Orc’s Forbidden Claim (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss #33)

13. Saylor

13

SAYLOR

I am so tired. Every step is an effort. A battle between necessity and exhaustion. All I want is to drop, lie down, close my eyes, and sleep until this nightmare is over. I stumble and one of our captors shoves me with his large hand in the middle of my back.

“Ah!” I cry out.

The shove sends me pinwheeling forward and if not for one of the Urr’ki, I'd have ended up flat in my face. I look up at the one who caught me and recognize him as one of the ones who disagreed earlier.

He has a grip on my shoulder, holding me upright like a child's discarded doll. Our eyes meet and he grimaces then lifts me and sets me back onto my feet.

“Thank you,” I say.

He opens his mouth but then his eyes dart around and he seems to realize that the others are watching. Instead of speaking he grunts and makes a sharp motion with his hand for me to march.

I do as commanded, not because I want to, but to avoid him or me attracting more attention. All my hopes had lain with Khiara, but I am seeing a new sliver of hope. Three of our captors are not all in with what they are doing. I have no idea how to use it, but it's something.

The grinding march continues. My exhaustion builds until it feels like I'm falling into weird micro naps. I close my eyes for what I think is a second but when I open them everything around me is different.

After one such lost moment when I open my eyes, we're stopped. I look around in confusion until I see Wren is on the ground. Something is wrong.

I blink rapidly trying to fill in the missing blanks. The Urr’ki encircle her, grunting and growling at each other in their guttural language. When one of them raises his foot, clearly intending to kick her, I run forward to stop him.

Before I get close, the one who kept me up earlier blocks the aggressor's foot with a side kick. He hits him so hard that he spins and then loses his balance. He yelps as he falls backward and slams against the stone wall of the tunnel.

He comes off the wall in a rage. Hands balled into fists he growls as he throws himself at the other Urr’ki. They go to the ground in a tangle. Fists fly as they fight with each other. I take the opportunity to get to Wren.

I drop to my knees as I approach and slide to a stop at her side. I grab her face between my hands and turn her head towards me. The moment I do, her eyes partially open then fully when she sees it's me. A small smile plays across her face.

Our captors are busy, apparently choosing sides over the fight happening a few feet away giving us a rare opportunity to talk without risking a beat down ourselves.

“Got them,” she whispers, her smile broadening.

“You scared me half to death,” I hiss. “I thought you were hurt.”

“I wanted to slow them down,” she says.

I stare at her in a stupor of disbelief. I'm so tired that it feels like I'm thinking in slow motion. Numb, I help her to a sitting position.

The battling captors are rolling towards us, so I grab onto Wren and pull her clear. The two of us scoot on our butts across the rough stone floor.

The deep growling grunts continue. I can't tell which of them is which despite the fact they are close to us. They wrestle and struggle, landing the occasional blow, while the rest of the group watches and shouts. They appear to be placing bets on which one will win.

Moving together, Wren and I partly scoot, and partly crawl still further to get away from the writhing bodies. The tunnel isn’t wide. Two Urr’ki abreast is the most it can handle and it’s dark. They carry only two lanterns for the entire group and both of those have shields so the light only shines a small distance in one direction.

The gloomy shadows enclose around us. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. The not knowing if there is something worse out here in the dark. We've been underground long enough to know that there are even worse things than the Urr’ki. Dark, monstrous things that have only one objective in mind. Eating.

One of the Urr’ki manages to rise while on top of the other. It’s too dark for me to make out if it’s the one who was saving Wren or not but whichever it is cocks his fist and slams it down. A crunching sound makes my stomach clench tight and the one on the ground quits struggling.

The victor stands, weaving on his feet. There is a round of cheers counterpointed by curses from those who bet against the winner. I cling to Wren, waiting to see if the one who helped us is the winner or not. If not, we could be in for a beating.

Survive. All we have to do is stay alive. Khiara is coming. Sek’su will too. I’m sure of it. We can take a beating. It will be okay.

No matter how I try to psych myself up and believe it will be okay, I don’t want to. Cold sweat coats my skin, my stomach feels like a million butterflies are dancing, and it’s all I can do to not throw up. Wren has her arms around me and I have mine around her. The winner turns a circle, grunting. There is no doubt he is looking for us but it’s not like there is anywhere to go. The only choice that I’ve seen was the fork we passed some ways back. This tunnel only goes forward or back and all the Urr’ki are back so that’s not an option.

He steps in front of the dim light from the lantern that is resting on the floor. It casts his shadow long and dark over the two of us but also prevents me from seeing who it is. I’m trembling as he approaches. I’m trying to be brave. I’m thinking brave thoughts, but my body has its own ideas.

Fear is a natural response, isn’t it? I mean, who wants to get beaten? And if they do, maybe they have deeper issues. Wren tightens her grip and then I realize she’s trembling too. It’s oddly comforting to know she is scared too. She is the Ice Queen, which somehow makes my trembling fear okay.

The hulking shadow crouches in front of us and leans in. As he does, he moves far enough out of the light that it shines past him and illuminates his face. It’s the one who was helping. I snort. I don’t mean to, but it slips out as the relief floods through my body.

The instant I do, Wren laughs. My stupid snorting has always made her laugh. I hate it, but right now I’m too relieved to care. I’m just glad it’s not the one who was going to kick Wren. The Urr’ki leans close, looking at both of us with searching eyes. I don’t know what it is he’s searching for, but it doesn’t feel invasive or mean. Not like the other guys’ eyes.

“Okay you?” he asks.

I blink at his strange phrasing which takes me a moment to parse out before I can answer.

“Yes,” Wren says. “You?”

He grunts, and shakes his head, and when he does drops of blood speckle my face. I gasp trying to brush them away without thinking that through. All I manage to do is smear them over my face. God, I must look like a horrid mess.

“Is he… dead?” I ask, pointing past him to the still form on the floor.

He looks over his shoulder and then back.

“No,” he says, shrugging.

“Oh,” I say, part of me wishing he was dead and the other part of me arguing that I’m not a killer and how could I think such an evil thought.

“Move,” he orders, standing up and walking away.

I look at Wren but there is nothing we can do. Exhaustion creeps in behind the receding adrenaline. My muscles quiver as I force myself back to upright. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so heavy in all my life.

“How much longer?” Wren asks.

“Shut,” one of them barks.

The one closer, the one who fought for us, comes over.

“Tired?” he asks.

Wren and I nod as one, almost as if we’re like those old Earth bobblehead toys I’ve seen in vids. Our heads bounce up and down as if they’re on a spring. He turns and walks away, barking at the others.

They huddle up and argue. A lot. While they do the one who was knocked out stirs. He groans loudly, grunts, turns his head, and spits blood then pushes up to his hands and knees. He growls and then explodes to an upright position. He looks ready to fight again.

The other Urr’ki watch with wary expressions as if they too are unsure what to expect from him. He rolls his shoulders, swings his arms, then walks over to the one who beat him. He thrusts his arm out so fast and sharply I think he’s going to punch our savior, but he doesn’t. Only holds the arm out and waits. Our savior stares at it for a long moment then clasps it and they shake.

The arguing continues a moment longer then they come to some kind of a consensus. The savior walks over and looks at us, his eyes moving up and down with cold evaluation.

“Rest,” he says, then turns his back and barks orders.

The other Urr’ki set to work doing whatever it was he ordered them to be about. Wren and I, with our backs against the wall, sink to the ground and lean on each other. I’m half asleep the moment my butt hits the floor. Before I drift all the way off, I have to wonder at what the Urr’ki are doing. It doesn’t look good for anyone following us. Their reputation for setting traps that can maim or kill a Zmaj is well-known and I fear that what I’m seeing may be deadly for those coming in pursuit.

Be careful Khiara. You’re the secret weapon. You know your people, be alert. And hurry. Please, please hurry.