Chapter 41 Scythro
I’ll admit, that was something of a gamble.
I might have allowed the thug to shoot Venim first, then killed the thug with the throwing knife after. Perhaps I should have done that, but I just can’t shake those strange words that are still echoing in my brain.
…Find a different way…
I think I have.
Three quick strides and I top the rim of the crater to stare at the grisly scene within.
Dead lay strewn around the bottom in bloody pieces, dismembered, disemboweled.
Venim stands at the very center of the destruction, naked save for his boots, his orange scales shimmering in the pale daylight, his arms drenched in a dozen shades of death.
My heart flutters slightly as his eyes lock with mine.
“You,” he says.
“Me,” I answer.
The human female is lying on the ground behind him, naked and shivering. And alive! Thank the Goddess. When I heard the calamity in the crater, I feared the worst, but it seems Venim managed to bring her through unscathed.
Perhaps the bastard deserves to live after all.
“Don’t friggin’ move!”
A green mass topped with a pair of sharp horns has appeared at the opposite edge of the crater. Ghorak. The big guy is holding his homemade rifle again. Even though he’s swaying drunkenly, he seems to be doing a decent job of keeping the business end aimed at its intended target.
Venim turns and regards Ghorak nonchalantly.
“You too,” he says.
“I said don’t move, asshole. Somethin’ wrong with your karfin’ ears?”
“That thing isn’t loaded,” Venim replies. “I tested it earlier.”
“It’s loaded now, karfhead.”
I am genuinely uncertain if Ghorak is bluffing or not. I just finished cutting him loose a kethar ago. It’s possible that was enough time for him to retrieve the rifle and load it, assuming he knew where to find some ammunition. It’s possible… but unlikely.
Nevertheless, I decide to play along. Sort of.
“Ghorak, hold your fire.”
The Grangorian keeps the weapon aimed at Venim, but he shifts his eyes toward me and raises his dark green brows.
“What?”
“He’s more useful to us alive.”
“You kiddin’? He’s dangerous!”
“Precisely…”
I make my way down into the crater, pausing briefly to pluck the throwing knife out of the dead thug I just killed.
Even after sawing through two sets of chains, the tip is still sharp enough to pierce flesh.
I give the blade a quick wipe to clear away the blood.
Then I stroll forward and offer it to its owner, handle first. Ghorak and Jean just watch in silent amazement. Only Venim seems unsurprised.
“I believe this belongs to you,” I tell him.
He doesn’t thank me.
“Anybody care to tell me what the karf’s going on here?
” Ghorak asks. He is currently stumbling his way down the inner wall of the crater.
It’s a precarious proposition for someone as stoned as he is.
All the more so, considering he’s carrying a gun which he claims is loaded—and which is still aimed, more or less, at Venim.
I wait until he’s come to a stop before answering him.
“Our friend here is a Znthian warrior,” I explain, gesturing at Venim with my tail, “bound by a strict code of honor. I just saved his life. That means he now owes me a life-debt. I’m pretty sure that means he can’t kill me.”
I really hope I’m not wrong about that. I must confess, my knowledge of Znthian warrior culture is patchy at best.
The fact that Venim hasn’t plunged the knife into my chest is encouraging.
He scowls. “I wouldn’t have needed saving if you hadn’t stolen my knife in the first place.”
“I didn’t steal it,” I inform him. “The human did.”
It pains me to snitch on Jean like that, but it’s a necessity. If I just earned her another spanking, I’ll make it up to her. I have a feeling Venim wouldn’t let me off quite so easily.
For a long moment, the Znthian just stares at me.
Then he kneels and tucks the throwing knife back into its sheath on the inside of his boot.
He remains kneeling and looks up at me, his expression revealing nothing of what’s going on behind it.
I have to say, the bastard looks pretty good on his knees, especially considering he’s wearing nothing but a pair of boots.
“Very well,” he says. “I am indebted.”
“That’s all well and good for Scythro,” Ghorak says, “but what about me? I haven’t saved Venim’s life. Fucker’ll probably stick a knife in me the sareth I’ve got my back turned.”
“Please,” Venim chuckles. “You think I’m worried about a weedbrain like you?”
Ghorak grumbles. His finger is taut on the trigger. I still don’t know if he’s bluffing about the gun being loaded.
“I don’t like it,” he says. “I say we waste him now, while we’ve got the chance. What are we keeping him around for anyway?”
I smile.
“As you already pointed out, he’s dangerous. And in case you hadn’t noticed, Ul is a dangerous place. Our chances of protecting Jean are exponentially better with Venim around. Furthermore, it is now in his interest to cooperate with us.”
“It is?”
“Sure. He can’t exactly go running back to Pharod now that he’s slaughtered a dozen of his men. Besides, I don’t think he’s particularly keen on handing the human over to the ore baron.” I fix the Znthian with a stare. “Are you, darling?”
Venim glowers. Ghorak grunts.
“Still don’t like it,” says Ghorak.
“Very well. We’ll put it to a vote then. Jean, what do you think?”
“Me?” the human gasps.
While we three males have been talking, she’s been getting dressed. Her curvaceous body is once more packed safely within her bodysuit, and her pretty face is blushing hard behind her breathing mask.
“You’re the tie-breaker,” I say with a nod. “What are we going to do with Venim, kill him or take him with us?”
It brings me no pleasure to put her on the spot like this, but again, it is necessary. If we keep Venim with us, that means he’ll be present tonight when her estrus sets in. That’s why she must have the final word in this.
“Maybe there’s a third option,” she says.
“What’s that?”
“We don’t have to kill Venim. We can just leave him here while the three of us take the thrumwings and—”
As if on cue, a sound comes from somewhere outside the crater. A low hum, like a dozen deep voices suddenly singing in unison. A choir of membranous wings.
“Shit!” Venim snarls.
He is the fastest among us, and therefore the first to race up the side of the crater, but I am right behind him. I crest the rim in time to see the source of the commotion, though I already have some idea what’s causing it.
One of Venim’s former underlings is sitting astride one of the thrumwings. The same bearded Thruk I tried to seduce this morning. His armored torso is impaled by Venim’s crystal sword, but the wound does not appear to have been fatal. Not yet, leastways.
I suddenly recall that Thrukian circulation involves a distributed system of micropumps with no single point of failure.
No heart, in other words.
“Bastard!” Venim roars, racing down the outer slope of the crater.
I do not bother to follow him. It’s obvious the effort is futile. The Thruk’s mount is already airborne, as are the dozen or so other thrumwings we rode in on. It’s a well-known trait of thrumwing behavior that, in the absence of a rider to direct them, they will tend to follow the swarm.
The Thruk hasn’t just stolen one of our rides; he’s stolen all of them.
VWHMPF!
The sound of Ghorak’s energy rifle startles me so badly I nearly fall right off the rim of the crater. Ahead of us, in the distance, one of the thrumwings disappears in a swirl of pink.
Looks like Ghorak wasn’t bluffing after all.
“The rider!” Venim shouts, turning back to face us now. “Shoot the rider, you fool!”
Ghorak grumbles under his breath: “I’m trying.”
He presses a switch on the side of the gun, and the barrel hinges down, exposing the breech. With his free hand, he reaches into a pouch on his hip, and pulls out a pinch of bright pink powder.
Ore dust. Raw ore dust.
Ghorak quickly sprinkles the powder into the breech of the rifle. Then he snaps it closed again and takes aim.
VWHMPFF!
The second shot is even farther off mark, disintegrating a riderless thrumwing at the very edge of the swarm. There is no point in reloading. The skewered Thruk is already well out of range.
“Good attempt,” I tell Ghorak, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
The human is standing on the other side of him, staring silently at the receding swarm of thrumwings. The bugs are now little more than dark specks in the distance.
“I told you to aim for the rider!”
Venim is stomping back toward the crater, an angry scowl plastered across his orange face. Combined with his lack of clothing, the effect is almost comical. Almost.
Ghorak lowers his rifle and looks at me.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to just shoot this asshole?” he asks.
“How fast can you reload?” I ask in return.
Ghorak starts digging through the pouch on his belt, and I realize my joke was a little too deadpan. I touch his shoulder to stop him.
“I was kidding,” I tell him. “We still haven’t heard Jean’s decision. It’s up to her now.”
The little human is hugging her arms and frowning as Venim climbs the slope of the crater toward us. She doesn’t seem to have heard me.
“Jean?” I ask softly.
She turns and looks at me with the expression of one who has just woken up from a very strange dream.
“Yes?”
“What do you want to do about Venim?”