Cleo
CLEO
The undercroft has lost the stench of feet and onions which the dome had. Down here, the air is thick, warm, and slightly metallic, almost as if we’re by the sea.
There’s something about this place which chills me. It’s as if it’s a receptacle for lost souls. The way Maxim’s feathers prick suggests to me he feels the same, even if I can’t catch his thoughts anymore.
Retah gives him his bright-eyed look. “You know this place. Where do you think the info center is?” he asks.
“I thought you knew?”
“I knew it was in this general area, but that’s where Maxym comes in. He knows this place,” Retah says.
“I came to the undercroft to deal with my violence, not look for data vaults,” Maxym growls, squaring up to Retah.
The stress of the situation is getting to both males. I give Retah a warning look and slip my hand into Maxym’s feathers.
“But this time, we’re here for data,” I say as I feel him relax just slightly and wish we could use the thoughtbond, a concept as alien as this planet and yet something which is so useful between lovers.
Maxym shakes his head. “I don’t know, my . It could be anywhere.”
“It won’t have been obvious,” Retah says unhelpfully.
“Was there anywhere you were unable to go or that was guarded perhaps?” I ask as Maxym closes his eyes, my fingers delving deeper into his downy feathers.
“We don’t have time for this,” Retah growls behind me.
“We have all the time,” I snap back.
Maxym opens his eyes, staring straight at me. “There were automated pulsars.” He heaves a breath. “If we went close, they’d open fire.”
He lifts all his feathers at once, then twirls them back into place, making sure not to shake me off.
“Which way?” I whisper.
My huge gladiator gives me his best smile. “With me,” he says and takes my hand from his back, kisses it, and then we’re heading into the darkness.
The undercroft is vast. My small handheld light illuminates a tiny portion of it as we move across the open space and towards a number of tunnels which lead away.
“How long did you spend down here?” I ask, the hairs on the back of my neck rising once again at the church-like silence of the place.
“Too long,” Maxym replies, quietly. “It is not a good place. But it is a place for a raging gladiator whose blood will not cool.”
I squeeze his hand, huge and warm, in mine. He looks down at me briefly and his face is filled with love.
“But now I never have to come back here again,” he says. “As I have you.”
Warmth blooms from my center. For all my silly, presumably hormonal, concerns back at the bath and pleasure house, my heart knows Maxym. It knows no matter what has happened in his past, it is his past, and I am his future.
We can do this. We can beat the Bogarok and those controlling them, I feel it in my bones. Maxym will be free.
Ahead of us is a yawning mouth of a tunnel. Maxym releases my hand and draws his sword, flicking his head at Retah.
“Wait here,” he says to me. “Be ready.”
I pull out my pulsar and he smiles.
“Always ready,” I respond.
“Good,” he says. “With me, Retah.” The pair of them advance into the darkness, leaving me alone in a pool of light.
I can hear my breathing. I certainly wish I had Maxym’s ability to see in near darkness because this light feels like a beacon.
Ahead, in the dark, there is a low, horrible slicing sound.
“Maxym?” I take a step forward, the darkness somehow feeling like it’s closing in on me.
I call his name again as I walk a few more paces to the tunnel entrance.
Only there is no longer an entrance. My foot hits something solid. Something metal which rings at my touch. A door?
“Maxym!” I bellow out, thumping my fist against it.
“Looks like we caught ourselves a tasty snack for the Bogarok,” a voice sniggers in the dark.
I spin around to be faced with a large, bulbous Habosu.
Of course it would be Habosu working with the Bogarok. I roll my eyes.
“You really don’t want to do this,” I say, lifting the pulsar.
Neither of them move.
“A little female with a pulsar too large for her,” he says. “One she needs to hand over before she gets hurt.”
His eyes travel down my body, although I already know Habosu find all females other than their own kind repellant. They light up when he sees the rounding of my stomach.
“And a female who carries Gryn young,” he says gleefully. “My masters will be pleased.”
Could this Habosu be any more hench-alien? It’s like he’s been programmed or something…
Which is when it hits me. The way Maxym described Klynn as being rendered unconscious, the way he was affected by the proximity of the Bogarok the second time he encountered them.
“Mind control,” I say out loud.
“What?” The hench-Habosu is taken by surprise at my announcement.
“It’s mind control of some sort they’re using, isn’t it?”
It all suddenly makes sense. Why the Bogarok want all the males. It immediately stops any resistance and creates a built in, but expendable, army they control.
The Habosu furrows his brow. “A tasty snack…for the…Bogarok…” he says, struggling over the words as if this time, he doesn’t want to say them again.
“And what if I’m not?” I rush on, wanting to give Maxym and Retah more time, to get free, to reappear, or anything, because if any more Habosu appear, I’m not going to be able to get away. “A tasty snack for the Bogarok. What if I’m their worst nightmare?”
“Then, little female, he’ll bring you to me…”