Dzar-Ghan (Alien Barbarians of Vandruk #3)

30. Chapter 30

“Khadahr! You made it.” Grehn-Bzag greeted me, coming down the mountain. He must have seen us from the plateau.

“I’m not sure if I should feel insulted that you thought I wouldn’t.” I grinned.

“Khadahr, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” He flustered. I took pity on him and slapped him on the shoulder.

“No worries, just joking.”

He stared at me as if I had grown horns, making me realize who I was talking to. Damn, that gallis had been stealing my edge.

To distract from the awkward moment, I asked, “Everyone make it all right?”

“Sa, Khadahr, Dragh-Whar broke a toe.” We both enjoyed a chuckle at that statement—if anybody was clumsier than my Jenna, it was Dragh-Whar—before he continued, “Some cuts and bruises on everyone, nothing serious.”

“The gallis is all right too?” He sent a glance in Jenna’s direction, and I felt a stirring in my stomach that was unexpected and new. I knew that Grehn-Bzag was only being friendly, but… Jenna was MINE.

“She’s fine,” I assured him, to which he gave me another look that was telling me he thought someone else had taken over my body. I cursed Jenna silently for the second time in a short span.

We reached the caved-in entrance, but the pain that usually accompanied me being this close wasn’t as debilitating as before. I still felt sad for the loss of my loved ones, but it wasn’t all-consuming.

“The cave is… behind that?” Jenna asked, her eyes moving up and down the massive rockslide.

“Sa.” My voice sounded hoarse, and I broke off, not trusting myself to say any more, especially when she inadvertently picked up the rock bearing Mynarra’s name. Of all the rocks to choose from, it had to be this one?

Jenna stared at the engraving. Her fingers slipped over the letters. “Are these names?”

“Sa.” Again, I wasn’t able to elaborate much more.

“Your Vandruk is getting good,” Grehn-Bzag praised, and I shot him a dark glare.

“Thank you. Khadahr Dzar-Ghan is a horrendous teacher,” she replied innocently enough. Grehn-Bzag still broke out into a loud laugh.

“What?” Jenna turned from me to him.

I told her that she had mistaken horrendous with excellent or good, whatever she had meant to use. She giggled. “Well…”

I chuckled too, at first just a bit, then more, until I doubled over. It wasn’t so much what she had said or meant, but in that moment, for the first time in ten years, I felt free, happy even.

Gently, Jenna replaced the rock, and the simple gesture sobered Grehn-Bzag and me. Dragh-Whar and the others returned from a hunt, greeting us happily while I watched Dragh-Whar limp about.

“What happened to your toe?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah, Dragh-Whar, tell the Khadahr how you broke your toe,” Grehn-Bzag encouraged, followed by snickers from the other warriors.

“It wasn’t that funny,” Dragh-Whar’s discomfort was palpable.

“He jumped into a lake without checking the depths first or looking out for… what didn’t you look out for, Dragh-Whar?”

“A tree stump,” Dragh-Whar confessed, resigned.

“You broke your toe on a tree stump?” I asked, feeling more laughter bubble up. That sounded exactly like something Jenna would do… where was Jenna?

Alarmed, I turned in a semi-circle, and halfway through, I caught a glimpse of her crawling up the rockslide.

Of all the idiotic things for her to do. That gallis couldn’t even walk straight on even ground. “Jenna!” I called, worried.

“I’m fine,” she yelled back, and I placed myself at the bottom of the slide. Sweat poured down my neck and face as all the scenarios of how she could slip and slide moved through my head. A broken toe would be the least of her worries.

“Damn, that gallis is agile as a mountain drycken,” Dragh-Whar commented.

“You should watch and learn,” one of the other warriors teased.

“Jenna, come down,” I yelled in English because I already sensed she wouldn’t listen to me, and I didn’t want my warriors to witness her defiance.

She was more than halfway up the damn mountain now. “Watch her,” I barked at Dragh-Whar, while I moved to the right, where a narrow path wound its way all the way to the top.

Dragh-Whar had been right, though. Jenna was showing more agility than ever before as if she were in her element on slippery rocks. She was an enigma, and I wondered if I would ever figure her out. That thought spread warmth through me. I would very much love to spend the rest of my life doing just that.

Jenna reached the top, and my heart dropped for just a moment when a few rocks spilled down, but then I realized she had done this on purpose as she scrutinized how the rocks moved down, taking more with them.

She stood now on another ledge that was about the length of three males standing on top of each other long. Above her was more mountain, reaching up so high it was obscured by clouds. Jenna craned her neck, staring up. Almost like giant steps, one ledge protruded after another, with two larger gaps in them that had protruded like tongues a long time ago. Those must have been what had broken off. Crashing on each step below to shatter into uncountable pieces. There were more protrusions and indentions higher up, some that looked a lot more fragile than the ones that had broken, but Vorag’s will was mysterious.

I swallowed hard at the idea that another piece could break off now and bury my Jenna. I nearly called her name again in panic, but then I reminded myself that this was the reason she was here. She hadn’t come with the other gallies to mate one of us. She came to work on the cave as per my request. That Vorag had seen fit to throw a little wedge into my plans was ironic but fitting for our god. I had to trust him and her. No matter how hard it was.

Still, it didn’t mean she had to stand there alone. I walked over the rocks and realized how treacherous they were; rolling underneath my feet it was hard to maintain my balance, making me admire a whole new side of Jenna.

She was on her knees now, moving rocks with her bare hands. The sight was so achingly familiar that it tore at my heart. Once again, I saw the hard hands of the mightiest khadahrs and warriors who had ever lived, moving rocks with their raw and bleeding hands for days and days to no avail.

“What are you doing?” My voice sounded harsher than I intended.

She looked up and pointed underneath her. “The cave, under us?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“How many rocks?” She pointed at all the rocks under us, and I shrugged.

“They kept coming and coming. For every rock we moved down there”—I pointed where the warriors stood, looking up at us—“ten more came down.”

She nodded as if she had expected that answer but kept digging a hole through the debris. She threw one rock a little bit too hard, and it slid over the edge. On its way down, more followed. My warriors jumped out of the way, but Dragh-Whar wasn’t quick enough. By his curses, I was sure a few rocks had landed on his already injured toe.

“Step back,” I yelled, a little too late. I should have seen this coming.

“Let me help.” I kneeled beside her. Her fingers were already bleeding. I pulled them away from the rocks and kissed their tips. “Jenna. Let me do this.”

She smiled heartbreakingly. “I’m good. This is what I do.”

The gleam in her eyes was genuine. It was pure happiness. Happiness I didn’t want to take from her. Still, I hated that she was getting hurt.

At some point, I didn’t know how much later, the smell of cooking meat drifted up to us, and Jenna’s stomach growled loudly.

“Enough,” I commanded. “Let’s eat.”

I followed her glance down the hole we had dug. It was as long as my arm, and we had to extend the circumference because I couldn’t reach any lower. And still, there were so many more rocks to be moved before we would reach the ceiling of the cave below us.

“We’ve tried this already, Jenna. Besides, you’ll just get to the ceiling of the cave, and it’s thick.” I tried to reason with her.

Her pretty brows drew together, creasing her skin, making me want to kiss all the dust on her face off her.

“I have to think,” she said, nodding.

Anything that would get us off this cursed plateau, I agreed with. When she was about to climb back the same way she came, I took her elbow and showed her the little side path.

“Oh!”

On our way down, she stopped many times, inspecting the wall next to us, behind which the tomb of my loved ones waited to be opened.

Her hands glided over the walls, and she pulled out smaller rocks as if expecting to get a small peak inside.

“The walls are thick,” I told her.

“Hmm, hmm,” she agreed, turning so suddenly she nearly lost her footing, and I barely managed to grab her by her shoulder.

I only breathed freely when we reached the plateau level, but even here, even as wide and deep as it was, one wrong step could send Jenna spiraling down hundreds of paces. She made a beeline for the backpacks. My gaze followed her, and my feet would have next, but Grehn-Bzag intercepted me. “What were you doing up there?”

“I think she’s trying to find the cave’s original ceiling,” I filled my Second Blade in.

“Why? We can’t break through?” he stated, and I shrugged.

Jenna returned to my side with two strange-looking brown packages. “What is that?”

“C-4,” she replied, but I had no idea what that meant. What she unwrapped, though, looked like the kind of clay we used at home to make dishes and pitchers. “It will blast a hole into the wall.”

I still stared at her uncomprehendingly. She threw her arms up in the air. “Boom.”

My eyebrows arched up.