Maxym
MAXYM
I am not going to fit.
Nate slips through the narrow opening, followed by Cleo and then Dirk. He set some traps which he claims will slow down any Varangy or disable the mind control should they send in any unfortunate Zarvu.
I don’t trust him. He’s too similar to a Drahon and they can never be one hundred percent trustworthy. With my memory returning, I’m getting so much more insight into what has happened to me and what it all might mean.
The only real blank spot is what Protoex is. I recoil at the name, but there is nothing solid to know what I’m fighting.
Slicking my wings hard against my body, I angle myself through the hidden doorway and into the passage beyond. Once I’m through, I close the door and begin to wiggle sideways, slowly, to the voices I can hear.
It’s not far, just keep coming.
Cleo’s voice echoes around my head, sweet and serene. She seems to have a handle on this whole thoughtbond thing, far better than I. Her thoughts are calming, or mirth, or positive in a way I’m not sure I can muster.
It’ll come, my love .
Her belief in me is unending. Even if I nearly got her killed. I cannot wait until I can nest properly for her.
I creep my way out into a larger room, pulling my wing free and shaking my feathers as hard as I can.
“I really didn’t think he would fit,” Nate says to Cleo.
I feel like I’ve been sucked through the insides of a ziggurag, so he’s not so far wrong.
“We need to go get Retah,” Cleo says to me.
“We need to finish the mission, and if he’s survived, he’ll be there,” I respond before she recoils.
I pull her into my arms.
“I didn’t mean it like that, little scrap. Retah’s tough. He’s stubbornly made it this far, and he’ll join us at the info vault.”
“Vault?” Dirk says.
All the words which need to be said pass between Cleo and me.
“There’s a vault containing a weapons stash,” Cleo says smoothly, “under the dome. We need it for the force which is coming to liberate Tatatunga.”
“Oh, I thought you meant the Galactic Council’s info vault,” Dirk replies. “The one Protoex has been steadily working his way through the council members in order to gain the location for.”
“What do you mean ‘working his way through’?” I growl.
“Mostly having them tortured and killed,” Dirk says.
I feel the anger rising, but this Kijg, whatever else he has done, was not the one responsible for the death of the council member who was helping me. It is those who seek to control him and others. This is where I need to channel my rage.
I feel Cleo’s approval down the bond.
The small passage has brought us out in the guest gladiator quarters. The place is empty and has a lingering scent of males I dislike.
“Back to the undercroft?” Cleo queries.
“Back to the undercroft, only this time we’ll take a different route.”
Neither of us know how much time we have before the force Retah alluded to will get here, but when it does, the entire place is going to erupt, and it means we must get to the vault before anyone else.
My feathers itch. I also want to nest with a desire which is almost overwhelming. Seeing the swell of my Cleo’s stomach, feeling her against me, scenting her—it’s all sending me absolutely wild. It certainly doesn’t help having a male with us I can’t trust and a little Oykig who is looking at her like she’s a goddess.
Because Cleo is my goddess.
It’s making everything ache, not least my head. I could do with a team, like I had when I was a commander. Several more Gryn would be most welcome.
A deep growl reverberates through the service passage we’re using. It’s coming from one of the conduit tubes.
“What was that?” Nate whispers.
“It was another Gryn,” Dirk says. “The feral one who escaped me.”
“Vrex.” I run my hand through my hair. “Klynn.”
As I say his name, Klynn explodes from the conduit. He has no weapons, and his body is covered in grime and blood, most of which is unlikely to be his. His claws are fully unsheathed and his fangs fully extended. I don’t let him get any closer, slamming my body into him, forcing him farther away from my mate and our little group.
With some difficulty, I get my hand around his throat, his claws ripping at my flesh.
“Klynn, you vrexer. It’s me, ,” I snarl, hoping to get through to him, through the mind control and to whatever might be left of him.
“You dropped me on my head,” he snarls, the words hardly forming past his fangs.
“It was the only place I thought wouldn’t hurt you.”
He stops struggling.
“Vrexer,” he growls, but this time there’s no force in it.
“I was going to say,” Dirk interrupts, “I managed to give him some of the serum before he escaped. But being dropped on his head would have had a similar effect.”
I sort of want to warn Dirk about getting too close to Klynn, but it’s too late. Klynn fires out an arm and hooks Dirk by his coat, pulling him up to eye level.
“I remember you,” Klynn snarls. “You were working with the Bogarok and the Varangy.”
“Dirk isn’t one of them,” I say as the Kijg’s scales start to turn an interesting shade of green. “They have his family, and he says he is trying to help us.”
Dirk makes some noises like he is agreeing with me.
“We have a mission, warrior,” I growl, as this has gone on long enough.
“A mission?” Klynn drags his eyes from where he’s clearly considering what to chop off Dirk first.
“A mission.”
Dirk is dropped to the ground where he clutches at his neck.
I now have one Gryn, my clever mate, and two…reptiles. And the Gryn I have is barely hanging on to his sanity as it is.
I’d say we’re probably vrexed.