by Cheree Alsop
***
“I’m counting on the fact that these tags haven’t been removed from the system,” Hyrin told them.
“Are these from Verdan?” Tariq asked, taking one of the plastic cards the officer held out.
“Yes,” Hyrin replied. “I thought they might come in handy.”
“You get points for being resourceful,” Devren told him. “Good job thinking ahead.”
“Does it bother anyone else that we’re using tags from the people we killed?” Shathryn asked. “I mean, what if they have ghosts attached to them or something.” She lowered her voice and said dramatically, “They could be haunted.”
Stone held up the one Hyrin had given him. “Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll protect you from the dead. My hope is that they have more important things to do than stalk pieces of plastic.”
“What sort of things?” Shathryn asked, her gaze on the rebel.
“Wooing the one they didn’t make time for while alive,” he answered with a wink.
“Well, aren’t you adorable,” Shathryn said. She linked her arm through Stone’s and his smile widened.
O’Tule took her card. “All I know is that the less time we spend with Tramareaus, the better. Is there a chance that he’s not here?” No one could mistake the hope in her voice.
“He’s here,” Hyrin replied. “He answered my blink. He knows we’re coming, but not why.”
Liora walked behind Devren and Tariq. The two pushed the Omne Occasus hidden inside a cargo box on casters. She kept her hand near her knife in case anyone questioned their intentions, but given the rush of every member of mortalkind imaginable through the hallways and winding passages of Titus, she needn’t have worried.
“I’ve never seen a place so full of people,” she whispered to Tariq.
It was true. Regardless of all the circus shows on the thousands of planets Liora had been a part of, and the crowds those drew from all over the Macrocosm, she had never seen so many people in one place at the same time. Hordes of Gauls carried giant boxes containing who knows what through hallways so wide a dozen banta oxen could walk side by side and not scrape horns. Venticans, Belanites, and Talastans rushed past on their own business. The four-armed Arachnians kept to themselves while huge groups of Salamandons conversed as they walked.
Coalition officers hurried past without giving the small group from the Star Chaser a second glance. Liora felt for the first time how one could be surrounded by a thousand people, yet be completely alone. They could be at the center of attention, or ignored; there was no way of knowing. It set her on edge.
“We don’t have far to go,” Tariq reassured her. “The plan is to meet Hyrin in the Gladarian as soon as he’s located Tramareaus.”
“Ugh,” Shathryn and O’Tule said at the same time.
Devren glanced back at them. “Do you have to do that every time someone says his name?”
“Yes,” Shathryn replied. A shoulder bumped into hers. She continued on as if it didn’t bother her. “He’s loathsome, Captain. I would be happy to never see him again in my life. If it were up to me, I would change his name to Disgustingmareaus, and warn every girl in the Macrocosm to stay clear of him.”
“Me, too,” O’Tule echoed.
“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Stone said from behind the group.
Shathryn threw him a wink. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
“I don’t know what their problem is,” Officer Straham said from his place next to the Omne Occasus. “Tramareaus seemed nice the last time we met.”
It was apparently the completely wrong thing to say. Both girls huffed and whispered annoyed remarked back and forth for the next several minutes.
“Remind me to keep my mouth shut next time,” Straham finally said.
“That usually works best for me,” Tariq replied.
Stone chuckled. “With women, always know that perception is truth. If they feel that way about a man’s character, it is true about him. You would be best not to contradict their opinion.”
O’Tule set a hand on Shathryn’s arm. “I knew I liked him for a reason.
They walked with the rushing crowd down the huge hall. Other hallways branched off with signs in several languages that told of armories, spacecraft parts, sundries, water storage, and atmosphere cleansers. Though huge chunks of the crowd wandered off down these halls, it didn’t appear to make even a dent in the amount of people rushing forward. Liora kept a hand on the box to keep from getting separated from her crew.
The booming voice of an announcer sent a familiar chill down her spine.
“Coming up next, watch the faceoff between Arachnians and the wielder of Zamarian steel. Lay your bets before the bell tolls. The strongest steel in the Macrocosm against sixteen limbs. It’s a battle you can go an entire lifetime and never see again.”
The thought of seeing people once more being shown off as creatures in cages doing tricks for the masses made Liora’s stomach turn over. Even though she was away from the circus, it was hard to think of those still trapped within the greedy clutches of callers and owners looking to pad their pockets with as many bars as they could wring from an eager crowd.
Liora reluctantly followed the others into a long, low-ceilinged corridor. The sound of fighting ricocheted off the walls above the chaos of thousands of people bartering, betting, and swapping yarns about their travels.
Devren led the way to a table near the bars of a fence. The men carefully positioned the box beneath the table so it was out of the way of the crowd. Glancing down, Liora saw that they were at the edge of the fighting ring. Two stories below, four men and two women fought in a huge circle where purple moss covered the floor. Every type of mortalkind imaginable yelled at the humanoids as they battled inside the arena. A Ventican got stabbed in the stomach. He fell immediately to the ground, his body motionless.
“Don’t worry,” Devren told Liora, his smile warm. “Killing is not allowed in the Coalition’s headquarters. They would lose far too many officers that way. Their weapons are dulled but tipped with a powerful sleep aid. Last one standing wins.”
The thought that Devren was trying to protect her from seeing death was humorous to Liora. She cracked a smile. A glance to the left showed that Tariq was watching her with an amused expression of his own.
“It’s barbaric,” Officer Straham commented.
“It’s amazing,” Stone replied. “There’s nothing quite like the rush that comes from being cheered or booed by thousands of spectators, your comrades at your back and the chance to win hundreds of platinum bars.”
Shathryn stared at him. “You’ve been down there?”
Stone nodded. “A few times.” At her wide-eyed look, he shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a warrior at heart.”
She put her arm through his and leaned her head against his shoulder. “The more I learn about you, the less I want to leave your side.”
Stone’s cheek twitched as if the touch of her purple hair tickled his skin. “I’m not sorry to hear that,” he told her.
Liora leaned closer to the fence. Men and women all around the circle leaned over yelling and throwing things from the second floor to the ground as they goaded the fighters on. A glance up revealed so many other levels that it made Liora dizzy to look at them all.
“Heads up,” Tariq said. He grabbed Liora’s shoulder and pulled her back just as a black boot fell past them to the arena floor.
One of the gladiators grabbed the boot and threw it at a female Crustacite. She caught it in her clawed hand and chucked it back hard enough to knock him off his feet.
“Maybe they don’t need the sleeping aid,” Officer Straham noted.
Liora and Tariq watched two other humanoids fall. The two left standing waved at the crowd and bowed. Members of the audience threw taffala petals and cherook feathers. The white and purple objects floated down in a gentle rainstorm.
“Gaveria and Talan from Hoarth have taken the match,” the announcer proc
laimed. “Collect your winnings. Betting is now closed for the Zamarian against the Arachnians. Warriors, take your positions.”
Devren pushed his transmitter button.
“Hyrin says they’re on the way,” he informed them. “All we have to do is lay low so we don’t attract the attention of any officers who might recognize us.”
“Liora Day.”
The voice boomed from the arena.
Liora’s heart slowed. She looked behind her at the Gladarian’s floor. The Zamarian armed for battle glared up at her. He looked vaguely familiar. Liora searched her memory.
“Liora, who is that?” Tariq asked.
“They’re coming,” Officer Straham said with panic in his voice. “We’re drawing attention.”
“They’re going to find us out,” O’Tule whispered with an edge of hysteria.
“You killed my mother,” the Zamarian shouted.
The realization of who called her name hit Liora hard. She stared down at the Zamarian whose mother had shown her kindness and given her the Ventican clothing on Gaulded Zero Twenty-one, the Gaulded Chief Obruo had blown up in his search for her.
Liora put a hand on the top bar.
“What are you doing?” Tariq asked.
She could feel the gazes of the advancing Coalition officers. If the Zamarian continued to shout, they would be all over the group. There would be no chance of hiding the Omne Occasus.
Liora vaulted over the railing.
Chapter 14
Purple chalky powder rose from the moss-covered floor of the Gladarian arena when Liora’s landed with her knees bent and hands at the ready in case the Zamarian attacked.
“Zran,” Liora said.
Blue streaks marked the Zamarian’s face and ran down his hands in the marking of his people. He gripped the katana he held so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“I’ve searched the Macrocosm for you, Liora,” he growled.
“This is unprecedented,” the announcer’s voice echoed through the Gladarian. “We’ve never had a contestant join a fight from the stands. Betting will reopen for the next three minutes.”
“I heard about what Obruo did to the Gaulded,” Liora began.
“To our home,” Zran shot back.
“To your home,” Liora conceded. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s an exciting update to our match,” the announcer said with awe in his voice. “If I’m not mistaken, our new contestant is a Damaclan! We’ve never had a member of that most violent of races in our ring. The betting odds have been increased. Give us a moment to balance the match.”
Zran took a step forward. Liora kept her gaze on the center of his chest in case he decided to attack without warning.
“My mother was killed because of you. She trusted you,” Zran spat.
“You were right to warn her about me,” Liora replied. “But I didn’t kill her. I am truly sorry for her death.”
Zran’s eyes narrowed. “It’s too late now. She always took pity on the oppressed. Look where that got her.”
“It wasn’t her fault Obruo set the bomb,” Liora pointed out.
“It was yours,” Zran shot back. “You deserve to pay for her death.”
“Due to the addition of another opponent, we’ve added a surprise,” the announcer called. “Noble audience, my finely feathered, furred, scaled, or skinned friends, prepare for our four Arachnian warriors along with the addition of something we were waiting to save for the finale, but has been called upon for this fine occasion. Welcome the maned chenowik from the planet Supmut!”
A rumble of surprise came from the audience. Liora glanced up to see men and women pressed against the railings on every level of the Gladarian. She met Tariq’s gaze.
Though she couldn’t hear his voice above the commotion of the crowd, she clearly read “Get out of there,” on his lips when he said it.
The wide doors at the opposite end of the arena opened.
“You had to jump down here, didn’t you?” Zran demanded.
Liora glared at him. “You called me out. I had no choice.”
“Oh, the poor Damaclan,” Zran shot back. “What’s going to happen to her?”
The four Arachnians with their customary swords in each of their four hands stalked across the moss. Those who had bet for them cheered and yelled the names of their favorite warriors.
“Why are you here?” Liora asked.
“What else is there?” Zran replied, his voice thick with hatred. “You took everything from me.”
“Obruo took everything from you just like he’s trying to do to me,” Liora told him. “I didn’t even know he was still alive when I left the Gaulded.”
The announcer’s voice echoed through the arena, “Just a reminder to the audience, while the Arachnians’ weapons are tipped with our special knockout aid, nobody has control over the chenowik. It is one of the deadliest creatures this side of the Holmberg Two Galaxy.”
Liora and Zran both shifted their gaze to the last open door. The Arachnians moved carefully along the arena wall away from the dark hole. A form moved inside. A clack of claws sounded and the creature stepped out.
Audience members gasped and moved back from the rails. Liora took an inadvertent step back and saw Zran do the same. He muttered something in a language she didn’t recognize and raised his katana. He glanced at her.
“Are you planning to fight, or are you going to run away again?”
Liora drew the knife from her sheath.
Zran rolled his eyes. “Great. I feel much safer now.”
Liora narrowed her gaze. “There’s a reason Obruo blew up an entire Gaulded trying to kill me.”
Zran’s mouth shut. He blew out a breath from his nose and took another step back when the chenowik cleared the door.
The creature towered above the Arachnians. Captured from Supmut, the chenowik had the ability to swim or walk on its four clawed, finned feet. The animal dripped with a slimy green ooze that made the moss hiss when the beast lumbered forward. The same slime hung from each corner of its toothy mouth. Long, skinny fangs protruded in all directions. Its sides were huge and covered in sweeping spikes. Liora couldn’t tell if they were hard or flexible. She didn’t want to get close enough to find out.
“I never thought I’d depend on a Damaclan in battle,” Zran muttered. He glanced at her. “This means nothing. You die as soon as this is over if that beast doesn’t kill you first.”
“Good luck with that,” Liora replied flatly.
Liora and Zran paced slowly backwards. The chenowik’s attention was on the Arachnians. They kept together and barely gave Liora and Zran a glance.
Zran was silent for a moment, then said, “Do we go after the Arachnians or the beast first?”
Surprised by his question, Liora glanced at him. “I thought you’ve done this before.”
He gestured toward the chenowik. “Not this before. I’m pretty sure no humanoid has done this before. This is insane.”
Liora nodded. “I agree.” At his incredulous look, she said, “The Arachnians are our greater concern. If they knock us out, we’ll be prey to the chenowik. Keep them between us and the creature, eliminate them first, then turn our attention to the walking balloon fish.”
At Zran’s incredulous snort, Liora realized Tariq’s sarcasm might have worked into her speech.
She made her way to the wall. “Keep behind me. I’ll handle them.”
“The only thing I have left is my pride,” Zran replied. “I can fight for myself, thank you very much.”
He pushed past her with his katana raised. Liora gritted her teeth and followed.
Zran didn’t flinch when three of the Arachnians turned at their approach. The Zamarian pulled a second blade from the sheath on his back and attacked.
There were so many blades flashing in the bright arena lights that it was hard to keep track of who swung what. The Arachnians had Zran backed against the wall before Liora could reach them. The chenowik quickened its
pace and the drool from its multi-fanged mouth increased in anticipation of the feast.
As fast as the Zamarian was, he had no chance of blocking so many blades. Liora knew her odds of besting the chenowik would increase with him at her side. She had to help him before the Arachnians knocked him out with their treated blades.
Liora had no qualms about killing Arachnians who attacked her, but the rules of the game were supposed to save their lives. The placement of the chenowik blurred those rules, but she decided to stick to them.
Liora let out a yell to catch their attention. It worked almost better than she hoped. Two of the Arachnians who had attacked Zran bore down on her with blades flashing. Liora blocked one after the other, grateful for the reflexes of a Damaclan that allowed her to track the swords.
A scream echoed across the arena. Shouts from the audience followed. Liora glanced over to see the chenowik bite down on one of the Arachnians near Zran. A blade stuck through the beast’s gaping top lip, but it didn’t appear to notice. The thin fangs tore the Arachnian apart. His arms flailed weakly, then stopped moving altogether. The chenowik put one clawed fin foot on the humanoid and dug into the Aranchian’s chest with relish.
Liora didn’t have to best the Arachnians at swordplay, she only had to find an opening and let the treated blades do the work. She ducked, blocked, and found her opening. Her knife darted out. The point caught the left Arachnian’s arm just below her wrist. She let out a shriek and dropped her sword. Liora ducked under the other Arachnian’s slice and scooped up the treated weapon. She stabbed the first Arachnian in the shoulder, spun and blocked two other jabs, and sunk the blade into the second Arachnian’s thigh. Both warriors dropped to the ground.
Liora grabbed up another blade and strode toward Zran. The chenowik gave a satisfied slurp and ambled toward the Zamarian and his attacker. Zran blocked and stabbed. His eyes darted toward the creature’s advance and the Arachnian’s blade almost took him in the throat.
The cheers and calls of the crowd were deafening. The fact that they had enjoyed the Arachnian’s death at the claws of the chenowik bothered Liora. She couldn’t say why it did, but it angered her. Rage pulsed at the edges of her thoughts. She glared from the Arachnian to the chenowik.
