Page 66 of Alien's Eternal Mate

I focused my energy and soared into the air. My hand no longer shook. My stomach didn’t roil with fear. The time had come for action at last, and I had no time to work myself up.

Jark and I both slowed, as if by mutual consent, when we neared each other. We hovered some ten feet apart, slowly circling in the sunset sky.

“You are not Zey.”

His voice caught me off guard. It sounded worn, haggard to my ears. And much older than I had expected.

“I am the new Peace Chief, Gro. My sincerest apologies.”

His face screwed up in confusion.

“Your apologies for what?”

“For the fact you no longer face an infirm, old man but a warrior in his prime.”

His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

“You will fall, regardless. All fall before the might of Grhoma Jark.”

He came forward, but not in a rush. Jark inched forward, spear leading the way. The metal of his weapon gleamed with a familiar green glint. I realized now that it had been forged of the same metal as the Precursor ship upon which Starlost village had been founded.

Jark gave a couple of probing, exploratory thrusts. I batted them aside with ease, unable to believe he relied upon such basic, simple attacks.

My opponent withdrew, then came in with his legs thrust behind him, presenting a smaller target to my counter attacks. Again, I easily parried his blows. He hadn’t put much emphasis behind them.

Confidence grew within me, blossoming into arrogance.

He is an old man! And a weak old man, at that. He hardly seems the boogeyman I was told to expect.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, the warnings that Pageus issued still clattered around. I knew I should be more cautious, but I launched into an attack combination of my own. Jark managed to parry my strikes, but only barely. A grunt of exertion escaped his lips with every block.

I’m wearing him down! This is too easy!

Convinced now that Jark was no match for the power and speed of Gro’s magnificent body, I pressed the attack. My blows grew faster, harder, and more reckless. Every time I felt as if I werre on the verge of piercing his hide with my spear, however, I struck only a wooden haft, or a ringing steel head.

I chopped down with a two-handed strike. Jark caught the blow on his spear haft. I pressed down, banking on my superior strength.

I forgot one thing, however. We were not standing on the ground, but flying in the sky. Leverage and strength didn’t have the same meanings as they would have on terra firma.

Jark abruptly dropped downward, tilting his body backward with a shocking display of flexibility. I darted forward suddenly, since his spear no longer blocked my path. Jark could not reverse his grip in time to impale me, but the butt of his spear struck hard and deep beneath my ribcage.

The air exploded out of my lungs. I struggled to take in air as one hand clasped my agonized side.

Jark pressed his sudden advantage. With only one hand, I could only partially block his attacks. Fire burned along my arms and shoulders as Jark’s spear slashed me again and again. None of the blows were serious or deep. Not yet.

But I realized my mistake, perhaps too late.

He’s not feeble at all! He’s incredibly fast and strong, and he knows how to fight!

I managed to get my left arm working again, and parried his blows with two hands on the haft. Jark retreated a short distance, a fierce, toothy grin crossing his face.

“You striplings always believe that you’re invincible. Now, I can simply wait for you to bleed out.”

I didn’t think I would bleed out from the shallow gashes, but I did feel a bit weaker for them. I lunged for him, trying to impale him on my spear, but he skimmed out of the way like a waterbug on a pond.

Jark slashed with his spear, the haft whistling through the air. I cried out as it scored a jagged gash along my upper thigh.

“Zey was a fool to send you in his stead. I’ve seen infants who can fly better than you do.”

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