Cleo
CLEO
The damp passage runs uphill until we reach an old ladder which is mere metal rungs slammed into the wall.
“Up,” Maxym says, placing me on the first rungs and following behind until we reach the iron grating above.
He listens for a short while and then braces his back against the grate, shielding me with his body. He shoves and the thing gives with a grinding shriek, falling back over with a loud clang.
“If they didn’t know where to find us before,” I hiss, “they do now.”
“Unlikely. I do not believe Bogarok bathe,” Maxym says, helping me out of the drain and onto solid ground before following me out.
The air is thick with the smell of hot water and cleansing products. I might not have the sense of smell Maxym does, given he was able to literally use his nose to find the booby trap back in the vault, but I know the scent well.
“This is a bath?” I query. “In the dome?”
“Not quite,” Maxym says. “The hot springs which feed the baths in the dome are part of this system, but these are in a private bath next to the dome.” He smiles at me and lifts his wings over his head. “We sometimes came here, if we had a pass and if we needed to get away from all the fussing clerks.” He stretches out his left wing, twisting it one way, then the other. “The minerals are better for healing here. Helped fix my wing once.”
“All well and good, but we still have to get to the dome,” Retah says.
“Did I also mention we sometimes came here without a pass because they’re more than happy to serve gladiators with mead-ale?” Maxym says with a wicked smile.
“Rogue.” Retah thumps him on his back between his wings.
“You never told me you were this sneaky.” I slide my hand into his.
“Survival makes you do what you need to,” Maxym says, “but survival is about more than just staying alive.”
“It includes mead-ale and bathing?”
“What is life without mead-ale and bathing?” he replies, pulling me against him. “And you.”
“What indeed,” I say as he captures me with a kiss until Retah clears his throat.
“Ah yes, the mission,” Maxym says as I’m released. “If I want mead-ale, bathing, and you all to myself in the future, I suppose we’d better get on with it.”
“As long as I know where I stand in the hierarchy of your life.” I laugh. “Somewhere behind mead-ale and bathing.”
Maxym gives me a long, dangerous look. “My life is yours, sweet mate. Always.”
Like I ever had any doubt.
“It’s this way.” He heads out of the rough-hewn room through an archway with Retah and I following.
We move through increasingly more ornate, and deserted rooms which have deep pools of steaming water. I can see why Maxym is attracted to this place, although the murals of naked females could also have something to do with it.
“Only you,” he whispers in my ear. “Even when I was sold for pleasure, there was none, until you.”
I’m about to ask what he could possibly mean about being sold for pleasure when we reach the outer door of the bathing house, and he takes a sharp left turn, leaping up a flight of stairs two at a time with Retah and I rushing to catch him up. I’m sure I see movement out of the corner of my eye, but I ignore it as we race through a few more rooms, some of which have beds in disarray, making me wonder exactly what else goes on in this bath house.
And why Maxym was so fond of it.
He pushes through a set of double doors, and we are out in the humid air once again, sheltered under a small portico. The dome looms up dead ahead of us.
“See the doorway?” Maxym points to a large black square about twenty feet from ground level.
“Only a Gryn would consider this a way to sneak in and out of the dome,” Retah growls. “How do you expect us to get up there? Because I’m not clinging to you while you fly us.”
“You don’t. I will, then I’ll open the door down there.” Maxym points to one at street level. “It’ll take all of half a nova-second.” He fixes Retah with a glare. “And how do you think I got in and out while I was injured?”
“Fair enough,” Retah says. “There’s no way you’re carrying me anywhere, Gryn,” he adds.
“Not a chance,” Maxym responds.
I suspect their budding bromance has halted in the face of what we’re about to do. I step between them, sliding my hands into Maxym’s feathers and wishing he could take off his helmet.
I want to feel his thoughts again, the ones which tell me how he is, what he’s feeling, what he thinks about me. The baths, the murals, his mention of being sold for pleasure have all created a maelstrom within me which I find completely inappropriate and yet I’m unable to stop.
“Pregnancy hormones,” I grumble under my breath as his feathers lift and slick under my touch.
“What is it, little scrap?” Maxym asks.
“Nothing,” I say. “Nothing which can’t wait until later anyway.”
Above us, there is a clatter and a metallic screech.
“Bogarok,” Retah says, twisting his horned head to the sky. “We need to move from here or we run the risk of being detected.”
Maxym growls, launches himself into the air, and with several swift wing beats he’s on the side of the dome, deftly landing on a tiny ledge which I couldn’t even see. I’m impressed at the way his huge form becomes like a ballet dancer as he works his way to the doorway and, after a heart stopping moment, it opens and he slips inside.
Whereupon, it slams shut, seemingly as if the dome has taken him again.
“Don’t worry, ,” Retah tries to reassure me. “He can take care of himself.”
“I know, but the Bogarok…” I say as a large shadow flits over us.
“Speaking of Bogarok, we need to get away from here. Our movement has most likely already been spotted.”
He drags me back inside as I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from where I last saw Maxym.
“Is this place only for bathing?” I ask out loud.
“It’s a pleasure house too,” Retah says. “But I’m sure Maxym wasn’t using it as one,” he adds quickly. “From what I’ve been told, the Gryn gladiators were not allowed to use pleasure houses unless they were being paid for their time.” He glances at me. “This isn’t helping, is it?”
“You might want to stop talking now,” I respond.
After all, whether I have a job or not after all of this is immaterial if I don’t have Maxym.
And at this moment, I don’t have him at all.