The warriors study us for a long moment and then murmur amongst themselves.
“Hand over your weapons,” they say, and Jozet snorts.
“We have been tasked with protecting these females,” he says.
One of the other warriors bares his teeth. “You imply that we would hurt females?”
This is going well.
Vivian stretches, the movement drawing the attention of every male eye as it highlights her impressive breasts and tiny waist.
“I’d love to get off this mishua,” she purrs. “Surely you don’t expect our protectors to leave us completely defenseless, do you?”
I somehow manage to keep from smiling. In the past few hours, I’ve learned that Vivian is many things, but defenseless will never be one of them. Beneath the gorgeous face is a quick mind and a ruthless commitment to doing whatever needs to be done.
Before today, I wouldn’t have chosen Vivian if I needed someone at my back. Even I was guilty of judging her by her appearance.
The warriors hesitate and then glance at me. I give them what I hope is a flirtatious smile, but I’m well aware that I’ll never have one ounce of Vivian’s sexual self-assurance.
“Fine,” the first warrior says gruffly. They turn to walk away, and Jozet looks at Vivian and snorts.
“Do you have something you’d like to say?” she asks sweetly.
He shakes his head, and we clomp toward the camp.
I nibble at my lip until we enter the camp gates. One of the warriors points at a mishua pen, and we dismount, handing the mishua over to a group of warriors who take them from us.
“Wait,” I say. “Can I have that bag?”
Jozet hands it to me, and then we trail after the warriors who met us at the camp entrance.
It’s clear that this camp is much more temporary than the camp we just came from. While Rakiz and Nevada share a tashiv—a hut also used for meetings—there’s no such structure here. And while the kradis in Rakiz’s camp are aligned in neat rows, the kradis here have been placed seemingly without rhyme or reason, so we’re forced to dodge around them as we follow the warriors.
These Braxians are wearing knee-length loincloths, each with a long split up the side, and little else. They look dangerous, mean, and unfriendly as we walk through their camp with Jozet and Duvix.
They take us to a large communal area. Tribe members are sitting on rocks around a firepit, which, thanks to the current warm temperature, is unlit. The tribe members are facing a huge boulder, which has been hollowed out in a vague approximation of a throne.
There are absolutely no women here, I realize. We passed a few of them on the way through the camp, their eyes wide and curious, but this gathering is obviously some kind of men’s club.
Awesome.
A Braxian lounges on the throne. His face is hard, and his nose has obviously been broken once or twice. He’s the first Braxian I’ve ever seen with a full beard, and I can’t help but stare. I’m guessing this is Khax.
“Strange females,” he booms. “Where do you come from?”
Vivian steps forward and explains just how we got here and why we need his help. I keep my eyes on Khax, and I’m relieved to see a hint of interest on his face as she tells him about our situation.
He shifts on his throne. “And you are hoping to benefit from our reputation in battle.”
I blink at that. Truthfully, Nevada said they were vicious savages and it would be great to get them on our side. She said nothing about the tribe’s reputation.
Vivian doesn’t miss a beat. “That’s right,” she says, giving him a sweet smile.
He snorts, but he stares at us consideringly for a long moment. “We are not the type to ally with tribes like Rakiz’s,” he says finally. “In fact, we have never sought any type of alliance with the Braxian tribes on this part of Agron.”
I clear my throat. “And have you benefited from this insular approach? Or do you think it’s possible that allying with Rakiz’s tribe could lead to opportunities for your tribe?”
He scowls at that. “We have everything we need.”
His jaw is hard, and I glance around, finding his warriors leering at us. Vivian sighs but glances at me with a shrug. She’s all out of ideas.
I hesitate, but I have one last card to play. I lift up my cloth sack, and he raises his eyebrow at me as I approach him. It breaks my heart to hold out the bundle, and my hand shakes. One of his guards steps forward, but Khax holds up his hand and reaches for it.
In spite of my devastation, I have to smile as he looks inside and his mouth drops open. He meets my eyes, and I force myself to speak around the lump in my throat.
“A gesture of good faith,” I say. “We would love to have your support.”
He pulls out one of Dragix’s scales, and I clasp my hands together so I won’t reach for it and snatch it away from him. It glimmers, a gorgeous aqua in the sunlight, but the next one he pulls out could be a deep forest green or a midnight blue.
Tribe members are murmuring at the sight of the scale.
“I would be interested to know how you came to have these in your possession,” Khax says.
I give him a bland smile. “That is a story for another day.” He stares at me, and I keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t get that piece of me.
Finally, he gives us a slow nod. I don’t know what that nod means, but I force myself to turn, and we file out of the clearing.
I clamp my mouth shut as we make our way back to the mishua, Jozet and Duvix a threatening presence by our sides.
Vivian nudges me. “Are you sure about giving up those scales?”
“Yes.” No. She gives me a look, and I sigh. “It’s done now. Plus, Rakiz said this tribe is known for their
