Page 43 of Shifter King
The youth grinned. "Not like you. You’re...you’re just different. You can’t be from around here."
"Tell me what happens here."
"I’m Phobos by the way. Leader of the Golden Fox Cadre."
He inclined his head forward, then gestured back to the field. "What happens here?"
Phobos raked his hand through his hair. "Um...it’s where they bring the ones that they’re done with. To get the last bits out and sift the sands for ceyden."
"All this technology, and they use Vawtrians?" Efficiency was usually one of the priorities within the Tiablo culture. If Abliatos considered themselves to be the superior evolution of the Tiablos, then surely they would not have abandoned that. Of course, this might be about the efficiency of humiliation rather than mining.
"It’s to stop the Grey Season. Ceyden and whatever they extract out of our blood." Phobos lifted his shoulders, his expression suggesting it was just something he had been told. "But it sure seems to be a good way to get rid of us."
"Seems that way. And what are you doing here then?"
"Two of my cadre are due to be put here tomorrow. Not planning to leave them."
"So you’re going to what?"
"Shift to my best form, make a diversion, and help us escape with my cadre. Want to see?"
He barely nodded before the youth’s body twisted and contorted. His transformation was uneven, cracking and snapping with bursts of energy as he folded in on himself and—
Crespa. He was...just a larger than average fox. "You’re practically the size of a grey wolf," Naatos said. But clearly without a wolf’s biting power. Those jaws couldn't take down a deer without losing at least a tooth or two. Could this be a joke?
"I know. Impressive, right?"
Crespa...this child was serious. No, This was not impressive in the slightest. He weighed his words carefully. "And this is your strongest form?"
Phobos contorted as the form fell away unevenly. Muscles spasms twisted along his body, but he grinned nonetheless as he staggered back. "They’re always shocked I can do a full one and that I’m not really a big golden fox."
"Hmmm."
"Can you turn into a big golden fox?"
"I wouldn’t consider it a form of choice, no."
"Don’t worry about it, friend. Listen, after what they’ve done to us, even being able to change your hair or make claws for yourself is a win. And you look like you’d be all right in a fight."
"This field is a death trap," Naatos continued, refusing to even acknowledge aloud how ridiculous this shifting capability was. "But if that is its purpose, then they have guards present to ensure no one escapes."
"They send the mantises out when everyone’s put in here. Usually two dozen. Not that it’s easy getting out of the sand. And there are at least another dozen on patrol. They’ll herd anyone they catch right in. If you can make it through the end of the day and find enough of the ceyden, you can leave. Otherwise, you stay in the pit. So everyone works as hard as they can to get out."
"Does that happen often?"
"Just about as often as a partial lunar eclipse."
"So where are your people?"
"Outer Processing Terminal 78." He gestured toward the city in the distance. "Only at the outer layer of the barrier, you know."
He didn’t. "And it will be easier to rescue them when they are here, dealing with the sand sharks and grim worms because..."
"Because we’ve got a chance of getting to them." Phobos’s brow creased, his expression suggesting Naatos was insane.
"There are more guards and security measures outside Outer Processing Terminal 78?"
"You really aren’t from around here. When they’re in the outer processing terminals, they’re using them for practice. And if anyone shows up to try to rescue them or stop it, they get used too."
