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“Not an insult,” Xanthos says. “Just anobservation.”
He’s taunting us. I’m not sure if this is just the way Hyperboreans communicate or if Fiona did something to offend him at their last meeting. I have to assume it’s the latter.
“We’re eager to establish peace between our peoples,” I cut in. “I understand that Lamia’s actions on Homeworld have been less than lucrative.”
“Lamia is much like your Merati friend here,” Xanthos says. “A Borean pretending to be something else. She drinksourElixir, but plays by Merati rules.”
“A Borean magister who refuses to engage in commerce isn’t really a Borean at all, right?” I say. “It’s shameful.”
He turns with a nod of his head, his black eyes looking almost liquid in the light of the glow lamp. But before I can continue, Fiona’s voice rings out.
“A little hypocritical to use slave labor when you claim to be all about the free market, isn’t it?”
This woman is going to kill me.
Perhaps literally.
“Sofunny, your princess,” Xanthos chuckles. “They aren’t slaves, human. They’re indentured servants; they work to pay a debt to the Hyperborean Empire.”
“For what?” I say. “What could possibly cost so much that they die down there working?”
“Liberation,” he says with a silver smile. “From their primitive worlds, of course. We’ve given them a great gift.”
Ryker’s chest rumbles, and I shoot a glare in his direction. Our eyes meet and he cuts himself off…but I get the impression he didn’t even intend on making that sound. He must be feeding off Fiona’s anger.
And she is certainlyangry.
“Do you really think they wanted to come here, when you’re such monsters?” Fiona says. She’s done away with any sense of diplomacy at this point; now she’s just insulting him. My heart races, and I feel like I need to escape, torun… “I saw people down there that were frozen to death, andterrified. That isn’t a gift, you fucking asshole. It’s murder.”
“I’ve never laid a hand on an indenture,” Xanthos says, seemingly unbothered by Fiona’s outburst. “You just don’t understand our ways, little girl.”
This isn’t a negotiation.
It hits me all at once—Xanthos’ calm, the two silent guards, the dark corridor. He’s just toying with us, trying to distract us.
We were such fools.
This is atrap.
I grab Fiona’s arm, my eyes wide. “Something is wrong,” I say, then I look at Orion and Aramis. “Get us out of here.”
“I don’t think so,” Xanthos says.
He turns around, and it’s only then that I hear shuffling footsteps in the darkness and see another set of glittering eyes. I start to breathe harder, even though I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Because this is a gamble: if he fails to kill each and every one of us, he’ll have made a permanent enemy of Triton. And if he doesn’t catchanyof us…Fiona is coming for him next.
“You see,” he says. “Lamia will buy virtually nothing from us, but there is one thing she wants more than anything and will payanyprice for. And if I deliver your head…she’s agreed to share in the rich Elixir veins of Homeworld.”
“This will destroy your relationship with the rest of the Merati Kingdom,” I say. “You’re a fool if you do this. Cressida will send her armies after you.”
“Not if Lamia kills her first,” Xanthos says, and then holds out his hands in preparation for an attack. “Now…surrender your weapons. I’m taking you prisoner.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
RYKER
The Skoll are mighty warriors—everyone in the Alpha Worlds knows that. But what not everyone knows is that my people have a special skill. When our mate is threatened, our bodies change, adrenaline turning us into raging beasts.
And as the others continue to try talking their way out, something begins to happen.
