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We pushed on and hustled down the hall. We hung a left and came to an old door with a thick padlock on it. M’rar Thres removed a long frayed length of string from around his neck. It had a thick key attached to the end.
He slipped it in the lock. It clicked open.
The castle must be old for it to have such security measures, I thought.
M’rar Thres eased the door open. It squeaked on rusty hinges. We hustled inside and shut the door behind us.
Endless racks lined the walls with both ancient and modern weapons. The Titans hastily relieved themselves of their old kitchen knives and simple blaster pistols and replaced them with modern rifles and pump-action grenade launchers. At least, that was what they looked like to me.
Once they were fully stocked and loaded, they turned to Fiath.
“Now we’re going to head for the defense control room,” he said. “We have to get there fast. We’ll try to reprogram them to target the Changelings first but if we can’t, we’ll destroy them. Our Titan brothers and sisters are depending on us. We can do this.”
The soldiers nodded in agreement. We were back out the door again and eased through hallways and opulent rooms.
It struck me as strange so few Changelings were defending the palace. I guess most of them were attacking the Titan army.
We came to a pair of ancient doors that groaned when Fiath and Nus put their shoulders to it and eased it open.
They peered inside and seemed surprised at what they saw.
They shoved the heavy doors open, revealing machines that blinked and whirred, their sights focused on distant Titans in case they wandered within range. The room was empty of Changeling soldiers.
“Where are they?” Nus said.
“Maybe they’re out there fighting,” I said.
But even as I said it, I didn’t believe it. Why would you leave your most valuable resource unprotected?
The blood ran from my face.
“It’s a trap…” I said.
Changelings marched into the room, weapons aimed, but did not open fire. Neither did the Titans. If they did, it would condemn us to death.
“Weapons down,” a battle-scarred Changeling said.
One antenna had been snapped off and he was missing half his eyes.
Fiath lowered his weapons first, placing them on the floor at his feet. The others followed suit.
We’d wandered into their trap. And now the brave Titans fighting on the battlefield were dying in vain.
The Changelings moved forward and relieved the Titans of any knives or small blaster pistols they might have “forgotten.”
Only once the weapons had been removed did a figure in a long flowing robe enter. A team of armor-clad soldiers streamed in and arranged themselves around the edges of the room. I knew nothing about soldiers but even I could tell they were exceptionally well-trained.
Most surprising of all, they were Titans. Their leader was a distinguished looking man with grey at his temples.
Even more surprising was the man in the flowing robe. He too was a Titan, but vastly different in appearance to the others. Where most Titans were thick like tree trunks, he was tall and spindly. Where they were muscled, he was weak and frail.
On his face, he wore an expression I had seen many times. It was the face of someone used to wielding authority over others. Someone who had allowed that power to go to his head.
Fiath had mentioned others who had betrayed him. Chief among them was someone called Slak, his main adviser. It wasn’t hard to imagine this was that person.
“You Titans are so predictable,” he said.
Even his voice sounded slippery with oil. Didn’t he realize he was one of these “predictable Titans” as he called them? I supposed he never considered himself as low as a regular Titan.
