My words finally sink in. “Fine.” He pulls out the small piece of tech and holds it over the burnt flesh. It lights up, and the unconscious Draekon convulses as he begins to heal. In less than a knut, the man’s skin has lost its angry red color and has regained its bronze shades.
I take a deep breath, feeling a measure of relief for the first time since I pulled the Firstborn out of Lake Ang. “He’ll sleep through the night,” Dariux says. His eyes glint with anticipation. “And in the morning, we will talk.”
“What do you mean, talk?”
Dariux rolls his eyes. “Do you think I’m going to let them go? Don’t be ridiculous, Zunix. Of course not. Arax is going to help me solve a puzzle, one I’ve been working on for a very long time.”
I grow cold. “You are talking about holding them hostage.”
He doesn’t bother to deny this. “Yes.” His lips thin into a smile. “There were four human women in their camp. Assuming they have all mated, we are evenly matched. They have six more Draekons that can transform. So do we. They won’t risk a direct attack.”
This doesn’t make any sense. Unless… “What do you want?” I ask abruptly. “You think the other exiles have something you need. What?”
“You grew up on the homeworld. You know what the most important thing is. Knowledge, of course. If Arax doesn’t have what I need, then Brunox’s daughter will. One way or the other, I’m going to find what I’m looking for.”
“And what’s that?”
His eyes glimmer with amusement. He’s not going to tell me. “Knowledge is power, my friend. And I don’t share my power with anyone.”
“The others will not stand for this. They will not hold Arax for ransom.”
He holds up the med-kit. “Remember your deal, Zunix,” he warns. “I healed the human woman, and you and Liorax swore an oath. You promised me your support in a manner of my choosing. I call for it now. Do not interfere with what’s going to happen.”
Bast. I remember the terms well. Dariux isn’t threatening to kill the Firstborn. He’s just holding him hostage. I am bound by my word to stand by him.
Dariux is many things, but he’s not a fool. I am willing to wager my syn that he’s received similar promises of support from the other Draekons.
We have no reason to view the other exiles as enemies, but that’s what we’re doing.
This is a dark path we’re going down.
20
Olivia:
Bryce and I are unceremoniously moved from the mansion to Dariux’s treehouse. I don’t protest. The mood in the camp is tense and strained, and everyone’s nerves are on edge.
“What’s going on, do you know?” Bryce asks me once the two of us settle into the small room.
Oh, right. She was away with Dariux. I fill her in on the day’s events, and she whistles silently. “Do you think the other exile batch was going to kidnap us?”
I shake my head. “I think this was all one big misunderstanding. They found that dead guy and everything went to hell.”
“So that’s simple enough to solve, right?” She tilts her head to one side. “Dariux zaps the two Draekons with his med-kit, apologizes for attacking first, and all’s well that ends well.”
Something tells me things aren’t going to be quite that easy.
All evening, I wait for Zunix to knock on the door and tell me what’s going on, but he never shows up. By the time the sun rises the next morning, I’m struggling to contain my curiosity.
And, if I’m being perfectly honest, I’m also a little bit irritated. I told Liorax and Zunix about Felicity’s mates allying themselves with Herrix and Belfox. It’s only fair that they reciprocate by telling me what the hell is going on.
I wait for an hour, but when neither of them arrives to fill me in, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I might have dropped my cover with Liorax and Zunix, but the rest of the Draekons still believe I’m a ditz, and I’m going to take advantage. If I have to whip my top off and jiggle the girls in people’s faces, so be it. Something important is happening, and it is not in my nature to sit on the sidelines and watch the men take charge. Nobody puts Olivia in the corner.
I dress in my lowest-cut top. Bryce whistles admiringly when she sees the girls. “You’re up to no good, aren’t you?” she asks astutely. “Who’s the target?”
“Zunix and Liorax,” I answer grimly.
She laughs. “In that case, I’m not going to feel too sorry for them,” she says. “They can take care of themselves.”
Liorax:
Dariux is a reckless fool, and this time, he’s outdone himself.
At the crack of dawn, Zunix and I thread our way to the house where Dariux is holding the Firstborn and the other Draekon captive. Rezzix and Magnux are outside, standing guard. “Dariux said no visitors,” Rezzix says as soon as he catches sight of the two of us.
I don’t want to fight either man. “He isn’t here,” I point out.
Magnux stares at Zunix. “Your syn has made Paige’s life here comfortable,” he says. “You have my gratitude.” He steps aside. “Bolox and Narix will be here soon to relieve us,” he warns.
“That can’t be helped now,” Zunix says grimly. “We’re too far gone for that.” He gives me a sidelong look as we enter the large living area. “I really hope the Firstborn remembers you,” he mutters under his breath.
“You’re not the only one.” Like Arax, I spent summers in Giflan as a child. The Arax I knew from my childhood was calm and reasoned, but a man can change in exile. Arax had everything on the homeworld. The Draekon mutation would have been a huge shock. Would it have made him bitter, the way it has Dariux?
The two men are in the bedroom of one of the humans, still asleep. “Dariux is keeping them drugged,” Zunix says, his voice thick with disgust. “Until he’s ready to act.”
Of course, Zunix has already anticipated this move. “You have the antidote.”
He pulls two small vials from his pouch. Zunix’s syn does a limited amount of medicine. I take one from him and approach the Firstborn of Zoraht, resisting the instinctive urge to drop to my knees in the presence of the man who was once the second-most powerful person in the High Empire, next to only the High Emperor himself.
I tip the potion between Arax’s lips and wait. Not for long. The drug is a powerful stimulant, and it jerks him awake. The Firstborn of Zoraht coughs, and his eyes fall open. When they rest on me, he frowns in puzzlement. “Liorax? What are you doing here?”
This time, I kneel, as does Zunix. “Firstborn, I was exiled to the prison planet.”
“Yes, of course. I knew that.” He struggles to sit up, waving off my offer of help. “It’s strange to find a familiar face so far away from home.” His gaze sharpens. “Is Nyx okay? He was badly burnt.”
Zunix nods, still kneeling. “Yes, Firstborn. We have a med-kit. He is healed.”
“You have tech?” Arax sounds astonished. “How?” He catches himself. “Never mind, that’s not the most important issue.” He gestures for us to rise, and his eyes narrow. “Six dragons attacked us without provocation. Liorax, I trust you will not lie to me. Raiht’vi told us you abducted the human women. Were they forced into the mating bond?”
“No, of course not, Arax,” I snap, forgetting who I’m addressing for a second. “Don’t be ridiculous. We aren’t savages.”
Zunix’s face goes blank with shock, and he clears his throat, possibly to remind me that the Firstborn of Zoraht isn’t used to being addressed in that tone. To my surprise, Arax seems to relax. “Of course the scientist lied,” he says, shaking his head ruefully. “I should have known. Are they well, the five humans?”
“About as well as can be expected.”
Arax swings to his feet and sways. Zunix is there to steady him. “Who are you?” Arax asks him, his forehead furrowed. “I’ve seen you before, I’m sure, but I can’t remember the details.”
Zunix’s lips twist into a dry smile. “You weren’t supposed to,” he says mildly. “My name is Zunix und Kalox ab Mamarce. I was one of Surax’s assistants.”
Arax raises his eyebrow. “The Spymaster’s assistant was struck by the mutation? Surax seemed to be something less than his usual competent self after Liorax’s batch was exiled. I now understand why.”
“Not just one of us,” Zunix says. “Two of Surax’s three assistants tested positive. Only Ru’vi was left. Which brings us to our current predicament. Dariux, Surax’s other assistant, is threatening to hold you hostage.”
Arax’s eyebrow rises even higher. “Is he?” he says grimly. “Perhaps you better wake Nyx up. He’ll need to hear this too.”
I do as the Firstborn commands, tipping the potion to Nyx’s lips. It takes only a few moments for the other man to sit up. “We’re both still alive,” he says to Arax, his voice weak. The med-kit has done its job, but Nyx will need another day or two of rest before he can fly again. “This is a pleasant surprise.”