“Ah, then I should make this gesture, too.” I try to arrange my hands into tiny swords like hers, but it’s surprisingly difficult with gloves on. My right hand makes it easily, but Delphie has to help me with the left. We both hold our hands up, pointed at the Eye. “Fuck you!” I shout into the dark, frozen sky.
“Fuck you!” Delphie echoes, sounding delighted and triumphant. I bask in her happiness for a few long minutes and then herd her back toward the airlock.
“We’ve been out long enough. Time to go inside.”
“I’m not that cold,” she protests. I scowl at her reluctance.
“Did you learnnothingfrom your last adventure on the surface?”
She gives my chest a playful push. “I’m serious! It’s not the same since I took the crown. I think maybe the goddess adjusted my biology so I could be more comfortable here. I’m only a little bit cold, not a lot.”
“She should have adjusted my level of concern at the same time, because I am ‘a lot’ concerned about you getting too cold,” I growl, feeling prickles of pigment crawling up my spine. A warrior would normally never let even a molecule of fear stain his skin, but I let it show on my face how terrified I am. “Humor me,” I beg.
And thankfully, after pulling me down for a kiss with reassuringly warm lips, she does.
“You surprise me,” I tell her as we walk down the many flights of stairs, her in front and me following behind with the telescope.
“Because I came inside when you asked?” She glances at me briefly over her shoulder with a rueful expression. “I’m notthatstubborn.”
I chuckle. “No, I thought you’d be more disturbed when you saw the Eye in orbit.”
“I don’t like it.” The frown in her voice is audible even over the clang of our footsteps. She brushes her fingers over the crown embedded in her forehead. “But the goddess tells me it’s fine. We’ll be done with them soon. So I’m trying not to worry about it.”
I wish Alioth was as generous with me. She may smile on my Alara, but her teeth are sharp. We won’t rid ourselves of the priests without some sacrifice. Everything has to go perfectly for this to work as planned, and Delphie’s part is the riskiest of all. Now that the exchange is imminent, she needs to know the details.
“Let’s stop by the comm room and go over the plan for the exchange,” I suggest. “There are some things you need to know.”
Chapter 33
Delphie
When the day of the hostage exchange arrives, I've practiced my part at least twenty-five times. Nik has been as exacting about this rehearsal as he is about everything else. We've run through multiple scenarios, anticipating just about every set of circumstances, and we’ve pulled them off flawlessly. I think this is gonna work.
“This will work,” Y’len says confidently, echoing my thoughts. She slides my fluffy hat over her naked skull. Then her skin camouflages a deep brown that's very close to my human skin tone. It's a clever trick. She's just matching her pigment to her inner sveli color, but the priests don't have to know that. To them, she'll look like me, especially because most of them have never seen a human up close.
I had Nik shave my head with his claws, and I am wearing the same outfit as all the other warriors, a matching leather sveli and fur-lined trousers, along with a fur hat. Nik made me wear two extra layers underneath my clothes. He says it’s so I look more muscular, but I know it's because he's worried about me freezing out there. I have an extra padding in the bottom of my boots, and some socks stuffed in my hat to make it taller, but I’m still about eight inches too short to be Irran.
That’s okay. They’re supposed to notice.
My brilliant king realized that Zomah will expect to be cheated. So every element of the exchange is designed to look like a trick, when the real trick is that it’s not. We are really going to give him the epylium ore. I am really going to walk onto his transport ship. And the High Priest is going to be so smug about beating us at our own game that he’s not going to realize he’s been defeated until it’s too late.
When the transport from the Eye lands in the designated location, Nik gives the signal to board the surface vehicle that will take us to the staging area. It’s sort of like a truck but wider, with huge tires and an open platform. The epylium crates are strapped down in the center, and the rest of us sit around the perimeter with our feet hanging over the edge, holding onto special handles to stay on board. Y’len sits with Nik and the driver at the front, and Aqen and I are squeezed in between other warriors.
As we rumble over the stones toward the transport ship. It’s long and black and crouches in the stones like a predator ready to pounce. Aqen leans forward to get a better look. “It’s a Skybreak,” he reports.
That’s good. That’s one we practiced. I run over the blueprint in my mind until the ground vehicle comes to a halt. The epylium guards unload the crates, and the rest of us fall into formation with Nik at the front and Y’len in the center of our circle, pretending to be me.
Most of my attention is dedicated to maintaining my camouflage like the rest of the warriors. It’s not important what colors I show, because the stones littering the field are all colors and shades. It’s just important that I don’t let my skin stay solid. I’m not great at controlling my pigment yet, despite all the drills Nik has put me through, so occasionally I lose control, but hopefully no one is looking at me... yet.
As soon as we’re assembled, the priests exit their ship. Wrapped in their black cloaks, it’s like watching bats fly out of a cave. Spooky.
At first, I think they’ve left the hostages inside the transport, counter to the agreement. Zomah planning to cheat us? But a burst of volcanic wind whips through the wide valley, making their cloaks flutter to the side, and I momentarily catch sight of more colorfully dressed people in the center of the group. I frown when a second glimpse reveals that they aren’t wearing much in the way of protective clothing. This is a big problem, and one we didn’t rehearse.
Nik steps forward, and one of the priests does as well. They exchange words that I can’t hear, but they appear to be arguing. Damn, I wish the goddess had given me super hearing along with my little body heat adjustment. Aqen translates for me, muttering under his breath, “The High Priest wants to check the ore.”
“He better hurry,” I whisper back. “I don’t think the hostages can be out here very long.”
We exchanged a worried look, and then our attention returns to the exchange when Nik grudgingly unlocks a crate to let Zomah check the contents. The High Priest pokes around with some kind of device and then steps back, barking a few sentences.
