by Lili Zander
Huh. That’s a very interesting hypothesis. The High Empire of Zorahn, the Adrashian Federation, and the Makpi Alliance are the three great powers in the galaxy. The founding members of the Triumvirate.
But what he’s hinting is impossible. Even more impossible than seeing Adrashian cloakships landing on a planet in the heart of the High Empire. Because the three powers have hated each other since the dawn of time. For them to build their houses next to each other, for them to act like friendly neighbors… Such a concept is anathema to us.
“What did Dariux say about the lost city?” I try to remember the conversations back in the Dsar Cliffs over glasses of kunnr wine and ‘beer,’ the strange beverage that the human women seem to enjoy. “He said that the scientists created it. Set it up as a refuge for Draekons when the High Emperor Kannix ordered them annihilated.” I blink in confusion and rub my aching temples. “It was a refugee colony. How did they survive?”
“I don’t know.” Rorix sounds just as puzzled as I do. “They did more than survive. They thrived, Ferix. They built our Dsar Cliff home. That took tech. Advanced tech.”
“Adrashian tech? How did the Draekons convince the techmages to share their knowledge? The best smugglers in the High Empire can only get hold of the things the Adrashians consider useless. The real good stuff, they guard jealously.” I take a deep breath. “And the Makpi… They’re intensely reclusive. All my life, I’ve learned that the Makpi eschew contact with the galaxy. How is it possible that one of them lives here?”
We stare at each other. If our theory is right, then the lost city is so much more than we thought. So much greater. So much more powerful.
“Dariux is forcing them out of hiding,” Rorix murmurs. “I can only hope he did the right thing.”
Superior tech. Superior weaponry? But are they friend or foe?
I’m about to answer when a high-pitched whine fills my mind, and I contort in agony, falling to my knees. My head explodes in pain, and the dragon roars in distress.
Trouble.
At my side, Rorix is similarly incapacitated. Through hazy eyes, I see his skin harden into silvery scales, and his fingers lengthen into claws. The bones in his body shatter, break and reform, and the dragon emerges, shouting its defiance at the sky.
We must protect Sofia.
I roar, and a jet of fire streams out of my mouth. I extend my wings outward, prepared to launch myself into the air to take on this unknown, hidden threat.
Then I see it.
Two streaks of light, racing toward us.
Missiles, a voice inside me warns. You must intercept them before they hit the houses. Before they hit our mate.
I know this voice. This is the man who has held me prisoner for many years. The man who has kept me from my mate. I find him weak. Frail and useless. He makes decisions I don’t understand, choices I don’t support. I never agree with him.
Except in this. In this one thing, we are united. We will die to protect our mate.
I leap into the sky, throwing myself in the pathway of the weapons. I scream with rage. How dare anyone attack me? I am Draekon. I am built for war. For carnage. I will destroy everything in my path.
The tightly focused beams of light near. Rorix collides with one, and for one instant, his entire body is ablaze. And then the other missile is on me. It crashes into my chest, and I too am burning.
So hot.
So much pain.
I can’t hold on. Can’t stay conscious. I flap my wings, agony in every stroke, but the motion’s slowing.
I’m falling. The hard, unforgiving ground is hurtling toward me.
And then, nothing.
21
Sofia
I don’t know what wakes me up. Maybe I heard a sound? Maybe the room was too cold? Too hot? All I know is that I lurch out of bed, my heart pounding for no earthly reason.
The house is deathly quiet.
“Ferix?” I call out, struggling into my clothes, not caring that my t-shirt is inside out. “Rorix? Guys, are you here?”
It’s not like them to leave me. Even when they’re hunting, they take turns heading out. One of them always stays within earshot. Their protectiveness should feel stifling, but it doesn’t. Not when the Zoraken have shown that they are ready to kidnap me and take me back to Earth, irrespective of what I want. Not when there’s a bounty on my head.
No, their protectiveness has always felt comforting.
I jam my feet into my sneakers, not bothering with the laces. Some instinct sends me to the front door. I pull it open, and immediately, a high-pitched noise fills my ears.
Where’s that coming from?
I look up, and what I see makes me gasp. A pair of enormous silver dragons—my dragons, Rorix and Ferix—are winging their way toward two streaks of light. As I watch, the beams hit them, and they seem to burst into flames.
They’re wheeling helplessly through the air, plummeting toward the ground.
“No,” I shriek. I start to run in their direction, but I’m too late. They crash, throwing up a cloud of fine pink dust.
By the time I reach them, they’ve transformed back. Their eyes are closed, their bodies perfectly still.
For one horrifying second, I think they’re dead, and I almost lose it. Then years of training kick into place. I bend my head toward Rorix’s face.
He’s breathing.
Ignoring Rorix’s awful ash color for an instant, I transfer my attention to Ferix.
He’s breathing too.
Oh, thank heavens. My mates are both alive. Unconscious, probably concussed, but alive.
Relief floods through me. Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores, I whisper, murmuring the familiar prayer, tears running unchecked down my face. My grandmother and I used to pray together when I was a child. It’s among the most enduring memories of my childhood, and I draw on its strength now.
Because I’m going to need it.
We’re on a different continent, and there’s no one around for miles.
No place I can go to for help.
I can’t search for the lost city on foot. I can’t leave Ferix and Rorix behind, and I certainly can’t take them with me.
While I know a little bit about Draekon physiology, I don’t know enough. I have no idea what to do in this situation. Not a clue how to treat them. If Vulrux were here… but of course, he isn’t. He’s trapped in the Dsar Cliffs.
Think, Sofia, think. There’s got to be something.
I’m afraid to move them. What if they’ve broken their backs? But I also can’t leave them here, exposed to the elements. And what if there are more killer bursts of light?
I’m trying to decide what to do when another noise catches my attention. I automatically look at the sky, and I see a shape in the east, getting closer as it approaches my location. A plane of some sort, I think.
But the dot in the sky is not the only object that’s zooming toward my location. From the north, another vehicle is speeding along the ground, much closer than the plane.
Who could this be?
I get to my feet warily, gripping my ring in my fist. So far, no one has come in peace. The Zoraken want to send me back to Earth, no matter what I want. Those two bursts of light attacked Rorix and Ferix. Whoever these new people are, I don’t know, but I’m not taking any chances.
The ground vehicle is closer now. It’s shaped like a long bullet, but it has no wheels. It’s a hovercraft of some kind, and it’s moving impossibly fast. When it’s only a few feet from me, it comes to an abrupt halt, and the roof slides open.
And an alien gets out.
This alien isn’t Zorahn, isn’t Draekon. Its skin is covered in red feathers. A long, thick tail hangs down its back and drags along the ground.
Keep calm, Sofia, I say to myself as the alien walks toward me. It’s not that different from you. It’s got two eyes, just like you. Two ears. One nose. One mouth.
But I’m fooling myself. My hands are trembling wi
th fear. My legs threaten to give way under me. Only the fact that I can’t leave Rorix and Ferix behind keeps me rooted where I am.
“Hello,” the alien says. It looks at the sky. “That object is a Zoraken skimmer. It’s coming for you. If you don’t want to go with them, I suggest you get into my transport.”
The alien is speaking English. Perfect, unaccented English.
My mouth falls open. How in the name of God is this possible? Have I lost my mind? I’m not hallucinating this, am I?
“Sofia Menendez, we do not have time for hesitation.” The alien’s voice turns impatient. “The Senate has not yet authorized the use of force against the Zoraken. We must get your Draekons into my transport and make a run for it. Now.”
I finally find my voice. “Who are you?”
“I am Silu. I’m the second-in-command in the city of Ashara.” The alien’s big green eyes rest on me. “I believe you’ve been calling it the lost city of the Draekons.”
22
Sofia
Silu is female, an Adrashian techmage who got bored of working in the lab and became an administrator instead. I learn all these things as she takes four metal disks from the tool belt around her waist and efficiently slaps them on Rorix’s shoulders and feet.
“I don’t know if he should be moved,” I warn her, biting my lip in worry at Rorix’s strained breathing and ashen color. Please let them be alright. Please let this alien help him. “He might have broken something.”
“It can’t be helped,” she replies grimly. “The healers will fix him up back at Ashara.” She moves over to the back of her transport and opens the roof, and then, she fiddles with a round dial on her belt. A still-unconscious Rorix slowly levitates until he’s at shoulder-level, and Silu maneuvers him into her vehicle, which, I just realize, has two long stretchers in the back, side by side.
Hang on. If she’s so prepared, then she’s been spying on us.
“You knew you’d have to move them,” I say accusingly. “Were you watching us? And how do you speak English anyway?”
She doesn’t reply right away. She floats Rorix into the transport, and gently sets him down on one stretcher, and then moves toward Ferix to repeat the procedure. “We reverse-engineered the Zorahn translators, and did a language implant into our brains,” she says finally. “Routine stuff. I find the translators clunky.” She seems to roll her eyes. “Zorahn technology is primitive and unsophisticated.”
If she’s sneering at the Zorahns, she’s really not going to like Earth.
She’s also avoiding the other question I asked. “Have you been watching us?” I repeat. “If you have, you must have known that my mates are in the grip of a fever. Why didn’t you intercede?”
She floats Ferix over to the transport too. I get the sense that she’s choosing her words carefully. “The Senate has voted against interfering with the exiles,” she says. “We can only intervene if someone is in imminent danger.”
“Am I in danger now? Is that why you’re here?”
She does a weird little head bob. It’s neither a nod nor a shake. “Get in,” she says. “It will take us an hour to get to Ashara.”
Okay, so she’s not going to answer that. I get into her transport, and thick straps automatically criss-cross my torso, cradling me so tight that I can’t move. “Can your healers cure Ferix and Rorix?” I cross my fingers as I wait for her answer. “Can they reverse the fever?”
There’s a long pause. The transport rockets forward, and I’m thrown back in my seat. “I’m not sure I should answer that,” she says once we’re underway.
“Please.” This is our last hope. Our only real chance.
She must hear the raw emotion in my voice. “It’s complicated,” she says. “But yes, there is a cure for the Draekon fever.”
We’re going so fast that the scenery outside is a blur, but it still seems to take forever to get to Ashara. The grasslands slowly give way to a rocky beach. Then we speed across a massive inland lake and then another gently undulating plain.
All the while, my emotions are in a turmoil. For the last few days, as we’ve searched for the lost city, I’ve implicitly assumed that, of course, the Draekons there will help my mates. Of course, they’d cure them of the fever if they can.
But evidently, things are complicated. And that’s not reassuring. Not at all.
I’ve got quite good at judging the passage of time without a watch. After a little more than an hour, the vehicle seems to slow down at the base of a massive mountain range. “Ashara,” Silu announces.
All I see ahead of me are rocks. “Where’s the city?”
The alien rolls her eyes. “You’re looking at it.”
Oh. Right. Duh. No wonder Silu’s looking at me as if I’m some kind of idiot. Just like the Dsar Cliffs, the city is built inside the mountains. “Umm,” I hesitate, wondering how to point the obvious out to Silu. “How secure is this place? The soldiers were able to pinpoint the location of all of us pretty easily, mountain or no mountain.”
Silu makes a dismissive sound in her throat. “The mountain that your human companions are sheltering in was built five hundred years ago as a prototype when we thought about expanding our settlement,” she says. “Even the Zoraken, inept as they are, will be able to find it. Rest assured: Ashara is far better hidden.”
For incredibly selfish reasons, I hope she’s right.
Other questions dance on the tip of my tongue. Did you hear Dariux’s message? Are you going to help my friends? But I bite them all back and watch, my mouth hanging open, as a section of rock slides open as we approach.
Then we’re inside. At last, I’m in the lost city of the Draekons.
“The dwelling you call the Dsar Cliffs is one tower,” Silu volunteers as we glide along a dark tunnel. “In Ashara, underneath this mountain range, we’ve built twelve such towers.”
“How big is the city?”
“We have approximately six thousand inhabitants,” she replies.
“That many?” I sit up in my seat. Now that we’re not traveling as fast as before, the straps have loosened, and I can move around somewhat. Good thing too; I’m pretty sure my butt’s falling asleep.
“Is that a lot? From our research on your home planet, six thousand is a very small number.”
That’s true. There are seven and a half billion people on Earth. Then again, until I ran into Silu, I thought there were less than fifty people on the prison planet.
My mind has already jumped ahead to the next question. Silu’s Adrashian. How did she end up on the prison planet? “Were your ancestors brought here when your city was founded a thousand years ago?” I ask curiously, remembering Dariux’s theory about the creation of the lost city.
She snorts. “Of course not. I moved to Ashara fifteen years ago.”
“But the asteroid belt…” My voice trails away. “Doesn’t it stop people from traveling in and out of the prison planet?”
“It stops the Zorahn.” She sounds dismissive. “The Adrashians have charted the orbits of the asteroids and have found a way through.”
Oh. There’s so much new information to process. If it’s possible to fly in and out of the prison planet at will, then it’s no longer a prison planet. What will it mean for the Draekons in camp? Many of them have no hope of finding a mate, ever, if they remain here. Will they choose to leave, or are there single women here, in this city, that they could date and marry?
Focus, Sofia. For the moment, the only thing that matters is the health of your mates.
The tunnel comes to an end, and our transport emerges into what I can only describe as an atrium.
This place. I have no words.
I’m not an engineer. I have no idea how someone hollows out a mountain without making it collapse. No clue how to fill the inside of this space, an area that should be dark and dingy, with gorgeous natural light. It confounds me that grass and plants and flowers grow in a space without any sun, and I’m absolutely astonished that someon
e has managed to build twelve towering skyscrapers in the heart of a mountain range.
I thought the Dsar Cliffs were a marvel of engineering. I now see why Silu was so snide about it.
Silu appears pleased by my reaction. “We’re heading to the Nixmi Tower,” she says, gesturing to a shiny blue skyscraper to my left. “Named as a tribute to the lost people of Joram. In the language of the Joramim, Nixmi means peace and harmony.”
“Peace and harmony. Is that what this city stands for?”
She does her weird little head bob again, and once again, she doesn’t answer. Fine. I don’t really care about the lost city anyway. All I want from them are two things. I want them to save Rorix and Ferix, and I want them to help my friends.
When we near the tower, the transport starts to rise. I clutch at the sides and try not to freak out. You’re not going to plummet to your death, Sofia. To keep myself from screaming like a baby, I ask Silu another question. “Where are we going?”
“Healers Hall,” she replies readily. “The Draekons need attention.”
Finally. It’s about time.
Healers Hall looks like a hospital room. Sure, I don’t recognize any of the instruments, but it has that unmistakable, indescribable air about it. There are two long circular MRI-machine looking things—to be honest, they look like coffins, but that’s too macabre to contemplate—and a wall of monitors.
A man and a woman are in the room, waiting for us. They’re both tall, and I’m reasonably sure both are Draekon. Well, Zorahn, at least.
“Took you long enough to get here,” the woman grumbles as the two of them maneuver Rorix and Ferix into the pod-bed-thingys. They’re speaking in English too. I guess that’s for my benefit.
“I was going as fast as I could,” Silu says apologetically. “I had to cloak the transport the entire way here. The Zoraken are pretty persistent.”
