Page 43 of Phoenix Chosen 3

Airos sets him back into a kneeling position. I sit down in front of him.

“This is some kind of experiment,” he says. “Virtual reality.Westworld. Right? I’m a government guinea pig.”

“Yeah, I thought something like that, too.The Matrix. Hallucinations. Nope. This is all real. You were brought here, just like I was.”

His eyes flick around as he processes what I’ve just said, and then settle on Gral. He sighs. “Abduction then. Never could’ve dreamed aliens would be a bunch of furries.”

For some reason, Circeana has never felt like “another planet,” at least not like what I’ve seen from stuff likeStar Trek. I would bet even the fastest spaceship wouldn’t be able to reach this place from Earth. It exists in an entirely different where and when.

“Kind of,” I say, “but not really. What you need to know is that you’re here for a reason. Both of us were plucked out of our lives and dropped into this reality because we’ve got a role to play. I guess it’s called destiny.”

Behind me, Kalistratos shovels the coins back into their sack.

“Hey, you don’t fucking touch those,” Jackson shouts. “Those are mine, alright?”

“Those were acquired from stolen merchandise,” Gral growls. “Whatever business you have with this man is none of my concern. All I care about is that he sees justice for his crimes.Iwill take him back to Aelonos and see him punished.”

The tiger starts for Jackson, but Airos steps in between them. “We’ll return the stolen merchandise,” he says firmly. “And the coins. Kalistratos?”

Kalistratos hesitates, then lets out a reluctant sigh and tosses the bag to Gral.

“And the money he’s spent? The people he’s hurt? This doesn’t account for everything.”

“Look, I never meant to injure anyone,” Jackson says. “That guy on the cart… I didn’t expect things to go that way, alright? I’m sorry.”

“Hold your tongue, thief.” Gral takes another step forward.

Airos stops him with his palm. “I’m sorry, friend, but we cannot allow you to take this man.”

The air is suddenly tense. I get to my feet. Kalistratos’s hands slowly move to his front, nearing the hilt of his sword.

“I’m pretty sure Markos would be happy just knowing his problem has been solved, right?” I suggest, trying to use my most diplomatic tone. “And that’s all that matters?”

“He will answer for what he did to Agis,” Gral says.

“These past two months have been a fever dream on a deserted island,” Jackson says. “I was doing what I had to do to stay alive. Tell you what? If you just untie me and let some blood back into my arms, I’ll tell you what went down. I swear on my sweet darling grandma that I won’t don’t anything stupid, and if I do, I’m pretty sure either Shere Khan, Magic Mike, or boner Hercules here will put me down faster than my middle school bully.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Magic Mike, free his arms.”

Airos points at himself. “Is that me?”

“Yup, I think that’s you,” I say.

He shrugs and cuts the rope around Jackson’s wrists.

Jackson groans and thrusts his legs out in front of him. “Fuck, sweet relief.” He shoots an angry glare at Airos and rubs the thick red marks indented into his skin. “Somebody keep an eye on this guy. I think he likes tying people up a little too much.”

“Airos,” I say, pointing to him. “And that’s Kalistratos. I’m Tyler.”

“Alright, what about Tigger here?”

“Gral,” he says with a snarl.

“He’s one of the people you’ve been stealing from. That’s why we’re here.”

“Yeah, I know. Giant anthropomorphic tigers ain’t something you see and forget.” Jackson bows his head, still rubbing the rope marks on his wrists. “So… is he okay? Agis, right?”

“His burns were harsh, but he will recover,” Airos says.

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