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Aside from his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, Vintor did a phenomenal job of maintaining the somewhat disgruntled expression he had displayed when we first walked up to the table by his side.
“Of course I do,” he replied, matter-of-factly.
“This place, this entire meeting is a trap,” I continued, my heart pounding as I forced myself not to glance around in search of anyone potentially spying on us, as that specific behavior would bring suspicion unto me. “Deimos is the killer.”
This time, Vintor didn’t fully manage to hide a slight recoil. It had been discreet enough not to draw attention, and I couldn’t blame him for it. I wanted to believe that, in a similar situation, I could have shown the same level of stoicism after such a massive bomb had been dropped on me.
Leaning my hip against the side of the table to look even more casual, I flicked my hair over my shoulder with my free hand and took a sip of my drink before resuming talking.
“He has held me, the Braxian prince, and his men prisoners for the past eleven days. These meetings are not meant to provide us with information about a potential relocation to Braxia, but to brainwash us into becoming their puppets.”
This turned out to be one bomb too many for Vintor to handle. He shook his head in disbelief and cast a questioning look at Jaek, laced with a sliver of outrage.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Vintor asked.
Thankfully, he didn’t do so in a way that would reveal something might be amiss. While he didn’t believe what I had said, he had sense enough not to put us in danger if it was actually true. Having spent their youths fighting for survival, hybrids never excluded the possibility that any situation could potentially be dangerous.
Jaek shook his head and smiled as if he had just made a wonderful announcement to an old friend. “I wish it was a joke. As we speak, Keran and his men are trying to escape to join us here. Deimos intends for all of us to leave with him tonight. Once we do, he will milk all of you of your hormones to create his mind controlling serum. And he plans for me to perfect that serum.”
This time, Vintor’s disbelief wavered but didn’t fully collapse. He frowned and cast a pensive look around the room. He suddenly smiled and nodded at one of our friends waving at him. We also smiled and waved before returning our attention to Vintor.
“We do not have much time,” Jaek said in a low but pressing tone. “You’ve been made to forget the brainwashing sessions you’ve been subjected to. But here’s a simple test. Would you hate a species you have never met and that has never wronged you?”
“Of course not,” he said with a shrug.
“Then why do you hate Korletheans?” Jaek deadpanned.
Vintor stared at Jaek, robbed of words. Under different circumstances, his stunned expression would have been hilarious. It took a lot to render Vintor speechless.
“Deimos made you hate them because they are the Sarenians’ sworn enemies. He wants to use us to wipe them out,” I said in a gentle voice.
“But how? We’re immune!” Vintor hissed in a hushed tone.
I merely raised my glass to show it to him as if in a cheer then took a sip.
“Relax,” Jaek added quickly. “This one is safe. I tampered with it before the meeting. I, too, have been his prisoner for the past eleven days. He thinks we’re still under his thrall, and we must keep it that way.”
“Understood,” Vintor replied, a hard glint shining in his eyes although his facial expression remained peaceful in appearance.
“You must be discreet and spread the word,” Jaek said. “Tell everyone to be on their guard but do not attack until either Dawn or I give the signal. If at all possible, spare Nirkon. We believe he’s also under their thrall.”
He gave a stiff nod and smiled before slapping Jaek’s shoulder. “I’m glad to hear it. You more than anyone deserve it.”
Vintor had spoken those words a little louder, no doubt to make the others believe he was congratulating us on our apparent newfound happiness together. With that, he walked away. Imitating him, we mingled with the others, making the rounds to warn as many people as possible. Through it all, the training they had received at Jardan’s hand shone bright. Despite this shocking revelation, they all remained stoic, as proper security guards should whatever circumstances or crisis they ended up facing.
Time flew by much too fast. For the first time, I wished the hybrids would have dragged their feet and shown up late as they often did back when I held information meetings in Genxia. But everyone was already here, the last stragglers entering the room with still at least five minutes to spare before the scheduled start of the meeting. And still no signs of Keran and his men.
The sudden hush which descended over the room startled me. Seeing every head turn towards the entrance piqued my curiosity. Of all the things I had expected, witnessing two dozen armed Guldans barge in with at least five or six Sarenians in their midst had my blood turning to ice.
Have they caught Keran? Did they overhear us spreading the word?
To my dismay—and despite it being in character for him—Vintor stepped forward with a displeased expression on his face.
“What’s going on? What is the meaning of this?” he asked, waving at the newcomers. “Why so many armed Guldans?”
Apparently unfazed by being thus called out, the Guldans and Sarenians merely stared at Vintor, their faces unreadable, while the other hybrids nodded or grunted in support of Vintor’s questions.
“It’s okay! All is fine!” Nirkon exclaimed while pushing his way through the crowd to stand in front of the Guldans and Sarenians. “They are here to serve as team leaders for those of you who will choose to relocate to Braxia tonight. You will continue your training with them in smaller groups with a greater focus on your individual needs. Do not be troubled by their weapons. This is the standard equipment and attire that you will wear as part of your roles in Magnar Gavin’s royal guard. Please, there’s no need for alarm. All is well.”
