Page 31 of Triplets for the Barbarians

It’s quiet out there, with the exception of drones buzzing above and the thudding of soldiers’ boots as the guards come closer. My guys know what to do, though, and I have absolute faith in them.

“Who the hell are you?” the guard asks.

“Lieutenants Hass and Kiel. We’ve come back with a gift for Shaytan Hull,” Yossul says. “We received a message from Ruby City yesterday, asking us to pick up a barrel of Keurian wine from the northlands for the general as a thanks for his work. Our superiors figured he’d welcome this treat so he, too, can celebrate the capture of the human whore Jewel.”

“The human… oh,” the guard replies, his voice low. I can almost see him dropping his gaze in shame.

“What’s wrong?” Fadai asks. He must be holding back a grin.

“Nothing. It’s... We may have misplaced the human,” the guard says.

“What do you mean misplaced the human?” Yossul snaps. “What the fuck did you people do? We brought you, Jewel; we brought her all the way into the cells of your command center! We did your work for you!”

The guard exhales sharply. “Hey, man, don’t bite my head off! I don’t know the details yet; I just know she’s gone missing.”

“That explains the increased drone activity,” Fadai says. “How long has she been missing?”

“Almost a day.”

“Shit,” Fadai mutters. “All right, let us through. We’ll deliver this barrel to the command center and join the search as well.”

The guard knocks on my barrel, startling me. I suck in a deep breath, fully aware that he might catch my scent if his senses are sharper than the average Sunnaite’s. “What wine is this, again?”

“Keurian,” Yossul says. “A rare and expensive vintage. The higher-ups have a reserve hidden in Oman Town, six miles north of here. We were instructed to drive over there and bring a barrel of the stuff down here.”

“We’d let you taste it, but the cork is sealed and engraved by the winemaker. If we tap into it, General Hull will realize the wine cask’s been tampered with. We can’t risk it,” Fadai adds. “Come on, man, let us through. We need to join the search and track the bitch down before she gets too far!”

The guard sounds hesitant, nervously circling the barrel. It’s making my stomach churn as I struggle to hold on to this lungful of air. I need him to get farther away so I can breathe before my face turns blue. “I don’t know, we weren’t told you’d be coming.”

“You didn’t even know we’d left,” Yossul scoffs. “Listen, the situation is dire enough as it is. If General Hull hears you turned his wine away while his human prize is also missing, it’ll be your head that falls, not ours.”

“Fine,” the guard says.

I let a breath out ever so slowly as the buggy starts moving again. My barrel is strapped to the back seat while Yossul drives, and Fadai sits in the passenger seat. We make it past the gates and slowly move through the city.

“Are you okay?” Fadai asks in a low voice. I knock on the barrel once to confirm. “Good. We’ll be ready to deploy in about two hours after nightfall.”

“We’re parking the buggy as close to the hangar as possible. The alley should be clear,” Yossul says. “We’ll cover it with a tarp for good measure.”

That’s fine, I tell myself. I’ve sat in darker and tighter places for longer over the years. This is more or less a cakewalk. My joints hurt as I slowly shift my position, trying to get more comfortable while I wait.

The buggy comes to a halt somewhere eerily quiet. We must have reached the alley. I listen to the sounds reverberating around me. I hear Fadai and Yossul getting out. Their boots sound on the cobblestone as they circle the vehicle and double-check our position.

“We’re good,” Fadai says.

They pull the tarp over the buggy. Their receding footsteps echo in the back of my head. They’re going to survey the entire neighborhood to make sure everything else is just as we left it. The hours pass slowly as I wait.

Countless scenarios cross my mind, some of them worse than others. I realize that I used to be a lot more optimistic before—war fatigue is real, and it can warp a soldier’s mind and reasoning over the years.

We’ve been at this for too long. No wonder I’m exhausted.

I try to imagine a future where we’re safe and happy. Fadai and Yossul lead a city of their own on behalf of the Fire Tribe. The Kreek clan is settled perhaps in Emerald City. It’s the prettiest city of them all, in my humble opinion, and their military base is one of the highest ranking in Sunna, even today. I teach engineering and flight at the royal academy, spending my days training future soldiers while the evenings are reserved for fiery lovemaking.

The nights flow by sweetly as Yossul and Fadai share my body and my soul, fucking my brains out until I scream their names and ripple in pure ecstasy. Maybe we’ll have a child or two. Kreek warriors to be, with my gray eyes and their rich, black hair. Or maybe they’ll have red eyes and my brown hair. There’s no telling, given the genetic lottery at play between two different species.

I hold back a laugh as I imagine Yossul and Fadai running after our boys under the warm light of Sunna’s twin suns. They’re teaching the kids how to ride bikes. What a sweet dream to have in this tight and sullen darkness. Something to hope for, I guess.

A knock on the side of my barrel startles me. I gasp and quickly cover my mouth.

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