by Luna Voss
“32,000 it is,” Zyzza agrees, looking at me out of the corner of her eye with glee. “You’re going to auction her off at the Burbba capital?”
“Yes,” confirms Brath. “Warriors from three different clans will be there to bid on her. And she had better fetch more than 32,000.”
* * *
Now I’m riding on the back of a tusk-ox with Brath, while a cohort of other warriors rides around us. I’m still gagged, and my hands are tied behind my back.
I don’t know what to do. I feel helpless. Without Gurrak there to protect me, Zyzza had been easily able to take control of the situation, and to ensure that my transgression was taken seriously. I’m not even sure that most of the other warriors were aware what was happening. She basically just whisked me off to my room, and then sold me to Clan Burbba without anyone else really taking part.
I wonder how she’ll explain what happened to the rest of the clan. I wonder how she’ll explain it to Gurrak when he returns. Will they just accept it? Will Gurrak? Is this, then, to be my fate? Sold first to Clan Gurrak, and then to Clan Burbba, and then to who knows what other clan?
I can’t believe that I didn’t go along with Cleo and Drokal. What an utterly stupid decision that was. If I had gone with them, I wouldn’t be in this mess.
Of course, I also wouldn’t be mated to Chief Gurrak. Which as far as I’m concerned, I still am. It’s not like I knew that Zyzza would try to sell me like this. I did the right thing by sticking with my mate, and I would make the same decision again.
Man, though, did things take an unexpected turn.
My only glimmer of hope is that Gurrak will come and rescue me. He almost certainly has no idea what happened, and if his feelings for me have been anything close to genuine, he should be absolutely furious. I feel anger burning inside me as I think of Zyzza, and her pathetic desire to get rid of me. People like her make this world a terrible place. This is why we can’t have nice things.
If Gurrak ever does rescue me and I become his queen, I’m going to banish the shit out of her.
“We should be in Burbba Territory within a couple hours,” Brath says to me over his shoulder. “Don’t get too attached to me, now, Julia. You’ll have a new owner soon enough.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“35,000 power units!”
“40,000!”
“45,000!”
I stand in the center of the Clan Burbba town square the next morning, bound and gagged once again. As Brath had predicted, warriors from at least three different clans of Kyrzons are bidding for me. Far from the giddy anticipation I felt before I was supposed to be sold in New Sutter, now the only thing I’m experiencing is dread.
I don’t want to be purchased by any of these aliens. All I want is to belong to Chief Gurrak.
“50,000,” one of them growls, stepping forward. He has the longest beard of any Kyrzon I’ve ever seen.
“60,000!” roars another.
“75,000 power units,” announces the Kyrzon with the beard, and everyone goes silent.
“Anyone want to beat 75,000?” Brath asks the crowd, looking pleased.
No one does.
“Sold! Give me the power cells, and she is yours.”
The bearded Kyrzon roars in delight, and I quiver.
* * *
It isn’t until nightfall that the Kyrzons finish working out the payment. Apparently there was some kind of dispute about one of the power cells only being half-charged. Finally, they get it figured out, and I’m led off with the bearded Kyrzon, whose name is Dumma, along with several of his clan-mates.
We reach the outskirts of the Clan Burbba capital where their tusk-oxen are tied up, and Burbba pulls me onto his steed.
“You’re going to learn to like being mated to me,” he tells me, his voice gloating. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together, you and I.”
I glare at him. He still hasn’t untied me, or taken the gag out of my mouth.
“You’d probably like me to untie you,” he says, and I nod eagerly. “Well, I won’t. Brath told me about what happened at Clan Gurrak, and how they warned him that you would try to run away. I’m not falling for it. I didn’t pay 75,000 power units for you so I could turn around and lose you.”
I glower, and he climbs onto the tusk-ox in front of me. We start to ride, and all I can do is think about my mate. Will he even be able to find me, now that I’ve been sold to another tribe other than Clan Burbba?
We ride through the afternoon, into the evening, until it becomes dark. Then the Kyrzons make a camp, and I watch, still gagged, as they eat their food around the fire. Finally, when they’re finished, they offer me their scraps, and I’m hungry enough that I eat every bite.
When it’s time for sleep, they order me into the tent and use a leather cord to attach me to a stake, so that I can’t run away. They fall asleep quickly and I lie there listening to them snore, thinking about how much I’d like to run away and escape.
But it’s not worth it. Even if I did manage to somehow remove my bindings and get out of the tent, I wouldn’t last a day in the Kyrzon wilderness. I’d be some animal’s lunch within a couple hours. At least if I stay with Dumma, there’s some prayer of Gurrak being able to track me down.
I fall asleep in the tent with the Kyrzons, tied up and miserable.
* * *
The next day, we wake up early and continue to ride. Personally, I’m getting really tired of being bound and gagged. Not being allowed to speak when I was with Clan Gurrak was one thing, but this is something else.
Around noon, we reach this group of Kyrzons’ capital city. I realize as we approach that I don’t even know what clan they belong to. When we reach the city center, I see that this settlement is built around a grounded spaceship, just like New Sutter. In spite of my circumstances, I’m amazed to see it. Although Cleo has told me before that there are Kyrzon clans that have ships, actually witnessing one with my own eyes is a shock. Having grown up on the Ship in New Sutter, it’s very weird for me to see another vessel that is similar, but different.
As I’m brought onboard, the biggest difference that I notice is the size of the place. Everything is bigger. As though it’s designed for Kyrzons, and not for humans. I note this fact with confusion. I had always assumed that any ships possessed by the Kyrzon tribes would have been stolen from my species originally.
Dumma takes me to a cell on the bottom floor, where at last, he unties me and removes my gag.
“You’re keeping me in a cell?” I spit at him. “Why the hell did you buy me if you’re going to keep me prisoner?”
“Only for a time,” he says, winking at me. “Our clan believes in the ritual of captivity for Brides who are not purchased directly from the auction house. Soon, we shall be mated, but until then, you will remain here.”
He turns and leaves me alone, and I’m left steaming. How is it possible that this clan has an even worse set of mating rituals than Clan Gurrak? At least it doesn’t seem like he’ll be trying to breed with me any time soon.
I spend the rest of the day locked in the jail cell of an unfamiliar ship belonging to a clan whose name I don’t even know. Part of me wishes that I had tried to escape during travel when I had the chance. However dangerous the Kyrzon wilderness may be, it can’t be much worse than this. Being held in captivity is awful. I feel so helpless, like there’s nothing I can do other than stay here and hope for a miracle.
One thing is for certain: I do not belong to Dumma. I don’t care if he spent a million power units.
I think back to Gurrak, and the most recent time we spent together. I remember his big cock filling me up, and then marking me with his seed. I imagine his seed taking hold deep within me, and his little half-Kyrzon baby starting to grow in my belly.
I feel a weird sense of satisfaction as I remember Zyzza telling Brath that I had never been seeded before. How very, very wrong she was.
That’s one thing that nobody knows except for me and Gurrak.
I spend the next two days in the jail cell on the Kyrzon ship. Thankfully, they feed me three meals a day, and even better, I quickly realize that the room I’m in wasn’t originally intended to be a jail cell at all. It looks like it used to be an apartment. It even has its own bathroom, complete with a very nice area for bathing. I end up taking lots of very long, hot showers, unsure what else to do with myself. By the end of the second day, I feel like a prune, and I’m bored out of my mind. I’m at the point where I’m trying to make conversation with my Kyrzon jailers whenever they come to bring me food, just so I can have someone to talk to.
The only thing keeping me sane is the thought that Gurrak will be looking for me. That’s the one part of Zyzza’s plan that I don’t think she entirely thought through. Or at least, didn’t have enough information to really understand the situation. I think she was under the impression that once Gurrak returned and was told that I had broken the rules, he would be content with her having sold me. That is, after all, their clan’s custom.
But I believe differently. After the time I’ve spent with Gurrak, and the intimate experiences we’ve shared together, I feel that he and I are bonded in a way Zyzza could never understand.
I belong to Gurrak. Not because he bought me, but because he chose me. And because I chose him. He’s the man I love, the man I have surrendered my heart to, the man I have chosen to be my mate. I want to start a family with him. I want to bear his children.
And my heart tells me that he feels the same way.
And so, despite my captivity, and despite how objectively terrible this situation is for me, I hold out hope.
The man I fell in love with would never just surrender his woman to the mercy of a foreign clan.
It is this glimmer of hope that I cling to as I fall asleep that night, scared and alone.
* * *
I wake up in a sweat. I’m confused. It’s dark. For a moment, I don’t know where I am. I search around me in a panic, looking for a source of light. I find none.
A jail cell. I’m in a jail cell. I’m being held captive by who even knows what clan. The recognition is not comforting, but at least it answers my confusion.
But why is it so dark? Ever since I arrived here, there has been at least one light on in the hall outside my cell. I should be able to see the light through the door, but I don’t.
Something is wrong.
I don’t know how the Kyrzons are powering the ship, whether it’s solar energy or something else, but clearly their energy system is not working. I stay in bed, mildly fearful. What could be going on?
Above me, I hear a crash. And then another. Muffled voices shouting. I stay as still as I can, listening. It sounds like there are people fighting on the level above me.
Could it possibly be Gurrak?
I don’t want to get my hopes up. I haven’t even been here a week. For all I know, it’s this clan’s weekly fight night.
But that doesn’t explain why the lights are out.
The commotion upstairs continues, and suddenly, I remember something:
On the Ship in New Sutter, there’s a safety mechanism that unlocks every door onboard any time the power goes out. It’s intended so that no one is ever locked inside a room in the occasion of a blackout.
The room I’m in isn’t supposed to be a prison cell. If this ship is anything like the one I grew up in, the door to where I’m being imprisoned is already unlocked.
Cautiously, I creep out of bed. I hold my hands in front of my face protectively, unable to see a single thing, and make my way slowly to where I believe the door to be.
Not quite. I bump right into a wall. But it’s a start. I feel my way down the wall until I reach the door.
It’s open. I turn the handle, and just like that, I’m free.
Well, free of my cell, anyway. I’m still on the bottom floor of the ship, and it sounds like there’s a battle raging above my head.
Allowing the wall to guide me, I feel my way through the hallway until I reach the turbo-lift. I find it easily, which confirms to me that this ship must in some way be related to the one in New Sutter. It may be a little bigger, but everything is exactly where I expect it to be.
I press the button, and immediately feel like an idiot when the turbo-lift fails to start. Of course it isn’t working. The power is out.
I keep moving down the wall, heading for where I know the stairway to be. To my relief, I find a door, and when I open it, I find myself at the bottom of a flight of stairs, with a golden light flickering at the top.
I also hear yelling. Swords clashing together. Someone screaming in pain.
They’re definitely fighting. My heart soars. It has to be Gurrak.
I stay at the bottom of the stairs, unsure what to do. It won’t do me any good to go try and join the battle. I decide to wait it out, and hope that a course of action presents itself.
“Check on the girl!” comes a voice. “Her cell is open now that they’ve killed the power!”
I huddle against the wall, trying to make myself invisible.
Suddenly, a limp body tumbles down the stairs. It lands in front of me with a sickening flop, practically knocking me over. I look down, and see the face of a Kyrzon I don’t recognize. I think it’s someone from this new clan?
Then another body, and then another. I have to jump out of the way to avoid the third one. Clearly, the fighting at the top of the stairs is getting thick.
I hear another sound coming from above me, and I scan the staircase for another falling body.
But it’s something worse.
A Kyrzon heading down the stairs toward me.
And this one, I do recognize.
It’s Dumma.
My new owner.
…Or so he thinks.
“Going somewhere, are you?” he growls, lumbering down the stairs in my direction. I turn to run back into the hall, but I trip over one of the bodies and fall to the ground. When I scramble to my feet, I see that Dumma is now very close to me.
I can’t get away from him.
Suddenly, I hear a roar, and Dumma lurches forward as though hit very hard from behind. Gurrak crashes into him, charging at full force, and the enemy Kyrzon tumbles down the steps, barely missing me as he slams into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. I hear his sword clang as it hits the ground next to him.
I have no time to react to the immense relief of seeing my mate. Dumma jumps to his feet, picking up his sword and moving toward me. I sprint back into the hallway into the darkness. I know it’s a dead end, but there’s nowhere else I can run.
And besides, Gurrak is here now.
The hallway is still pitch-black, and I move as quickly as I can, touching the wall for guidance. Behind me, I hear Dumma slam into something and hit the floor.
A flickering light enters the room as Gurrak bursts through the doorway, a torch in one of his hands and a sword in the other. Dumma starts to pick himself off the floor, raising his weapon, but Gurrak pounces on him, delivering a hard forward kick right to the Kyrzon’s face. Dumma flops back to the ground, looking dazed. Gurrak kicks his sword away from him.
“Julia belongs to me,” the chief snarls, standing over him with his sword and torch.
“Not anymore,” Dumma spits, reaching for the dagger in his belt. “My 75,000 power units say otherwise.”
Gurrak roars and runs the Kyrzon through with his sword. Dumma goes limp, his dagger clattering to the ground next to him.
Then my mate looks up, and in the torchlight he sees me watching him with big, shocked eyes.
He shrugs. “He should have bid higher. 75,000 power units for you is just plain insulting.”
I laugh in spite of myself. What a time for him to make a joke.
Gurrak strides forward and throws his arms around me, holding me tightly. “You knew I was going to rescue you, right?” he whispers, stroking my cheek. “I hope you knew I could never leave you alone. I would have spen
t the rest of my life searching for you if that little shit Brath hadn’t spilled the beans the first moment I threatened him.”
I kiss him, too overwhelmed with emotion for words. He kisses me back, holding my waist, and for a moment, it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t matter. I’m with Gurrak again.
“I love you,” Gurrak whispers, nuzzling my cheek. “Julia, I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” I whisper back, peppering his face with kisses. I lock my lips with his a final time, wanting to extend this moment of peace before whatever chaos is to come next.
And then the kiss breaks, and I become aware once again of the sounds of screaming and fighting on the floor above us.
“Ready to get the fuck out of here?” Gurrak asks me, grinning. He passes me the torch, and then grabs my hand and holds his sword in the other.
“Ready,” I say, and together we make our way through the darkness to the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-Three
As we move up the stairs, the sound of fighting grows louder. I can tell by the flickering quality of the light shining down that the room above us is lit by torches.
We reach the top, and I see that the room is full of Kyrzons fighting. Several of them are warriors that I recognize as being from Clan Gurrak. Fighters from both sides swing torches, their swords clashing. On the other side of the room, the exit beckons.
“Clan Gurrak, it’s time to leave!” the chief roars, raising his torch. “Julia is with me.”
The Clan Gurrak soldiers begin to push their opponents back, their weapons dancing in the orange light. Gurrak leads me through the fray, shielding me with his body and his sword. His warriors begin to form up behind us, fighting now to defend our retreat rather than to draw blood.
