Zyair buried his fist in the Tazier’s hair, and yanked his head back. While Rhodes moved to place the rifle muzzle inches from Senaik’s face, his brother demanded, “Where were you taking us?”
Senaik merely snarled at him.
“Givnia,” I offered. “They were taking you to Givnia.”
A complete and utter stillness swept over all three brothers. “Givnia?” spat Xandros.
“It is not a where,” Rhodes stated calmly.
I looked at him in confusion, as Zyair finished the thought.
“It is awho,” he snarled.
I looked from Rhodes to Zyair, seeking to understand. “But the Nirzks are your enemies, aren’t they?”
Zyair released Senaik as though he couldn’t stand to touch him for one more second. “Yes. And there is one who resides on Givnia who would do anything for the opportunity to kill us, slowly.”
“Brentoq.” Rhodes snapped the name. His gaze narrowed as he glared at Senaik. “No Drake would make a deal with a Nirzk.”
“NohonorableDrake,” Xandros interjected.
Zyair paced away, as if his feet were in sync with his thoughts. “How did the Nirzks know that Raptor Clan would be there that day? Azrome had his suspicions. Maybe we now have our answer.”
I looked from him, to Senaik. What was he talking about?
Yani leaned close and whispered. “The battle where Raptor Clan was almost wiped out by the Nirzks.”
My mind raced. Was Zyair implying that they’d been betrayed by Tazier Clan?
He swung in front of Senaik, while Rhodes and Xandros moved to each side, leveling their rifles to point against the Tazier’s skull.
Zyair seized the Drake by the throat and lifted him into the air as though he weighed less than a hedgegopher. The raw strength that it took robbed me of breath.
Senaik hung there, glaring at him.
“Betrayer,” Zyair snarled, bringing his face to within inches of the other. “Only scum would call the Nirzks their allies. You stink like a manticore.”
I’d heard the Nirzks called that before. Manticores were in Earth’s myths too—but I’d never seen a Nirzk, so I didn’t know if there was any connection.
Senaik’s eyes flared, and he answered in their native tongue. It was so rapid-fire that I only understood snippets of the complicated language. Something about the Raptors being a bunch of “sanctimonious do-gooders”, and that someone named Azrome would have brought the Drakes to ruin with his policies. He finished with something along the lines of “their kind being better off with him dead”.
Zyair hit him. Not a talon slash, but a closed fist, full force bash to the face that sent the Tazier flying across the bay.
While Senaik gasped for breath, Zyair dragged him by the wings to the cage and threw him in.
Xandros seemed disappointed, and asked something in Drakonian that I barely grasped—something equivalent to gutting him, but wasn’t up on my Drakonian slice and dice lingo.
“We might need him,” Rhodes replied with reluctance.
“Can we at least rip his balls off?” Xandros complained in English.
“The fact we were destined to be delivered to Brentoq explains why we still have ours,” Rhodes stated in the same language.
Both still had their rifles leveled on the Tazier.
Much as he was letting the Tazier live, Zyair’s green eyes spat fire as he turned tome.
“Are you okay?” His blazing eyes were on my arm, and the blood clearly visible there.
