by Luna Voss
I sit next to Kalish at breakfast, picking at my food. I’m almost too excited to eat. “I heard that there are some warriors leaving for New Sutter to go to the auction today?” I inquire, try not to sound too interested.
“That’s true,” he replies. “But I wouldn’t get your hopes up too much if you’re thinking they might bring back another human to keep you company. Trips to the auction are not often fruitful.”
After breakfast, I head to the place at the outskirts of the settlement where Kalish revealed that the auction party would be leaving from. Seven burly Kyrzon males show up, along with tusk-oxen and a carriage.
“I will be accompanying you to the auction,” I announce, gathering my confidence. “Drokal has ordered that I join you so that I can help you evaluate the females who are being sold.”
They look surprised, but not suspicious. The largest one of them shrugs. “I suppose I can see the value in it. You will be riding in the carriage, I assume?”
“Yes,” I say, my mind working quickly.
“Seems a little dangerous for a human,” one of the Kyrzons grunts.
“If Drokal ordered it, we must obey,” says the big warrior. “Besides, perhaps she will be of use. She is more familiar with humans than any of us.”
After only a little more discussion, I climb into the carriage, and before I know it, I’m staring out the window as Clan Drokal’s capital disappears into the distance behind me.
That was easier than I expected.
Human Territory, here I come.
* * *
I remember my original journey from Human Territory to Drokal’s settlement being long, slow, and arduous. In this smaller group, however, we are able to move much faster. I sit in the carriage along with dozens of power cells, staring at the scenery as it passes by. It really is beautiful. Growing up, I was always taught to see the wilderness as dangerous, terrifying, and something to be avoided. Now that I have more experience, and am accompanied by seven scary-looking Kyrzon warriors, I’m a little more able to appreciate the planet’s natural beauty.
I listen in to their conversation as we ride. They spend the whole day talking about human women. How attractive they find them, what physical features they look for, what qualities they want to find in a mate. How much extra they would be willing to spend for certain desirable attributes.
The whole thing gives me a fascinating insight into the Kyrzon relationship with the auction process. The warriors speak crudely, yes, and it’s clear that physical attractiveness and aptitude for childbearing are highly prized. But at the same time, I hear them lamenting the fragility that they assume human women to have, and comparing their personalities unfavorably to Kyrzon women. It’s clear that these men are looking for someone they can develop a real connection with, rather than just an object for breeding.
I find myself bristling at some of the assumptions I hear them making about humans, but I don’t bother to correct them. Who cares if they think my species is weak and fragile and not suited to a rugged life? Pretty soon, I’ll be living in Human Territory, and they’ll be on their way back to Castle Drok. Let them have their misconceptions.
We stop at dusk to make camp, and the warriors set up tents. I elect to sleep in the carriage, where I find myself more than comfortable. The next morning, we ride on, and I once again entertain myself by eavesdropping on their conversation. This time, they’re a little more crass, and spend most of the afternoon talking about boobs, butts, and other body parts. I listen with amusement. They may be huge, muscular Kyrzon warriors, but right now, they sound like human teenage boys.
We’re interrupted at one point by a raptor attack, which the warriors repel easily using the same tactics I saw before. We continue moving, and I notice that the scenery is becoming more and more familiar.
“How long until we reach Human Territory?” I ask, sticking my head out the window of the carriage.
“Not long,” one of the warriors tells me. “We should reach New Sutter before dark.”
My heart dances with excitement. I’m so close. So close to being home, so close to seeing Julia again, so close to being able to resume the life I left behind.
The image of Drokal’s face flashes into my mind, and I feel my excitement start to fade. I really am going to miss him. Say what you will about him being a brutal warlord, but nobody else has ever made me feel the way I feel when I’m with him.
I’m really going to miss him.
Trying to distract myself, I imagine myself reintegrating into human society. Returning to work with Thomas. Going to the saloon with Julia. Meeting a human man, probably a farmer, and eventually, becoming his wife.
The images I’m creating in my mind are not as satisfying as I had hoped they would be. The idea of returning to a simple life in New Sutter, full of people who have never experienced the outside world, is actually a little bit stifling.
I’m sure I’ll feel better once I’m actually home.
* * *
Regardless of my internal conflict, I feel a huge sense of relief when I look out the window and see a familiar landscape. We’re finally in Human Territory. We make camp outside of New Sutter, and my Kyrzon companions decide to stay by their tents, tired from travel. I head into the settlement on foot, my eyes peeled for Julia or any other familiar face.
“Cleo?”
I hear the voice from behind me. I spin around, and see Julia running toward me, her arms outstretched. She throws her arms around me and we embrace tightly.
“I never thought I would see you again,” she says, squeezing me. “I can’t believe you made it here safely.”
“Traveling the wilderness is surprisingly safe when you have a Kyrzon escort,” I tell her.
She wrinkles her eyebrows. “What?”
“Never mind,” I say, laughing. “Julia, it’s so good to see you. I missed you so much. What’s changed in New Sutter since I’ve been gone?”
“Not much,” Julia laughs. “It’s not like you’ve been gone for a very long a time.” She hugs me again. “Cleo, it’s just so amazing that you were able to come back. Is this going to create problems with Clan Drokal?”
I think about my mate, and the disappointment he will likely experience upon realizing that I’ve abandoned him. I remember the last time I saw him, and the intimacy we shared. I don’t believe that Drokal would do anything violent to reclaim me, but the thought of never seeing him again brings me an amount of sadness that I hadn’t prepared for.
“No, I don’t think there will be problems with Clan Drokal,” I say, swallowing my emotions.
“That’s good,” my friend says happily. “Want to get a drink?”
I force a smile. “That sounds great! Let’s go to the saloon.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“It’s an Auction Day tomorrow,” says Julia as we approach the saloon. “The whole place is going to be filled with Kyrzons. We should probably take our drinks to go.”
“I don’t mind drinking around a couple of warriors,” I tell her. After living for the last week in a Kyrzon settlement, the idea doesn’t phase me in the slightest.
Julia gives me a funny look, but she nods, and holds the door to the saloon open for me.
“Cleo!” Ernie exclaims as we approach the bar. “I can’t believe it’s really you! What are you doing here?”
“She’s come back for good,” Julia tells him happily.
Ernie just stares at me. Like most humans, he’s probably never met a Bride who has returned to the human world. It’s something that almost never happens.
“It’s really her,” says Julia, rolling her eyes. “See? Same old Cleo.”
“It’s really me,” I confirm, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
Ernie shakes his head in amazement. “It’s good to see you again,” he says. “I’m glad you made it back safe.” He glances at the horde of Kyrzon warriors drinking and yelling nearby. “I suppose you to want your drinks to go?”
“No, we’ll take them in here,” I say,
amused at the shocked look on Ernie’s face.
Julia and I get our drinks, and then sit down at the one table in the saloon that isn’t taken up by warriors.
“You’ve changed,” she remarks as we sit down. “You used to hate going to the saloon before Auction Days.”
“I guess I just don’t really notice the Kyrzons anymore,” I say. “I’m so used to them.”
We talk as we sip our drinks. Julia is filled with questions about my experience at the auction, and with Clan Drokal. She’s surprised to hear that I didn’t find Kyrzon settlement to be much less comfortable than New Sutter, and even more so to hear me speak positively about the chief who purchased me.
“And did you…” she trails off, looking awkward.
“What?” I ask her, not understanding what she means.
Julia’s face turns red. “Did you… you know. Did you, uh… mate with him?”
I chuckle. “Yeah. I did.”
She leans forward, looking intensely curious. “And how was it? What was it like?”
I think for a moment, trying to decide how best to sum up my experience.
“… Good,” I tell her finally, my cheeks growing warm. “Really good.”
She giggles. “I didn’t expect you to say that.”
We are interrupted by the sound of shouting from one of the groups of Kyrzons next to us. Something has them particularly animated. I’m about to say something Julia, when I hear Drokal’s name. I freeze with my mouth open, listening.
“What did you—” Julia starts to speak, but I hold up my hand, cutting her off.
Listening carefully, I can make out pieces of the conversation from the Kyrzon table:
“Chief Broga is going to kill him, right?”
“Of course. Right after the attack on Drokal Territory. The Chief wants him to know that his clan has been defeated before he dies.”
“Fuck, I wish I could be there to see it. Chief Drokal, a prisoner. I wish I could be there when they storm Castle Drok and kill his fucking warriors.”
“Me, too. Hopefully, we’ll have some pretty human women to console us on the way back. It sucks that we’re missing all the fun.”
I snap back to Julia, my eyes wide. “I have to go,” I tell her.
Her face falls. “What? Why?”
“I can’t tell you here,” I say, very aware of the Broga warriors within earshot.
Julia follows after me as I leave the saloon. “What happened?” she asks, looking confused. “Where are you going?”
“I have to get back to Clan Drokal,” I tell her. “They’re in danger.”
“Kyrzons are always in danger!” she tries to reason with me. “They fight with each other all the time! Why is this different?”
“Because I care,” I say, feeling a sudden conviction. “Because they’ve captured my mate, and the clan I care about is in danger.”
“Your mate?” she repeats, shock in her voice. “Cleo, you just escaped from Chief Drokal. Now that he’s in danger, you want to go back to him?”
“Yes,” I say, my mind already made up.
Whatever indecision I’ve been dealing with since leaving Drokal territory is gone.
Chief Broga will not harm my mate.
Not if there’s anything I can do to prevent it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Leaving Julia behind, I start to all-out run on my way to the camp on the outskirts of the city. The sooner we leave, the better chance we have of getting there in time to stop the attack.
…In time to rescue Drokal.
I’m out of breath by the time I reach the camp. The warriors I traveled with are all standing outside of one of the tents, smoking some kind of fragrant herb out of a pipe. They wave to me as I approach, and one of them holds out the pipe, as if to offer me a hit.
“We have to go back to Drokal Territory, now!” I exclaim, waving away the pipe.
They give me nonplussed looks. “Why?” asks one of the warriors whose name I know to be Tam.
“Clan Broga is planning an attack. They’ve taken Chief Drokal captive.”
All the warriors react in shock. “What? How do you know this?” asks Tam, immediately rushing to prepare to tusk-oxen for travel.
“I overheard a group of Broga warriors in the saloon talking about it,” I explain. “They’re waiting to kill Drokal until after they attack the Capital.”
Within minutes, the entire camp has been packed up. We stuff the power cells into saddlebags, abandon the carriage, and take off in the direction of Drokal Territory, me riding on the back of Tam’s tusk-ox.
We ride through the night, stopping only briefly to get a few hours of sleep and to allow the tusk-oxen to rest. By afternoon the next day, the air is already growing cold, and I’m starting to see landmarks that indicate we’re nearing our destination. We’re moving at breakneck pace, going even faster than we did traveling to the auction. The whole time we’re riding, all I can think about is Drokal. The idea of anything happening to him makes my stomach churn.
I guess it took going back to my old life for me to realize how much I truly care about him.
* * *
As we near the Clan Drokal capital, the sounds of violence split the air. I hear shouting. Swords clashing.
The battle has already begun.
The warriors around me draw their weapons as we ride into the settlement. Adrenaline fills me as I see fighting all around us: blue-faced Broga warriors are everywhere, clashing swords with fighters I recognize as being from Clan Drokal. It looks like Clan Broga is winning: the Drokal soldiers are being pushed back, and the Broga warriors are advancing.
Tam and the other warriors in my group charge at the back of the Broga line, slashing with their swords and felling several enemies. The enemy soldiers yell and turn to respond to this new threat, even as the mounted Drokal warriors pull their tusk-oxen back for another charge.
All except for Tam. He and I blast right through the line, and he rides our tusk-ox directly to Castle Drok.
“What are you doing?” I yell. “The battle is behind us! We need to keep fighting!”
“No, I need to keep fighting,” says Tam. “Chief Drokal would have my head if I allowed you to join the battle. You will wait here.”
I protest, but Tam merely pulls me off the back of the tusk-ox and carries me into the ship.
“You need to let me do something! I can’t just hide in here while you all fight,” I yell angrily as Tam pushes me into the turbo-lift and engages the manual lockdown.
“It is for your own safety,” he tells me as the doors shut.
I scream and pound on the door to the lift, but it’s no use. I’m locked in.
Taking a deep breath, I bury my frustration and go to work on the turbo-lift’s control panel. I type in an override code I have memorized from New Sutter, and to my relief, the door opens.
For crazy moment, I imagine myself running back outside to join the battle, but my better judgment takes over. I’d be no use at all in a hand-to-hand fight against a seven-foot Kyrzon armed with an ax or a sword.
The laser cannons.
I punch the control panel, ordering it to take me to the highest floor, tapping my feet impatiently the whole way up.
As soon as the door opens, I sprint through it, heading into the weapons room as fast as I can. I power up the console that controls the cannons, and it freezes, just like I expected.
Okay. I’m prepared for this.
I run a soft reset on the system, using the method Thomas taught me. The weapons console reboots, and then freezes at the exact same point.
“Come on,” I mutter, resetting the console again.
Again, it freezes.
I reset the console again. And again.
I can’t get it to turn on.
“Fuck!” I scream in frustration, pounding the interface. “Turn on, you piece of shit!”
The weapons console freezes again, as though it’s mocking me.
My mind races.
There has to be something else I can do. Mentally, I go through all the things I’ve seen in Castle Drok, searching for something that could help turn the tide of the battle.
An idea pops into my head. A crazy, ridiculous idea.
No reason not to try.
I take the turbo-lift down to the Great Hall. Just as I remembered, the room is lined with installations of now-ancient weapons, remnants of the Great Kyrzon War of times past. My eyes scan the line, past the piles of guns, until I see what I’m looking for:
Flanking the back of the room, near the thrones, are a pair of armed hover-vehicles, each with room for one person to stand and steer, and a laser turret on the front. Both hover-turrets are old and dusty, but neither appears to be damaged.
I attempt to turn one of them on, but it is clearly missing a power source. Further examination reveals a slot in the back where a power cell can be inserted. I rush back to the turbo-lift and take it to the bottom level where I know that the power cells are stored.
Grabbing a power cell of the correct size, I go back to the Great Hall and install it in the slot on the back of the hover-turret. It beeps encouragingly.
Okay, here goes nothing.
I flip the power switch on the armed vehicle and watch the targeting screen as it boots up. It freezes, just like the weapons console did. Hoping against hope, I start to test different combinations of buttons and pedals, searching for the soft reset.
Finally, something works. The screen goes black and starts to reboot.
And then the hover-turret comes to life.
I yell triumphantly as the bottom of the vehicle leaves the ground, hovering about a foot above the floor. I step up onto it, taking a moment to examine the targeting screen and familiarize myself with the controls.
Luckily, nothing is too foreign. It seems like the laser cannon operates similarly to the one I’ve been trained with, and the controls for piloting the vehicle are very familiar to me, considering all the time I’ve spent driving a hover-cart.
