He made a sound that could only be described as disgust. “Were dishonorable opponents.”
She blinked. Duels were outlawed in Dorsent, but theydidhappen. However, other countries had their own laws. For instance, she had heard that in Ruson, dueling culture was very much alive and well. To act ignobly during one, to deny the challenge, or even to flee were all ways one could be dishonored. Dueling didn’t make what she’d witnessed any less harrowing, but at least there was an explanation for his behavior besides cold-blooded murder.
Except, duels typically only involvedtwopeople and their seconds. Isobel cleared her throat. “It is legal to duel in your country, then?”
He tilted his head. “Legal.”
She wasn’t entirely sure if he was agreeing with her, but she nodded all the same. “I see. And just where are you from? And for that matter, where are we right now?” she added, gesturing to the interior. This was what she really wanted to know.
He looked around the hallway and then back to her. Ignoring her first question, he answered, “This is my ship. Shadowdrifter.”
“Your ship?” She’d been correct to assume the manor-sized objects were vessels of some sort. “So, you sail through water?” But she knew that wasn’t right—and that, as much as she’d tried to apply logic to the events of last night, the answer wasn’t logical at all.
An anticipatory shiver went through her, and the world around her disappeared as her focus narrowed in on the man before her. It was as if she knew what he would say before he said it.
“No, Isobel Nott, I sail the stars.”
Chapter 8
Ved
The short female before him wasn’t scared of him. At least, not anymore. Which was strange. Her species was considerably smaller and weaker. According to Exxo’s calculations, even their most renowned and feared fighters would have difficulty besting a Xaal.
Yet she stood before him wielding only a basket.
“Butwhereare you from? Another planet?” She looked up at him with beautifully rounded eyes that were the warmest shade of brown he’d ever seen. It reminded him of sehga honey and the rich soil that marked the fertile lands of his home. He’d never seen a Xaal with such eyes.
When he’d interacted with her last night, the planet had been dark, and his backup generator had not yet stabilized. But now he could see that her skin was the color of heated bronze—glowing and resplendent. She was bursting with sunlight.
“If you are finishedanalyzing, Qon, you may want to again consider thatby the Interplanetary Accord under section 4.2XJ, she should not be aware of your existence,” Exxo reprimanded, not for the first time.
“Finish your diagnostics,” he growled in his own tongue.
“I know you one-track-minded brutes do not often multi-task, but I, on the other metaphorical hand, can do more than one thing at a time. To include witnessing you salivate—”
Interrupting what would undoubtedly be some brazen declaration from his neurolink, Ved finally answered Isobel Nott. “Runus is my planet.” He paused as the response he wanted to say formed in a language she could understand. At least Exxo was good for that. “And that’s very far from here.”
“And the people whom you killed”—she swallowed hard, her bare throat bobbing and capturing his attention—“you were dueling with them before this happened?”
Ved nodded. “They were from an enemy clan. They fought dishonorably.” The words of her language were muck brew in his mouth, and he felt like he should be whispering them. Xaal languages, like everything else that belonged to them, were made for battle. Full of arson and acid. Violence and venom. Hers was something else entirely.
“I see,” she said, but in such a way that made Ved think she did anything but.
The natives of this planet were not inherently warriors. Not in the way his species was. This female had never known bloodshed, yet he’d been on the planet for less than a setting and had already made her witness it. The Authority could detain him for that alone.
He needed to get off thisnevskolnplanet. Fast.
Despite that very thought, he continued to analyze her. She bent with her knees and placed the basket on the floor. He’d scanned it earlier only to find exactly what she’d said—food and drink. That, at least, he could understand. There was no better way to say peace than by sharing precious resources of the land.
Shewas what confused him, though. He’d encountered plenty of non-warrior beings, but nothing like her. Everything fromher hair to the shape of her face to her slight form was new to him. Despite standing confidently enough, she moved like she didn’t want to take up space—like she was uncertain. Not in the cowardly way of an insecure opponent but in a way that reminded him once more of the gentler creatures on Runus, as though she must be quiet and furtive to survive. As though she came from an environment that required her to appear less than she was. Even now, she tried and failed to keep from fidgeting. Her hands flattened down the bright-colored garb she wore before drifting to her arms as if she were cold.
She patted her hair next, which was curly and soft. He’d already run his fingers over it when he tended to the small wound on her head. Never had he touched a female’s hair before, and he shouldn’t have touched hers. His hand had sunk into it, though, the coils wrapping around his fingers eagerly. Even now, riotous wisps of curls dangled here and there, coming undone from the tie she had them in—practically begging him to touch them.
Had he inhaled some toxin in the air? Had he died after all, and this was the afterlife of a disgraced Xaal?
“Ved?” Isobel Nott asked, her lips pulling down in a mannerism he didn’t recognize. She had said something he didn’t catch.
“Isobel Nott?”
