Page 9 of Chained

CLEO

I roll onto my back with a groan. Every single part of me aches after my bout with Maxym yesterday. I thought I was relatively fit, as far as I can be, but obviously not.

I drag myself out of bed, washing and dressing, making sure I’m as well covered as always before I make my way through Retah’s dwelling to the food prep area where Tibi is already clattering around.

The spicy cinnamon smell of joh is the first thing which hits me, and for a second, I think Maxym has somehow followed me here until I get a grip on myself.

“Here.” Tibi shoves a platter at me, filled with sweet pastries, and plonks a cup of the hot drink down next to it. “Get eating. I will be offended if you don’t.”

For once, I’m ravenous, but I’ve been caught out by my body before, so I don’t dive in straight away, instead sipping my joh and nibbling on the flaky sweet treat to ensure my stomach doesn’t immediately reject the tasty food.

Tibi smiles, her tail swaying appreciatively from side to side.

“Did Retah come back last night?” I ask.

“Rolling drunk.” She rolls her green eyes. “He’ll regret that shortly.”

“Why?”

“I set an alarm.” She grins at her own joke.

“Don’t you ever worry he’ll fire you?” I ask. Tibi and Retah’s ongoing practical joke feud is rapidly becoming legendary.

“He’ll never fire me in the same way he’ll never fire you. He likes my food too much, and you’re too good at making order from his chaos.”

“You think? I’m sure he could get a bot to do it.”

“You can’t teach a bot new things or get it to laugh at your terrible jokes,” Tibi says, diving into the oven heater and pulling out a set of fresh rolls. “He likes you, Cleo. You remind him of…”

Before she can finish her sentence, the door bursts open, and Retah half falls in at us both, a silly grin on his face.

“We got it.” He laughs.

“Got what?”

“The contract.” He grabs my hand, pulling me up from the table and spinning me around in a dizzying dance. “We got the dome contract! They want all the weapons we have, especially the blades, and they want us to supply them for the rest of the games season! We did it, Cleo!”

I manage to pull away from his spinning, marveling how he isn’t throwing up, when potentially I could be.

“Despite my little show,” I mutter.

“Oh no, that was genius! Tangling with a Gryn is a surefire way to get the attention of the current procurator. And holding him at sword-point”—Retah giggles like a school kid—“perfection!”

“Then he nearly killed me!”

“Oh, Cleo, he would never have done that. I know Maxym. He’s not been quite right since he had the head injury, but he’d never have hurt you.”

“Youknowhim?” I say, aghast.

“Well, sort of. One of the Sarkarnii I deal with know the Gryn.” Retah spreads his hands out in a conciliatory manner. “And they trust them, so I do.”

“I wouldn’t trust a Gryn,” Tibi says. “Too many feathers.”

I feel like I have whiplash.

“Anyway, I have assurances from the procurator that the Gryn will be kept under strict control while we work there.”

“While we work there? At the dome? Why?” I blurt out.

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