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The guards’ red manes bristled as they bounded into the lavish reception hall, in tune with the blaring alarm vibrating each nook of the royal Xanashi palace. The other intergalactic guests gathered in a frightened mass in the center of the golden room. The Dristorians wobbled a bit on their six hooved feet; they’d drank too much of the famed Xanashi ghin, an odorless, colorless drink that sneaked up on your senses if you took more than two sips.
Everyone in the Nine Galaxies sector knew that.
While the guards yelled and threatened the other guests, Taryn righted himself. Imposing. Unflinching.
It was time for the next stage of the mission.
The alarm would distract the guards while Taryn completed the Quillon assignment.
Zandyr, the famed–and feared–Quillon Ambassador stepped in front of the group, slashing his dark gaze over the guards.
That was Taryn’s cue to disappear into the shadows, which was no easy task, with his Quillon dark horns. But he’d become the best Nines-damned spy Quillon had ever seen, and planned on using all those hard-earned skills for the greater good.
While Zandyr kept the Xanashis’ attention on him, Taryn would “borrow” their secrets.
Zandyr clenched his jaw. “I demand to speak to the Xanashi Ambassador. He still screams until the walls shake, yes? So the entire palace can hear about how you’ve threatened at least five intergalactic heirs.”
Whatever the Xanashi had stuttered to Zandyr, Taryn didn’t hear.
He walked out of the reception hall, as aloof and imposing as he’d been trained to since he could walk. Blue formal robes billowed behind him as he strode into another endless, golden room. This was the official corridor leading toward the docking station, where the Quillon ship waited.
Right before the massive bronze doors leading to the station, where a dozen more Xanashi guards waited, he made a sharp turn to the left.
The alarm was still vibrating the walls. Perfect cover.
He slipped down three more corridors, each smaller and less ornate. By the time he reached the wooden hallways, he was halfway to his real destination.
It was hard to intrude when you were as tall and commanding as Taryn. Those Quillon traits, including the blasted gene which could end him any dann now, made it difficult to blend in.
But he’d found ways to vanish. Make beings forget they’d ever met him. Or, his favorite, getting away with whatever he had to in plain view.
He had a lot of information to obtain whenever he visited another planet and it was much easier when nobody suspected him.
The Xanashi guards had kept their narrowed eyes on Taryn and Zandyr since they’d stepped off the ship. Xanashi and Quillon had a long history of animosity they’d never acted upon, after all.
Nothing another peace treaty couldn’t solve.
Taryn had bumped into the head guard as the envoys had been greeted at the massive entrance. He would have avoided it altogether, but he had to get the key somehow, and it had been hidden and secured to the soldier’s belt.
Now it was hidden in Taryn’s robes.
He stopped just as he reached the corner of the last corridor. It had been chiseled in stone cieclles ago, back when Xanashi craftsmanship was just starting to become famous across the Nine Galaxies.
Someone was breathing harshly. Coming Taryn’s way.
This hallway should have been empty.
Taryn took off the medallion dangling from his neck. It was made of the best gold Quillon had to offer and had his family crest on one side. The other side held something even more valuable, at least in Taryn’s eyes.
He slipped off the invisible disk hidden behind the medallion. He wrapped it between his long fingers and rumpled his tunic. Ran a hand through his long, dark hair, making it look as disheveled as any Quillon could.
Then he stepped forward, almost bumping into a Xanashi guard.
This one was young. Wide-eyed. Held the spear close to his chest.
“Where’s the docking station?” Taryn asked, his voice a bit slurred, even as his gaze traveled along the hall. Twenty doors, all of them closed.
The guard visibly exhaled in relief at seeing what he thought was an intoxicated intergalactic guest. He lowered his weapon.
