than the demon tiger's claws had. If he wanted to be able to help her, he needed to stay alive, and for now that meant getting away from the shooting. Even if the shooter couldn't hit him, the unstable tunnel was far too dangerous.

  With a grinding crunch, the rocks shifted around him. The humans' weapons were not very impressive to a dragon warrior, but they were powerful enough to disturb the delicate balance of the tumbled stones. Beside him, one of the props gave out with an echoing crack, snapping under the strain. The roof shuddered lower.

  Bracing himself against the rocks above him, Markath strained and tried to keep them from collapsing on him. He had no idea how much weight was about to land on him, only that he had to survive it. Amanda was counting on him finding a way back to her, and he would not fail her. He refused to.

  His mate was in danger, and he would not permit that.

  The force of the stone bearing down on him made him cry out with pain and frustration as it squeezed him. But pain wasn't enough to make him give in and he braced his arms, refusing to let it crush him. Around him the stone shuddered and settled, rocks finding a new equilibrium. The pressure on his back lifted until Markath could relax.

  The roof held above him. He'd done it.

  If only he could shift, Markath knew that his warform would be strong enough to push these rocks aside and get free. But that wasn't possible. There was no space for the transformation down here, and if he tried it he'd be crushed before he could achieve anything. Even if he could change, that would reopen the wounds Amanda had sealed. The human medicine held him together better than he'd expected, but the demon tigers had left serious wounds.

  Starting to crawl again, Markath felt something give in the membrane of his right wing and gritted his teeth against the pain. Something, some shift of the rock, had driven a sharp edge through the soft tissue and trapped his wing. When he tried to move, it caught and tore, and there was no way to disentangle himself.

  Swearing, he pulled, feeling skin rip as his wing came free of the rock in tatters. The pain was blinding, among the worst things he'd ever felt, but he could keep moving. And he had to. There was no other option.

  The way back to the surface was sealed now, the new rockfall having blocked the thin rays of light which lit it before. Even if he thought he could fight his way clear of the exit, there was no longer a way to reach it. The only option he had left was to retreat into the hunting grounds.

  Getting clear of the rock seemed to take hours, but at last he managed to wriggle out of the tiny space and collapse on the tunnel floor. Panting for breath he lay there recovering for a while before pulling himself up and taking stock. Pulling his wing free had broken the bone, and the membrane was shredded. With medical attention it might heal, but until it did he wasn't going to fly anywhere.

  Black humor made him laugh. It's not as though I have anywhere to fly to, is it? The whole dead world is on the far side of that rockfall, and with it my mate.

  Markath didn't know what had happened to Amanda, and he had to stop himself from imagining the worst. Though his ears were keener than any human's, he hadn't been able to hear much over the noise he'd made scraping against the rocks. What little he had heard hadn't been good — a shout of warning, just before the shooting started. It had probably saved his life, but he feared that it might have cost Amanda hers. He didn't know how the attackers would deal with her, but it wasn't likely to be good.

  His heart felt like lead at the thought, and his world drained of color. The idea that he might have found his mate only for her to be plucked away from him like that was intolerable. Amanda had fought for him, against an armed man, and he'd been unable to do more than scurry in the darkness.

  I suppose I owe her an apology, he told himself, trying not to consider the possibility that he might never get to tell her. It seems I was wrong, and at least one human has a warrior's heart.

  Bracing himself against the wall, Markath straightened up. He wasn't going to give up, not when his mate had thrown herself into unbeatable odds for his sake. After the way he'd thought about her and her species, there had to be some way for him to make it up to Amanda. Even if that meant avenging her death, rather than rescuing her.

  No. She is still alive, Markath insisted. The universe cannot be so cruel as to snatch her from my grasp like this. And I will rescue her. I swear it by the Thousand Suns.

  There was no way to save her in here, though. Clearing a way through the rocks had been hard enough the first time, and that hadn't been under fire from an enemy. There was no way to do it quietly, and no way to avoid the gunman if he was waiting at the far side.

  Instead, Markath turned towards the false city and took a deep breath. At its center, he would find the hunting lodge of whatever nobleman had built this place, and perhaps there he'd find something to help him get out. As long as he didn't have to fly to reach the entrance, anyway.

  If nothing else, there might be working medical technology in there. If he could find a nanite bath to heal his wounds, he'd be able to shift again. In his warform, digging his way out would be much easier.

  Setting out, he kept a wary eye on his surroundings. Before he'd been too dangerous for the predators to trouble, and they seemed to carry a fear of dragons that had survived the centuries. But now he was injured and leaving a trail of blood, Markath wasn't confident that they would stay away. He almost hoped they wouldn't — if they attacked, at least he'd have something to take out his frustrations on.

  With an effort, he dismissed that thought. The creatures were dangerous, the wounds he'd gotten saving Amanda from them pro
ved that, and now he wasn't able to fly. Picking fights for the joy of it was one thing, but doing so when his mate's life was on the line was quite another. Amanda would need him, and in as close to one piece as he could manage.

  The city was eerily quiet around him as he entered it, the fog deadening any sounds, and without Amanda's company he felt more alone than he ever had before. A few short days ago he'd jealously guarded his private time, but now he'd have done anything to have her with him. Am I going soft? Markath wondered again, and then managed a small laugh. He'd wondered the same about Verikan, and the impact a human mate had made on him.

  With no dragon females to claim, this was the fate of every warrior who found a mate now. If their race was going to survive, to thrive, to rebuild, it would be with human mothers for the next generation. And that, suddenly, didn't seem so bad.

  Markath didn't think it was softness — a different kind of strength, that was all. Hopefully a strength that would see him and his kind through these dark times. But that was something to think about once he was free and held his mate in his arms again.

  Setting his shoulders, he aimed himself for the center of the city and pressed onward.

  For all Markath's concern, the journey to the tower in the middle of the city was uneventful. A few times he heard movement, and once he disturbed a flying animal about the size of an Earth cat, but nothing attacked him. Perhaps, even wounded, he reminded the animals here of the dragons who'd once hunted their ancestors. Or maybe he was simply lucky, though his circumstances made that seem unlikely. What kind of luck would leave a warrior injured, buried, and separated from his mate?

  The palace in front of him shone with flickering lights as he gazed up at it. By the standards of the old empire, it wasn't anything too impressive. Still, it was beyond the ability of anyone on Mars to build now. Made from a single piece of black crystal, grown to join the cave floor with the roof high above, it was impressive and showy. More so, in some ways, than Verikan's Imperial Palace at Marsport.