Page 1 of Fated to the Dragon Warlord

KERRA

“You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” Rosalie drawls at me in a terrible fake American accent as we walk through the stinking service passage.

“I thought you should see how the other half live,” I toss back over my shoulder as we hurry through the conduit. “Your life of luxury was making you soft.”

Rosalie snorts a laugh.

Neither of us have had the opportunity to use a sonic shower in days. I know I smell like an armpit, and I’d apologize to Rosalie if she didn’t smell like one too. Not just any armpit either, an alien armpit, on this ship I thought it would be a good idea to board.

Like we had any other options.

“Don’t touch the wall if you can help it,” I say, my hand hovering a fraction above the wall to our left. I can feel the extreme cold against my skin. “I think it’s the outer hull.”

“Have we ever been in this part ofHMS Stencherprisebefore?” Rosalie asks me.

“I don’t think so. This is a voyage of discovery.” I hurry on, my boots ringing against the metal below our feet.

The one thing which could have made things worse was if I’d been abducted in my jammies…like Rosalie. As it is, I was fully clothed. At least it meant I could give her my coat.

“Boldly going where no one else wants to go,” Rosalie grumbles.

She’s not wrong. We don’t want to be found by the rag-tag bunch of aliens who own this ship because I have my suspicions about their motives, given the number ofinterestingitems in their hold. Rosalie thinks I’m getting space sick when I say I think they’re pirates.

But she doesn’t contradict me about the hiding from the crew part.

Ever since we both escaped from the cage we were being held in like animals, because Rosalie had the foresight to put a bit of fabric in between the elements of the locking mechanism when they threw in our food, we’ve been inseparable.

Rosalie trusts me, and I’m glad to have a friend.

“This way.” I turn a sharp left, following the rudimentary map I drew when we first boarded. “I think there should be some empty cabins or something this way.

“A cabin?” Rosalie squeaks from behind me. “You are really spoiling us.”

It’s my turn to laugh. Cabins usually mean we can get clean, sleep on a bed rather than the floor, and if we’re lucky, the food dispenser might work, although we try not to use them if we can.

The aliens know we’re here. They just haven’t caught us yet. If our luck holds, we’ll get to their next destination and get the hell off this shithole of a ship.

“Ugh, gross,” Rosalie grumbles, as she steps into a pile of goo dripping from the low ceiling above us, ducking and weaving around it. “Why did I think space would beclean?”

“Common misconception. After all, where could all the dirt go?” I reply.

“Currently, it’s all over me. I’m covered in space dirt,” Rosalie replies. “And I was promised champagne and flowers.”

“Here we are.” The conduit comes to an abrupt end, where there is a grating.

I give it a sharp kick, the universal method of dealing with such things, and it pops free.

I gaze at the small hole I’m going to have to go through. It takes nearly everything I have not to vomit, but we need to keep moving and I’ve done this a dozen times now.

Claustrophobia is not fun in space.

Rosalie and I squirm out into a marginally less filthy passage.

“Here.” I point out the door next to us, marked only by some faint paint which might have once been decoration. “Do your magic.”

Rosalie is, by her own admission, a tech nerd, something which has come in handy so far. Especially where doors and cages are concerned.

She clutches her fingers together and stretches them out dramatically in front of her.

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