by Cheree Alsop
The chenowik’s eyes rolled from the fierce battle between the two warriors to the Arachnians who lay still where Liora had left them. Choosing the lesser danger, the huge beast shuffled forward. Liora was torn. She could rescue Zran from the Arachnian and turn her back to the others for the chenowik to eat, or rescue the four-armed humanoids who would no doubt have left her to die.
Liora made a split-second decision. Zran appeared to be holding his own. If Liora didn’t stop the creature, it wouldn’t matter if Zran won his battle or not; they would both be eaten. Besides, she might be a killer, but she wasn’t about to watch a creature devour two helpless Arachnians she was responsible for sending to the ground.
Liora picked up another treated sword and advanced toward the creature. The roar from the crowd increased. A dozen different languages rained down on her. She twirled the swords to get a feel for their weight. The chenowik’s eyes locked on her. Its spikes bristled. Liora had a feeling there wasn’t much flexibility to them. Given the amount of spikes and fangs around its face and body, she would have to be very careful to aim her swords where they would actually hurt the creature.
Liora ran forward. She faked to the left, then lunged to the right and slammed a sword through a small break between the chenowik’s spikes. She had forgotten that the blades had been dulled for the arena battle. The sword bounced off the chenowik’s thick skin, jarring Liora’s arm and sending her to the ground.
The chenowik pounced. Its claws scrabbled against her sides and its weight pressed down on her with suffocating slime. The crowd’s shouts came dully to her ears. Liora lost her grip on the other sword. She struggled to reach her knife. The blade slipped from the sheath. She grabbed it and thrust upward.
The chenowik let out a strangled cry and stumbled backward; the knife tore through its soft, unprotected underbelly. Its retreat opened the wound further. Entrails bulged out. Liora rolled clear and rose to her feet. She knew not to let the creature gain its bearings. It let out angry, guttural cries and continued to retreat when she advanced toward it.
It opened its mouth in a growl of protest. Strands of flesh from its recent Arachnian meal hung from its long fangs. Liora looked for another opening. Footsteps sounded behind her, then Zran was at her side.
“How do we flip it?” he asked.
Liora glanced around them. There was nothing in the arena that would help their fight. The chenowik leaned heavily to the side and trailed blood with its retreat.
“We have to take out its legs on the right side,” Liora told Zran.
“I’ve got the back,” he replied.
He jogged around wide enough to keep the creature’s attention on Liora. She moved warily to the left. The chenowik chomped its teeth and followed. It was daunting to look up into the huge, gaping mouth. Liora saw a severed hand caught between its spikey back teeth.
The creature let out a bellow. As soon as it turned to attack Zran, Liora darted beneath its spikes and stabbed deep into its front right foot. The chenowik’s leg collapsed and it rolled faster than she could escape. Liora ducked and felt the spikes press against her back. Amazingly, the Ventican cloth of the outfit Zran’s mother had given her kept the spikes from piercing through. The chenowik rolled onto its back completely and Liora was free.
The cheers from the arena rose so loud the ground shook as she leaped on top of the chenowik and stabbed her knife deep into its belly. She ripped downward and opened its stomach. The chenowik let out a gurgle; its head rolled back and slime poured from its mouth.
Liora jumped down. She spotted Zran on his knees a few feet behind the creature. He clutched his arm and blood colored his chest. She reached his side and held out a hand. Zran gave her a searching look.
“It doesn’t bring your mother back, but I’m alive because of her,” she said quietly. “There are very few people who will show kindness to a Damaclan. I wish she had listened when you warned her away from me.”
Zran surprised her by grabbing her hand and letting her help him to his feet.
“If she had listened to me and turned you away, she wouldn’t have been my mother,” he replied.
She ducked under his arm and helped him toward the door that opened at the end of the arena. Purple cherook feathers and white taffala petals fell like rain into the arena. All manner of mortalkind cheered from the stands for the two warriors. The sound was deafening. Liora couldn’t decide how she felt about being applauded for killing the chenowik. It reminded her too much of her clan’s approval when she killed Vogun and gained her status as a clan member.
Men in gray suits rushed out with stretchers to collect the fallen Arachnians. She wondered how they would remove the slain chenowik with its belly torn open.
Her unspoken question was answered when three Kelnians walked by with devourers on chains. The six-legged, scaled creatures scurried forward as fast as their handlers would let them. The scent of blood brought screeches of excitement from the small devourers. The Kelnians, known as the erasers of the Macrocosm, appeared nonchalant about taking their pets to eat the chenowik. Liora knew the snout-toothed creatures would have the chenowik eaten in a matter of minutes. They would return nearly quadruple their size and sleep contentedly for the next month in the artificial lairs made by their handlers.
“If that was you or I, they would have no qualms about eating us as well,” Zran pointed out with a disgusted expression. “You’d expect humanoids to have an ounce of moral decency, but you know what they say; never trust a Kelnian with your family.”
“Unless that family’s Obruo,” Liora replied. She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.
Zran stared at her. “Obruo’s your family?” His voice lowered with realization, “And he tried to blow you up? You’re right. Maybe I’d take the Kelnians.”
Men in stripped suits and with strange skullcap hats came up to them when they walked through the door.
“Congratulations,” the one with the black skullcap said. “You’ve won!”
“Nobody thought you would beat the maned chenowik,” a second told them with a grin as he shut the door behind them.
“Of course not,” another said.
“Nobody ever beats a chenowik,” one echoed from the back.
“So who would have thought you would take the bowl,” the first said.
“The bowl?” Zran repeated.
“The stakes, the winnings, the bowl,” the man in the black skullcap explained. “You two took the cake, the total, the entire profits, and since you won without the Arachnians, you don’t have to split it with anyone. Congratulations!”
The man shoved a heavy canvas bag into Liora’s hands. They went through another hearty round of congratulations, then disappeared back up the wide, highly-lit hallway.
Zran’s eyebrows pulled together. “What just happened?”
“I’m not sure,” Liora replied.
She set the pack on the ground and unzipped it. The amount of bars inside made both of them stare.
“Are those iridium?” Zran asked.
Liora hefted one. “Looks like it.”
Zran whistled. “We’re rich.”
Liora shook her head. “You’re rich. I don’t need it. Besides, I owe you.”
“You saved my life from that chenowik,” Zran pointed out. “You don’t owe me.”
“Just the same, it’s yours.” She gestured to his arm. “But you need to get that taken care of.”
A small door Liora hadn’t noticed in the side of the hallway opened and two little pink-skinned women in starched white jumpsuits came out. Each woman wore a hat bearing the red H that marked the healthcare field.
“At your service, madam and monsieur,” they said at the same time.
“I’m fine,” Liora told them. “He needs the help.”
“Throwing me to the chenowiks?” Zran asked.
Liora smiled at the reference. “We beat that one already. They can’t be that bad.”
Zran eyed the two women who wa
ited motionlessly by their door. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Where will you go after this?” Liora asked.
Zran didn’t meet her gaze. “I’m not so sure about that, either.”
The way he stood there holding his bleeding arm with a lost expression on his face made Liora’s heart go out to him.
“Come find me after they patch you up. My crew has some business here, but we’ll be taking off as soon as we can. Find the Star Chaser at the loading docks, but be quiet about it.”
Zran eyed her. “Am I sure this is something I want to get in the middle of?”
Liora shrugged with a tip of her head toward the pack she held. “Either way, I’ve got your winnings. Find the ship and you can decide from there.”
Zran gave in. “Fair enough.”
Liora left him in the hands of the two women. She crossed the hallway to the wide door at the end. Cheers ran through the crowd again as another group of warriors were selected for battle. Their shouts and jeers echoed along the hall. Anxious to be away from it all, Liora pushed the button beside the door. It slid open.
“What on earth were you thinking?” Tariq said the moment she appeared. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her against the wall. “Are you crazy? What made you thinking jumping into the arena pit in the Gladarian was smart? Or did you think at all?”
The battle rage from fighting the chenowik still simmered beneath the surface of Liora’s self-control. Tariq’s anger set it free.
Liora slid her hand over the top of his arms, grabbed his right wrist, and twisted while she pushed down to break his hold. Maintaining her grip on his wrist, she ducked under his arm, punched him twice in the right kidney, ducked back the other way, and used her momentum to throw him over her back to the ground. She put a foot on his chest and glared down at him.
“You forget yourself,” she snarled.
Tariq stared up at her.
Liora fought back the urge to knock him out with a punch to the jaw for good measure. She took a steeling breath and turned away. Scooping up the canvas bag she had dropped, Liora stormed up the hallway in the only direction it led.
Chapter 15
Tramareaus was completely the opposite of what Liora was expecting. When she entered the room Tariq silently led her to, the Artidus man with dark skin gave her a graceful bow. His third arm swept the top hat from his head and when he smiled up at her, Liora found herself captivated by his seemingly bottomless dark eyes.
“My lady,” he said with a lilting accent. “You must be Liora Day. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
Unsettled, Liora glanced at Devren and Hyrin. Both were busy studying the exposed Omne Occasus. Hyrin was saying something quietly Liora couldn’t hear. Shathryn and O’Tule stood in the opposite corner. Shathryn’s arms were crossed over her chest and she appeared to be in a deep discussion with her friend. Stone waited a few feet away as though concerned by the direction of their discussion.
“As you can see, we’ve come to a bit of difficulty,” Tramareaus continued, “Come this way and allow me to explain.”
Liora walked with him to the Omne Occasus. Devren glanced up and his face filled with relief.
“Liora, thank goodness. What were you thinking when you jumped off that rail?”
Liora let out a breath. “Tariq already lectured me. I get it. What else did you want me to do? If I had waited a few seconds longer, every officer in the Gladarian would have been at your table to investigate why there was a Damaclan in the crowd. The Omne Occasus would have been uncovered, and your entire crew would be in holding right now. I had to act.”
“Our table.”
Liora studied Devren. “What?”
“You said your table. It was our table. You are a part of us, Liora. And we have a right to worry when one of our own jumps over a railing to brawl with who-knows-what in the arena. It was foolhardy.”
Devren’s softer tone broke through Liora’s defensive attitude. “It was,” she admitted.
“If I can be so bold as to interrupt,” Tramareaus said, “I’ll continue the breakdown of our situation.”
“Please continue,” Hyrin replied.
The Talastan’s eyes blinked sideways rapidly, telling of his nervousness. Liora steeled herself for whatever Tramareaus would say.
The Artidus gave her a charming smile and clasped his hands behind his back. “As I was saying, this bomb is made out of two kinds of energy that I have heard of but never seen before.” He pointed at the red orb inside the transparent box. “Using several different spectroscopic instruments, I’ve been able to measure the intensity and frequency of the energy these orbs are giving off. According to my research, the red orb is an energy called Feren. It’s a hot energy that requires extreme amounts of liquid to annihilate it. This blue orb is Bilar. It’s a cold energy annihilated only by a very concentrated sum of volts in amounts I can only begin to imagine.”
Tramareaus frowned and ran his free hand down his face to smooth his goatee.
“Each orb by itself is highly unstable. If the vial was to break and the orbs to touch, an explosion the size of this galaxy would most definitely wipe out anything within. Great care needs to be taken in destroying the orbs individually. As I was telling your captain, I am unsure who designed this weapon and what type of metal they are using. It is something I’ve never seen before.” He paused, then said in a softer voice, “And I hope to never see it again.” He looked at Devren. “You were right to hide this.”
“I keep telling myself that,” Devren replied. He held out a hand. “Thank you for your help. We’ll do what we need to.”
Tramareaus shook it. “Good luck.” He walked with them to the door and held it open when Hyrin and Stone pushed the crate out.
The girls barely glanced at him when they walked by. Tariq followed, then Liora.
Tramareaus gave her another sweeping bow. “My lady, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Good luck on this and all endeavors throughout the Macrocosm. Take care of the Kratos crew.”
“I will,” she said. She stepped into the hallway with an unexplainable smile on her face.
Devren gave her a questioning look.
“I don’t see why everyone thinks he’s that bad,” she said with an embarrassed shrug.
Shathryn and O’Tule spun in unison to face her.
“Oh, just you wait,” Shathryn said. “He might seem charming now, but he’s like that with all the women. He’ll capture your heart, then leave it to bleed out on the floor while he woos some yellow-haired Talastan from Gaulded Two Zero Seven.” She turned back around and stormed up the hall, her booted footsteps echoing.
O’Tule patted Liora’s arm sympathetically. “It was a hard week,” she whispered to Liora. “She got over him when she met a handsome Ventican, but she’s the queen at holding a grudge.”
“Good to know,” Liora replied.
They reached a main hall and fell in with the rushing crowd. Everyone huddled close to the Omne Occasus disguised in the crate. Knowing the volatility of the energy inside set Liora on edge. The others’ expressions showed that they felt the same way.
“He’s got to be here,” a woman called. Her frantic voice carried over the crowd. “Harriman Trun. His keycard was used. He has to be around here somewhere.” Her voice cracked. “I told them he was still alive. He just has to be.”
Hyrin’s eyes widened and he looked back at Tariq. “Hide your card, now!”
Tariq slid the keycard into his pocket.
“I have to use it to get out to the docks,” he said. “It’ll trigger her again.”
“Why is it triggering her at all?” O’Tule asked.
“She must be the officer’s wife,” Hyrin said, his voice level.
The realization that she was looking for an officer who was killed on Verdan struck Liora hard. The woman stood on a raised vent on the side of the wide hallway. Her eyes scanned the crowd with frantic intensity.
“Where are you, Harri?”
the woman asked. Tears streamed down her face and she clutched a uniform shirt to her chest.
“If she contacts the authorities, they might put an alert out for the rest of the officers killed on Verdan,” Hyrin said. “We’ve got to get off Titus, now!”
“We’ll split up,” Devren suggested. “Stone, Shathryn, go with Tariq. Give us five minutes to reach the docks and get the Star Chaser fired up, then hurry through. We’ll be ready to leave the second you show up.”
“Sounds good,” Tariq replied. “Except there’s one flaw to your plan.”
Devren looked at him. “What?”
Tariq motioned past his friend. “Them.”
A glance forward showed at least two dozen armed officers standing before the gates to the loading docks. They asked for keycards and checked the humanoids before allowing them to pass through.
“What’s this about?” a Terrarian with huge glasses asked.
“Standard inspection,” an officer in red replied. He held out a hand. “Keycard.”
When the Terrarian handed it over, the officer scanned the keycard. A hologram face surfaced on the officer’s reader. He looked from it to the Terrarian.
“Go on through,” he said with a nod.
The Terrarian accepted the keycard and walked between the gates.
“We aren’t getting out that way,” Devren said.
“Isn’t it the only way out?” O’Tule asked.
“Yes,” Hyrin replied.
“I’ll draw them away.”
Everyone looked at Tariq.
“Do I want to know how?” Devren asked.
Tariq shook his head. “Plausible deniability.”
He took off through the crowd in the opposite direction. At Devren’s orders, everyone moved to the wall to wait for whatever opportunity Tariq was about to give them.
“I hate it when he does that,” Devren muttered.
“He’s brave,” Stone noted.
“He’s alright,” Shathryn replied, her arm looped through the rebel leader’s.
