“I removed it.” Dalox turns away from me, and I see the blood on his hands. “When I found out what had happened.”
For a long time, he does not turn back to me. I feel a wave of heat flow through my body. Dalox is huge. He is growly and scaly. I thought he was going to pull the head off the other Sarkarnii earlier, and I doubt he would have broken a sweat. But here and now, he’s as vulnerable as a human and a creature wracked with grief.
I take his hand gently. “You’ve cut yourself.”
“Occupational hazard. I’ll heal,” Dalox says, his voice low and rasping. “Sarkarnii always heal, unless we don’t.”
I watch with amazement as the cuts on his hand zip themselves closed until all that’s left is the remnants of the blood they spilt.
“That’s incredible.”
“It is, and it isn’t. Our healing ability means we see things maybe we shouldn’t. Certainly once you’ve been alive as long as I,” Dalox rumbles.
I lift my face to his, noting the streaks of grey at his temples, which flow through his jet-black hair, features I gave little thought to, but having seen more of the other Sarkarnii, I realize are not common.
“How old are you?”
He leans down, his face ever closer to mine. “Old enough to know what I want, little mate,” he rasps. “And what I want is you.”
The neutral sector is a maze.Dalox leads me through it, and this time there are no explosions. Instead I see scorch marks where they once happened along with debris from whatever caused them.
“We created this part of the complex after some…issues,” Dalox says as we turn another corner and find a partially destroyed wall. “As Sarkarnii, we will always be stronger together, but being together had its own problems.”
“Someone is a little dynamite happy.” I nod at the destruction. “You?”
“Dante,” he growls. “A creature you will unfortunately meet today. You have my apologies in advance.”
Behind us, I hear a rumble among his warriors. Dalox looks over his shoulder and they go quiet.
“Although my opinion is not shared byeveryone,” he adds. There are a number of quiet snorts and Dalox shakes his head. “Warriors,” he grumbles, becoming less like a warlord and more like a disappointed father.
We reach a vast open area, bordered on all sides by the steel-colored walls and yet more evidence of this Dante and whatever he chooses to do in his downtime. Ahead is a covered entrance which seems to take us down into the bowels of this place. Dalox strides down the ramp, and I have to trot a little to keep up, but that’s partly because I’m distracted by my surroundings.
Alien is not as alien as I thought it would be. Apparently it’s either dusty, or it’s explody. It would be nice if there was some in-between…
Ahead of us, a set of doors slide open.
“Wait for me in the ante-chamber,” Dalox says to his warriors as we enter. “And play nice with the others.”
“We will,” the largest of his warriors says with a fang hitch rather reminiscent of Dalox.
“They’re not going to play nice,” I say as the cohort peels off and enters a separate door behind us.
“They wouldn’t be my warriors if they did,” Dalox responds with a rather similar hitch of his lip.
The casual brutality of this new alien world I’ve found myself in shouldn’t still jar, but it does. From being put in a pit and made to fight for the entertainment of hidden aliens to the Sarkarnii and their hands on approach to managing conflict, the only redeeming factor is the continuity. It’s all about the power and no one is pretending otherwise.
“Let me go first,” Dalox says.
“Be my guest.”
After all, if there’s going to be a scrap, having a vast dragon man between me and the spiky parts isn’t going to be a bad thing.
We enter through another door which unwinds like a camera lens. I’m hit by the scent of food, making my stomach growl in response. Other than the strange cubes I ate many hours ago, I haven’t had anything solid, and it would seem I am hungry.
There’s also the sound of voices, women’s voices, all chattering happily. Alongside the occasional deep boom of Sarkarnii tones.
This is not what I was expecting.
