That she’d goaded him into stepping toward her only made it better. Rae stepped back, intent on landing her foot askew so that she could wobble and fall, bracing to tuck and roll with the her chosen path down the steep slope.
Instead, her foot sank into empty space and she pitched faster than she’d wanted to.
Garr shouted. The world spun end-over-end. Soft leaf padding thumped into her shoulders, and after a few rolls, Rae lost track of the angle of her descent. Would she strike a tree trunk? Her whole body braced for impact.
The ground fell out from under her entirely. Her stomach leapt into her throat and she plunged twenty feet, hitting a soft, wet pool of sticky mud.
Groaning, Rae propped herself up on her elbows, body half swallowed by the dark ooze that cushioned her landing. When the forest stopped spinning, she noticed two green pods the size of pumpkins growing from the mudhole. They were shaped like cabbages, though paler, and much larger.
Both cabbages bent toward her and their leaves flared open like the night blossom, except…
Those aren’t flowers. Inside each cabbage were eight serrated, curved knife blades evenly ringed around the plant’s center, as though protecting the pistil.
From the razor gleam, she could tell the Skorvag had generated plants with metallic components. Apparently I’ve found Lyr’s claws. Just how would a wild domé react to her going suddenly off the recommended path?
Garr dropped into the mud hole beside her, sinking shin deep into the muck beside her. He snatched Rae’s shoulder and dragged her upright, pressing her chest-first into the earthen wall.
His body encompassed her totally, and she heard a distinct puff noise from the plants. She guessed the alien cabbages had pressurized tubes and were firing murderous knives at them both.
Instead of skewering her, they rang off Garr’s otoya. He must have armored himself with it. However, at least twice, she heard a distinct wet thunk that suggested they’d found a gap in his defenses. He shuddered against her.
For a few long moments after the puffing stopped, Garr held tightly onto her. Then he slumped away and buckled to his knees. Rae turned and held her hand over her mouth at the sight of two gleaming knives embedded in Garr’s right shoulder blade. His violet blood ran in tiny streams down his back and dripped into the mud.
Above them, Vaya crashed through brush, headed for their location.
“This,” Garr growled at her, “is why you do what I say.”
“Noted.” She looked from him to the spent cabbages. Lyr certainly has trust issues. Swallowing, she scanned beyond the muddy pit, noticing the bladed foliage only seemed to grow in the muck. Vaya would be here momentarily, and Garr’s injury would distract her. With Garr too wounded to give chase, this was her only shot.
But a glance to his nasty shoulder wounds gave her pause. She felt a swell of pity for how he’d accrued them. Her logical mind, though, broke in with the obvious: He wouldn’t be wounded if he hadn’t kidnapped you. This is no time for Stockholm Syndrome. You’ve got a home on the other side of the galaxy. Run!
She lurched from the mud, hit solid ground, and took off at a sprint.
“Stop!” hollered Garr.
Not for anything. She ducked beneath vines, wove out of sight, and veered sharply another direction. The change in trajectory would make it harder for them to catch up.
She put on as much speed as she dared in the treacherous, shadowy pathways, which were filled with unfamiliar and maze-like flora. She needed at least a hundred yards if she wanted time to petition the wild domé who just tried to murder her.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” she panted. “I get it. You’re sentient, maybe a little overprotective. And I’m sorry I can’t do that ritual crap to ‘talk’ to you. I’m an alien here. Cut me some slack.”
Huffing, she leaped over some roots. “That’s my point. I don’t belong here, Lyr. Don’t know why Kaython brought me here, but the portals are your thing.”
Rae stopped running when she hit a thick tapestry of hanging vines that blocked her way. She knew them from earlier in the day—there were millions of microscopic saw teeth hidden in each vine. Get wrapped up in those, and they’d slowly cut her to ribbons.
“No Ythirian lives inside you,” she called into the forest. “You’re wild. I know what it’s like to want freedom, to need distance. I’m not cut out for being some prime’s taliyar. I don’t want it. Please, Lyr. Send me home.”
The forest was silent. Even more silent than Rae had expected—no chirps or chitters, no buzzing insects. She couldn’t hear Vaya in the distance and the only noise was Rae’s thumping heart.