Galactic Gladiators Box Set 2, page 20
“You could’ve left some for us,” Thorin grumbled.
Saff grinned at her friends. She felt too good with all this energy crackling through her veins. She felt alive and in charge.
This was what she loved about the arena. Here, on the sand, she was a champion, and her old life was just dust beneath her feet.
She glanced over at Blaine, but he was staring down at the closest Thraxian, lying prone on the sand. Blaine crouched beside the alien. “Where are the women?”
The alien looked up and made a gurgling sound.
Blaine reached out and hit the alien hard with his fist. “Where are they?”
The rival gladiator tossed his head back and started laughing—an ugly, wet sound.
Blaine hit him again, and again.
Saff saw the feral intensity on Blaine’s face. All control was gone and there was a wildness in his features that was borne in the nightmares of the fight rings.
Raiden stepped forward, reaching out to grab Blaine’s shoulder. But the human turned around, and bared his teeth at the gladiator.
“Wait!” Saff knelt beside Blaine. “Blaine?”
“I need to find them,” he ground out. He raised his fist again.
“Don’t kill him.” Saff leaned in closer. “You can’t kill him here. It isn’t the way of the arena…and you’ve left the fight rings behind, remember?”
Blaine’s fist stayed there, suspended in midair.
“Let me talk to him.” Saff curled her hand around Blaine’s and gently pushed it down. Then she looked down at the beaten Thraxian.
He relaxed and sneered at her. She whipped her hand out and grabbed the alien’s chin. She jerked his head up, reaching out with her senses.
Oh, he was afraid. Of Blaine. “I’ll let him loose on you.” She kept her voice low. “After the drugs, the fighting, the torture, everything he’s been through…you’ll deserve what he does to you.”
The Thraxian turned his head and spat orange blood onto the sand. “Drak you.”
Blaine burst forward with an inhuman growl, slamming his fist into the side of the alien’s head.
Now Saff saw the alien’s eyes widen just a fraction. She gripped his chin harder. “Tell us where the women are.”
“Is he your guard dog?” the Thraxian spat.
She jerked his head at an unnatural angle. The alien let out a pained yelp. “I don’t need him in order to hurt you.” She leaned closer. “He’s just more motivated than me. But not by much.”
Blaine made another sound, and pressed a knee to the Thraxian’s chest, putting enough pressure on him to make the alien wheeze.
“The women?” Saff asked again.
“Not here,” the Thraxian croaked out. “We don’t have them.”
Blaine made another terrifying sound and leaned forward. The Thraxian’s eyes turned panicked.
“Where?” Blaine roared.
“The Srinar have them. The Srinar took them.” The man’s orange gaze turned wild. “I don’t know all the information. They…they were taken to the desert. They were going to cross the Barren Sands.”
Crudspawn. Saff cursed. “How?” The Barren Sands were an unforgiving place.
“The…Corsair Caravan, I think.”
She kicked the Thraxian away. Blaine stood beside her, his chest heaving. She felt so much emotion radiating off him, and wasn’t sure he even knew where he was. She turned to him, pressing her hands against his sweat-slicked skin.
“Blaine?” No response. She smoothed her hands over his chest. “Come back to me, Earth man.”
He leaned closer to her, burying his face into her braids. She heard him breathe deep, and knew he was trying to scent her. It was probably for the best he couldn’t smell, since she was covered in sweat and blood.
She stroked his arm, her fingers tracing the interesting tattoos on his strong bicep. “We’ll get them back, Blaine. That’s a promise.”
Brown eyes locked with hers. Deep within them, she saw that he wanted to believe, but he’d had his hopes beaten and broken before.
Her hand tightened on him. “I always keep my promises.”
Blaine followed the other gladiators through the back streets of Kor Magna. The suns were rising, and he felt the prickle of heat on the back of his neck. His sword was safe at his side, and inside, the need to find the women was like a drumbeat.
They had to find them before they were sold off, or hurt, or worse.
He glanced up and saw Saff was watching him steadily.
“So this caravan is well known?” he asked.
She nodded. “It’s used by anyone traveling out of Kor Magna and into the desert.” She glanced toward the horizon. “It’s dangerous out there. The Corsair Caravan is well armed, and well stocked. They offer good protection, and they know the water sources through the desert.”
“Where do they go?” Blaine had gotten the impression that there wasn’t much on Carthago, outside of Kor Magna.
“There are a couple of desert trading posts.” Saff grimaced. “They’re pretty rough and lawless. There are also some forts in the desert that are home to the desert warlords.”
Lore leaned forward. “And the legendary Zaabha.”
Blaine drew his brows together. “What?”
Saff snorted and shook her head. “Drinking tales.”
“There have long been rumors of a vicious, wild arena somewhere in the desert,” Lore said, his voice taking on a storytelling tone. “A place of myth and legend.”
Blaine knew how bad the underground fight rings had been, right here beneath the city. How bad would an arena be out in the desert? Where even the thin veneer of civilization gave way to nothing?
“We’re here,” Galen said.
Ahead, the imperator moved under a huge arch of cream stone. Inside was a stone courtyard, ringed by stables. All kinds of alien beasts were poking their heads out over wooden doors, watching them with curiosity.
A man stepped forward to talk to Galen. He was huge, with bulging muscles and legs like tree trunks, but his posture was stooped, and he had a significant limp. If Blaine had to guess, he’d say the man was a former gladiator.
“Galen!” The man clapped a hand on Galen’s back. “Welcome, old friend.”
“Hello, Varus,” Galen answered with a faint smile. “How are you?”
“Good. Good. Being a stable master is a lucrative trade.” The older man’s eyes clouded for a second. “Not as good as the arena, of course, but good. I have some excellent animals for you.”
“Appreciate it.”
“I saw that the House of Galen is fighting the House of Rone tonight.” The older man’s gaze swept over them all. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for the fight?”
“I’m hoping we’ll be back in time, with our missing friends. Otherwise, my second team will fight.”
Varus huffed. “People pay to see Raiden and his team, my friend.”
“Still taking in lost kids?”
Varus grinned at Galen’s blatant change of subject. “Yes. And I hear the House of Galen is now giving sanctuary to beautiful women.”
Galen grunted.
As Varus laughed, he waved his hand at some nearby stableboys. “I have what you requested.” Several young boys hurried forward, leading out some massive beasts.
Blaine blinked. The creatures were huge, each with six legs, and powerful bodies covered in a scale-pattern. They ranged in color from deepest black to dark green. One shook its head, and he noticed a small mane down its long neck. It was like a horse and a giant lizard had mated and had a child.
“We’re going to ride those?” Blaine asked.
Saff gripped the reins of the lead animal and swung onto the beast in a graceful, athletic move. She patted the side of the animal’s neck, murmuring something. She looked at Blaine. “Problem?”
Blaine had always distrusted horses. He’d always found them big and skittish. These creatures made horses look like poodles.
“Afraid?” Saff asked with a smile.
He sucked in a breath and stomped over to another of the beasts. “No.”
As her animal shifted and snorted, Saff patted its neck again. “These are tarnids. Excellent for traveling through the desert.”
Blaine gripped the reins and pulled himself up. As he settled in the saddle, the beast moved, and let out a loud snuff of air. Blaine let out a small gasp and clenched the reins until his knuckles turned white.
Saff studied him with an amused expression, but remained silent.
“This is your guide,” Varus said.
Blaine turned and blinked again. A tiny girl stood between Varus and Galen. The giant men dwarfed her. She was wearing loose trousers and a tunic top, all in desert-beige. She had a green scarf wrapped around her neck, and her brown hair was tied in two dark braids that fell over her shoulders. If she was lucky, she might be twelve.
“That’s our guide?” Blaine said incredulously. “How old are you?”
The girl cocked a hip. “Old enough to tell you to mind your own business.”
Varus pressed a huge palm to the girl’s slim shoulder. “Duna is my best guide. Don’t let her age or size fool you. She knows the Carthago sands better than anyone.”
“She should be at school,” Blaine muttered under his breath.
Saff leaned closer. “Probably. But I’d say she’s grown up on her own, out in the desert. Varus is known for collecting strays and giving them a home and food in their bellies. The life she’s made for herself here with Varus is no doubt far better than what she had before.”
Blaine heard something buried deep in Saff’s voice, coated with a sense of admiration for this young girl.
Soon, Duna shimmied up on her own tarnid, looking minuscule on the giant animal. But, she handled the beast with ease as she led their group out of Varus’ stables. The sound of hooves clicking on stone echoed around them.
The strange gait of the tarnid felt odd, but as they moved through the streets, he started to adjust. Still, Blaine knew the way his ass was slamming into the saddle, he was going to feel it tomorrow.
The stables were located at the edge of Kor Magna, and it didn’t take them long before they were stepping off the paved roads and onto the desert sand. Quickly, the roads gave way to worn desert tracks, the stone buildings gave way to a flat, rocky expanse with only sand dunes in the distance.
As he stared ahead at the pale-beige desert, the walls of the arena and the glitz of the District seemed light years away.
They rode in pairs, forming a line behind Galen and Duna. Harper and Raiden were ahead of Blaine and Saff, while Kace and Thorin, and Lore and Nero brought up the rear. Soon, Blaine couldn’t even pick out any sort of track in the rocky sand, but clearly Duna knew where she was going. How, Blaine wasn’t sure. She wasn’t using any tech, and he sure as hell couldn’t see any landmarks. The girl was happily chatting away to Galen, and apparently didn’t need the imperator to respond.
It didn’t take long for him to feel the searing heat of the suns. Sweat beaded on his brow and trickled down his spine. In the distance, he saw the faint purple smudge of a rocky mountain range.
“Keep hydrated,” Saff said, almost as though she’d read his mind. She pointed to the bladder of water hanging off the side of his saddle. Blaine nodded, lifted the bladder, and put the opening to his lips. He took a large gulp. He saw Duna move ahead of their group, kicking her tarnid into a fast, loping gallop. She rode like she’d been born doing it, light and easy on the animal. It made Blaine feel fucking awkward.
“So, what do you know about this Zaabha place?” he asked.
Saff gave him a flat stare. “It’s a myth.”
“Okay, well, what do the myths say?”
She heaved out a breath, sitting so tall and straight in her saddle. “They say it’s an arena carved into the rocks in a secret place in the desert, where the desert beasts call home. The local warlords send in their champions to fight to the death in the bloodiest, roughest battles on Carthago.” She glanced at him. “Their champions are usually slaves from far-off lands in the stories.”
Blaine’s gut curdled. It sounded so much like the underground fight rings he’d escaped.
“It’s not real, Blaine.” Her voice softened. “No one in Kor Magna has ever found it.”
His jaw creaked under the strain of gritting his teeth. “I don’t need you to tiptoe around me. I survived the fight rings. I can handle talking about it.”
She shot him a long glance before nodding.
Suddenly, the sound of pounding hooves made Blaine’s head snap up. He saw Duna galloping back toward them, leaning over the neck of her tarnid, her braids flying out behind her.
She pulled up in a spray of sand. “Fresh signs of the caravan ahead. They definitely passed this way, and aren’t far ahead. We can catch them.”
Galen nodded. “Let’s move.”
“We’ll have to ride hard,” Duna said with a glint in her eye.
Blaine swallowed a groan, but turned his thoughts to Dayna, Mia, and Winter. The gladiators all kicked their beasts into action and rode hard.
As their tarnids hammered across the desert, Blaine just focused on holding on to the reins. Soon, he was soaked with sweat, and had aches in far too many places for him to count. Beside him, Saff rode like some warrior queen, regal in the saddle.
Duna held up a hand and started to slow. They all followed suit.
“I’ll take a look around,” Duna said. “It looks like they went off the main caravan route. Everyone take a break.”
They stopped, drinking from their bladders, as the girl circled her tarnid around, staring at the ground.
She came close to Blaine and glanced his way. “You don’t like riding.”
It wasn’t a question. He looked at his tarnid. “Not really. I haven’t done much of it. I worked in space before I came here.”
The young girl’s golden eyes went round. “Space?” She glanced up at the sky and then back at Blaine. “That is so liquid.”
He suppressed a smile. “Does that mean good?”
“Any sort of liquid out here is good,” Duna replied.
“Yeah, well, it was a pretty good job.”
“So how did you end up here?”
A bad taste filled his mouth. He’d just proclaimed he could handle talking about what he’d gone through, and he damn well would. “The Thraxians attacked the space station where I worked. They snatched a bunch of us and brought us here.”
The girl’s nose wrinkled. “I hate Thraxians. The tarnids refuse to let Thraxians ride them.” She tilted her head. “Can’t you go home?”
Blaine felt Saff watching him, but he kept his gaze on Duna. “It’s too far to go back to Earth. I guess this is my home, now.”
Duna gave a decisive nod. “I never had a home.”
Blaine felt something move through him. He realized a part of him had been angry that there was no way back. But Duna had nowhere to go back to…what did that do to a little girl?
“But Varus found me, and now I have my own room, a bed, food.” Duna grinned. “Good food. And I get to ride Yavi, here, whenever I want to, which is extra liquid.”
Blaine kept watching the girl as she leaned far out of the saddle, staring at the ground again. He was sure she’d fall off, but she clung with her legs with ease. A girl who’d had nothing and made something of her young life.
“Out of the mouths of babes,” Blaine muttered. His gaze met Saff’s. She had a faint smile on her striking face.
“There!” Duna shouted, pointing at a patch of ground that looked the same as everywhere else. She lifted her head, looking into the distance. “They’ve gone to Harmony.”
“Harmony?” Blaine asked.
“The Harmony Oasis,” Duna answered. “It’s not very big or popular, but some of the caravans use it when they need to.” The girl frowned. “Corsair doesn’t usually go there.”
Unless something was wrong. Blaine heard the unsaid words.
They turned, following Duna across the arid landscape. Before long, some faint shapes appeared in the distance. They looked like large rocks.
Blaine narrowed his eyes. He caught a glimpse of a small pool of water, and realized the lumps of rock surrounding it were actually dome-like houses carved out of stone.
“It’s not very big,” Raiden said.
“It’s bigger than you think,” Duna answered. “The houses are mostly underground. They mine for multicolored jewels here. Most of the residents are different folk, touched by too much sun. But for the right amount of coin, they’ll offer you food and drink…and information.”
They slowed their tarnids, and walked slowly into the desert town.
A few people looked up from under their doorways. Blaine noted wary eyes, hardened faces baked by the sun.
“No caravan,” Duna murmured, as she led them to a small store that was located closest to the murky oasis pool. A thin man in billowing robes rushed forward, carrying a tray of drinks.
“Welcome, welcome! You look like travelers in need of refreshments.”
The gladiators swung down and when Blaine’s boots touched the ground, his legs protested taking his weight.
“How much?” Galen asked.
The storekeeper smiled, his tanned face full of wrinkles, and named a price.
Thorin sputtered, but Galen lifted a hand. “That’s fine. But I want some information, as well.”
Blaine grabbed one of the drinks, guzzling it back. It was lukewarm and tasted a little salty, but he didn’t care.
As Galen moved away with the shop owner, the two of them murmuring quietly, Blaine looked around the small town. That’s when he noticed someone stealthily watching them from the shadows of one of the houses.
“Saff,” he said quietly.
At his tone, she stiffened and moved closer. He leaned his head down, like they were having an intimate moment. He caught the faint scent of healthy, feminine sweat, and he froze.
It wasn’t strong, but he could smell.
“What did you see?” she murmured.
For a second, Blaine was distracted, thinking of that scent, and wondering what her skin would taste like if he pressed his lips to the back of her long, graceful neck.
