The platform came to a halt, the gate lifted, and the two guards stepped out. They didn’t even glance in their direction, and Joan was about to sag with relief when disaster struck.
As the guards descended, Polly had tried to push herself further and further back against the rock. Somehow, she dislodged a small shower of stones. The clattering noise was loud enough that the guards turned in their direction. One of them gave a loud cry, and the other raised his electric whip. Varga raced forward, and to her horror, the whip landed on one of his scars. Golden fluid gushed out, and he crumpled to his knees.
“Varga!” She was already starting towards him when Ahona caught her arm.
His fingers were cold and slippery but surprisingly strong as he started dragging her with him.
“Look, your honors,” he said eagerly. “I found a female. I brought her along just for you.”
She tried to struggle as his words penetrated but the grip on her arm was no longer just strong—it burned. A fiery pain emanated from where he touched her, and a sudden wave of weakness swept up her arm.
“My arm…”
“I told you it was irritating,” he muttered maliciously, his face transforming to a humble smile as he approached the guards. “Just for you, your honors.”
There were two simultaneous roars. A black shape seemed to fly past her, and it took her increasingly foggy brain a second to recognize Issar. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as she watched him reach one of the guards and bury his claws in the male’s stomach. Varga was no longer on his knees. He had the whip in his hand, and he had it twisted around the other guard’s neck.
Good, she thought slowly.
The burning pain vanished from her arm, and she looked over to see Rummel bring a rock crashing down on Ahona’s head. She thought she should be relieved, but it all seemed so far away. The cavern began to spin around her, and the ground raced up to meet her. Someone caught her just before she hit, but she didn’t have time to wonder who it was before the world went dark.
Chapter Fourteen
Varga cast the dead guard aside and raced for Joan as she toppled to the ground. He knew he would never make it in time, but to his astonishment, Polly reached her first. Polly managed to break Joan’s fall, but both females hit the ground. As soon as he reached them, he snatched Joan into his arms with a grateful word to Polly. He frantically checked Joan for injuries, swearing at the sight of her swollen, blistered arm, the print of Ahona’s hand clearly visible.
He growled, searching for the small male, but his body was only a short distance away, his head smashed beneath a large rock while Rummel scowled down at it.
“Killing was too good for you, you bastard.” Rummel spat on the body, then went to help Polly. She was still sitting on the ground where Joan had fallen, her eyes wide and vacant, but she let Rummel help her to her feet.
Varga agreed with the older male, but he was too focused on Joan to care. “How can I help her?” he asked desperately.
“Get her on the lift,” Issar said grimly as a shout came from the far end of the cavern. “We have to get out of here.”
He hesitated. As much as he hated the Zameetans… “What if they could help her?”
“You would condemn her to return to a life of slavery?” Issar pulled him to his feet as he spoke and urged him towards the lift.
Taliane and Saka were already on the platform, while Rummel and Polly were only a few steps away.
“At least she would be alive. And I would never stop until she was free again.” He let Issar push him along, but he kept turning to look at the guards racing towards them.
“You would if they killed you,” Issar said bluntly. “And you’re already injured.”
“It’s only a scratch,” he said automatically, even though he could feel fiery pain from the wound and knew that blood was dripping down his chest. It had been sheer bad luck that the guard had managed to hit one of his scars—one of the few areas he was vulnerable.
Issar pushed him on the platform, even as he tried to decide what to do. It was difficult to think when his whole being was focused on the small figure in his arms. But before he could change his mind, the platform began to rise.
“She needs help,” he said desperately.
Issar frowned. “Do you have a medical bay on your ship?”
“Just a small automated one.”
“That should still be enough to put her in stasis until you can get her to a real facility.”
He couldn’t respond, terrified that he would lose her. Her body already seemed cooler in his arms, her breathing shallower. He thought she whimpered but when he leaned closer, he saw it was George, crawling his way out of her coverall. The lizard chirped anxiously, then to his horror, began licking the wound.
“No!” he cried, about to knock the small creature away, but Rummel caught his arm.
“Wait a minute.
