Hotbloods 4: Venturers

by Bella Forrest

  “Purity is paramount.” She sighed, a flicker of something passing across her calm face.

  A groan rose from the back of Cambien’s throat. “We have already figured out a way around the purity problem, Freya. I told you that. I’m not sure how many more times I can tell you that without exploding through sheer frustration!” he grumbled. “Navan has promised to do what’s necessary so we do not make the corruption permanent.”

  She shook her head. “Violence only begets violence.”

  Cambien looked like he wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her as hard as he could. “A coldblood destroyed a whole wing of the temple and took the lives of our people, draining them of their blood!” he barked. “Yet you stand there like nothing happened. You stand there like you’re an almighty being who can’t be swayed by anything, but you must feel something for those we have lost! Do their lives mean nothing to you? She ripped out their throats, Freya! This is not a time for a passive approach!”

  “The cycle will not continue,” Freya replied.

  I glanced at the rest of the group, but we all appeared to be in a similar state of awkwardness around these two Draconians. There was a familiarity in the way they spoke to one another, and I imagined they’d had discussions like this many times over the years, as leaders of each sect.

  Cambien rolled his eyes. “What, so you want me to just free all the coldbloods and let them run amok? Their minds will be too far gone, Freya—there will be no way to control them. En-masse, they may well turn on us, driven mad by their incarceration, and kill us all. If I let them loose, I wouldn’t be surprised if they cut down as many of us as they can, and since you will not let us fight back, that will probably end up being all of us!”

  “They may stay in stone,” Freya answered.

  Cambien snorted. “Keep them in stone? That will not solve anything. We will stay as we are, never able to take our true forms again, growing weaker with every year that passes, and for what? So they can stay locked up in their opaleine prisons for the rest of eternity?”

  A smile tugged at her lips. “We will leave.”

  “You think your rusty deathtraps can take all of us across the universe?” Cambien remarked sourly. “You’re living in a dream, Freya, and you need to wake up. There is no alternative planet. There is nowhere else we can call home.”

  “Irrith,” Freya replied.

  The heavily accented name of my home planet sent a shiver up my spine. It was still on the table, but I wasn’t determined to knock it clean off. I knew they wouldn’t try to take over, because that wasn’t their style, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be bloodshed. The human race was young, in the grand scheme of the universe, and that made us impulsive and defensive, prone to making bad decisions. Plus, the rebels probably wouldn’t appreciate another alien presence on their home base. Only suffering would await the Draconians on Earth, of that I was pretty much sure.

  “Freya, you can’t all leave. Cambien is right—you’re taking an enormous risk for very little gain,” I interjected, knowing I had to speak up. “How do you know there isn’t already a species on this planet who will only cause you more pain? And that’s if you even reach the planet without being attacked.”

  Navan nodded. “You’re putting your people in harm’s way. I know I’m not in any position to offer advice, but I think you’d be making a huge mistake.”

  Freya remained silent.

  “You won’t convince her—it is why she’s staying quiet. She has nothing more to say on the subject, so what use are words?” Cambien sighed, clearly annoyed. “It’s one of the most irritating attributes of a Looney.”

  Another flicker of emotion glittered in Freya’s eyes. I could see that Cambien affected her in a way that others didn’t.

  “I still manage to get a reaction out of her, though.” He chuckled bitterly, as if reading my thoughts.

  Ignoring him, Freya turned her attention back to us. “The blood is yours still.”

  “You’ll still give us the vial of blood we asked for?” Lauren asked, incredulous.

  She nodded. “Then you may go.”

  So it was the Draconian equivalent of hush money. They would give us the vial of blood if we agreed to leave Zai and, most likely, never come back. Then again, if they were set on going to Earth, there would be no Draconians to return to, if we were ever in this part of the universal neighborhood again.

  “You want us to leave as soon as we’ve been given the blood?” I pressed, wanting perfect clarity.

  “You bring only chaos,” she remarked sternly. I couldn’t argue with her. Since we’d landed, all we’d done was cause them trouble. A quarter of their temple was in ruins because of us, and people had died.

  “We’re sorry,” Angie said, with a deep sincerity that I shared.

  “They didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Bashrik added, prompting a tiny frown to appear on Freya’s forehead. Even so, she said nothing of it, choosing to conserve her words.

  “The ritual will be tomorrow,” she announced.

  With that, she made her way back to the ring of Lunists. I looked over to see Ginji watching us intently. He’d probably been listening in on the whole thing. Regardless, the conversation was over, and we were back at square one. Yesterday, I’d feared it from Pandora, and now Freya had confirmed those fears. It seemed we were destined to never catch a break.

  Admittedly, I was glad about one thing—that Freya had put a stop to us reversing the corruption by killing the frozen coldbloods. I didn’t think I could have stood by and watched Navan cut down so many people. I wouldn’t have wished that many deaths on his conscience.

  “Why do I feel like someone should be singing kumbaya?” Angie muttered.

  Lauren sighed. “If the blood extraction ritual is going to happen tomorrow, then we need to come up with something else, and fast.”

  I nodded. “There has to be something we can do to stop them from traveling to—” I paused, aware that Cambien was still standing with us. “—Irrith.”

  The Draconian smirked. “Good luck with that. It takes a brave individual to stare impossibility in the face and refuse to blink. I, meanwhile, will be at the bar, drinking everything in sight until I reach a cozy level of oblivion. You are free to join me, if you wish,” he said, turning around and disappearing through the petrified village. I noticed that Freya watched him go, a disapproving expression on her face.

  Navan sighed. “I guess this was a wasted trip, then.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. The glorious high priestess does make some valuable points, and she has imparted her divine wisdom to us. We should be grateful for that,” Bashrik chimed in, an almost giddy tone in his voice as he looked across to her.

  Navan stared at his brother. “We need to go, before I decide to take Cambien up on that offer of a drink,” he muttered.

  “Cozy oblivion does sound tempting,” I agreed as he pulled me tightly to his chest, his wings stretching out behind him. Next to us, Bashrik did the same, his arms encircling Angie and Lauren.

  We had less than a day to figure out another way of uncorrupting the opaleine, but our hopes were looking slimmer by the second. Frankly, it felt like we were all out of options.

  I sat bolt upright in bed. Something had woken me.

  Outside the window, the sky was dark, the glow of the Zaian moons casting their multiple shades of dim light upon the planet below. We’d gone to bed a few hours earlier, having stayed up to try to figure out a solution to the imminent Draconian exodus, but to no avail. In the end, we’d all agreed to sleep on it, on the off chance that some kind of epiphany would come in the night.

  However, instead of a lightbulb moment, I felt fear. Somebody was in the room with us, though I couldn’t see them. Whoever they were, they were stealthy, and they were hiding.

  “Navan,” I whispered, shaking him awake. “There’s somebody in the lodge.”

  He sprang up, baring his teeth, the muscles of his bare chest rippling.r />
  “Who’s there?” he snarled, prowling toward the end of the bed. As he did so, a tiny voice squeaked from the corner of the room.

  “It’s just me, Ginji!” it said anxiously.

  Navan turned on the light, revealing the young Draconian, who was quaking on the threshold between the bedroom and the rest of the lodge. “Why didn’t you just wake us up?”

  “I didn’t know how you’d react. I was trying to think of the best way to do it, without frightening you, or triggering some kind of beast mode,” he explained, casting an apologetic look at Navan, who seemed amused.

  “Beast mode?” He laughed.

  “You know—claws, fangs, ripping my head off,” Ginji said, his voice trembling.

  Navan smiled. “I might be a bit beastly in the mornings, if I haven’t slept well, but I wouldn’t rip off any heads just for that.”

  I yawned. “What are you doing here, anyway, in the middle of the night? Does Freya know you’re here?”

  Ginji hurried to the edge of the bed and clambered up, perching at the bottom like a strange animal. “No, she has no clue. She’d be so mad if she knew. The thing is, I had an idea, and I had to tell you as soon as it came to me.”

  “Those might be the sweetest words I’ve ever heard. We’ve been completely stumped,” I admitted. “What’s the idea?”

  “Is there any way you can take the frozen coldbloods back to Vysanthe with you?” he asked. “I’ve got the antidote insects with me, so all you’d have to do is wake them up and corral them onto your ship.”

  I frowned, half amused, half curious. “You have the antidote insects?”

  Ginji grinned. “I stole them from Cambien. He was blackout drunk, didn’t feel a thing!” I had to hand it to the little Draconian—he was definitely starting to think outside the box.

  “We need to make a detour on our way back to Vysanthe,” Navan explained. “The last thing we need is a horde of crazy coldbloods getting loose on a tin can in the wilds of space. They’d kill us in our sleep.”

  Ginji did a funny hop at the end of the bed. “Please consider it!” he begged. “It’s the only way to fix all of this. I have been thinking about it for ages, trying to come up with a compromise that my parents could settle on that took the best parts of both their philosophies, but they hate compromise. You must take it to the middle ground for them!”

  A look of confusion passed across Navan’s face, mirroring my own bemusement. “Your parents?” I asked.

  “Freya and Cambien,” Ginji clarified, leaving us dumbfounded.

  I was utterly amazed that those two, so blatantly opposite in every way, had ever been a couple. It explained the conflict in Ginji, being stuck between two contrasting sects, each led by one of his parents. I imagined them pulling him in both directions, though it wasn’t clear how much time he got to spend with his father. Considering Cambien’s drinking and womanizing, it couldn’t be much, though I had a feeling that wasn’t necessarily Cambien’s choice.

  “So will you do it?” Ginji asked.

  For a moment, neither me nor Navan said a word as we mulled over the prospect. I didn’t particularly like the idea, especially as we only had a few places we could securely contain the coldbloods. If it were a shorter journey, it wouldn’t be so bad, but to carry them all the way back to Vysanthe would be a risky nightmare. Then a lightbulb went on in my head.

  “Why don’t we drop the revived coldbloods off at the quarantine facility? That’s nearby, right?” I suggested, looking to Navan.

  He nodded. “It’s not too far.”

  “That way, we only have to take the coldbloods a short distance, and then we can go on to the outpost without having to worry about them,” I continued excitedly, knowing we’d reached the perfect solution. All thanks to Ginji.

  Navan flashed a half smile. “Yeah, and if we do that, we can wait to awaken the coldbloods until we’ve transferred them to the medical bay and strapped them securely to the beds. We can fit a few in the isolation chamber, too, and maybe put some extras in the supply rooms, if we run out of space in the med-bay,” he said. “We should have enough vials of blood in the ship’s stores to sustain them, too.”

  “Ginji, you’re a freaking genius!” I cried, lunging forward to scoop him in my arms and hug him tight. The physical contact seemed to alarm him for a moment, his amber eyes going wide in panic, but eventually he settled, nestling into my shoulder.

  “I just don’t want to leave my home,” he murmured.

  Never had a truer sentiment been spoken. I imagined you could travel the length and breadth of the universe, and every species would share that same feeling. It transcended everything. Home was home, and the sooner we got this mission over and done with, the sooner I could get back to mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  We woke the others shortly afterward, bringing an excitable Ginji with us. They were groggy, confused as to why they were being woken up in the middle of the night, but as soon as we explained what we were going to do, their faces morphed into masks of enthusiasm.

  “You’re a genius, Ginji!” Angie yelled, pulling him into a tight hug, just the way I’d done.

  “People keep saying that,” he murmured, half smothered by Angie’s ample bosom. “Your people seem to enjoy physical contact a lot more than we Draconians do,” he added, wriggling free.

  Bashrik nodded. “That’s precisely what I tried to tell Angie the other evening, when we were in the hot springs, but she wouldn’t listen!”

  Ginji looked up at Bashrik with confused eyes. “What happened to him?” he asked, looking to the rest of us for answers.

  Lauren smiled. “It’s a long story, involving the virus.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much. The symptoms tend to fade after a while. I’ve seen it with the other coldbloods my father has cured,” Ginji said confidently. “It’s the initial weirdness that tends to be the problem, but once that goes away, victims’ memories slowly start coming back. Although, it didn’t do the other ones much good in the end—they went crazy and ran off into the jungle and got eaten by lycosa. They’d been encased for too long, I think.”

  Despite that last part, Angie pulled Ginji in for another joyful hug, almost suffocating him the second time around, his head trapped between her cleavage.

  “Angie, let go of the poor boy!” Bashrik said. She did, but she wore a renewed grin. I could understand why. Ginji’s words meant that the normal Bashrik would be returned to us soon enough.

  “We should probably get started. Is there room to land the Vanquish on the crater of Mount Kusuburi?” Navan asked.

  “There’s plenty of room, if you’re skilled enough,” Ginji replied, a hint of distaste still lingering when it came to the coldbloods of our group.

  “Did the ring of Lunists leave?” Lauren asked, appeasing Ginji by distracting him.

  “Yes, they left when the sun went down to attend to evening prayers,” he explained.

  Navan frowned thoughtfully. “And how many other mining camps are there, like the one at the top of the crater? We need to be sure we get every single frozen coldblood. Otherwise, the corruption won’t reverse.”

  “Two more, though they aren’t as big,” Ginji replied. “There are fewer than ten statues in each of those, and I’ll show you where they are. Both are visible from the top of the volcano.”

  With a plan in motion, we set to work. All five of us, with Ginji in tow, headed away from the clearing, hurrying toward the Vanquish. We reached it in no time, amused to find that Ginji was already waiting by the closed bay doors when we arrived—we’d watched him sprint on ahead, but he was even quicker on his feet than we’d imagined. Evidently, speed was another attribute of the Draconians.

  “Slowpokes!” He chuckled to himself, his amber eyes turned toward the ship, his whole demeanor excited, like a kid in a candy store.

  Smiling, Navan opened the doors to the ship, and we all went inside. Ginji looked around the main chamber in awe, his mouth hanging open. I
guessed the Draconian biremes weren’t as impressive as this, though I still hadn’t had the chance to see inside one. Vysanthean engineering was amazing. It was just a shame that most of the technology was stolen and amalgamated.

  “Do you want to see the cockpit?” Navan asked Ginji.

  The Draconian boy nodded so hard I thought his head was going to fall off. “Yes, please!”

  Bashrik went with them, while the three of us girls stayed in the main space, sitting down on the bench where Pandora had spoken with us what felt like a lifetime ago. A moment later, the engines thrummed into life, the ship taking off and making its way toward the volcano.

  It wouldn’t be an impossible task to bring the frozen statues onto the ship, but I was still worried there might not be enough space for everyone. From what Ginji had said, there had to be at least fifty or sixty coldbloods, frozen in time, between the three mining camps. Then again, this was a warship, designed to house a large number of people.

  It was still dark when the ship landed on the crater. Navan set it down in stealth mode so as not to disturb the village that lay below. It was vital that we got the coldbloods into the ship without anybody noticing, though I didn’t think the Pyros would be too eager to help us out, even if we asked them. Plus, Cambien was likely still blackout drunk somewhere, sleeping it off.

  With six able bodies, we made relatively quick work of the crater’s petrified village. Navan, Bashrik, and Ginji—to my amused shock—could carry a coldblood each, singlehandedly, while Angie, Lauren, and I could carry one between the three of us. The opaleine weighed the frozen figures down considerably. It was a comical sight, Ginji carrying a coldblood over his head, like watching an ant carry an enormous leaf back to the anthill.

  Just under two hours later, we had the first batch on board, stowing them all safely in the large med-bay that took up much of the bottom deck, on the opposite side of the weapons pods. I’d been off in my initial estimation. There were actually forty-five coldbloods in total, from the crater, each of them securely strapped to a bed in the medical bay. To my delight, ten beds were still free, and we still had some space on the floor, giving us space for at least fifteen more. So there was plenty of room for the coldbloods we needed to collect from the other two camps.