Page 49 of Captured By the Dragon Warlord
“I don’t like being a damsel in distress,” Lydia grumbles.
“None of us do, but until we get our hands on their laser guns, we’re all damsels,” Rosalie says.
“The Sarkarnii will not give you weapons,” Cestapal says.
Everyone looks at her.
“They fear females,” the little Paralnyi says. “They think you will bite them and envenomate them.”
“There are parts of a Sarkarnii I would bite.” Maggie releases a dirty chuckle Sid James would be proud of.
“Bloody hell, Maggie…” Lydia raises her eyes to the ceiling.
“What?” She adopts an air of filthy innocence. “I’ve seen you look too,Lydia.”
“When there are bare bumseverywhere, where am I supposed to look,Maggie?” she retorts.
Maggie grins. “Now you’re getting it,” she says.
Lydia throws a cushion at her head.
Good to see they’re getting on.
“Have any of you seen one of these on your travels?” I hold out the steel-colored tube.
Lydia reaches out for it. I put it in her hand.
“Careful. Apparently it contains something called paraxio. It’s a narcotic which affects the Sarkarnii.”
“I didn’t think anything much affected those big beasts,” Rosalie says. “Save for that horrible alcoholic drink they have.”
“Have you met Lord Dante?” Cestapal splutters. “He’s the very definition of narcotics.”
“Not yet. We only got here in the last few hours. His warriors said he was on a mission.” Lydia shrugs.
“He was in the mines with Dexx and me. He was the one who told us what this is…sort of.” I point to the tube which Lydia is studying.
“I’ve not seen anything like that,” Rosalie says, “but then so much stuff is new, I probably wouldn’t remember.”
“Send a picture to Kerra. Get her to ask Darax,” Maggie suggests, waving her comm device. “These take photos too.”
“They do?”
“Maggie uses it to curate a bum gallery,” Rosalie says with a long suffering sigh.
“It’s going to be my new business venture when we get back to Earth.” Maggie laughs. “A Sarkarnii bum gallery.”
“Good luck with all of that.” I laugh.
“I think…” Lydia is still staring at the tube. “I don’t know, Scarlett. There’s so much scrambling gone on in my brain. Maybe I’ve seen one, maybe not.” She sighs.
“Perhaps I can help,” Cestapal says. “My species has an ability to calm fractious thoughts and help recover memories.”
“Do all raccoons have this ability?” Rosalie stares at Cestapal like she’s grown a second head. “Because if so, I think we should have been told.”
“I am not a rack-oon,” Cestapal says with almost practiced weariness. “I amParalnyi.”
“You called her a raccoon too, didn’t you?” Maggie says to me in a loud whisper.
