It is dank and cool as we descend. I clench my fists in frustration, knowing that in a fair fight – with or without Orb-Weapons – I could have killed all ten of these humans easily. Yet against those cowardly weapons? I’m not so sure – and with all that is at stake, I cannot take the risk.
I hear a drip of water as we’re marched down a corridor at the bottom of the stairs.
More guards await us there. They take a step back involuntarily as they see the three of us approach – and I suppose I cannot blame them. We tower over the humans, and each of my triad is wide as two or even three of them.
After a moment, though, the humans find their courage – or at least the pretense of it. They swell their chests and look at us as if pretending we had not already witnessed the fear in their eyes.
These humans have daggers at their belts and smaller weapons in their hands. They looks just like miniature versions of the same weapons the soldiers carry. I imagine they must be variants for more close-quarter encounters; and pack a punch less violent than their longer versions, but no less deadly.
In these close quarters, we could do incredible damage to these humans, even with our hands still cuffed. I’d watched the soldiers who took our weapons go through the front doors of the mansion. If I had just one of my Orb-Daggers, I could cut our warrior triad free and unleash living hell on these cowardly men.
The soldiers murmur with the guards in their foreign language. They talk loudly. I know their type – the blustering kind of coward who is gripped by fear, yet tries to hide it behind loud noises and boastful words.
They manage to hide nothing. In fact, I can see more clearly than even they can. None of these humans know how close they could be to death if I, or Hadone or Darok, willed it so.
It’s so tempting. I know that I could leap, and kick, and crush windpipes and snap necks even with my hands cuffed. Just as we are right now, I might get out alive...
…but then what?
Where would I lead my triad then? This culture has resources. They have some sort of flying beast, that moves them like the dragons that used to haunt my home planet. They have weapons that can kill you from afar.
We might escape right now – but I would be leading my battle-brothers into a hostile world that I do not know; and every step we take would lead us further away from the woman that I must protect.
“We wait. We wait for our chance,” I telepath, and instantly Darok and Hadone uncoil their muscles. They were just as ready to strike as I was, and had been waiting for the signal to turn these cramped quarters into a bloodbath.
Instead, we conceal our deadly potential, and march obediently down the hallway past jail cells with bars at the door.
Within them, human prisoners cower, pressing themselves as far away from the bars as possible. It’s ironic – they’re more scared of us than they are of the humans who keep them imprisoned here. What is it that makes these humans fear and loathe our kind so much?
I’m pointed towards a cell with the pointy-end of one of those lethal weapons, and reluctantly I duck inside. Darok and Hadone are pushed into their own cells nearby – close, but not adjacent to mine. Somehow, I know that these humans understand how my triad can communicate with each other telepathically. Otherwise, they’d have put us in cells too far away from each other to talk vocally.
I file that information away. Clearly, these humans have some knowledge of Aurelian physiology. Knowing what your enemy knows – and using it to understand the way your enemy thinks – is a vital tactic for success.
Fear is the key. These humans fear me. They fear us. Even the servants. Fear will be my weapon – stronger even than my fists or my blades.
14
Tammy
I’m led up a flight of opulent stone stairs towards the front doors of this immense mansion, while I see the Aurelians frog-marched to a pathway leading behind the estate.
When the massive doors in front of me open, it’s all I can do not to gape like a country bumpkin.
Growing up near the Capital, I knew that there was wealth behind the walls of the city – yet until now, I had no real understanding of the extent of them.
Everything I see now demonstrates the incredible influence and power that an oligarch like Lord Aeron can command. As I step into the hallway beyond the doors, I see that almost everything around me is lined in gold. It’s as though I’ve stepped back in time, and I realize that the décor has been chosen to make this mansion look as though it came from the home planet of our species, Earth, many millennia ago.
Overhead, a huge crystal chandelier hangs above us, light reflecting off it beautifully in a million directions. The rays of reflected sunlight glimmer off the gleaming gold and ornate mirrors all around. The entire mansion is clearly designed to resonate with an aura of overwhelming wealth and power – to make everyone who walks into this house – whether they’re a dirty hobo or an honored dignitary – feel equally small and unworthy in comparison to the owner of the estate.
I keep my head up, though. I won’t let this décor have that effect on me. It’s all just smoke and mirrors anyway – a psychological trick – and given that I just survived the living hellscape and fiery oblivion of Barl, I have every right to feel proud of myself.
Lord Aeron might have a beautiful house, but he’s done nothing to help the former citizens of Barl. In fact, I have a horrible suspicion that the man who
