Discovery at Nerwolix (23 page)

“I was looking up and I thought I was seeing
things,” Jace’s words falls out in one breathless statement, “and
bam! There they were! Just sitting up there, ready to ambush us
like fucking
ninjas
.”

“Like the Zingfinolds all over again,” Able
releases Mae but she keeps to his side, crossing her arms and
keeping her focus down.

“Yeah, except
they’re
the ones
subdued—not us,” Clarence arrives with Qippert on his left. Sampson
is at his other side, dragging an unconscious Vermix behind
him.

“This is it?” The Fychu scans the narrow
passage. The walls are maybe fifteen feet apart and with the
daylight, the entrance is lit up enough so we can see. But further
down, where the space tapers into darkness, a quiet eeriness fills
the space. “I thought it’d be a bit bigger,” he looks unimpressed.
“Everyone unharmed?”

“More or less,” Jothkore nods. “Except Vix
was struck in her shoulder. The skin has been separated.”

“She will need some Vilbrees on it,” Qippert
advises.

“Of course,” Sampson moves closer to examine
her. “As soon as we return to the city. Vix, will you be able to
hold on until then?”

“Of course, Fychu.”

“Very good.”

“Very good,” he turns for the group of bound
Vermix, adding his own to the pile. “Now then—how many left are
there?”

Each Dofinike responds with a suffocated
hiss, trying to snap and snarl but getting nowhere. Sampson’s eyes
dart over the eight of them, settling on one toward the back,
leaned nearly up against the wall.

“That one, Jothkore,” he gestures to the
selected Vermix. “Our good friend there. Would you mind?”

“Of course, Fychu,” Jothkore drags him to
the front, carefully unwinding the whip that binds his snout.

“Well?” Sampson says. “How many?”

Glaring, the Vermix’s yellow eyes shift over
everyone, halting with abhorrence on the Rogues, Walker, the girls
and I.

“I will not ask you again.”

The Vermix lets out a hissing jumble of
sounds.

“So it
is
just you eight?”

He replies with another few words, all sour
and rounding off with a nasty curse.

“That shows how very little he knows.”

The Vermix spouts out a challenging tone,
like he’s trying to win some verbal battle.

“Right now? Probably back at his city, which
is where I plan on taking you momentarily. Hozfin will want to know
about any unannounced visitors and I would hate to disappoint him
by not announcing your arrival. Believe me, he will be interested
to know you have dropped in on him. But, before we go see the king,
you will tell me what Reuzkimpart’s plan is. When does he intend to
invade? Oh, and in English, please.”

The Vermix scans us again but he remains
silent. Sampson leans in and pinches part of his neck.

“
Soon
,” the word forcibly
escapes.

“When?” Blovid asks, inching forward.
“Today? Tomorrow?”

“I do not know…” he hisses as Sampson
releases his neck, backing up. “The Supreme has not decided.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure he knows,” Sampson
nods.

“He does
not
,” the Vermix hisses. “He
will know more when we return. Only then shall he make the
arrangements.”

Sampson narrows his eyes at the Vermix. “I
don’t believe you.”

“It is the truth.”

“No…” he shakes his head. “Reuzkimpart knows
what he’s doing. He’s sent you here for a different reason.”

But the Vermix remains silent, battling the
Fychu in a lethal starring contest, trying not to give anything
away.

“Very well,” Sampson exhales. “We will bring
you before Hozfin. You can tell him why you are here, although I
fear he won’t be happy with any reason you have for attacking his
tribe.”

“You are not Zingfinolds.”

“
We
aren’t,” he gestures to Walker
and Tucker, “but they are. And if I understand correctly, that is
cause for immediate death.”

“We are dead regardless.”

“Well, yes…” Sampson agrees. “But whose
fault is that? And really,” he frowns, crossing his arms, “what
were you thinking? Eight of you pitted against a Leader and myself?
Not to mention the others here,” he gestures to Clarence, Qippert,
Jothkore and Vix. “I seriously question the training you all have
been receiving.”

The Vermix spits another few words in his
language.

“There is no need for name calling. If you
tell us what you’re doing here, we might be able to sway Hozfin
into keeping you alive… for a little while longer. Your choice, of
course.”

He hisses out another few words, straining
to get to Sampson.

“Very well. Jothkore?”

“Certainly, Fychu,” he reapplies the whip’s
end around the Vermix’s snout.

“They must be spies,” Blovid looks to
Sampson. “So Reuzkimpart knows what he’s walking into.”

“I do not think so…” he shakes his head. “He
wouldn’t keep them all together—and they certainly wouldn’t have
attacked.”

“Is it because I spotted them?” Jace
asks.

“We had an advantage
because
you saw
them,” Sampson shakes his head, strumming his green beard, “but I
think they still would’ve attacked if you hadn’t. No, they weren’t
sent here as spies. And Reuzkimpart could care less to know what
he’s walking into. He’s still coming for the Floating Ruby,
regardless of what’s waiting for him.”

“Should we take them back now, Fychu?”
Qippert asks.

“Yes,” Sampson nods. “And we need to get Vix
to some Vilbrees. Rogues,” he turns to them, “if you could assist
Jothkore, Qippert and Clarence with the haul?”

The king sits in his throne, eyes narrowed
on the eight bound and kneeling Dofinikes before him. Warze stands
to his right, Walker and Tucker to his left, the entire home filled
with sharp, anxious quiet. It takes about five long minutes after
the Vermix are brought in for King Hozfin to acknowledge them. He
finally inhales, his dark eyes pelting the trespassers.

“What you want?”

The Vermix that Sampson spoke with has his
restraint moved from his snout again. Glaring between all the
Arizals and Zingfinolds, he looks at the king.

“What you have.”

“You come to steal?” Hozfin slams his furry
hand down on the arm of his throne. The vibrations resound through
the entire wooden abode, shaking the walls. “You want steal from
Zingfinolds! You want come to our land—you want take from us?” he
roars, spittle flying as his eyes throb with a hint of insanity. He
settles back into his seat, strumming his fingers on the edge of
his arm rest. “Who sent you steal from Zingfinolds?”

“The Supreme,” the Vermix hisses.

“Who this Supreme?”

“The greatest Dellapalanian Leader—Father
Reuzkimpart.”

Hozfin glances at Sampson and Blovid before
returning focus to the kneeling Vermix. “Where is this
Reuz-kim-part?”

“Dellapalania.”

“Why
he
no come?”

“He will…” the Vermix hisses, “…and he will
conquer everything and everyone here, even you, Zingfinold King.
You will fall at the Supreme’s feet. You do not understand his
power.”

“He will
no
succeed,” Hozfin’s voice
strengthens, his eyes blazing. “Reuzkimpart no understands
my
power.”

Warze moves behind the Vermix and, placing
his hands on both sides of his head, twists hard. The Dofinike
slumps over, crashing to the floor, his blank yellow eyes staring
at nothing. The other Vermix squirm, trying to free themselves, but
Warze does the same thing, dropping them one by one. Once all eight
lay on the ground, unmoving and stiff, Hozfin pegs Sampson with a
hard look.

“Reuzkimpart will no succeed.”

“I agree, King Hozfin,” he steps closer,
“but please, let this be the proof you need that there
will
be an invasion. Reuzkimpart will bring his forces here. He will try
to steal the Floating Ruby. It is his only aim in assaulting your
land.”

“Floating Ruby well hidden. He will no
find.”

Sampson exhales. “I sincerely hope not.”

“Warze,” the King looks to him, “remove
trespassers.”

Warze nods and starts dragging the Vermix
corpses from the king’s home as Sampson approaches Vix, eyeing her
shoulder.

“You need Vilbrees,” he turns to Clarence,
“we’ll bring her back to my home for now.”

“Thank you, Fychu.”

“Fychu,” King Hozfin calls. “You know this
Reuzkimpart?”

“Not well.”

“I do, your Majesty,” Blovid steps forward.
“What would you like to know?”

King Hozfin shifts in his throne. “I seek
private audience with Arizal Leader and Fychu,” he gestures for the
rest of us to leave.

“I’ll tend to Vix,” Clarence whispers to
Sampson, holding back the curtain. We all file outside and
releasing the curtain, Clarence motions to the nearby homes. “It’s
been quite the day so far. Let’s retire for the time being.
Everyone relax, rest… we can reconvene in Tucker’s home for dinner
later.”

Pratt and Mae immediately fly to my side,
surrounding me like a bubble as we make for my home. We’re just
about there when Reid calls behind me.

“Remember,” Pratt turns. “We’re having girl
talk. No boys.”

“I know.”

“He’s always trying to make out with
you.”

“Fallon?” he jogs up to us, glancing at the
other two. “Hey girls.”

“We’re having girl time,” Pratt crosses her
arms. “
No
boys.”

A shadow of a frown crosses his face but he
wipes it clean. “Yeah, sure. Just uh… give me a second alone with
Fallon?”

Pratt raises a brow.

“It’ll be quick,” Reid smirks. “I
promise.”

“Fine…” she lets out a deep sigh, spinning
on her heels, “but after that, no more boys!” She pushes past the
curtain and Mae quickly follows.

He rolls his eyes, moving closer. “So,” he’s
serious now and crossing his arms, he stands with legs apart.
“How’re you doing? You’re okay from earlier?”

“I’m fine.”

“Jace said he saw you and Mae on a branch
with a Vermix?”

“Yeah. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing to
go up. But I didn’t know what else to do. The Vermix were all
around us and—”

“How’d you get away from him?”

“Walker swung me onto another branch.”

Reid winces but the expression washes away
quickly. “And you’re feeling better today, about… everything
else?”

“Yeah, actually. I am.”

“Good,” he steps even closer, nearly pinning
me to the wall. “I was hoping we could have a minute alone, but
uh,” he glances at the curtain over my shoulder, “I guess I was
beaten to it.”

I blush. “Sorry.”

“Um…” he laughs, planting a hand on the wall
next to my head as he uses his free one to scratch the back of his
neck. “You uh… you think girl talk’s going to last all
afternoon?”

“Why?”

He grins, his eyes falling to my lips as he
leans in. My heart takes off like it normally does and slowly, Reid
kisses me. It’s soft, hot and completely melts me to my core. My
knees start to go but I keep myself up, using the wooden wall
behind me for support. Cradling my face in his hands, Reid holds me
to him, prolonging the kiss and gently tugging on my lower lip. I’m
about to fall when he pulls back but keeps our mouths touching,
“How soon’s girl talk going to be over?”

“Later. I don’t…” I’m out of breath, “…I
don’t know when.”

He shuts his eyes, his breath quickening.
Leaning in, he claims my lips again, more urgently this time. I’m
growing dizzy as he moves from my mouth to my jaw, working his way
lower.

“I can’t…” he’s kissing down my throat,
“…not right now.”

His hands slip down my hips to my thighs and
my body jerks.

“Later…” I’m whispering, holding him back by
his shoulders. “Not now…”

“Later?” he looks up, hunger blazing from
his eyes.

My pulse is pounding, my blood boiling from
his touch. I’m not even sure I’m able to stand at this point and
with that look he’s giving me, I’m completely paralyzed. I don’t
know what to do. But he’s waiting for an answer.

I gulp. “Later.”

He rests his forehead against mine, panting.
Another beat and he leans in, kissing me again. “I guess I’ll see
you later, then,” he withdraws with a wink. “Enjoy girl time,” he
spins with a smirk, jetting back down the bridge.

Still trying to catch my breath, I allow my
body a minute to cool down. Every time Reid touches me, I’m on
fire, lost to this reality and trapped in his. Nothing else exists
except the way my body feels, the sound of his voice, the scent of
his skin. And his eyes… I’m a slave to them. When my heart is back
to its normal rhythm, and I’m confident my legs will support me, I
push past the curtain and head inside. Pratt and Mae are sitting on
the edge of my bed.

“Told you he wanted to make out,” Pratt
huffs.

“Wow…” Mae blushes. “Sorry we had to steal
you from that. If you want, we can reschedule—”

“No!” Pratt gripes. “This was supposed to be
girl time!”

“And it is,” I plop on the bed between them,
“and it is
much
needed. Believe me, I need a break from
testosterone.”

“And you’re constantly surrounded by it,”
Pratt laughs. “With Walker and Reid vying for your attention. And
every once in a while Able and Clarence.”

“How are you doing with that?” Mae keeps her
voice soft.

I shrug.

“My mind would be exploding,” Pratt says.
“But it’s really kind of cool, you know. You’re like, an alien
mutt. I think it’s awesome.”

“Thanks,” I laugh. “I’m getting used to the
idea. It’s just a shock,” I glance between the two girls. “I missed
you guys. I feel like we haven’t gotten to talk a lot since I’ve
been back.”

“That’s because we haven’t.”