Page 281 of Scorching the Alien Empire
Then—“Lexie...”
A whisper. Familiar. Slithering down my spine like iced regret.
I turn. And there she is.Sandra.
My face wrinkles like I stepped on lemon-flavored poop.
“What do you want,Sandra?” I spit her name like a stinky curse. “Or should I say: Double agent Red Squirrel?”
“Please, Lexie, just listen,” Sandra says, palms raised like I’m holding a Todd-shaped crossbow. “I’m not an... agent. I’m still your friend... remember?”
This nonsense again?
“Wait a minute...” I gasp dramatically, pointing. “I know whatthisis. You’re switching sides, huh? Because your precious Cringe-Eyes guts are about to paint the town green?” I jab a finger, “Admit it. You backed the wrong taxi.”
“I’m not onanyone’sside!” Sandra snaps, voice cracking. “I just want this madness to end before they kill each other!”
“Oh, yeah? Funny. Krogoth’s the one who’s fading faster than cheap nail polish.” I grin, seeing my Dracoth hammering Krogoth Splutter-Lungs into the ground like acondemned signpost. “Andhereyou are, begging me—not Bitch Brick—to stop the fight? Really, Sandra? Really?”
“Ididask her!” she cries, freckles standing at full alert. “But she said Krogoth forbade her from interfering no matter what. Said it’s about Klendathian honor.”
“Sounds like athemproblem,” I snort, shrugging. “Besides, you two are so obvious. If I had a mocha right now, I’d be snorting it through my nose.” I sigh, wistfully. “I mean, she’s clearly brain-slimed you into coming here to sabotage me.”
“For the last time—” Sandra groans, fingers clenching like she’s gearing up for her own death duel. “I AM. NOT. MIND. CONTROLLED.”
I grimace, unimpressed. “That’sexactlywhat a mind-controlled brain-puppet would say.”
I turn back to the arena, done with this conversation. Dracoth towers over Krogoth like Mount Sexy about to erupt. Krogoth looks like the last bruised banana in a school gym bag.
Then—madness.
DracothtossesKrogoth Battered-Banana his breathing mask thingy and spear.
My heart stops. Time freezes. My mouth is a vacuum, inhaling ash flakes like an industrial hover.
“WHAT. THE. FUCK. Are you doing?!” I scream, staring at Dracoth like he’s just peed on the Mona Lisa.
But he can’t hear me—no one can. I’m just one voice lost in a million-billion gasps, cheers, and grunts.
“Take it. I will not have it said, Krogoth Star-Eyes was undone by ash. But by Dracoth, son of Gorexius!” He roars like the God of overconfidence.
“He bringshonorto us all with this act.” Peacock Big-Chief murmurs reverently, chin lifted like he’s just solved world peace with a feather boa.
Wonderful! The only guy here who hates Krogoth more than me is now all doe-eyed and proud. But honor’s not going to conquer the Lexie-verse, is it?
I glance around at the towering bone-through-the-nose masses. Every one of them peacock proud. Even the space-knights fromourclan look like they just won a raffle. They’re mad. All of them. Barking. Should be locked in a moon asylum.
My Lexie-Moth Victory Parade nose-dives into a kamikaze tailspin assaulting my stomach. This reeks of stinky, month-old vegetables—the dollar store perfume of Bitch Brick. I see her and my breath catches. Barely visible from this distance... her eyes—wafting purple, hazel smog into the air.
Wait. Wait. Did she do something? Using her brain parasites on Dracoth?
Todd—as always—holds the key. I examine his sleeping, rubbery back. The silvermirrorrune pulses faintly—not the blinding nightlight when she’s screeching incantations. And I didn’t hear her shrill voice... but still I can’t shake the sense the cheater-bitch has done something sneaky. I mean, if the Croc’s fit?
Krogoth’s eyes burn too—same color. Violet, hazel storms. And... gods, he looksbigger. Scarier. Like he just hit a second puberty but angrier and more homicidal.
He dashes forward—lightning incarnate. My eyes can’t follow. My stomach plummets to my boots.
No.
