Rhodes glanced my way. “It is the only way to get to Givnia ahead of the battleship carrying Zyair. Presuming, of course, that we survive this next hour.”
“Get it set up,” I told Yani. “You have just over an hour.”
“Plenty of time.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
To Rhodes, I said, “When we get to Givnia, we will need to acquire an actuator. Or we’ll be running from the Nirzks, without shields.”
“Givnia is an international hub,” Xandros rumbled from behind us. “We can blend in there.”
I swerved the ship around another outcropping. “Do their usual visitors include Drakes?”
A hesitation. Then, “No.”
Yani was clearly listening in. “Get us to a market, and I’ll trackdown an actuator,” she said. “I have a feeling you guys will be busy with other things.”
I glanced to the green dots on the navcube. A few of them seemed to be falling in far behind us.
“They are suspicious,” Rhodes confirmed.
I eyed the asteroid belt the device had laid out. The thinner spot was getting closer. “Not long now.”
Rhodes was examining the belt as well. “Is there not a human saying about frying pans and fire…”
21
Zyair
I was no stranger to pain.
As I had been netted before, I recognized my body’s protest to it. I preferred it to what was sure to come.
“I know you are awake, Zyair.”
The dialect was Drakonian, but spoken with a distinct hissing undertone that was pure Nirzkese. I took a deep breath, and opened my eyes.
As the sour, overripe stench hit me, I immediately regretted breathing through my nose. Instead, I sucked air in through my teeth.
I was once again suspended by my arms, but this time in a metal clad room rather than a cage. My wings and tail were strapped down to my body. Keeping my expression deliberately stoic, I sized up my adversary. “Hello, Brentoq.”
She grinned at me, revealing her needle-thin, pointed, feeding fangs. There was nothing about a manticore female that was in the remotest sense visually appealing, and Brentoq was more gruesome than most. Taller than me, and almost as broad, her shoulders rippled with muscle above the scaled bustier.
With her flattened face this close, I witnessed how her pupils contracted both vertically and horizontally, forming an x in the middle of her pale-yellow gaze. Her shaved head sported a single long ponytail of white hair emerging from the top, exposing the thin membranes around her ears.
“I miss the matted look,” I commented. During our last encounter, three deliberately felted tufts had adorned her skull.
She hissed a laugh. “Simplicity is the latest trend.”
“Ponytails are useful for swatting.” I deliberately scanned the air around her. “I am sure your natural body odor attracts a fair share of bugs, even on a ship.”
She did not rise to it. I was sure, however, that I was on her shaftzing battleship.
“I am attractive to many things.” She trailed a claw along my chest while she stroked her other hand over the leather disguising her breasts. It was enhanced with scales…
My gut clenched. Not enhanced—theywerescales. Those on both her bustier and the leggings encasing her huge thighs were reddish gold.
Raptor Clan dragon scales.
I fought to hide my reaction, but she caught it anyway, and her eyes glowed. “Your people make lovely clothing,” she purred. “Maybe when I am done with you, I’ll add you to my wardrobe.”
