Page 45 of Abalim

He had his hands clasped behind his back and strolled as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

She was about to warn him one of the guards was headed their way when the male turned around and went back the way he came. Her mouth fell open as she watched the guard from the opposite direction do the same thing.

Her neck heated. Idiot. She was with a powerful psychic. No need to sneak around. All he had to do was block everybody else’s vision with a flick of his finger. She eyed his clasped hands. Not that he did anything as dramatic as waving his hand around like Obi-Wan Kenobi using the Force.

“Mister Abalim, sir…” The little robot JR15 spoke in a low voice. “I think I should warn you…”

Abalim pushed open the hanging vines and entered the small building.

Lisa was right behind him and almost plowed into his backside when he stopped.

“… the others I sensed in here weren’t just the elders.” With a high-pitched squeal, the spider-shaped robot scurried back to his hiding place under Abalim’s dreadlocks.

Lisa would’ve given anything if she could hide next to the little guy. Tharion’s and Nyvira’s smirks made her nervous as hell. Pinching at the base of her neck had to be the tip of one of the spears the guard behind her carried. She didn’t move as a warm line of blood rolled down her back. Taking a deep breath, she put her trust in Abalim. If, for one minute, he thought their lives were in danger, he’d sic his psychic mojo on them. He had to be stalling to get info. Yeah, that’s what he was doing.

“Ah, yes. Why am I not surprised you’re one of the traitors?” Tharion crowed. He snapped his fingers and glanced at Nyvira. “I told you these foreigners were part of this. Let’s sacrifice them with the rest. This will make this year’s Ritual of Renewal the best in generations! It’ll be sung about for centuries.”

Lisa peeked at Abalim.

The guard leaned into the spear to the back of Abalim’s neck with a gleeful grimace.

But with that long thick hair, she couldn’t tell if blood was drawn or not.

“Yes, yes.” Nyvira waved away her companion’s excitement. “Take them…”

“May I ask a question first?”

Lisa admired Abalim’s relaxed stance. With that nonchalant attitude, she loosened up and did her best to mimic him. Even with crossed arms.

Nyvira put her hands on her trim hips. “What?” She tapped a foot. “I don’t have all day, you know.”

“Why are you forcing the elders to participate?”

Tharion’s mouth dropped open. “How dare you question us!”

Lisa winced at the high-pitched squeal from the guy’s mouth.

“We would all die if the elders didn’t join with the god Echovara!”

“Aren’t you being a little dramatic?” Lisa rolled her eyes. “All would die.” She snorted. “Really?”

“Look around you!” Nyvira gestured with both arms around her. “Everything around us is dying because skeptics like them refuse to give the holy one his due.” She pointed to the roof of the hut.

Lisa squinted and took a closer look. The same black goo on the twigs and leaves in the hut matched the outside plants. Her nose twitched at the rancid smell coming from it.

“But with this offering of younger accolades, our merciful god will halt the spread of death from stalking us. We will save our village for years to come!” Nyvira’s eyes gleamed with fanatical intent.

“I…”

Lisa never heard what Abalim was going to say. Something sizzled at the base of her neck and she passed out.

Head pounding, Abalim groaned and rolled onto his back. He put his arm over his eyes. By the God An, why did he let his brother talk him into trying some new type of liquor again? He swore the last time he did that he’d never let Arakiba manipulate him into doing something he’d regret in the morning. But when they found themselves seven thousand years into Earth’s future as free men, some of the temptations of the modern world were hard to pass up.

But anything that robbed him of his senses’ ability to protect himself went beyond trying new things. A feminine moan next to him jerked him out of his musings and brought him back to reality. “Lisa!”

Ignoring the thundering in his temples, he scooted to where she lay on the hard dirt floor. Her face was paler than normal, and her luscious mouth twisted in a grimace.

He pushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes with a light touch of his fingertips. He searched for her pulse at the side of her neck and breathed a sigh of relief when it was strong and steady. “Lisa, my inkheart. Are you all right?”

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