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  “What did he see?” Varin dreaded the answer but he had to know. “Please, my Mistress was taken there—I have to know!”

  “Your Mistress—was she young or old?” Jorath asked.

  “Young.” Varin’s throat nearly locked up. “Young and so…so innocent.” Though not as much as she had been—Goddess curse the Queen and her insistence on having her own daughter hurt and deflowered!

  “She’ll be taken as a Breeding Queen then,” Jorath said. “Gods, Kindred—I’m sorry. That’s no fit fate for any female, even one that kept you in bondage.”

  “She didn’t keep me in bondage. I love her,” Varin growled. “I’m devoted to her until my last breath—I have to get back to her and save her.”

  “Impossible,” the old Tempath said. “My master tried with a force of thousands and all they got was chopped up and thrown in the Hive’s Flesh Pits for their troubles.”

  “I don’t have an army of thousands—I just have one—me,” Varin said. “And I’m going back no matter what I have to do to get there.”

  “Provided you have the time,” Jorath remarked. “I saw the access port on the small of your back when they dragged you in here, Kindred. How long until you need a new slave chip?”

  “Not long,” Varin admitted. “Which is why I have to get back to Brynn and save her before it’s too late.”

  Jorath shook his balding head.

  “That’s a Kindred, for you. Once you’re bonded to a female you’ll do anything for her—even die.”

  Varin was intrigued. “Are you saying devotion to a chosen female is a trait of my people?”

  “I’d say it’s the defining characteristic.” The Tempath shook his head again. “You’re all damn fools when it comes to women.”

  “I love her,” Varin said again. “And I’m sworn to protect her. I’m going to get out of here and go back to her no matter what I fucking have to do to get there.”

  “Ah, well—the Goddess favors fools. You’re damn lucky we happen to be chained side by side, Kindred…” The Tempath tapped his temple again. “I carry the star charts of four systems up here. I can tell you how to get back to your lady-love Mistress and everything I know about the Hive too. How the hell you get yourself out of here and go seeking after her is your look-out, though.”

  “Thank you,” Varin said roughly. “I am in your debt.”

  “No debt.” Jorath gave him a crooked smile. “I may think you’re a damn fool but that doesn’t mean I’m not a hopeless romantic at heart. With all my knowledge, it’s love I understand the least…and wish to know the most.” He sighed. “Well, then—let me see what I can tell you.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment and Varin saw the strange blue patterns on the old male’s cheeks and temples begin to light up and blink in a complicated pattern. It reminded Varin of a computer accessing information.

  At last Jorath’s faded eyes popped open and he smiled.

  “All right, listen up…”

  * * * * *

  “Will we be there soon?” Brynn asked the strangely silent pilot who was flying her new husband’s ship.

  It felt horrible and wrong to think of Sovereign X'izith that way but there was no way around it—her parents had sold her to him and that was that. She was his wife—or as good as his wife. She assumed there would be some kind of ceremony once they got to his planet—wherever it was.

  Somewhere in another sector, she thought dully. She didn’t even remember the name of the world that would be her new home—nor did she particularly care. She was going there alone, without Varin. And it wasn’t like she could imagine him somewhere else safe without her. He was…was…

  She couldn’t make her mind think the word and she certainly couldn’t say it out loud. She kept hearing her mother’s voice in her ear saying, “You signed his death warrant yourself.”

  I shouldn’t have kissed him—shouldn’t have touched him at all. But she’d just been through a horrible, traumatic experience—she was in pain, wounded inside and out. And it was the last time she would see him. She hadn’t been able to help herself—she’d had to hug him, to tell him how she felt. That she loved him…

  My love got him killed, she thought, at last admitting what was in the back of her brain. I killed him by loving him. It’s my fault he’s gone. My fault he’s dead…

  Because he certainly was at this point. She had been traveling for over a solar week now, give or take. The ship had a hyperdrive—that much she had ascertained by asking over and over until one of the crew finally answered her. But apparently not a very fast one. And even with faster-than-light technology, the vast distances of space took time to cross.

  Oh Varin…my Kindred…it’s my fault, what happened to you! All my fault! They never should have bonded you to me and branded you with my name. Your destiny was death and all because of me.

  The thought made her want to weep—to wail and cry and sit in a corner and give up. But that was pretty much all she’d been doing for the two whole weeks they had been traveling. Brynn just felt heavy now—all cried out and weary past the point of despair. She had only come wandering up to the cockpit because she didn’t know what else to do with herself.

  With a sigh, she decided to ask her question one more time. If the captain didn’t answer, she would go back to her cold metal corner and try to let sleep take her. It was the only relief she had although even in her sleep she dreamed of Varin—dreams which could not be true, she was certain, since in them she saw him still alive and well.

  “Are we almost there?” she asked again, looking at the silent captain who was working the controls. “Can you answer me? Please?”

  At last her question seemed to penetrate. “Our destination…is very near. Just through…the Nebulon worm hole. Please…strap down…for interstellar travel.”

  He spoke in a halting monotone, as did all the crew, never looking at her and never changing his tone. Brynn wondered for the thousandth time what was wrong with him and how Sovereign X'izith had managed to find a whole crew of such zombies to run his ship.

  At least he’s not on the ship with me, she thought and shivered. She was more than glad that she’d taken this journey alone instead of with her husband-to-be. She couldn’t bear the thought of those hot, filthy hands on her skin again. Just the idea of what she might have to endure once she was reunited with her new spouse made her wonder why she cared about reaching her ultimate destination at all.

  I wish I was back on Galen with Varin, having one of our long talks, she thought miserably. But that part of her life was over—it was never coming back. Varin was gone and the past was the past.

  Sighing heavily, she went to strap herself down to one of the blast couches. The thought occurred to her that she shouldn’t strap down—that she should let the intense g-forces and turbulence of the worm-hole travel batter her against the metal sides of the ship. Maybe it would even kill her.

  For a moment, her hands hesitated on the buckles. Would it be so bad? Maybe she could be with Varin if she died…

  But then something made her fasten herself to the couch anyway. I guess I must want to live, she thought with dull surprise. Why is that? What is there left to live for?

  Brynn didn’t know. She closed her eyes as the ship entered the worm hole and let the g-forces press her down like a giant, invisible heavy hand. What was the point of anything anymore?

  Chapter Twenty

  “Now’s your chance,” Jorath hissed. “We’re docked on Helion Gamma. In the next few minutes the slavers will decide which of us to sell. Except for me, of course. I’m bound for Remax Six so my new master can make use of the maps I carry.”

  There was pride in the Tempath’s voice, Varin thought. Pride he had felt himself—the pride of a useful slave—one his master or mistress cannot do without.

  The Princess can’t do without me, he thought grimly. Not if she’s going to survive. He just hoped he wasn’t too late—he’d already been traveling in the wrong direction for a
standard week. Fortunately, Jorath’s interstellar maps indicated a stable wormhole not far from the Helion system that dumped out close to Zhymur. All he had to do was steal a ship and head right for it. He’d be there in no time—if he could just get out of here.

  He thanked all the Gods that ever were that piloting had been part of his training. His obedience band and slave chip had put his loyalty above reproach and the King had thought he might have to take the Princess to different functions around Galen. So piloting and Arena fighting, had been his two main courses of study while he waited for Brynn’s eighteenth birthday and her return to the royal palace.

  Of course, that was before the King and Queen had decided the Crown Prince was the only heir they needed and Brynn was a disappointment fit only to be sold off to the highest bidder, Varin thought bitterly. Those bastards, they deserved…

  They’re getting everything they deserve and a whole lot more, whispered a grim little voice in his head.

  Varin felt his stomach knot and knew the voice was right. According to the information Jorath possessed, once the Hive decided to harvest a world, the decimation was systematic and complete. The King and Queen who had bought him and had him trained before selling him and betraying their only daughter were probably both dead now, rotting in the flesh pits or digesting in the gullets of the Hive workers. The Crown Prince too—and all the people on Galen. He thought of friends and rivals, other slaves as well as commoners. They were all gone now…all dead.

  And Brynn is going to be dead too if you don’t get out of here. Come on, Varin—get ready!

  Closing his eyes all but a slit, he watched the door, pretending to be asleep. Soon enough, he heard boots on the metal floor and the door swung open, revealing one of the slavers.

  It was a slizix, as its green skin and four arms attested. Slitted reptilian eyes surveyed the room and Varin held his breath, waiting to see if he would be chosen.

  Jorath had briefed him on the ways of the slavers—a cautious crew by his account.

  “They view us remotely first,” he’d told Varin. “To make sure everything is right before sending one of their own number in to unlock the slaves they want. But he’s not the one that unlocks the titano-silver cuffs—oh, no—that’s also done by remote. So until he gives the word, your cuff stays on. And they don’t unlock the cuff until the one chosen to come do the dirty work puts the pain collar on you.”

  Varin had had enough of pain collars to last him a lifetime. The thick black collar he’d worn his last night at the palace had been taken off—presumably because it was expensive. He could almost hear the Queen demanding that the collar be removed—that he was out cold anyway and the pain collar wasn’t included in the package. He was glad to have it off—and he didn’t intend to put on another one or let anyone else put one on him.

  He eyed the slizix slaver, his eyes automatically searching for and finding weak spots.

  Only one weapon—a blaster in the left top hand, whispered the little voice in his brain. The other three hands are filled with pain collars and something that must be a remote—they must plan to sell a lot. He’s favoring his right leg—maybe an old injury? Have to watch out for the tail—they use them like a fifth arm.

  However, the tail could also be a weak spot. There was a little smooth patch on the underside that was extremely sensitive and could be leveraged as a pressure point—if you could get to it.

  Varin was glad, now, that he’d had the opportunity to fight one of these big bastards in the Arena once. They were challenging but not impossible to beat and he intended to beat this one, take his blaster, and get the Seven Hells off the slave ship.

  He watched the slaver, moving around the hold where at least fifty other slaves were chained, talking in his hissing language to the others in his crew who hissed back over the comlink. Varin had never studied slizix but he was gifted with languages and had picked up quite a bit as he prepared for his match against one of the scaly, reptilian creatures in the Arena.

  Every once in a while the slaver would stop in front of a slave and confer with his shipmates. After a hissing conversation via the overhead comlink, he would either move on or stoop down to fasten a slave collar around the chosen slave’s neck with two of his four hands while holding the blaster on him with a third.

  As soon as the collar was on, the slaver pressed his remote, held in the fourth hand, to activate the collar and waited until the slave rose obediently to a crouching position. Then he hissed to his shipmates again.

  Only then did the titano-silver cuff unlock and the slave was sent to stand in line with the other slaves, which were all frozen in place by the collars they wore, just as Varin had been frozen the night before.

  If he picks me, he’ll stoop down to put on the collar, Varin told himself. That’s the time to act.

  But what if he wasn’t chosen? Jorath had said that the next stop the slaver ship was making was at Remax Six—another six standard months in the wrong direction. If he didn’t get off here and start heading back towards Zhymur, Brynn was as good as dead. Of course, she might be dead already but Varin refused to let himself entertain that thought.

  She’s not dead, he told himself fiercely. She’s not dead and I’m going to get her—going to save her before it’s too late!

  At last the scaly green feet of the slaver came to a stop before him. Varin made a little snoring sound and shifted, as though moving in his sleep. Best to put the slaver off his guard.

  “A strong one, this one. Trained for personal service or Arena fighting, so said she who sold him,” he heard the slizix hiss. “Shall we put him up for sale?”

  “Negative,” the comlink hissed back. “Remax Six has a bigger fighting circuit than any in the Helion system. He will sell for more there.”

  “But his slave chip needs to be replaced soon,” the slizix objected, still eyeing Varin critically. “There are none for sale here and the Queen of Galen only gave us one when she sold him to us. We should sell him here before he expires and we lose our investment.”

  “The chips are easy enough to replace,” hissed the voice on the comlink. “Even a med-droid can do it. He should survive the change easily. Keep him to sell on Remax Six.”

  “Very well.” The slizix slaver straightened up and Varin saw that his chance was almost gone.

  It was now or never.

  Heart pounding, he waited for the slaver to take a step, then shot out his foot and tripped him.

  The slizix, who had clearly been fooled into thinking he was asleep, was caught off guard. He stumbled heavily and went down on one knee, vulnerable for just a moment.

  Quick as a flash, Varin reached with his right hand and caught the slaver by his long, scaly green tail. He felt the underside, his fingers probing until he found the smooth patch he’d been looking for. He took a good grip and squeezed ruthlessly.

  “Aiiiaaaiii!” screamed the slaver and began to writhe and jerk crazily, trying to get free. The other slaves—the ones who weren’t frozen—began shouting and cursing and laughing but Varin ignored them all. He held on tight to the thrashing tail. Probing this spot was like grabbing a humanoid by his balls and twisting. He intended to use it to his advantage.

  “The blaster,” he hissed in slizix. “Give it to me!”

  He barely even had to ask. The slaver’s grip on his weapon was already loose as he thrashed around, trying to get free. He dropped it into Varin’s lap and moaned.

  “There! Now let me go—let me go!”

  Varin did, but only to scoop up the blaster. He would have liked to hold the blaster in his left hand and keep hold of the slaver’s tail with his right but the chain was too short—his left had was effectively useless in this situation.

  The minute he had the blaster, he pointed it at the writhing slaver and looked up at the black comlink on the wall.

  “Unlock my manacle and let me go free,” he ordered in slizix. “But first bring me the slave chip.”

  “Never!” The comlink hisse
d back. “We do not release slaves.”

  “The this one will die.” Varin rammed the pointed end of the blaster into the base of the slizix slaver’s spine. “I don’t want to kill him but I will if I have to.”

  “Kill him then,” was the instant reply. “He knew the risks going in—we do not yield to threats.”

  For a moment Varin didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t counted on the slavers being such ruthless bastards they wouldn’t let him go, even to save one of their own. The wounded slizix lay whimpering on the floor—clearly he had given up hope and was preparing to die. That more than anything decided Varin that the other slizix were telling the truth—they really would let him kill the other slaver before they would let him go.

  Have to get myself out of this then.

  He studied the titano-silver band and the chain linked to it.

  “Don’t try it, lad,” Jorath muttered to him. “Nothing cuts through that stuff. And the ricochet—“

  But Varin was already taking careful aim at the chain and pulling the blaster’s trigger.

  There was a blinding flash of light and another agonized scream from the slaver, who now had a smoking hole in his sensitive tail. The blaster beam had ricocheted off the smooth metal wall and gone wild. The chain hooking Varin to the manacle was, unfortunately, completely intact.

  “Give it up, lad,” Jorath advised in a low voice. “You did your best but there’s no way out! If you stop now, they might still let you live. I think they paid a pretty penny for you—they’ll want to see a return on their investment.”

  “No,” Varin growled. He looked again at the chain and manacle holding him to the wall. The metal was all completely invulnerable—he couldn’t cut it or melt it with the blaster because the super strong alloy wouldn’t melt or break.

  But there was one vulnerable place—one area that could be cut if he wanted his freedom badly enough. If he wanted to save Brynn.

  I have to, he thought. His own words came back to him—his promise to bear any pain, to do anything necessary to protect her. His vow—the one he had given when he was first bonded to her as a baby—was being called into question. Would he be found worthy…or wanting?