Dragon's Hope (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 4) Page 16

  It doesn't matter though. I have to figure out a way to get us back to Drakonov. The other females want to take epis to their friends and family at the other crash site, too. That is easier than trying to get Lana and I back to Drakonov at least. Maybe once Ragnar heals he'll help me do that for them. Lana being able to translate should make it possible to interact with them without causing a panic.

  "He's in the back," Ormarr says, as I walk into his cave.

  Ormarr is a healer. He has bright eyes and colorful scales that are brighter than most Zmaj, all emblematic of his position in our former society.

  "Thanks," I say, walking past him and then through a leather curtain at the back side of the space.

  Ragnar is sitting up and extending his wing then pulling it back. He looks up as I enter, frowns, then works his wing again.

  "Getting better?" I ask.

  "Yes," he answers, sullen. "It's healing too slow."

  "You're lucky all you did was tear the tendons," I say.

  "What do you want?" he asks, glaring at me.

  "I was going to propose an expedition to the humans near here," I say. "Take Lana so she can introduce the Tribe to them. Offer them epis, let them know where their missing females are."

  "Why?" he grouses.

  "Why not?" I ask. "They're not prisoners, they want to see their friends and families."

  Ragnar shakes his head, winces in pain, then sighs.

  "Sure, I'll talk with the Commander about it."

  "Good," I say. "Do you need anything?"

  "No," he says, his brow furrows as he continues working his damaged wing.

  "All right, I'll check with-"

  A blood-curdling scream cuts me off mid-sentence. Ragnar and I exchange a quick look before he's following me out into the valley. More screams and shouts are followed by the ringing clash of weapons. Chaos grips the valley. A Zmaj runs past me towards the entrance carrying a spear. Two others run towards the rear of the valley.

  "What is it!" I yell, grabbing one of the Zmaj as he passes.

  "Zzlo," he pants, fear in his eyes.

  "No," Ragnar exhales.

  Just then I see them. A Zmaj I don't recognize is just ahead but he's not fighting, he's grabbing other Zmaj and pummeling them with his bare fists. The new Zmaj looks wild, he's roaring, wearing only a cloth around his waist. Several Zmaj are closing with him, wielding spears. He grabs a spear as it's thrust towards him, pulling the unfortunate Zmaj in. He grabs the Zmaj, lifts him over his head as if he weighs nothing and throws him into the others.

  Behind him are five Zzlo firing their electrical weapons at anything that moves. One of them, in the center of the group, has a long pole with a bulky end that crackles with live electricity. He uses this to poke and prod the crazed Zmaj, controlling him.

  "See that?" I ask Ragnar.

  "Yeah," he says.

  "We have to stop that one," I say.

  "Right, let's go," he answers.

  As we run towards the invaders, Drosdan, the Commander's Second, bounds up next to me. He's so big as to make me feel like a human next to him. He roars and it echoes off of the walls of the valley. Two of the Zzlo look and point. They bring their weapons to bear on him. He bounds forward then leaps into the air, his wing spread is so wide it casts a huge shadow across the ground. The Zzlo fire at him and I'm sure some must hit but he lands in the middle of their group, tearing into them.

  The one with the stick guiding the crazed Zmaj maneuvers him, turning him towards Drosdan. I don't waste the opportunity. Grabbing the Zzlo from behind, I wrap my arm around his neck and squeeze. He yelps in surprise but I'm able to choke him out despite his struggling.

  The crazed Zmaj rushes towards Drosdan, screaming a primal sound. Drosdan is in the middle of the Zzlo. Their weapons are hitting him over and over but he powers through, taking them out one at a time. Other Zmaj join him and the fight is swinging in our favor but the crazed one will ruin it all. Looking around, no one else sees what's about to happen.

  I dive forward, spreading my wings to catch what air I can, and tackle the enemy Zmaj. I hit the back of his head with my shoulder and we hit the ground together. Rolling over and over we come to a halt with him on top of me. He screams, throwing his arms wide, puffing out his chest. Vicious scars and open wounds cover his body. He doubles up his fists and slams them against my head.

  Pain. White hot explosions rock through me. Coppery blood fills my mouth. I throw my hands up to protect myself. He flails wildly, blows raining down. Kicking up to knock him off of me doesn't work. He rolls with it but never stops hitting me. There is no intelligence to his fighting, only blind attacks. Hitting my arms, chest, and the sides of my head. A blow gets past my guard, hitting my left eye. I feel it swelling and my vision restricts. I'm losing.

  Rage rises with the pain. No one beats me. I won't lose. The bijass flows in, trying to take control.

  "Astarot!"

  Lana's voice.

  The blows stop, just for an instant. He's turning his attention to her. I know it, she's too brave. She'll try to save me. No, I have to save her.

  Red clouds my vision as the bijass takes over but as I give over to it I see her. The look on her face when I lost control. No, rage isn't the answer.

  Edicts. Edicts are life. Edicts bring us together.

  "Don't kill him!" Ragnar yells.

  The mantra, I repeat it, and my mind clears. He's distracted, looking at Lana, so I take the opportunity before me. A hard right under his chin and his head cracks back, blood flying. My tail comes up, slamming into him again. His eyes widen in surprise as he cries out in pain. Instead of fighting more, he curls into a ball.

  Rising I stand over him, he doesn't move, but whimpers. Ragnar appears beside me then kneels next to the enemy Zmaj, but he jerks away as Ragnar reaches for him.

  "No," Ragnar says, his voice soft, shaking his head.

  "What is it?" I ask.

  "Ryuth, what have they done?" he asks the crazed one.

  "Ragnar, you know him?" I ask.

  He looks over his shoulder and nods. "This is my brother."

  A sickness grips my stomach looking at the broken shell of a Zmaj warrior. One who has given in to the bijass.

  "I'm sorry," I say.

  Ragnar's face hardens. Looking out at the Zzlo, he grips his spear tighter.

  "Make them pay," he hisses, charging into the fight.

  Ragnar races at the group of Zzlo, dodging left and right, avoiding their gunfire. Reaching the first one he swings his spear around, bringing the butt hard against the Zzlo's head and spinning him around. He fights with unmatched rage. Between Ragnar's rage and Drosdan's size, the fight with the Zzlo turns in our favor. Several of them are down but the remaining few are retreating out of the valley. It's not a full route, they're maintaining discipline, firing as they back out.

  Several Zmaj take hits. A Zmaj leaps from the top of the valley, hitting a Zzlo and tumbling him out of the fight. There are four remaining slavers. They're exiting the entrance to the valley with a mob of Zmaj chasing them led by Ragnar. They have to have a transport. If I can get that, then I have a way to get us back to Drakonov.

  I run. They're holding a position at the opening where it's small enough to keep the Zmaj from flanking them. Seeing this, I change directions and run up a ramp on the walls to the second level of caves. Reaching the top of it I leap and grab the edge of the valley top. Scrambling over I resume running.

  Swinging wide to avoid possible guards, I come around to the entrance to the valley. The transport is sitting there not far at all. The Zzlo have all their attention on the defense they're mounting and don't notice me running for their transport. I'm almost there when the sizzle of electricity whizzes past, just in front of me. They've noticed me.

  Pouring everything I've got into my run, I move faster, spreading my wings and leaping every other step. My foot lands on the metal ramp with a clang. Electric bolts hit the transport on either side. Ducking, I run inside
. Having been captive in one of these before, I'm familiar with the layout.

  Going through the door that leads to the front there's a door on the wall. Ripping it open, inside is one of their lightning weapons. I grab it and at the same time I hear footsteps on the metal ramp. I turn and fire without looking. The Zzlo takes the hit in the face, flying backwards and slamming to the ground.

  Outside an engine whines. Running out and waving the gun around, I see another Zzlo has mounted some kind of smaller machine. It's long and thin with a seat on top. He looks over his shoulder then does something and the machine jumps into motion. Firing at his retreating form I don't even come close to hitting him.

  His form fades away in the distance. The Zzlo will be back with reinforcements.

  24

  Lana

  "There is no choice!" Astarot says, raising his voice over the clamor.

  The Tribe has gathered in the open space of the valley before the Commander's cave. My fellow human women huddle together, staying close. I'm doing my best to translate for them but it's hard to keep up. The conversation is fast and furious.

  Ragnar and Astarot are face to face. The Commander and the two Elders watch them argue. Beside Visidion stands Drosdan, his Second, with his massive arms crossed over his chest. The crowd of Zmaj are shouting back and forth as a split forms among them. Some favoring Astarot's plan, while others are on Ragnar's side.

  Chewing on my lower lip I watch them argue. Astarot is right, the Tribe cannot stay here. The pirates know they're here and they will be back. They're slavers, how could they not return with enough force to capture everyone here? And what they did to that poor Zmaj that lead the attack!

  A cold grip squeezes my heart thinking about him, Ryuth. Ragnar, his brother, told us his name. Astarot may have beaten Ryuth but the signs of their fight are all over Astarot's face. It was a close fight. Ormarr has that one restrained. He says it will take time but he should be able to nurse him back to health. The healer said nothing about his sanity returning.

  "This is the Tribe's home," Ragnar says. "I will not give it over."

  "You don't have a choice!" Astarot says, continuing the argument.

  They've been at it for an hour at least. The Commander and Elders haven't said a word, only watched as the two men argue and the Tribe splits almost even between their opposing views.

  "We do, we fight!" Ragnar says and his side of the group cheers, brandishing their spears.

  "Right," Astarot sighs, shaking his head. He turns, looking at me and the women standing with me. "What about them?"

  The cheers trail off as the Zmaj look at each other then at us.

  "What do you mean?" Ragnar asks. "We protect them! We fight for them."

  Astarot nods, slow and thoughtful. "Sure," he says. "You'll fight. You might win, sometimes. How many were hurt this time? And the next time? How many the time after that? How long before there are so many of them you not only lose, they take your females? What then?"

  I translate for the women behind me.

  "I'm not any alien dragon-man's female," Delilah says, snapping her fingers. "They best be thinking again!"

  "Do they mean we're never going free?" Olivia asks.

  The other women speak over each other in a rising panic. Great, not what I intended. My mom, Bailey, steps out of the crowd and stands next to me. The other girls continue feeding each other's rising panic until she puts two fingers in her mouth and rips out a whistle that so loud it echoes off the stone walls of the valley. Silence falls not only over the girls but all the Zmaj behind us, too.

  "Listen," Bailey says. "These men have been good to us and you're all acting like brats. This planet sucks, we know, and our survival is far from assured. I'm not saying you all need to pick a mate but working together improves not only our survival but theirs too."

  "Yeah but-" Delilah says.

  "No buts," Bailey cuts her off. "We have to face some hard truths. Lana says she and the other survivors are living in what was once a great city. Now I don't know about you but that sounds a lot better than the wreck of our ship we're calling home."

  Muttered agreement from the girls. All the Zmaj are staring, their arguments halted.

  "Care to translate?" Astarot asks.

  "Sure," I say, and tell them what Bailey said.

  "I like it," Penelope says. "We should go there. A dome and a real room to call home? I'm in."

  Kesselin is whispering to the Commander who then taps his staff three times pulling everyone's attention. "Astarot is right," he says.

  I swear you could hear a pin drop, the silence is so complete. I translate for the humans, speaking softly and they nod, feeling the solemnity of the moment. No one says anything more, they all just leave. Soon I'm standing alone with Astarot and Ragnar.

  "You got your way," Ragnar grouses, still upset.

  "I only want to help," Astarot says.

  "We'll see," Ragnar says, turning and walking away.

  Alone, we stare at each other and then warmth forms in my core, spreading throughout. The slight breeze blowing through the valley touches my skin, raising goosebumps as butterflies dance in my stomach. An empty ache follows and looking at him I know it's time.

  "Astarot," I say, breathless, my pulse racing.

  "Yes?" he asks, staring into my eyes.

  I'm falling into those violet pools.

  "I love you," the words fall off my tongue unbidden, carrying more than three simple words ever could.

  Time freezes, the world is just the two of us. Profound words, spoken in a moment of naked truth, exposing my soul. His strong arms wrap around me, protecting, lifting me off my feet and then our lips crash together in a joining. Time resumes as he whirls me, turning a circle.

  When our lips part he's laughing. Tears run down my face as I wrap my legs around his waist. He kisses me again, his eyes sparkle with delight. As we kiss, it fills the emptiness inside me with him. Distant clapping invades the moment and I realize that we're not alone. Astarot sets me back on the ground and I turn to see we've attracted a crowd, including my mom.

  "I love you, with all that I am," Astarot says, keeping an arm around me.

  "Mom!" I exclaim, my voice cracking with unrestrained emotions.

  She runs forward and wraps her arms around both of us.

  "I'm so happy for you," she says.

  "Nervous?" Mom asks.

  "Shouldn't I be?" I ask back, laughing to keep myself from exploding.

  "You look amazing!" Penelope exclaims.

  "I do?" There are no mirrors here, makes it hard to get an outside perspective.

  "I told you so already," Mom says.

  "I know, but you're biased," I grin.

  I'm wearing a finely stitched, exquisitely soft, bleached leather dress. Arawn provided the materials and apparently Astrid is really good at sewing. Somehow, they pulled together a simply beautiful dress. Olivia found something like charcoal and she's used it to line my eyes, it's the best we've got.

  Today I'm committing to Astarot. I've never heard about the ceremony but the Commander insisted he perform it before we leave. He wants the honor himself he says. A way of thanking us for coming in their time of need.

  Emotions so strong grip me I can't tell if I will cry or explode. I do my best to control them, laughing and giggling to let the pressure out. A dozen hugs later and I'm lead outside. My mom walks beside me and the other women fall in behind, making a train.

  We walk down the ramp from the second tier room we prepped in. The Zmaj males line the walls of the valley. When we reach the bottom of the stone ramp, they step forward as one. It makes a sharp, stomping sound as they do. My heart pounds in my chest as my pulse races faster than a ship breaking gravity.

  Astarot is standing at the end of the line of men, all of them with their spears angled in forming a tunnel for me to walk. As I approach they pull their spears back. Blinking to keep the tears at bay I walk slow, savoring each moment. There is an unreality to the wor
ld.

  None of the other girls back home had anything like this. They said they were together, and that was it. There aren't this many Zmaj back at Drakonov so ceremony isn't a big deal. I'm light-headed, dizziness spinning around my head like I'm circling and about to fall. I can feel my breathing increase until I'm sure I'll hyperventilate.

  Locking eyes with Astarot the spinning stops. He's my rock. His beautiful face, those stunning eyes, his strong broad shoulders, bulging arms ready to carry me through anything. When he smiles, I know he loves me. I'm important to him.

  He takes my hands in his and I look up. We stare at each other, silent, letting the crowd see us. The Commander lays his hands on ours, gripping them. His cool hands are almost cold, despite the heat. A bead of sweat runs down my brow, my heart is doing double time beats. This is it.

  "Astarot," the Commander says. "Your heart has yearned and been answered. Is this the female you would share water with?"

  "It is," Astarot says, his voice strong and certain.

  "Lana, your heart has answered the call. Is this the male you would share water with?"

  "It is," I answer, no hesitation.

  The Commander holds his hands on ours a moment longer then steps back. Drosdan moves forward. He's carrying a barrel so big that his arms can barely wrap around it. Despite his massive size it's obvious he's straining. It looks like a job for two or three but Drosdan is that way.

  He sets the barrel down with a grunt. Sand flies up as it drops the last few inches to the ground. Rising and moving to the side the Commander comes back up. He takes the lid off of the barrel. Inside is water, cold, cool, refreshing water. An excessive amount.

  "Water brings life," the Commander says. "In sharing water, you commit one to another and both to all of us. Our future rests on you."

  He places his cupped hands in the barrel then moves over to Astarot and pours water over his head. Stepping back to the barrel he gets another handful of water then pours it over my head. I gasp as the cold liquid drips down my face and runs down my spine. Then he steps back. Astarot steps to the barrel, cups his hands and draws water, and turns.