Ohber_Warriors of Milisaria

by Celeste Raye

  She puzzled through that for a second and his meaning came clear. The memory of the old language she had learned, that of the humans, didn’t come flooding back but it kicked into a sort of rusty but workable thing.

  She knelt beside him, and the others quickly did as well. Lornia turned him over to see three long scratches along his side and blood weeping up from them through the torn remnants of the garment that he wore on his upper body. She formulated a word in her mind and then spoke aloud. “Poison.”

  Yes. The beast’s claws carried poison. She remembered that then. Back during the beast wars, the one that had just attempted to murder these travelers had been one of the worst ones to encounter. One of the females and one of the non-human males knelt down next to him, moving in closer. Her eyes went back to his profile, and the jolt of familiarity came back again. He was the man who had made love to her in that dream not so many nights before. But how had she dreamed of him before he had even come there?

  The fragments of that dream and the pleasure she had known within it made her face go red, and she turned her eyes elsewhere, looking back at the house. Healers. She would recognize that almost immediately just by the way they touched him and examined his wounds, and her suspicion was solidified as soon as they began pulling medicines from their packs, working upon him with a swiftness that said injury, even ones as deathly engraved as this one, were not new to them.

  Eventually, he stilled and fell into a deep sleep. Lornia took a deep breath and tried to remember more of the human language. She said, “Are you hungry?”

  Every face turned to hers with the exception of the man who was now unconscious on the floor.

  One of the women stood and held her hand out in a gesture that Lornia was familiar with. She took the woman’s hand, feeling the warmth and the rush of the blood beneath the woman’s skin.

  The woman said, “I’m Jessica.”

  She introduced the others and then Lornia introduced herself. The one called Jenny asked, “Will Drake live?”

  Lornia said, “I do not know. Maybe. Some did after having had the poison.”

  That did not seem to be what they wanted to hear, but she had nothing else to tell them. Suspicion came up in her as she surveyed them. They were human. What did they want there? She had no doubt that what they wanted was the weapon, the machine. But for what purpose? That was always the question, wasn’t it?

  She had to formulate a plan, and she had to do it fast. She said, “We should stay here for now. I don’t know if more of them are nearby or not. This part of the fortress has been unused for centuries. I had thought, for a very long time, that they were all dead, but occasionally I would hear them. I thought I was dreaming or just having a nightmare.”

  The one who’d been introduced as Blade, the one who looked like the man named Drake on the floor, stepped forward. He asked, “Where are the rest? The rest of your kind? Are they nearby?”

  A hard lump hit her throat, and she had swallowed back. “I am the only one here. I have been the only one here for very many years now. Centuries. All of those who were human are gone too. Nobody survived but me.”

  Drake stirred slightly, moaning as the poison ran through his system. She looked down at him, and her heart gave a small lurch that discomfited her. “Can he be moved or should we stay here? Where I reside, the beasts cannot enter. I resealed all the doors on my way through those rooms, and we would be more safely sheltered there, but if it means his death to move him, perhaps it would be better to risk the beasts and stay.”

  Blade said, “I think we shall be here for quite some time. Talon, turn off the ship. There’s no one here.”

  The one named Talon took out some type of controller from a pocket and fiddled with it. He looked at her, and she read the suspicion in his face. He was of some race that she had no experience with and so she was sure the suspicion, both for him and for the humans, also showed on her features. She attempted to smooth her features into an impassive mask but her heart was beating fast again and under the suspicion came a sort of wild and careening joy. She was not alone anymore!

  They quickly rigged a way to tote Drake out of there. They formed a sort of rough cradle with extra clothing and weapons and the strongest of them, her included, settled the poles made by the weapons on their shoulders and started off with her in the lead.

  Every step brought new questions to her mind, but now was not the time to ask them. It was a long journey back to her side of the fortress and they needed to be both fast and quiet in order to hopefully not draw the attention of any other hungry creature that might be about.

  Chapter 8:

  Drake woke up hours later. His eyes fluttered open and then closed again before he managed to pry them open and keep them that way. He was parched, his lips so dry that they were stuck to his teeth. He was lightheaded and dizzy, and nausea rolled about in his gut. Weakness lay in every limb and muscle, making them lax and loose.

  He cleared his throat. Instantly, Marik’s face appeared as he leaned over Drake. Marik asked, “How do you feel?”

  “Like death warmed over.”

  Marik said, “With good reason.”

  “I guess.” He blinked away a foggy confusion that hit in a slow wave that threatened to take him down. “Who was that?”

  Marik’s fingers went to Drake’s wrist and pressed. “Lornia. She is, as far as I can understand, the last of the Speakers.”

  The Speakers. Drake’s head spun at that. “The Fed founders?”

  “All dead. Time’s funny here, so she said. They lived long, though she could not say how long, but something happened. One of them, our revered Franchine, decided to do some kind of experiments on the animals here. Turned them into things like the one that attacked us, and worse from what she said. Most of the Speakers died as a result. As you can guess, she doesn’t seem to care for humans now.”

  “I bet.” Drake closed his eyes. “Where are we? We were moving, I think.”

  Marik’s fingers left his wrist. “We were. We’ve stopped to rest now. This place is folded or something, like the space around it. The further you go, the less you get anywhere; that is how it feels.”

  Drake’s eyes flew open. The hall they were in had a rim of dripping mold on one wall, and he said, “There’s something wrong here.”

  Marik nodded. His face held concern. “The place is blowing apart, she says. The machine is coming back to life. I don’t know what that means yet. She doesn’t speak any language I really know but a little broken human. I tried the language on the wall, but she didn’t answer. When I pointed to it, she shook her head and said her race hadn’t written it.”

  “Then who did?”

  Marik shifted. His hands raked through his hair. “The ones who were here before her race, I guess.”

  “Before mine, yes.”

  The low and throaty words came from his left. Drake startled and looked over to see her standing there. Marik stood, his face wary and his hands down at his side. Drake could not blame him for being so cautious. Neither of them had heard her come upon them and both of them were battle-hardened soldiers who should have heard the slightest sound.

  Drake studied her, not bothering to be discreet about it. She was gorgeous. She had a look of youth to her, but there was an ages-old wisdom written in her eyes, a look that said a very old soul peered from those golden Orbs that fastened upon his face with such directness that he felt like his very soul was being weighed and judged.

  He asked, “How long until the poison leaves my system?”

  She smiled. The smile lit her face up like someone had switched on a blazing sun behind her skin. That smile caused his heart to beat faster and a feeling he could not recognize to rise up within his chest.

  She said, “Soon. The medicines that your healers possess are wonderful. My race had many as well but that was long ago, and none are left now.”

  Marik edged away, back toward the spot where the rest of the group rested. Lornia sat beside him, her long
body settling onto the floor with a feline grace that made his prick stiffen and his body heat. He looked away fast.

  She said, “You need food. I have this for you.”

  Her hand extended and upon her slim and long palm sat a thing that looked like a cross between a nut and a loaf of bread. He stared at it. She said, “It’s good. The others have already eaten their fill of it, and none died.”

  “That’s reassuring.” His humor surfaced. “But how long ago did they eat it?”

  He lifted his eyes to her face as he spoke and he saw that smile flash out at him again. That feeling came back, tightening his chest and taking his breath. By all the gods, she was lovely, more beautiful than anything that he had ever seen in his entire life.

  His body reacted yet again, and he had to shift a bit to keep the bulge growing below his trousers from being so obvious. That bulge grew more noticeable as her hand came toward his and their fingers met. Electric shocks raced down his skin and lust rose up, drowning out his rational mind for a split second.

  Lornia took her hand away and moved it down. Her eyes, so large and luminous that they lit up her face as much as her smile had, dropped too. Did she know he was lusting after her?

  He asked, “Do you know why we are here?”

  She didn’t flinch. “You want the weapon.”

  “We need the weapon.”

  Her eyes met his again. “Really need it or is it just something that would make your fight easier?”

  “No. It will not be easy even with it. The enemy we are up against outnumbers us in every way. We will likely all die even with the weapon. But if we can save lives with it, then we need to have it.”

  She looked away then. Her throat worked. “You don’t even know what it is. I know you don’t because the others have already asked me what it is capable of, and if it even still exists.”

  His fingers caught her wrist, her attention came back to his face. He asked, urgently. “Does it?”

  “Yes.”

  “We have to take it.” He regarded her face. “You’re alone here?”

  “Are you sizing me up in case I fight you for it?”

  His humor surfaced again. “I’ve seen you fight. I’d rather not be your enemy.” He sobered. “No, that’s not why I was asking. I was wondering what you will do if this place implodes or something. You can’t stay here. There’s no way you can stay here. You will have to go with us.”

  Her breath was a small and thin sound. “I know that.”

  He sensed her sorrow. He didn’t release her wrist. Her skin, that marvelous and slightly firm surface, held his attention as his fingertips pressed against the smooth and cool flesh of her wrist. He spoke gently. “This has been your home for a very long time, hasn’t it?”

  She gulped. Her eyes shone but if it were tears that turned her golden eyes liquid, they did not fall. “Yes, too long. And it stopped being a home many years ago. I have always known I might have to leave one day. Yet I find myself torn, odd as that is. I am alone here and being in company—it’s…” Her hands came up and made an elegant gesture. His fingers dropped away from her wrist as she did so and he had the strong urge to take hold of that wrist again but didn’t.

  He said, “You’re afraid.”

  She nodded. “Of course. I don’t know much about contact. I have lost all that I loved and all the ones that I loved over the years, and I have grown both used to and resentful of the silence here. Eat.” She stood. Her hair swept across the floor and brought a faintly floral scent to his nostrils. “You will need to be stronger than you think. If you want the weapon, we have to get to the room where the machine lies, and beyond it as well. I have to gather things I will need before I depart, and Tralam is, indeed, crumbling more with each passing second.”

  She walked away. Drake bit into the food she had handed him. It was a little salty and a little sweet—like the taste of a woman.

  His eyes went back to Lornia. His desire stirred again, disconcerting him. What was he thinking? He was in Tralam, and it was about to fall down right on his head! He had a weapon to get and a universe to save, and all he could think of was to wonder if she tasted the same way the food she had offered him tasted.

  Chapter 9:

  Him. Drake. He was the one who could guide the weapon.

  That had to be why she had had such a dream of him. Why she had been given to know him before his arrival.

  It had not occurred to her at any point in her long life that it could possibly be a human who would take charge of that lethal weapon. But there was more to consider than just the weapon. There was the thing that the weapon protected to consider.

  These beings that came to the fortress had no idea of how precious that other thing was, and she did not trust them enough to tell them of it. That she would have to take it out of there in secret was clear.

  She had no choice but to leave. This place was falling, and if she tried to stay, she would follow along with it. She had no idea if there was any way possible for her to avoid death if the fortress fell with her still inside it, but she had little hope that she could.

  Why had she not simply taken the Orb with her? All of its guardians were dead now. Those vast spiders that weaved their webs that kept it caught firmly in a net of space and time, anchored to its hiding place there within the machine, were long since dead.

  The Orb frightened her so much that she rarely even looked at it. The knowledge that came from the Orb was a knowledge that could drive one insane.

  That took her thoughts back to Drake. He was a human man, one endowed with ambition. She had sensed that in him. He was clearly the leader and the fact that she had seen his face, and had such an intimate dream about him, only seemed to reinforce the fact that he would be the one to guide the weapon.

  The ancient race that created that weapon created it so that one of a singular nature would be the only one able to use its power. Drake was possessed of the singular nature. Clearly, he was. His personality seemed to shift between light and dark though.

  She had spoken at length with the others as they had walked back toward the gardens, taking the unconscious man along with them, and they had all spoken highly of his bravery and courage. They had spoken highly of his ability to lead. They had spoken highly of his decision to betray the Federation that they all were now at war against. But they had been reserved about him as well. It seemed that none of them truly trusted him or his motives.

  She had a feeling that they were not quite sold on the fact that he was indeed a traitor to that Federation. That there was an undercurrent of suspicion that he may, in fact, be a double agent of some type. That he may be only pretending to betray the Federation in order to undertake the mission that had brought him and them to her world.

  He might very well be going to betray all of them. If he did, the consequences to himself would be incredibly high. The weapon would destroy him. The weapon was meant to fight evil, and if he had more darkness in him than light, that he too would die. The weapon would hone in on that darkness, call it out with that seductive promise of power. She had seen that happen before. She did not wish to see it again.

  Talon stood next to her now. His wide shoulders leaned into a battered wall, and his eyes rested on his mate, the human warrior-woman named Jessica. That Talon did not trust Drake was obvious. That he also did not trust her was equally obvious. He seemed to trust several of the people there within the group, but those people were either his siblings or his sibling’s mates.

  Lornia said, “I know very little of human strength. Do you think he can go on?”

  Talon’s lips pursed. “Most humans, when faced with either death or life, tend to find the strength they did not know they possessed.”

  She couldn’t figure out what to say to that. Talking was difficult as she had to summon up the language that she had not spoken in so long and try to translate their words into her own language before being able to reply. She conducted herself with a nod and hoped that it relayed her ag
reement. “He is not dying though.”

  Talon said, “He came very close though, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  Talon asked, “How many more of those things are there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He hissed out an impatient breath. “I don’t know how long we can continue to carry Drake. We’re all tired. Coming through those gates and passing those obstacles exhausted us. For all kinds of reasons.”

  That she could understand. Her arrival at the fortress had been fraught with terror and great emotional distress. “We need to move. Do you think he can walk?”

  Talon’s eyes met hers. His narrowed. “Why did you not ask him yourself?”

  Because she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. There was that dream, for one thing, and the lingering embarrassment over being face-to-face with a man that she had dreamed of in such a way. For another, there was that knowledge of his being the one who would guide the weapon. It lay heavy on her heart, that knowledge. She did not trust him. She was not even sure that she liked him. She was not sure that the weapon was suitable for his hold either.

  “I didn’t think of it.”

  Talon side. “Drake! Can you walk?”

  Lornia watched as Drake attempted to lever himself up using his hands as a brace against the wall. He stood there for a moment, swaying on his feet. His face went gray with pain, but he nodded his head in a brisk manner. He took a few ginger steps forward. “I think so. I don’t think I can run though.”

  Talon said, “Then you had better ready all of your weapons in case another of those things come at you.”

  To Lornia’s utter shock, they all began to laugh. She gawked at them. What kind of creatures were these that the idea of danger could send them into such gales of laughter? Irritation sped through her, but she tamped it down. Now was not the time for her to be angry at them or impatient. They had a long way to go still, and she had something very important to retrieve.