“Come, Driskos,” Andrix murmured. The hound let out a huff, the tension not quite leaving his body as he trotted alongside his master.
“Thank you,” she said as they passed her. Reaching down, Isobel scratched behind Driskos’s ears one last time.
Andrix didn’t answer her, but as he moved toward Ved, he said, “She brings mercy with her. Something Xaal don’t understand.”
“Don’t speak about her,” Ved snapped in dark warning.
Andrix let out a soft noise that sounded like a chuckle but wisely didn’t say anything else.
Just as the fog was about to envelop him, Isobel shouted, “Wait! Would you like your translator back?”
“Keep it,” he threw over his shoulder. “As a binding gift.”
She wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but it caused Ved to growl low in his throat, which was echoed by Kravis.
And then Andrix was gone, swallowed up by the fog rolling off the water.
With him gone, Isobel fully focused on Ved. His eye shields glinted several hues from orange to red. Her gaze traveled down his body, stopping on the bloody mess that was at his shoulder and thigh. “You’re hurt,”she rasped.
He was inspecting her in the same manner. “I’ll survive. And you…” He trailed off, undoubtedly cataloguing each of her injuries.
She furrowed her brow. “I’m a little bruised and…” She pressed her hand to the shallow cut at her throat. “But I’ll be fine. Ved…” She had a million things she wanted to say, yet she seemed incapable of forming a sentence. Though he was covered in blood and filth, she wanted to throw herself into his arms.
He’d come for her. Beyond all reason and possibility.
“I thought I was going to rot with these silvernevskolt,” Kravis said. He offered Ved a salute—pounding a fist across his chest. Then they clasped each other’s forearms in a tight grip, Kravis grabbing the back of Ved’s helmet as they did.
“I thought you were dead,” Ved said.
“And I you, if I’m being honest,” the fearsome general mused as they parted. “They didn’t tell me anything.”
Ved pulled a dagger out from somewhere on his person and handed it to his bruvya. It had a bone-white blade and a ruby-red jewel set in its handle. “I can’t believe you let them disarm you,” he said, and Isobel thought she heard humor in his tone.
“Like I had a stars-damn choice. My ship was seconds away from being torn to pieces when they towed me in. I took outninebefore they injected me with anevskoln tranquilizer. Kept me drugged the entire time. Took out five more when they tried to bring me here, though.” Kravis gestured to the island. “You’re welcome, as I have no doubt that would have been fourteen more for you to fight.”
“What’s fourteen more?” Ved said easily.
Isobel was so fascinated by their back and forth that, for a moment, she almost forgot they were standing on an island full of the dead.
“What happened to you?” Kravis asked, and Isobel knew that his eyes flicked to her—she could practically feel it.
“I crashed on a stars-damned sector 011 planet. So did one of the Raxans’ ships.” Ved gave him a brief account of what happened after he crashed, carefully leaving out the depth of his relationship with Isobel. Or much mention of her at all.
Kravis made a sound similar to a deep whistle. “Kroids and the Authority. You’ve been busy.” Then his attention landed on Isobel. “Now tell me, bruvya, who is this female? Small … but she is like a crescent scythe, curved to—”
“She is Isobel Nott,” Ved growled, eye shields blazing as he said it.
Kravis let out a thoughtful rumble and opened his free hand in what she could only imagine was a gesture of surrender. “Marlep and Je Ghol will be forever disappointed about not matching you with Qon Sava.” It sounded like he said it with a smile.
Ved grunted.
“You fought bravely,” Kravis said, and it took her far too long to realize he was speaking to her. He flipped the dagger in his hand that Ved had given him, offering it to her hilt first. “I’ll expect this back once my bruvya has crafted one specially for you.”
She took it hesitantly. It was heavy and felt odd in her grip, but she knew this was an honor. Despite the sticky humidity, a chill washed over her. “Thank you. You fought well, too, General.” It sounded lame, but she was too tired to find something more fitting to say.
Kravis was silent for a moment, then let out a bark of a laugh. She startled at the sudden sound but offered him a small smile.
“And,” Ved said, holding something else out to her, “your true weapon of choice.”
