Page 21 of Chained

Maxym fixes me with a gaze which could cut steel. “No.” His chin drops to his chest. “I do not know who killed him. While I was his slave, I didn’t bear him any ill will. He was even trying to find the rest of my species, to see if I could return.”

“You do know how many criminals say they are innocent, don’t you?” I lay out the last sword.

“I am not innocent,” Maxym growls. “My claws drip with blood, little scrap. From what I was forced to do in the facility before I was sold, to here in the dome. I am the exact opposite of innocent. But I did not kill my master.”

Outside the armory, there are footsteps and rustling which reveals itself to be Klynn. He leans against the wall and watches us.

Maxym sends a growl in his direction.

“Klynn is here while you fit the challengers by order of the captain,” Maxym says. “For your safety,” he adds with a sneer at his colleague.

I have to give silent thanks that he’s not attempting to choke the life out of his colleague at least.

“I don’t have many to fit.” I pull my vid-screen from my pocket and check the list. “Most of the challengers bring their own weapons.”

“And the ones who want ours either can’t afford their own or think using gladiator weapons will give them an advantage.” Maxym eyes the weapons I’ve put out.

“Both will die, regardless,” Klynn says with no emotion.

“Is having you two here really going to keep me safe?” I wonder out loud.

Klynn stalks into the armory, his wing feathers shaking. Maxym unsheathes his claws, the inches long onyx scimitars I saw earlier around the neck of the guard.

I expect there will be violence.

“When we’re given a job to do, we do it,” Klynn says.

Maxym’s wings flare for an instant. “We do?” He queries before slamming the huge appendages against his side. “We do,” he says to me.

I dip my head to hide a smile.

“Okay, well…how about you both stand over there.” I point to an alcove behind where I’ve set up the weapons. “And let me do my job.”

“How about we stand here”—Maxym moves behind the table and folds his arms, where he is joined by Klynn who mirrors his movements—“and do our job.”

I throw my hands up. “Fine! Just let me do what I’m here to do.”

The first challenger, a large lumbering Yetag, his tentacles squirming, enters the armory. He eyes the two Gryn with both fear and interest, and despite the occasional snarl from Maxym, I get him a sword and small handheld trident which he is happy with.

“He must think they’re flooding the dome again,” Klynn says conversationally to Maxym.

“I’ve not heard we’re doing aquatic games.” Maxym inclines his head. “Interesting choice.”

I fit two more challengers, a Habosu who can’t keep his mouth shut but is unable to goad the two Gryn to do anything more than growl at him. He gets a gladius and a dagger. He’s followed by an Oykig who can hardly hold what I hand him, he’s shaking so much.

After each challenger departs, Maxym and Klynn discuss their choices with professional detachment. The situation is weirdly domestic, if domestic involves a room filled with sharp things and a couple of predators who would easily eat you for breakfast.

“That’s all I have for this nova-morning,” I say, checking my list after the second Habosu has left with a stream of insults at the two Gryn, who completely ignore him, instead loudly commenting on his poor choices of weaponry.

Klynn slips away from his position and, without a backwards glance, he’s gone.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Klynn doesn’t do any more than is necessary,” Maxym rasps from directly behind me.

For an enormous winged predator, he can move silently when he wants to. I spin around, and I’m face to face with a muscled abdomen. He curls his hand under my chin and tilts my face up to his.

I should pull away.

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