Radella shrugged. “In the world's eyes, the Guardians are Jechorian technology, and the Jechorians may do whatever they wish. Besides, it provides entertainment.” Her voice dripped with heavy sarcasm on that last word, but an opening door caught their attention as well as the attention of the Guardian.
He took a rifle from his back and pointed it at the intruder.
Curious, Lorrek watched. By the sharp, distinct sound of the invader's footsteps, he knew it was a woman. By her silhouette, he determined she wore a tight-fitting, short dress, and when she emerged from the shadows, he saw no weapon in her hands or on her person, but her striking red hair caught his attention. At first he thought it was Kyra, but his magic told him she was human. Lorrek slid Radella a puzzled glance, but Radella didn't acknowledge him.
The unarmored Guardian pointed his gun at the woman. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?” He took in her elegant appearance and noted the absence of weapons, and he frowned. “Are you from the government?”
She smiled but shook her head as she neared him—slowing her steps and raising her hands. “My name is Ceras. And before you try to kill me since I am an assassin, hear me out. I've rigged this place with jammers—disrupting the video feed as well as any listening devices planted here. To everyone else, you're here alone—still working.”
He narrowed his eyes, weapons still balanced in his hands. “Why should I trust you?”
Raising her elegant brows, she halted before him and folded her arms lightly. “Perhaps because I am not attacking you—”
“Not at this moment.”
She sighed. “Always distrusting. Every single one of you, and yes, I would know. Each time one of you wins the Guardian Games, I come offering my help, and each time, you refuse and die. When will one of you be smart enough to accept my help? I have a plan. It involves faking your death, so all the other Hunters will stop looking for you, and then I'll smuggle you out of Jechorm, and you can live freely.”
With eyes still narrowed and hands clutching his guns, he jutted his chin toward her. “What's in it for you?”
A coy smile slid across her lips. “Oh, let's just say I cannot wait to bring an end to the Guardian Program.”
“Why?”
“Personal reasons.”
For a long moment they stared at each other—her waiting, and him trying to decide whether or not to trust her.
Finally, he withdrew his guns and holstered them. “Well, I'm not going anywhere without my armor.”
Ceras threw her pale hands in the air with an exasperated sigh. “That is what they all say! And that is how they're killed.” She crossed her arms once more and scowled at him. “The Director isn't stupid. He knows you'll come after it, and he placed it in a heavily guarded location. None of the other Guardians have managed to retrieve theirs yet either!”
He grinned at her. “None of them are me.”
The image shimmered and faded out of view, and Lorrek turned back to Radella with furrowed brows. She nodded in the direction where the Guardian had been. “He died. He managed to retrieve the armor, but it had been rigged to explode. Ceras didn't know that. Next Guardian Games, she'll wait for the winner to emerge and approach him or her with the same proposition and this time insist they give up their armor. Maybe they'll listen to her, but none of them have yet.”
“Why are you showing me all of this?” He gestured to their surroundings as they morphed into familiar corridors. “I have nothing to do with any of this.”
“Ah, but you have power.” She brushed past him, then halted, and turned back. “And you use that power to help others. Who needs help more than the defenseless children thrown away by their parents and forced to grow up believing that they are only pieces of technology? Think on it.” She watched him turn to leave. “There is one thing more.” Radella's voice caught his attention, and he looked across the room to her. “They are building something—something dangerous, and I think it is being built to target magic users.”
Lorrek furrowed his brows. “How do you know all this?”
She smiled at him sadly and spread her hands out. “I've had a lot of time to wander.”
Lorrek nodded. This made sense, but he could tell there was something more. He narrowed his eyes. “What do you want for all this information?”
The smile on her face didn't falter, but it turned more sinister. “It is not what I want for the information, but rather my silence.” When Lorrek looked at her in confusion, she eased up to him. “I will alert no one of your...expeditions...” She motioned to the room as if indicating to his ventures into the magic realm. “In exchange, I want you to tell my mother to leave me alone.”
Now even more confused, Lorrek frowned then shook his head. “Countess Verddra will not want to do that. As soon as she hears I had communication with you, she will stop at nothing to reach out to you. She is trying to heal you.”
“Yet all she does is hurt me.” Radella's dark brown eyes flared with fury.
Lorrek recognized when to concede, and he stepped back, bowing his head. Then he tucked his hands behind his back and lifted his head, straightening his shoulders. “Is that all you request for your silence?” He watched her glowing figure. He tried to imagine her as the unresponsive girl lying in that bed several corridors away behind a locked door, but here, her spirit shone brilliant—nothing like the girl he saw.
In an instant, she was in his face and whisked around him like a ghost but then stopped in front of him and stared deep into his eyes.
Captured by her fervent attention, Lorrek dared not blink or swallow as her intense stare stripped layer after layer away of his mental guard—not as an invasion or a threat but rather a curiosity to see if he could be trusted. At last, she came to a shield he refused to let down, and when she knocked against it, his own eyes hardened into a glare, and she noticed and backed down.
“Roskelem...” With that single name on her lips, Radella faded, and Lorrek emerged from the magic realm—still standing in front of the window, but now the sun was rising. He had been standing all night, yet he knew there was no time to sleep. Atheta, Therth, and the others were bound to come to him as he had requested, and now he had much to contemplate before meeting them.
Frowning, Lorrek sank into a chair, lost in thought.
Segment 8
Still sitting in the chair an hour later, Lorrek watched Loroth and Vixen enter the room. By the weariness in their eyes, he knew sleep had evaded them as well last night. While Loroth took a seat on the couch beside Lorrek, Vixen went to the only desk in the room and picked an apple off the refreshment tray. Unsheathing one of her blades, she began to peel the apple and eat it while pacing. She looked over at Lorrek.
Acknowledging her with a nod, Lorrek shifted his gaze to his cousin, who looked drained of all strength. Lorrek wondered how he would survive another day of magic extraction.
“She couldn't sleep.” Loroth tilted his head in Vixen's direction.
Lorrek could only imagine that Vixen had woken herself up throughout the night out of fear that her husband might pass away at any moment due to the stress of the procedure. Yet he saw no need to voice this as Therth and Atheta entered the room.
Therth opened the door and held it open for her, and Atheta bowed her head shyly as she smiled and stepped into the room. The sight caused the corner of Lorrek's lips to turn up in a small smile. At least Atheta had accepted Therth's existence, and perhaps the two would become good friends throughout their stay here.
Atheta noted Vixen's presence with surprise but then realized how unconcerned everyone else was at having a known assassin in their midst. She forced herself to relax with a sigh and took a seat directly in front of Lorrek while Therth sat on the arm of the couch opposite of his brother.
“Lorrek, you look terrible.” Therth decided to state the obvious as a way to break the silence.
The prince of Cuskelom inclined his head and looked back at Therth. “It suits my purpose.”
&n
bsp; “Which is?” Vixen narrowed her eyes as she crossed her arms. She had a bad feeling since they first set foot in Jechorm, and it had yet to fade.
Lorrek set his eyes upon Loroth’s wife then smiled—knowing what reaction his answer would unleash. “I will be doubling as Loroth for the next operation.” With that, he sat back and waited.
“What?” Vixen uncrossed her arms and shifted to tackle Lorrek—ready to demand answers—but she noticed the slight lift of her husband's hand and the way he turned his head to catch her eye. “Not now.” She heard his thoughts in her mind, so she frowned but backed down.
Therth, however, picked up where Vixen had left off. “Are you insane? They'll extract your magic, and since you have more of it than Loroth, imagine what it will do to you.”
“He's right.” Atheta joined in. “I've seen what it does to magic users, and the more powerful have a worse experience.”
“I will do what I must.” Lorrek remained unmoved. “Suffer the consequences as I may.”
“Don't expect Loroth to heal you after your stupidity harms you.”
Lorrek looked to the glaring Vixen and smirked. “Of course not, and I would not ask it of him.” With that, he shifted his gaze upon his cousin, who watched the entire scene unfold in silence.
Finally, Loroth spoke, “Lorrek.” When the cousins locked eyes, he furrowed his brows. “Why? Why now?”
Sighing, Lorrek ducked his head as he hunched over in his chair with his elbows braced on his knees and hands clasped together. He thought back to his night in the realm of magic and all the things he had seen—the magic through the cables hidden in the walls, the unwanted and unborn babies taken from wombs of their mothers, the mysterious presence of the Guardians, and the surprise visit with Radella. None of which he could readily explain without more questions arising than he had answers.
Lifting his head, he looked at every single individual in the room. Loroth, his original purpose for coming here. Vixen, her determination to stay at her husband's side. Therth, torn between his loyalties to his brother, to Atheta, and to Lorrek. However, Lorrek fixed his gaze on Atheta to find her disturbed by Therth's existence and troubled by something yet to be spoken, and Lorrek had the suspicion it had to do with her father, Roskelem.
“Lorrek.” Vixen's harsh voice yanked him out of his thoughts, and he remembered Loroth's question of 'why', so Lorrek sighed.
“The magic is not being infused into Vixen.” He shifted his gaze from Loroth to Vixen. “It's being transferred through hidden cables throughout the building to...I don't know what quite yet, but that is why I need your help—all of your help.” He skimmed his eyes over the others in the room. “This is very important. I fear the Jechorians are working to build something terrible.”
The others exchanged glances with each other. Therth wasn't about to volunteer himself if his brother and Atheta objected to it. Atheta preferred not to offer her help until she knew the full extent of the situation. Vixen didn't want to get off course of finding a remedy for her husband. Only Loroth stared back at his cousin weighing the matters in his mind, and then he nodded. “What do you need us to do?”
Lorrek looked at Loroth and smiled, relieved.
Lorrek: “First, as soon as we finish talking here, I will go to Verddra. I have something to tell her...”
Lorrek waited outside of Radella's room like he had before. He knew Verddra read to her daughter, so he waited, and she emerged after a few minutes. When she saw him, she frowned, but he straightened from his posture leaning against the wall and went up to her. “Radella told me to tell you to leave her alone. She says you're hurting her.” With that, he turned on his heel to leave, but then suddenly felt the grip of magic around him, preventing any movement.
When he looked back, he saw Verddra staring at him with disbelieving eyes. “You spoke with her—Radella?”
Lorrek gave her a sharp nod. “Yes.”
“What...what did she say?” Hope filled Verddra's soul, and she trembled with emotions she had long hidden.
Knowing he could not fight the grip of magic Verddra had on him, Lorrek phased through it as he approached her. He looked down at her with an emotionless stare. “As I said, she asks you to leave her alone.” With that, he walked away—Verddra's magic unable to grab his incorporeal form.
Lorrek: “While I'm doing that, Atheta, find Erita and Inecha. I want them to help Vixen...”
Atheta walked through the corridors at a brisk pace. She turned the corner and was startled when Erita appeared in front of her. “Erita!” Atheta reached out for the nearest wall while she placed her hand on her chest to calm her racing heart. “Why do magic users always feel the need to scare their friends to death?”
Erita smiled. “I wanted to catch you before you went on to Inecha's because she just contacted me and told me that Verddra has asked for her. She won't be able to join us.”
Hearing this, Atheta frowned. This wasn't a part of Lorrek's plan, but they had to adjust accordingly. “Very well. Come with me.” With that, Atheta changed directions, and Erita fell into step with her.
Lorrek: “Vixen and I—posing as you, Loroth—will go to the operation room...”
Vixen and Lorrek—who was now dressed in the common patient garb of gray and black—stopped outside the door of the operation room. Lorrek adopted his cousin's quieter demeanor and offered Vixen a slight smile.
She clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes with one final, wordless protest, but then pushed the controls on the side of the door to open it. Inside the room, she noticed Asalda and Pelham waiting, but Verddra was nowhere to be seen. “Still, I don't like this.” Vixen shot Lorrek a look.
“Good.” Lorrek's chuckle rippled through their connection. “You appear most normal when you're unsettled.” As he stepped into the room, he realized the furniture had been rearranged to the setup he had observed previously when he had followed the cables to an operation room. Only two chairs remained in the room, and each one was fastened to the floor and connected with cables. Lorrek wasn't surprised by the change, but he knew Loroth would be, so he frowned and looked at Pelham. “Different setup.”
Pelham nodded and gestured for Lorrek to have a seat. “We're ready to move on to the next stage of the operation.” He motioned for Vixen to sit in the other chair, but Lorrek barred his arm across her chest.
“Vixen...my wife won't be a part of today's procedure. The previous operation left her with a terrible headache that only worsens every hour. I will not allow her health to deteriorate.”
“Lo, I—” Vixen stepped up as a dutiful, protesting wife, and not for the first time she was glad that both her husband and his cousin had similar names.
“We've discussed this.” Lorrek said over his shoulder but kept his arms crossed as he watched Pelham for a response. “She will not observe today's operation either because I do not trust any of you while I am preoccupied.” He shifted his gaze from Pelham to Asalda and back to Pelham again.
The two Jechorians shared a glance, but then Asalda lifted an easy smile on her lips. “Very well.” She approached Vixen. “Please, allow me to escort you back to your suites where you can get some sleep and recover.”
Vixen yanked her arm out of Asalda's grasp and glared at her. Then she cast Lorrek another look. “Lo, I would much rather stay...”
He spun around and walked up to her, placing gentle hands on her shoulders. “Please, Vix, I don't want to have to worry about you.”
She stared up at him, into the face and eyes that mirrored her husband’s. For a moment she forgot it was Lorrek and not Loroth.
Until he leaned down and kissed her.
She stiffened and almost pulled back to unsheathe a blade from her vest, but Lorrek's amused voice invaded her mind, “Relax. This is part of the show.”
Reluctantly, Vixen forced herself to relax and return the kiss, but she pushed back into Lorrek's mind. “When this is all finished, I am going to kill you.”
Lorrek pulled back an
d flashed her a grin. “Looking forward to it.” With that, he nodded to the door then watched as she turned away and left the room.
Gathering a deep breath, Lorrek turned to face Pelham and Asalda. They motioned to the chair, and he went to it and sat down then watched as they began strapping wires to him.
Lorrek: “After that, Vixen, I want you to meet Atheta and her friends outside the fighting arena...”
Waiting at the entrance of the fighting arena, Atheta informed Erita of Vixen's skills, so when the former assassin finally stormed into view with a dark look on her face and hands curled into fists at her side, Erita tilted her head and smiled. “You look ready to kill someone. I'm Erita, by the way. I’ve heard a lot about you, Vixen—the Assassin of Blades. Your work is amazing!” Erita reached out to shake hands with the assassin.
Vixen looked at the hand then the face of the woman named Erita, then looked at Atheta, then the empty space between them. “Where's Inecha? I thought Lorrek told you to get both of them.”
Realizing her invitation to friendship had been declined, Erita withdrew her hand and crossed her arms. “Inecha was preoccupied.”
“Erita will work just as well.”
“Very well.” Vixen nodded then looked into the training arena. The room looked bigger in person. Fighting mats divided the room into numerous fighting grounds. She noted that in most fighting rings only two people fought—hand-to-hand, with weapons, or with magic, but Vixen knew that was about to change. She looked back at Atheta. “Are they here?”
“Skelton and Adonis?” Atheta lifted her brows then motioned to two men grappling on the floor.
“Do they know anything?”
“Not a clue.” Atheta smiled.
Vixen returned the smirk and nodded to Atheta. “You had best be on your way.” With that, she gestured for Erita to follow, and when the other woman fell into step, she asked, “How many Guardians watch the sparring matches?”
The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set Page 29
