Chapter 49 Venim
I am in the process of removing a Daloovian’s second head with a bone-handled axe I stole off one of his comrades when I hear Ghorak’s shout.
“Jee’nah!”
I complete my beheading stroke and follow through, spinning around just in time to see the crossbow quarrel flying straight at the little human.
And just in time to see Ghorak catch it.
His green hand darts out so fast, even I have trouble seeing it. The projectile impacts his palm dead center and pierces through to the other side, but the thickness of his flesh is enough to keep it from going any farther.
Without his intervention, it would have struck the human right in the face, killing her.
My relief is instant, but it is tempered with suspicion. For a weedhead, the Grangorian certainly has good reflexes.
Too good.
A long-limbed Oronian comes at me, whirling a double-tipped chitin spear.
I duck under his attack and bury my axe deep in his chest. I leave it there and trade him for his spear.
Longer range. Better against multiple enemies.
The whole process takes less than one sareth.
Before it’s over, I can already hear the Grangorian shouting again.
“Jee’nah! Wait!”
I turn and look. The human is now holding Ghorak’s rifle, which looks comically large in her tiny hands. She’s got it aimed directly at a one-eyed Hrud who is running at them. Damn it, I specifically told her not to do anything foolish!
The gun goes off, vaporizing the Hrud in a pink flash…
…and sending the human flying.
My heart pangs with concern, but I’m not able to continue watching. A pair of slavering Aetids are closing in on either side of me. I quickly finish them off with my double-tipped spear before turning my attention back to the human.
She is lying on the ground now, several veks from the location where she fired the rifle. She appears to be unharmed, but three more warriors are rushing toward her.
I am too far away to help. I could throw my spear, but that would only take care of one assailant. The other two will be on her before I can—
The Grangorian roars.
He moves faster than I’ve ever seen him move before, charging toward the human and her three assailants.
One of them turns and swings at him with a blade, but the Grangorian ducks and tumbles under the slice with the grace of an acrobat.
He comes out of his somersault with a kick that breaks the second attacker’s spine, killing him instantly.
The third comes at him from behind, but the Grangorian is far too quick. He spins like a dancer and backhands the attacker in the throat, killing him with the tip of the quarrel that is still impaling his palm.
The first inmate tries again with the sword, but the Grangorian deflects the blow with one of his horns. Then, with one smooth motion, he gores the attacker through the chest. His aim is impeccable.
All this in the space between one heartbeat and the next.
He doesn’t know I was watching. He doesn’t know anyone was watching besides the three men he just ended, and they won’t be telling anyone what they saw. There’s the human, of course, but I don’t even know if her eyes can move that fast.
Behind me, a vent surges, bathing the surroundings in a harsh, pink light. I see my shadow stretching before me, trembling madly in the plasma glow.
And beside it, a second shadow, leaping, blade poised to strike.
I sidestep just in time as the edge of the glazeblade cleaves the air where I was just standing. Sleezl holds the grip in his webbed fingers. His skin is greasy and green in the fading light of the vent.
“Venim…”
He comes at me with a horizontal slash, followed by a second slash in the other direction. I dodge out of the way, not attempting to block his strikes. Even in Sleezl’s clumsy hands, the glazeblade would cut straight through the spear I’m carrying.
“You’re slipping, Venim. I think that little female has made you soft.”
He thrusts, and I backflip away, landing atop a small ledge protruding from the side of a vent. Sleezl leaps for me, swinging, and I jump back to an even higher ledge.
“Don’t worry,” he taunts. “I’ll take good care of her… after I take care of you!”
He slashes, and I retreat, climbing.
Soon, I am standing on the edge of the vent. I don’t look down, but I can feel the immensity of the drop beside me, a scorched void falling away for thousands of veks straight down. Air rises from below, the planet’s hot breath lifting my hair.
Sleezl bounds onto the rim before me, my glazeblade clutched in a two-handed grip. He licks his lips with a slimy tongue. His eyes are black glass.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” he gurgles. “A long time.”
He lunges and cuts. I block with my spear, or at least I pretend to.
The glazeblade slices easily through the haft.
I stumble backward, landing face-up on the rim of the vent.
The two halves of my spear fall away, one clattering down the rocky exterior of the vent, the other dropping silently into its center.
Sleezl pounces, sword upraised.
He swings.
CLAP!
I bring my hands together, trapping the blade between my palms. The taalan-vaith maneuver. It requires more strength than I used with the human female, but not much.
One sharp kick to Sleezl’s groin, and his greasy fingers slip off the handle of the sword. He stumbles back, flailing out over the open mouth of the vent.
Then the plasma comes, boiling up from the planet’s heart, bright and burning.