by Luna Hunter
“We should go over there,” I say. “See the ambassador himself. Go straight to the source.”
Riley grabs my hand. “You could be walking into a trap.”
“We don’t have any other option. I’m not going to sit here and let this unfold.”
“You could die.”
“Then I’ll die honorably.”
Riley’s brown eyes are filled with anger. “I don’t want that! I don’t want you to go on some suicide mission!”
“Neither do I, my love,” I say, as I bring her hand up and kiss it. “I want to spend my time with you, but we have no other choice. We’ll never be safe in a universe at war, and that’s what is on the line here. The universe as we know it.”
My mate nods. “You… you’re right.”
“Thank you.”
“But I’m going with you!”
“No,” I say decisively. “Stay.”
Riley puts her hands on her hips and looks me straight in the eye. “Don’t make me take you out as well,” she says as she playfully raises her fists. “I’m starting to develop a taste for it.”
I can’t suppress a grin. “Fine. I see I can’t contain a mighty warrior like yourself.”
“Finally you’re starting to talk sense.”
“Guys?” Michelle says. Narek and her are watching us with raised eyebrows. “We’ve got a war to stop, can we save the flirting for later?”
I nod, straighten my back and assume my serious posture once more. “Affirmative.”
“I’ll go see Vilmar, the Falur ambassador,” Michelle says. “Met him at the Falur bar as well,” she explains.
“And I’ll join you as we go see Yo’x,” Narek says. He takes the two axes that hang above the couch down, giving me one of them. The weight feels good in my hands. I run my finger across the head, and a small trickle of blood appears. Still sharp.
“These aren’t just ornamental,” he says. “Hope we don’t have to use them, but I fear the worst.”
I wrap my free arm around Riley’s waist, lift her up and plant a firm kiss on her lips. Whatever happens next, I want her to know that she’s my everything.
Just as I’m about to tell her that I love her with all my being, she places her finger against my lips.
“Save it,” she says, “whatever it is you’re going to say. Tell me later, after we’ve stopped this war from happening. Promise me that.”
“I promise.”
13
Riley
There’s so much tension in the air you could cut it with a knife. Narek’s got his hands on the steering wheel of the hover-car, his knuckles turned white as he weaves through traffic. The long-haired man changed out of the loincloth and into a form-fitting leather armor. His window is open, causing his long, black hair to blow in the wind. Combined with his thick beard he almost looks like he ought to be on a motorcycle.
Thabo is sitting next to him, two axes in his hands as he stares into the distance, totally concentrated. I’ve read about the Zoran’s battle rage – they can go into a trance, and it seems Thabo is doing just that. I’m sitting in the back, afraid to break their concentration, so I don’t make a peep. I glance out the window at the chaos below, hoping that this is all some kind of bad dream.
I want nothing more than to wake up in Thabo’s bed, before any of this started. Before somebody bombed the station, before my own boss tried to attack me, before everything went to shit. Unfortunately, I can’t get out of this jam by pinching myself.
This is the real deal.
I swallow the lump in my throat. We could very well be riding into real danger… what if Yo’x is behind this all? Maybe I should have gone with Michelle?
No. I can’t bear the thought of being without Thabo, not when he’s in so much danger. I just hope I can be of help, rather than a burden, if it all comes to blows.
“There it is,” Narek says, breaking the silence. “Yo’x residence.”
A giant, round pod on stilts overlooks the bustling streets of the Observer. It’s very different from Narek’s home; his was made out of bare rock, with straight lines and sharp corners. Yo’x house is all curves, with a sleek feel to it.
It looks decidedly alien and unreal – just like the Tyk’ix themselves.
“Wait here,” Thabo says when the car is parked.
“No,” I say as I hop out. “I didn’t come this way to wait in the car!”
“It might not be safe.”
“That’s exactly why I’m coming,” I answer. “I’m not letting you go in without me.”
Thabo breaks out into a smirk. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“I do, and I’m proud of it.”
Narek knocks on the door, and Thabo’s smile is instantly replaced by a grim expression. “Show time,” he says as he hands the Melek one of the two axes.
The door slides open instantly, and we’re greeted by total darkness. I try to peer in, but it’s hopeless.
“Enter,” a dark, brooding voice says. Narek and Thabo exchange a nod before they step into the blackness. I quickly follow, resting one hand on Thabo’s back. I don’t want to lose hold of him, not for even a moment.
I’m as blind as a bat in here but Thabo’s vision must be better than mine, for he leads me through the darkness. It’s incredibly cold in here, and shivers run down my spine. The horrible smell of rotting fish mixed with gasoline fills my nostrils, and I have to cover my mouth to keep from gagging.
“Welcome.”
The voice sounds more like it’s coming from inside my own head than from anywhere around me. A faint, red light appears in front of us, and slowly the room starts to take on a shape.
The room we’re in is shaped like an octagon. In the middle of it, on a platform sits Yo’x, on a throne constructed out of bone. His lanky body is covered in dark robes, with a red, flowing cape attached to his frail shoulders.
My eyes grow wide when I see where the faint light is coming from, and I can’t help but gasp. The orb of Ny’r is floating in the air, right next to Yo’x. It’s a round, glass-like orb, filled with blood-red veins, and it gives off strange, pulsing colors.
I wrote my thesis on that orb – or at least, I speculated as to how it worked, for in truth, I have no idea. This is the first time I’ve ever seen one, and it’s as gorgeous as I imagined it would be.
I know the Tyk’ix use it to communicate telepathically. They can instantly transmit their thoughts to other users of the orbs, cutting out massive amounts of time. Imagine the progress one could make when you don’t need to explain yourself any longer, if you could share your thoughts instantly!
Somehow, the Tyk’ix have mastered that power. I used to be in awe of them. I thought they were the pinnacle of civilization, and I wanted nothing more than to learn their mysterious ways. Now, as I gaze upon Yo’x sitting on his throne, his bony fingers hovering above the orb, I’m instead filled with dread, fear, and disgust.
These aren’t civilized beings. They aren’t the cultured, sophisticated, cosmopolitan aliens I imagined them to be. Instead, I have found them to harbor all of the qualities humanity has conquered long ago.
Xenophobia. Prejudice. Arrogance. Hatred.
At least, I thought humankind was past all of that, but Orson DuPont has proven the opposite. I’ll deal with that man later; right now, I’m staring down a dangerous and powerful alien.
“Yo’x,” Narek says. “What’s going on? Why have you called for mobilization of the military? Why haven’t you informed me, or Vilmar on what’s happening? Answer me!”
“You blind fool,” Yo’x says. Even though he’s sitting on the throne in front of us, it feels like he’s whispering it into my ear. A cold shiver run downs my back, and my fingers find Thabo’s hand. He squeezes me encouragingly, and I’m happy to feel he’s still warm.
“You don’t see what’s happening, do you? You always have been easy to play, to use, to manipulate. Melek, Falur, Zorans, humans, they’re all the same in the end. Pawns. Una
ble to see the hand that’s about to crush them until it’s too late.”
“Narek,” Thabo growls as he raises his axe. “He’s not going to answer any questions. Look.”
My heart leaps into my throat when I see countless Tyk’ix warriors loom up out of the darkness, surrounding us on all sides. They’re carrying spears and halberds, and they’re pointing them straight at us. Their dark eyes gleam with hatred, and I press my body against Thabo’s.
“Tell you men to back down,” Thabo says. “You have one chance to turn yourself in, Yo’x.”
The strange alien smirks, baring his many, sharp fangs that lurk beneath his tentacles.
“Kill them all,” he hisses.
With a mighty roar Thabo leaps forward, grabs a spear with his free hand and pulls the Tyk’ix warrior close. A moment later he brings his axe down and splits the alien’s head right open. Purple ooze bursts out, dousing the room with the foul liquid, and I gag from the stench.
All hell breaks loose at that moment. Narek joins Thabo in the fray, breaking their spears, smashing their heads, cutting the Tyk’ix down one-by-one. I make myself as small as possible to avoid being caught up in the melee.
I have my qualities, but fighting alien warriors in hand-to-hand combat is not one of them. Luckily, I have Thabo on my side. He’s one of the fiercest, strongest warriors in the universe, and he cuts through our enemies like they’re not even there.
He moves with such fluidity, such grace, that I can’t help but admire his beauty. I abhor violence, and the sight of blood makes me wince. I never ever, in a thousand years thought I’d ever have feelings for a warrior, let alone admire his fighting skills, but I have to admit: the way Thabo moves around the room is like art.
Every step is perfectly timed. He moves, he dodges, he ducks, then raises his arm and swings his axe, then turns on his toes and cuts another Tyk’ix down.
My gaze is so focused on him I don’t notice the Tyk’ix sneaking up on me. Suddenly, I’m pulled back, the blade of a dagger pushed against my throat.
“You lose, Zoran,” the alien hisses. “Surrender.”
Thabo turns towards me, his entire body covered in scratches, dents, and blood. His orange eyes are wild with rage, and he lets out a deafening cry. For a second I fear he’s going to charge towards me.
“Let her go!”
“Surrender,” the Tyk’ix hisses again.
From the corner of my eye I see Narek is resting with his back against the wall, blood pouring from the many stab-wounds in his chest. The tide of battle has turned against us – but I don’t want to end up as food for these creatures.
“Don’t do it,” I cry out. I don’t want him to give up his life for mine. I’ll never forgive myself.
To my horror, Thabo drops his axe. It hits the ground with a clinking sound, and my stomach drops. He can’t give up. He just can’t.
“Let her go,” he growls again.
“Kill her,” Yo’x says. “Kill them both.”
“No!” Thabo roars as he races towards me. The dagger in front of me is raised, and I see it glistening in the faint light caused by the orb of Ny’r. Is this it? Is this how I die?
My eyes are locked on Thabo as I await the killing blow… but it doesn’t come. The hand holding the dagger goes limp, the blade falling on the floor. I whirl around to see a Falur man holding a large blade that’s lodged between the Tyk’ix’s ribs.
It’s Vilmar, the Falur ambassador. Standing next to him is Michelle, her hand covering her mouth in shock. Thabo runs up to me and hugs me as more Falur carrying longswords pour into the room.
“Are you okay?” Thabo asks. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I say as I hug him as hard I can. For a second there, I thought it was all over. I thought I was never going to hold him again, never see his eyes twinkle when he looks at me, never see that cocky smirk on his face again.
For a second I feared I was never going to experience what a true Zoran warrior is like between the sheets. My heart explodes with joy as I hold him, as I feel his warmth, and as I feel his lips brush against mine.
“Never scare me like that again,” he growls as he kisses me. “I thought I lost you.”
“And you can’t bear that thought?”
“I can not.”
The Falur warriors strike the Tyk’ix men down easily. They surround the throne upon which Yo’x sits, pointing their swords at him.
“Give up, Yo’x,” Vilmar says. “You’ve lost.”
Yo’x lets out a howling laugh that cuts right through my bones. He doesn’t seem worried in the slightest, despite the room being littered with the bodies of his soldiers.
“Far from it,” he says. “Far from it.”
The orb of Ny’r rises up from the floor and hovers in front of Yo’x. It takes on a menacing, dark purple glow, and the veins inside the transparent orb seems to throb and twist angrily. Terror grips my heart, and I cling to Thabo’s frame.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “We’ve got him cornered.”
I don’t share my mate’s confidence. Yo’x doesn’t seem frightened in the slightest. Instead, he’s got a diabolical grin on his face. His long, bony fingers are all pointing at the orb, and he’s muttering or chanting something in his alien tongue, like he’s focusing all of his power.
The orb. I remember now. I read about this when I did research for my thesis. It works as a conduit for the Tyk’ix’s psionic abilities. It allows them to communicate over vast distances instantly – but this flow can, theoretically, also be reversed. According to the literature it could be used as a terrible weapon that doesn’t harm the body, but utterly destroys the mind of the unfortunate souls who face its wrath. Only the most powerful, most wicked of telepaths would be able to do such a thing, however.
Yo’x fits that bill perfectly.
“Stop him,” I tell Thabo. “Before it’s too late!”
“He can’t harm us, trust me,” Thabo says.
“You don’t understand! He’s—”
It’s too late. Yo’x emits a high-pitched cry that bounces off the many walls and makes my head throb in pain. I double over, pressing my hands against my ears, and my head feels like it’s going to split apart. I glance up to see the Falur men are all writhing on the floor in excruciating pain, frantically clawing at their own heads.
Thabo is moving towards Yo’x, one step at a time, his axe hanging by his side. Dark-red blood pours down his face. He raises his hand as if he’s going to throw the axe when the entire room is bathed in purple light. The light in the center of the orb of Ny’r is so bright it hurts to look at it, yet I can’t tear my eyes away. It’s drawing me in, draining me of my power, my will, my very sense of self.
And then, there is nothing.
I’m floating in utter darkness, weightless. At ease. I don’t remember where I am, or who I am for that matter. I can’t recall why I was so terrified only a moment before.
It doesn’t feel like a moment, though. It feels like an eternity. Not that it matters. I’m at peace now. I don’t think I’ve ever been this comfortable, this happy.
Wait.
Happy?
No.
This not what happy feels like. Right now I feel… nothing.
No worries, no stress – but no happiness or joy either. This doesn’t feel like having a glass of red wine after a day of hard work. This doesn’t feel like a mouthful of chocolate when you’re soaking in the tub. This doesn’t feel like your first kiss. The one with the man of your dreams, the one you’ve been pining over, but feared he didn’t know who you were – and then one day he smiles at you, and your stomach fills with butterflies, and then he’s standing close, oh so close, and he leans in, and the world seems to stand still for a moment as you feel his breath, and then your lips touch and it’s fireworks, and the world is bathed in light, and…
Thabo.
That powerful name pops into my head. It means something. I can’t put my finger on it, but I feel it’s i
mportant. I feel with my whole being that something important is going on, and I need to fight this.
Whatever this is.
I focus on the name. Thabo. I say it out loud. Softly at first, but soon I’m screaming it out. Every time I do, I feel a little happier. The name fills me with warmth, with a sense of purpose. I open my eyes. I see nothing at first – a darkness so black it hurts my eyes. I force myself to keep them open.
Every time I say that name, the darkness seems to ripple. It’s like a thick mist, a menacing fog, but if I focus hard enough I can peer through it. For a second, the darkness lifts, and I see a shape in front of me.
The dark-red outline of a man. His chiseled face is familiar to me, his powerful jawline making my stomach flutter. That is Thabo. My Zoran warrior. My mate.
Bits and pieces of my life, of my memories come flooding back to me. The emotions I feel when I see Thabo are so powerful that I can hold onto them. I focus all of my thoughts on them, and I feel myself growing stronger by the second.
I want to spend the rest of my life with that man. I’ve never felt happier, more alive than when he’s by my side. The fireworks that I felt when he kissed me were so powerful they lit a fire inside of me, a fire that’s so strong I can fight whatever dark power is trying to extinguish my thoughts.
My entire world trembles when I hear a dark voice rapidly approaching. It becomes louder with every passing second, like a freight-train that’s barreling down on me. “Sssssurrenderrrr,” a slithering voice booms. “Gggggive innnn.”
“Never!” I scream. “Never!”
“Whhyyyy do youu ressssissst?”
“Show yourself!”
In the darkness, a figure forms. He’s as tall as a mountain, and as skinny as a pencil. Long tentacles, as big as oaks, slither down from his jaw, writhing like snakes. It’s the most horrific, nightmarish thing I’ve ever seen. The tentacles come crawling closer, and a part of me wants to shut my eyes and give into the darkness.
But I can’t.
I won’t.
I crawl to my feet, stand up straight and raise my hands in defense. “You can’t stop me,” I say. “You won’t win. I won’t let you.”
