Dzar-Ghan (Alien Barbarians of Vandruk #3)

41. Chapter 41

It was hard being depressed with all these smiling, happy faces and people around me. Wherever I went, men and women were hugging and laughing. Still, my misery burned deep in my stomach. I wandered through the Temple streets like a lost ship at sea, avoiding any familiar face I spied. I wasn’t in the mood for light chatter.

Despite that, at some point, Nyhr-Shun got a hold of me and paraded me around several Vandruks, saying, “This is the woman who opened the cave for us. Khadahr Dzar-Ghan’s khadahrshi, Jenna!”

I cringed every time I heard the crowd call out my title and name. I wanted to tell them that I wasn’t the khadahrshi any longer and that this title would return to its rightful owner, but the people were celebrating, and I didn’t want to get in any debates. So I forced a smile on my face and took offered drinks, which they called skoff and were surprisingly potent. It didn’t take long before I was healthily tipsy, and my faked smile became actually more convincing.

Somewhere during all this, I lost Nyhr-Shun and retreated back into obscurity—as obscure as a human could be among all these Vandruks. Many curious glances were thrown at me, especially from the women. Some of the warriors had already seen Gwyn and other human women; those nodded at me like a friend you see cruising through the bar.

Somebody jostled me, and I lost my footing. To keep my balance, my arms windmilled, hitting a Vandruk in the back until I was able to grab onto a statue’s arm. I held on to it for dear life, but the arm broke off by the elbow, and I would have fallen face forward onto the cobblestone ground.

A hand grabbed my shoulder and steadied me. “Whoa, careful there, miss.”

I wasn’t sure what startled me more, the words spoken in English, the not reddish skin on his hand, or seeing a human man standing next to me when I finally turned my head.

His dark, nearly ebony skin shone from a fine sheen of sweat in the light of the fires, but I would have recognized him anywhere, even if he looked five times as powerful and strong as he had in the pictures I had seen of him. “Doctor Matthew Bauer.”

“Matt,” he corrected lightly, his brown eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Wow, I can’t believe it. You are really here.” I gushed. Several years ago, Matthew Bauer had been the last person to travel through the portal. He had been believed dead until Tzar-Than came through the wormhole and informed us that Bauer had been his prisoner for all these years. Teaching him English and whatever else the khadahr had wanted to learn about the humans.

“You find me at quite a disadvantage since I don’t know who you are. You didn’t come with Khadahrshi Gwyn’s group.”

“No, no, I am Doctor McKenzie, a geologist.” It took me a moment to realize that formalities weren’t called for here and I quickly added, “Jenna.”

“A pleasure.” He smiled.

“You are… free?” I asked the stupidest question I could come up with.

“I’ve always been free to go, well, after a while anyway, but I preferred to stay and learn about the Vandruks,” he admitted.

“You look… different.” Wow, Jenna, you’re really gaining awkward points today .

He grinned. “I picked up a few Vandruk traditions as well. One of them is learning to fight.”

“Well, it shows.” My face turned red. Shit, what the fuck am I doing? I blamed it on the skoff. To distract from my multiple faux passes, I hastily asked, “Are you looking for Tzar-Than?”

“More for Gwyn. She asked me to do something for her, and I wanted to show her the finished product.” He held up a small booklet, neatly bound with leather string on paper that resembled expensive, old-fashioned stationary.

“There you are.” Gwyn appeared from out of nowhere as if the mention of her name had conjured her up. Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice , my mind repeated, and I giggled. That skoff was really getting to my head.

“Oh, hi, Matt,” she greeted him.

“Khadahrshi Gwyn.” He bowed, and they both grinned at each other, making it clear this was an old joke running between them.

“And I see you’ve met Khadahrshi Jenna.”

“Khadahrshi?” Matt’s eyebrows arched.

“Maybe, maybe not. The jury’s still out there.” Why was I suddenly slurring? Why was I telling them that?

“Oh, Jenna, it’ll be okay.” Gwyn took my arm. “Trust me.”

“Hmm, I wish I could.” I turned my head, looking. “Does anybody have more skoff? That stuff is amazing.”

“Yeah, I know,” Gwyn mumbled. “It also likes to sneak up on you.”

Matt laughed loudly. “That’s the worst part. You drink and drink, and then it hits you all of a sudden like a hammer.”

“I don’t feel so good,” I lamented, turning from Jenna just in time to throw up into a corner. “Shit.”

“Here.” Matt handed me a piece of cloth and a bottle of water. Not questioning where he got it from, I rinsed out my mouth with the water and dabbed my chin and lips with the clothes.

“Thank you,” I said, a bit sheepish. I had never been drunk in my life. Not once. I had always hated how the alcohol dulled your senses and made you do and say stupid things. Case in point.

“I only had a few sips,” I complained.

“That’s all it takes if you’re not used to it,” Matt said. “It’s all in here.” He waved the booklet.

“Oh my God, you finished it,” Gwyn exclaimed.

“Just as your royal highness demanded.” He winked.

She hit him lightly on the arm. “Whatever, Professor.”

Dizziness overcame me, and I swayed.

“All right, let’s get you to your tent.”

“Hmm.” I pressed my lips together. The thought of a bed sounded good. It would soothe the spinning world around me. On the other hand, it would be lonely and remind me that I wasn’t supposed to be there anymore. This place would belong to someone else now.

A wave of sadness swept over me. I didn’t want to lose Dzar-Ghan; I really didn’t. Then fight for him, you stupid Nilly , my heart found its balls and yelled at me.

“Fight for him,” I mumbled.

“What’s that?” Gwyn asked.

“Hmm, nothing. Got to find Dzar-Ghan.”

“He’s still in a meeting with the other khadahrs,” Gwyn informed me.

Oh, goodie, I knew where that was.

I noticed Gwyn raising her hand as if to try to hold me back, but Matt caught it and shook his head. I was aware that they were following me, but I ignored them. Damn it, I would fight for Dzar-Ghan. I wouldn’t just let him replace me like that, even if the other woman had more of a right to him than I did. I deserved some happiness, too.

“Khadahrshi Jenna,” someone called, holding out an unmistakable skin of skoff. I made a grab for it.

“Damn right, I am,” I muttered.

Gwyn took the offered flask before I could grab it. “I think we had enough, thank you.” She smiled at the warrior.

I would have stayed to argue, but my urge to find Dzar-Ghan was stronger. I marched on without another glance back. At the Temple steps, I faltered in my conviction. Those were a lot of steps.

“Come, let’s take you to your tent,” Gwyn enticed.

The word tent was just the encouragement I needed. I would not lie down inside that tent on top of those furs again all by myself. I would not.

I wasn’t so sure anymore what I was trying to accomplish, but the need to see Dzar-Ghan grew, and I made it up the stairs without falling back down. I stumbled a few times, but both times, Gwyn and Matt were there to catch me.

“Are you sure about this?” Gwyn asked.

“What did Tzar-Than say to you?” I asked, turning to her so quickly the Temple spun around me.

“What do you mean?”

“About his… his first… whoever he was going to mate before the cave collapsed, what happened to her? Does he want her back?”

Somewhere inside my brain I knew I was being rude. Rude and thoughtless and reckless. But I had to know.

“Oh.” Gwyn seemed to understand. “Illug. She was mated to another male. We’ll travel there after… this is over to make sure she’s all right.”

“But does he want her back?” I asked with the diplomatic skill of the proverbial elephant in the china shop.

She shook her head. “No, it’s not like that. But he feels responsible and needs to make sure she is well.”

“I’m sorry.” I managed.

“Don’t be. It’s all right.” Gwyn pressed my arm. “I understand. I felt threatened at first, too… I get it. And Illug isn’t here, but…” she trailed off, not as unashamed to hurt other people’s feelings like me.

“Not like Mynarra, who is here.” I finished.

She nodded and looked down. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said and moved on to get inside.

Guards stood by the entrance, but they must not have thought me a threat and let me pass. Torches and candles burned everywhere, lighting up the Temple beautifully. Had I not been so… tipsy—I wasn’t drunk, I was tipsy—I would have stopped to admire the carvings in the walls, the high, polished columns that gleamed in the firelight. I was on a mission, though, and the sound of male voices speaking Vandruk led the way for me.

There must have been at least twenty khadahrs assembled around the large table. Some stood, some leaned against the walls, but they all wore the same angry expressions on their faces, arguing loudly. I should have stopped, I should have stopped right there, but my feet kept moving me forward until I saw Dzar-Ghan sitting at the table. He was leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest. Even in my tipsy mind, I noticed how tired and worn he was.

Any chance of backing off, though, left when the khadahrs noticed me, and one by one, they fell silent, staring me down.

Dzar-Ghan’s gaze found mine. His internal struggle evident on his face; he was torn between the past and the future. A sob escaped me. This was harder than I thought it would be.