by Vi Voxley
She would have given everything to know what he was arguing about with his warriors. Then she could attempt to exploit it. Until then, she had to shoot in the dark.
And speaking of shooting, at Arboc's signal, a warrior approached and disarmed her. The Yemalan hadn't bothered. Glimpsing behind her, she could see the unit slinking away from the Corgans.
No love lost here.
The warrior took her gun and even the Yemalan glove she'd come to like. Zoey held her breath as the man groped her, coming within inches of finding the device hidden in the folds of her uniform. His touch was revolting. Another man's hands on her seemed inexplicably wrong. No one but Daegon should have touched her.
Zoey suffered through it without saying a word, swallowing her disgust.
Arboc looked at the glove with amusement.
"Where did you get that?" he asked.
Seeing an opportunity to humiliate him, Zoey replied, "On the Yemalan mothership. It's what gave you that scar."
She had been right. Arboc's face twisted with rage and it occurred to her that it might not have been her best idea to provoke an insane warlord. The man might have been a traitor and a coward, but he was still a Corgan clan lord. If he wanted, he could have killed her right then and there. Zoey had to hope that his desire to make Nadar Brenger's defeat as painful as possible was stronger than his hate for her.
She saw the warlord's eyes flick around in the room, judging the men standing there. None of them seemed particularly glad to be there, but they hadn't challenged Arboc either. It was pretty clear that his life depended on the outcome of his mission. If he were to fail, those men wouldn't protect him out of loyalty. They were like hyenas, waiting for Arboc to slip, so they could either watch his throat get slit or do it themselves.
"You little bitch," Arboc hissed in response. "You shouldn't be running your mouth like that. Do you want to die? Daegon isn't here to save you this time."
When did my dying became an "if", Zoey wondered.
Out loud, she said, "He will always come for me, have no fear."
Arboc laughed again and there was a maniacal edge to it.
"I'm not afraid of Daegon," he said, his blue eyes shining with delight. "He may believe that. He clearly convinced you of that, but that doesn't make it true. Me and him will settle our score soon enough."
Now that was not something Zoey had expected, but it only confirmed her deepest fears that her plan was absolutely necessary. If only she knew how to begin.
Arboc solved that problem for her. Giving her a judging look, he began to walk in a circle around her.
"The raider scum tells me that you came here alone," he murmured. "Like you wanted to be caught. Why?"
Zoey's mind was working frantically, trying to make sure she didn't slip up. She'd prepared an answer for that question, hoping that Arboc would believe her.
"To negotiate with you," she replied.
Now other warriors joined in with the joke, but Zoey remained serious. All she had to do was lead Arboc on, nothing more. A guy like that would gladly dig his own grave.
"There is nothing that can stop me, girl," Arboc replied, grinning. "But there is something you could give me."
"What is that?" Zoey asked, hoping that it would give her the opportunity she was waiting for.
"The Union," Arboc replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Zoey stared.
"You hate the Union," she stated. "Isn't that your whole point? That you don't want us here."
"Ultimately, yes," Arboc agreed. "But right now, I could make use of your fighters."
So this is what you were arguing about. You're losing and they're pissed at you.
Zoey jumped for it like a lifeline.
"Don't you have the Yemalan?" she asked. "Aren't they enough?"
There, the fury she'd been counting on flared to life. All the Corgan warriors in the room tensed up, bristling at the veiled insult that they needed the raiders' aid to accomplish their goal.
"Them," Arboc hissed as Zoey leaned in as far as she dared to catch his words better. "They are nothing but dirt under our boots. The more of them Daegon kills, the better. Less for me to deal with after this is done."
Zoey had to fight hard not to smile, to dance with joy. If that was what victory felt like, she was beginning to understand warriors and their obsession with it.
"But you promised them Poural," she said, trying to keep her voice as surprised as possible.
"I told you," Arboc snarled, his features twisted by rage. "I wouldn't give those wretches one inch of a Corgan world. Nadar Brenger sold our holy world to you. Do you think I would do the same?"
His warriors were mumbling approvingly while Zoey's soul cheered him on.
"So that's why you want the Union," she said. "To help exterminate the Yemalan after you betray them."
Arboc towered over her suddenly and Zoey backed away. The clan lord was teeming with fury as he stared down at her.
"Betray?" he asked. "You can't betray them. They are animals. I throw them at Daegon and when I'm done with him, I will throw them away. That is all."
Daring to look behind her, Zoey saw the unit that had escorted her standing not far away. Their vile expressions hadn't changed, so clearly they didn't speak Corgan.
She had to be careful now. Zoey held the most powerful weapon in the war in her uniform pocket, but like all weapons, it was useless if she couldn't wield it. She needed to get out of the temple without alerting Arboc.
It felt like trying to walk on eggshells – she'd tried that as a kid and ended up with bleeding toes. Zoey hoped this time would go better.
"I see no reason to help you," she said with more feeling than she felt, hoping she was pressing the right button. "The Union wants to deal with Nadar. You would simply set everything back the way it was."
Arboc drew one of his swords almost lazily and Zoey winced when it found its familiar place on her neck.
"Yes," the clan lord said quietly. "I will. And you will help me, one way or another. I can either kill you right now or you can call those fancy fighters to provide support to us. Your choice."
Zoey waited a few moments, staring at Arboc with hate she didn't need to fake, to make her submission more believable.
"I can try," she said finally. "I can't promise they will. Our captain is a Palian."
Hiding the lie within truths was a trick she'd been taught, and Arboc swallowed the bait. The warlord grinned savagely, allowing his sword to inch closer to her skin.
"Then you should try harder," he said. "Take her away."
The last sentence was said in sloppy Yemalan, as bad as hers. Zoey gave them all one more angry look and let the Yemalan unit march her away. The last part of her plan had come and her heart beat so hard it almost drowned the screaming in the temple. There was no guarantee that the Yemalan wouldn't kill the messenger first if she succeeded.
She waited and waited, walking between her guards. Arboc's warriors were everywhere, not giving her a chance to talk to the Yemalan. Looking at their lurking forms, Zoey could see why very few would even consider the idea.
An officer. She needed a Yemalan officer.
They came to some kind of a station at last. Arboc had ordered them to bring her somewhere she could contact the Union. The Yemalan poked at her with their tridents again, motioning to the consoles. Zoey looked around in desperation. She didn't know how much time she had before Arboc came to check up on her.
With no officers around, she had to try. Turning to the Yemalan, she tried to speak as clearly as she could, "Wait. Talk. Danger to Yemalan. Call officer."
She memorized every phrase, carefully learning all the words she might need. If any of them asked questions, she wouldn't be able to answer. She wouldn't even be able to understand the question.
The Yemalan looked at her weirdly. Zoey repeated her words two more times, feeling the temple shake beneath her feet. It was a nice metaphor for how fucked up things were.
>
Finally understanding dawned on the faces of the Yemalan. They spoke quickly among themselves and Zoey thought she could hear her words being repeated. At last one of them turned to her, speaking very slowly. It took him a few tries for Zoey to understand that they were saying her words back to her. Her pronunciation had been horribly off, but she nodded quickly.
One of the Yemalan spoke into their comm link. Zoey stood, waiting with them, trying to banish the images that paraded before her eyes. Everything stood on the brink. If Arboc listened in on Yemalan comms, if the officer didn't listen to her. If any Corgan, any at all, happened to walk in on them...
It seemed like a lifetime had passed when a Yemalan officer finally entered the room. His eyes were cruel and small, holding Zoey in their gaze.
Drawing a deep breath, she said in Yemalan, "Corgans betray you. Arboc betray you. Speak Corgan?"
A long minute passed while the officer stared at her. Zoey couldn't tell whether he was considering her words or trying to figure out the best way to kill her.
"I speak," the officer finally replied in Corgan.
With shaking hands, Zoey fumbled around in the pocket of her uniform, pulling the recording device out. In fighters, it was used to keep track of verbal in-ship orders. She pressed play and Arboc's voice began to speak.
The Yemalan listened. The regular soldiers didn't understand, but when Arboc got to the point, the officer's entire face changed. He screeched, making Zoey jump back. For a second, she thought the Yemalan was going to kill her in his disappointed rage. But with self-control she hadn't seen in a Yemalan before, the creature stopped, his claws inches from her face.
Zoey was reminded with morbid clarity that she was unarmed, completely helpless to defend herself.
The officer stared at her but didn't attack. Zoey hoped that maybe the shock had knocked some sense into them.
"Lie," the officer choked in Corgan.
"Truth," Zoey replied in his language, hoping that showed her in a better light. "Arboc betray. No world."
The Yemalan officer roared now, nearly deafening her for real. Then Zoey pressed on, saying what she'd really come to say. If Arboc could use that trick, so could she. After all, she was a Union negotiator, broker of peace and unity.
"Me – Union. Union give world. Union not betray. Not this world. Another."
That got the Yemalan's attention. His eyes were filled to the brink with hate and suspicion, and Zoey couldn't blame him. His whole species had just been used to fight a war for someone who considered them animals. There was no reason for him to trust her.
Switching to Corgan for clarity, she tried to put as much conviction into her words as she possibly could, "The Union doesn't think you're animals. We will give you a world. But not this one. An empty one. If you help us."
After another moment that lasted forever, the Yemalan said, "Yes."
The relief was so great that Zoey felt it overwhelm her. Had she done it, had she really done it? She hoped the officer was high-ranked enough to be able to make that kind of a promise. She wanted to ask him, but there were noises in the corridor outside.
Corgans. Not the good kind.
The Yemalan officer turned to her.
"World," he said. "Our world."
"I promise," Zoey replied. "I won't betray you."
Then the officer opened his comm link and spoke into it. With every word, the Yemalan soldiers behind him livened, until they were howling and stomping their feet. Zoey could hear the screaming outside grow louder. Now the screams of the victims mixed with the shrill voices of the Yemalan.
She realized she had to get away, fast. There would be no talking to Arboc anymore.
Leaving the Yemalan to enact their revenge, she dashed out of the room. Looking back the way she'd come, Zoey saw Arboc and his warriors standing at the other end of a long hallway.
She'd done it. She had gotten the Yemalan to change sides, which meant that the little unarmed girl in a great big war was now the target of every Corgan warrior Arboc had.
Zoey turned on her heels and ran.
Daegon.
She needed to reach Daegon before Arboc caught her. Execution was out of the picture and eternal torture was much more likely.
Chapter Nineteen
Daegon
No stairs had ever felt longer or steeper.
Daegon took four steps at a time, cutting down everyone who stood in his way. Zoey's scream kept repeating in his mind, cutting more deeply with every second that passed. Down below he could see only mayhem. His warriors and the Union were trying to figure out what was going on and how to deal with the Yemalan, but it was obvious enough for him.
Zoey had somehow gotten the raiders to switch sides. If he had to guess, Daegon would have thought that it was Arboc's fault. He had taken such pride in his intention to betray the creatures that it was no wonder it only needed a small push for the truth to come out.
With the Yemalan out of the way, it only left Arboc's clan. Together with the Union and perhaps even the Yemalan – although it felt odd to rely on them – there was no question of who would be the victor. All Arboc could do now was take everything he could down with him.
And that included Zoey.
Mainly her, Daegon thought, now that she'd dealt a much worse wound to him than the one on his neck.
He rushed past Yemalan troops that stood out of the way as he ran. It took him a few moments to see that they were pointing.
Zoey's coming truly had changed the world he lived in, Daegon thought, dashing on. If someone had told him a week, no, even one day ago that he would be following Yemalan directions... And now he trusted them with Zoey's life.
The thing was, they were all pointing in one direction. Daegon had been in the temple before and knew very well where the hallway he was running through was leading. Zoey clearly hadn't, otherwise she would never have run for a dead end.
And not just any dead end.
The temple's original purpose was unknown, even to the Corgans themselves. Their best guess was that the builders had intended The Chieftain to be exactly that, a stronghold for their people. It was suitable for living in, if properly furnished and replenished.
And the architects hadn't forgotten aesthetics either. The statue was of a Corgan warrior, a leader of his people. That meant he had two swords. He held one of them fairly loosely in his hand, but that was deceptive. It was an old move and the hand could rise with the speed of lightning to strike at any weakness the enemy showed.
The other hand was outstretched, holding an invisible enemy at point. That sword, longer than an average cruiser ship, was a platform. People could walk on it and enjoy the view it offered of Poural.
That's where Daegon was headed, and it was where Arboc had gone too, judging by the fact that he had to fight tougher and tougher enemies. A part of him admired the other clan lord. Even in his defeat, his warriors remained loyal.
Daegon could see bitter disappointment in their blue eyes, when several captains faced him. They might have hated Arboc for his failure, but they loathed him and Nadar more.
He understood. They were Corgans, after all. Death meant nothing compared to conviction. They believed he was wrong and the fact that they knew he would kill them didn't matter. It was merely the end they'd chosen a long while ago when they’d decided to oppose him.
Considering that he had had doubts about Nadar's new way as well, Daegon almost felt sorry for them. It reflected in nothing other than quick deaths. He could have made them painful and agonizingly long, but the warlord aimed at hearts and lungs and throats. Not only because he needed to reach Zoey, but since in their defiance, Arboc's warriors were much greater men than the lord himself.
He hid, not only behind the backs of his warriors, but behind Zoey as well.
Bright light bit at his eyes when Daegon emerged on the platform and a familiar sight greeted him. Even Zoey seemed a bit embarrassed by being found at sword point, again.
Daegon didn'
t care. It would be the last time. If they lived through the day, he would start locking her up every time he went to war.
A thought crossed his mind – he had already decided that Zoey would stay with him, but there was no other way. After all they'd gone through, they deserved it.
Arboc said nothing. This time, Zoey sat on the ground with her back to the platform's edge. Daegon had to fight the urge to simply carve out the traitor's heart with his bare hands, seeing signs of Arboc's fists on her beautiful face. She looked at Daegon, tears of pain rolling down her cheeks, but her smile was victorious.
"You're alive," she whispered. "And I did it, I –"
A poke from Arboc's sword shut her up. The uniform she wore was torn and the traitor's sword stabbed at her exposed flesh. With a groan, Zoey pressed her hand down on the wound.
Daegon took a step closer, but Arboc held up his hand. There was no sign of the sick joy he'd spoken with before. No emotion at all, only resolve. With empty eyes, the other lord looked at Daegon.
"That's a pretty impressive run," he said tiredly. "Some men wouldn't have reached the platform so quickly, even if there weren't extremely skilled warriors in the way."
Only one emotion seemed to have stayed. Cruelty seeped into his blue eyes as the traitor's thin lips curled in a humorless smirk.
"You must love her."
Daegon didn't reply. He couldn't find any words. Seeing Zoey slumped over, bleeding, had stopped him. Together, they'd taken everything from Arboc. How did you bargain with a man who had nothing left to lose?
With any other warrior, he would have emphasized their honor. It was a fitting end, for them to duel for the victory, finding out once and for all who was better. But Arboc had no pride in his body, only hatred.
The traitor's grin got wider.
"You do," he stated. "How beautiful. I can do this much then, at least. There is nothing for me but death, I know that. The men below, your warriors, the Yemalan... I can't use her against them. Less sentimental, you know. So I think I'll meet my end in another way and take her along."
