Page 66 of Baited

Rych snorts. Then he laughs, shaking his head.

“Out of all of us, you finding a mate seemed highly unlikely.” He puts his hand on my shoulder.

I don’t flinch, which surprises me. Although it’s possible it surprises Rych more.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” he says. “The procurator is a cruel master.”

“We are not slaves,” I reply quietly.

“We might as well be,” Rych replies, getting unsteadily to his feet using me as leverage. “I hate Sartak.”

“I hate everything.”

“I know. Which is why I liked you better when you had your mate.”

He holds out his arm to me. I grasp it as he pulls me upright. We sway together for a few nova-seconds, wings flaring as the planet spins around us. Our systems attempting to process the narcotic we were given.

“I can’t be away from her,” I say as the revolving slows, then stops. “I need her, Rych. It hurts in here”—I put my hand over my abdomen—“because she is not by my side.”

Rych’s jaw hardens. “Then you need to get back to her.”

“I know.”

“We’ll find a way, Blayn.” He studies me. “But a way with preferably more pleasant narcotics than the one we’ve been dosed with.” He gives me a grin.

With a click, one wall to our room slides away, and a large Habosu, covered in armor and bristling with a pulsar and a psi-whip, blocks the opening.

Rych and I look at each other.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“I think Sartak doesn’t understand what they have taken on,” I reply.

With a bellow, we both charge at the Habosu, who tumbles back as we trample over him and out into an open air training arena.

“Are they kidding?” Rych says, looking up, as more Habosu appear with weapons.

“They think they have an advantage in numbers,” I growl. “They do not.”

I launch myself up into the air. With the drug still in my system, it’s clear flying is going to be hard work. I hear pulsars firing, but given no bolts hit me, I’m guessing they don’t want to damage us too much. Rising higher and higher, I see the unmistakable shimmer of a forcefield dome.

There is no escape from this place.

There is only the fight.

And if they want a fight from me, I will provide it.

Down below, Rych is snarling up a storm, his claws fully extended as three Habosu attempt to…fight with him? It’s difficult to tell what they’re trying to do. The rest are staring up at me, so I dive down, swinging left and right as they lumber around, bowling five over and grabbing a couple of psi-whips in the process.

I throw one to Rych and his Habosu backs off.

“What the vrex is going on?” I query, landing and shaking out my feathers.

“Gladiators.” A voice booms out of the darkened tunnel entrance to the arena. “You will stand down or prepare to be caged.”

“Where have we heard that before?” Rych says, flicking his whip.

“Every vrexing time I’m in the undercroft,” I grumble.

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