Escape from Harrizel (41 page)

My heart stops, my legs stiffening at their
impending attack but before I have time to panic, the same dark
figure races past me. He slides across the floor with the familiar
long rod and slams it into the knee caps of both the outer Kings.
Instantly they fumble as the figure knocks the rod high into the
groin of the middle one, sliding beneath his legs. He’s on his
feet, bringing the rod back down on all three just as two more come
up behind him. Now more players start, adding to the small riot
ahead.

My hand is jerked back.

“It’s me,” Able yanks me behind him.
“There’re more than we thought. Come on,” he leads our way through
the rows of Bubbles. He stops a couple times, waits, looks and then
jerks me behind him, halting again.

“They sent twelve.”

“
Twelve
?”

“That I’ve counted.
So
far. More may
be sneaking in.”

“How many Rogues?”

“A few.
Shit
!” Able’s thrown back,
into the wall of the nearest Bathing Bubble, with a loud clang. He
dodges a blow to the face, the hard fist of a King slamming into
the Bubble’s glass instead. He cries out, just as Able slips from
his hold, knocking him back with his elbow. He looks at me, his
eyes wide with terror. “Behind you!”

Spinning, I find one of the largest
silhouettes coming for me, his hand outstretched to grab my throat.
Seconds before he can, the dark figure dashes in front of me,
knocking the blow to the side. He’s still only a shadow and it
takes me a second to realize why.

He’s in black.

As in, his scrubs are black, covered with
some sort of ash or soot. Even his face, neck and hands are covered
in it. Only his eyes stand out, the white nearly glowing in
contrast to his shadowy camouflage. He’s matching hit for hit with
the massive King, the spar evenly fought in front of me and I’m
paralyzed, helpless to watch.

They keep it to hand-to-hand combat before
the King whips out a small blade, thrusting it in front of him. The
dark figure retrieves his own assistance—the familiar glass rod
that he swirls in his hand, enticing the King to charge.

He finally does.

Using four hits—to the chest, neck, back and
knee—the figure takes the massive King to the ground where he lays
incapacitated like the others. He kicks away the blade, hands on
his hips, breathing heavy.

“You okay?” Able asks at my side.

“Me?” I blink. “Are
you
? Are…” and
just as I’m about to ask the dark hero, he vanishes.

“He’s securing the room—come on,” Able
guides me back to the entrance.

In the front, Tucker and all Rogue
Commanders group around their loot, a center pile of mostly
motionless Kings. Several lay unconscious, mouths open but
some—only a few—aren’t fully gone, left with one eye open and still
cursing through busted lips. Piled on top of each other, all have
been tied up. Twine keeps their hands at their backs and close to
their ankles which have been bound as well. Sixteen total.

Against seven Rogues.

The dark figure rounds behind me, his chest
exhaling as he glances down at the collection. He throws the last
King into the pot, topping it off with the largest Clansman. The
few still awake let out a groan, the others merely sagging beneath
the weight. Reid keeps his hands to his hips, speaking through a
heavy pant. “Count off.”

“Tucker.”

“Kelly.”

“Able.”

“Chief.”

“Jace.”

“Harrison.”

“Door?” Reid asks next to me, smearing soot
from his cheek.

“Secure,” Tucker says. “Sixteen Kings.
Mantis and Grisham are a negative.”

“Sixteen,” Reid exhales, his body still
slowing from dragging and binding the last King, “first round. Not
bad. Tucker, Chief, Jace and Harrison with me to relocate the
Kings. Able, Kelly—please take Fallon to my room. Afterward, grab a
few—Booker, Merritt… the Carpenters—catch up with us when we loop
back for the rest.”

Both nod as Able hooks his arm in mine,
Kelly moving ahead toward the exit. Reid’s already busy discussing
the best way to transfer the Kings. Able pulls me along, nearly out
of the darkness but I turn in time to see the Rogues each throwing
a limp King over their shoulders.

We’re back at Reid’s room in minutes, both
escorts leaving me inside to pace. I didn’t realize I was spending
another night here… but I guess it’s fine after that. Besides, I
feel better not being alone anyway. Pacing the small bit of room, I
go over everything. If we can just do that a few more times,
quickly
, we’ll be rid of the Kings in no time. They’ve
already eliminated twenty Clansmen in total—nearly half! And it’s
only been a day!

It’s takes longer than I expect for Reid to
return. Minutes turn into hours and after the first two, I decide
not to wait up for him and just go to sleep. I climb into his bed
and the second I hit the pillow, I’m gone. After some time, I’m
awoken by murmured whispers at the door.

They’ll be screaming all night.

They deserve it.

Thanks for your help
.
Tomorrow
.

The door closes and he’s moving around
behind me, the sound of fabric hitting the floor. Rolling over, I
prop myself on my right elbow, drinking in the delicious sight.
He’s clad in black boxers and freshly showered. His damp brown hair
clings to him, beads of remaining water sprinkled over his muscular
chest and washboard abs.

“Hi.”

His eyes fly to me, excited. “Hey,” he
smiles, suddenly wiping the humor from his face. “What’re you still
doing up?”

“What time is it?”

“Late.”

I shrug. “
You’re
up.”

“I was taking care of things.”

Images from earlier race through my mind. I
nod, unable to help biting my lip. “You look good in black.”

“You saw me?”

“Every time,” I smile. He doesn’t return it,
but nods to himself as if disappointed he wasn’t more covert in his
movements. “So they’re out there now?”

“Yeah,” he looks to the window. “Worked out
better than we thought, actually.”

“So another go for tomorrow?”

“Probably. Though,” he makes his way to his
mirror, “you may not be involved this time. Which I like.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sampson and Jothkore gather during the day.
Maybe you can go with them tomorrow.”

“Really?” I sit up. “And the Dofinikes
wouldn’t know?”

“They don’t have the manpower to supervise
everyone, remember? They just want us to think they do.”

“So I can gather tomorrow?”

Reid nods, “Plus it’ll get you away from the
Kings, which I also like. And you’ll be with someone who can keep
you safe.”

“Can he?”

Reid scoffs, “Better than me.”

“I don’t believe it,” I think of the way he
moved earlier. Could anybody be better than that? Even Sampson?

“Believe it,” he sighs. “If anyone can keep
you safer than me, it’s Sampson.”

“And Jothkore?”

“Sampson trusts him. I trust Sampson,” he
offers as if the logic was irrefutable. “Gathering during the day
is probably the safest place for you. And that,” he climbs into the
bed, “is the best thing to do.”

***

“Fallon, wake up.”

“Hmm…”

Reid’s over me, wiping a curl from my face.
He leans in and softly presses his lips to my right eye, mumbling
into my skin. “Jothkore and Sampson are outside.”

“Okay...”

“I wish you could stay here… in my bed,” he
trails his lips down my cheek, toward my lips. “What’s the point of
being Rox if I can’t order it?”

“But…” I laugh, almost succumbing to the
fire he’s lighting, “…I’m not a Rogue.”

He moves his mouth lower, onto my neck. “I
could still make you stay…”

“Oh, no you don’t,” I slip out of the bed
before he’s able to make good on the threat. I glance in his mirror
and pull my hair back in a ponytail of messy brown curls. I turn to
Reid for approval but he merely watches.

“All right,” he climbs out of the bed,
gesturing to the door with a sigh, “go if you must.”

I kiss him goodbye and once outside, I find
Sampson and a tall stranger waiting in the darkened corridor. The
newcomer is lighter-skinned, almost albino, and has bright green
eyes and short blonde, nearly white hair. His hands are cupped
behind his back, his mouth wide with a grin.

“Fallon,” Sampson turns to his friend. “This
is Jothkore.”

“Good morning Fallon,” Jothkore extends his
right palm. “It’s so very nice to meet you.”

“Same,” I take his hand but he captures mine
in both of his. After a long moment he releases me.

“Should we be off then?”

We head for the hidden door in the wall and
down into the tunnels below. After a while, we emerge into the
dense greenery of Harrizel’s jungle. It’s dusted in a soft white
morning mist that settles just above the damp ground. Sampson and
Jothkore take languid steps in the same direction, deep into the
shadowed silhouettes of oversized bushes and hanging, crisscrossing
vines. They walk almost the same path, step for step, gliding
through the broken city with natural ease.

“Fallon,” Sampson gestures toward a small
group of Marowine bushes. He hands me the same foldable bamboo
basket, “if you could collect some Marowines…”

I pass the first few hours filling baskets
with the food, continually returning them to Sampson who hands me
another empty container, requesting I gather more.

The sun is fully in the sky, nearly hanging
in the center when Sampson strides over. “Hungry?”

“A little…” I didn’t eat earlier and my
stomach started growling about half an hour ago so yeah, I could
eat.

“Let’s take a break,” Sampson leads me to a
small clearing beyond Ellae’s edge, just in sight of the Rinzal
Tree. He pauses, gazing at it for only a second before gesturing to
a wide, low stump. Jothkore’s seated himself on one across from
mine and Sampson leans against a tree, a Gupple in hand. He brings
it up to his mouth and takes a bite.

“You come out here every day?” I pluck a
Rublie from a nearby bush as I make for the stump
.“
Every day,” Jothkore nods, biting into his
Gupple.

“And you make deliveries to Tucker?”

He finishes chewing and shakes his head, “To
Able.”

“How often?” I pick a couple red Rublie
beads and toss them into my mouth.

“Every day. Every morning before first bell
and again after your return back from second meal,” Jothkore pauses
with his Gupple, surprise emanating from his emerald eyes. “Has
Reid not told you any of this?”

We both glance to Sampson but he’s gazing
off into the distance, toward the Rinzal Tree. He’s lost in it,
somewhere else—another time perhaps. The Gupple is clutched in his
hand, which hangs idly at his side, no longer the reason for his
break.

“Well,” Jothkore goes on, “I’d like to help
more, but I’m afraid I’ve been too conspicuous already. Things have
been…” he slows, searching for the word, “…hectic for a bit, so it
was easier for me to slip in and out. But now, with more visits
from the High Vermix, there’s a tighter hold on things. More
accountability. And…” he sighs heavily, the worst news yet. “Tetlak
suspects.”

“Why is that so terrible?”

“Son of a High Vermix,” Sampson answers, “if
he makes it a serious issue, Jothkore could be arrested.”

“And you don’t think he’s known this whole
time?” I ask.

“Oh he has…” Jothkore nods, “but now he’s
losing Clansmen.
Rapidly
,” he shoots Sampson a nervous
glance. “Once he finds out his business is hurting…”

“He knows Jothkore supplies the Rogues,”
Sampson continues, “but he hasn’t come forward because until now
it’s worked in his favor. Slaves at war with each other, keeps
things simple. But things are shifting so it’s no longer profitable
to him,” Sampson sighs. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“Nine days?” I throw out.

“Most likely.”

I turn to Jothkore. “Are you scared?”

“Of what?” he laughs at the absurdness of
the question. “Accused of being an Arizal? Serving beneath Fychu
Sampson?” he laughs again, the idiocy arising. “No, it would only
unveil my greatest honor. Though…” and he shakes his head at the
sad truth, “my country would see it as betrayal.”

“Being an Arizal is acknowledged throughout
your galaxy?”

“
Your
galaxy,” Sampson motions to me,
losing focus with the Rinzal Tree as he mumbles to himself,
“now…”

“Yes,” Jothkore answers. “It’s known
throughout the Three Worlds.”

“So how is it a bad thing? It means
universal peace, right?”

“
Exactly
.”

“But as Dofinikes, we’re expected to remain
Vermix,” Sampson mutters lowly and mostly to himself. “Anything
else is treason.”

“Can’t you just move off the moon? Escape
Dellapalania?” I look between the two of them.

“We could…” Jothkore starts.

“Only Mybyncia…” Sampson is still staring at
that tree. “Which we may have to. Once Harrizel is liberated.”

“Parts of Nerwolix would accept us…”

Sampson shoots him a look and Jothkore drops
it.

“Well…” I focus on Jothkore, hoping for the
best. “Do you know where they keep the weapons? I know the memories
are top secret…”

“No,” he shakes his head sadly,
“unfortunately, I’m not privy to information of that rank. But I
listen. I keep my ears open for anything useful but no one’s
talking. Not with the High Vermix’s visit so soon.”

It all sounds so impossible all of a sudden.
Before I realize I’m asking, the question slips from my lips. “Do
we have a chance?”

“Oh yes, Fallon,” Jothkore nods with such
certainty it’s hard not to believe him. “Without a doubt.”

“We’ll have defenses,” Sampson reassures me,
gazing off at the pink and peach tree, it’s long, billowy tresses
dancing on the breeze. “You don’t have to worry about that.”