Gray metal, what looked like a prison cot sticking off the wall, and a little toilet looking device in the back. It felt like she’d woken up in a nightmare.
“It’s a cell. I’m in a cell.” As Polly’s senses were coming back to her, so did the fear and terror of what was going on. Not to mention the anger. She was so mad over this whole mess, she wanted to scream.
Not that it would do her any good. She had to keep herself stable and stay focused. She had little to go on here, but she had to at least try to keep her wits about her.
And if she wasn't mistaken, Breal was trying to friend her?
“Luxury accommodations were booked,” Breal answered.
Sort of, anyway. “Whatever,” Polly muttered, unsure about her slightly-warm, then chilly answers. Might as well get down to it. “Now, how do I get out of here?”
“Well, I could throw you out the airlock,” Breal said.
If she was trying to be funny, it wasn’t working for Polly. “Don’t think Erzo would like that.”
“Don’t care much,” Breal replied.
The door behind Breal opened, and another female Charro came in. Longer hair than Breal’s and bound in braids, she was distinctly different from Breal with a curvier shape and her green skin had a varying texture, at least what Polly could see, anyway. The woman dressed like the ones who’d taken them with the same insignia on her shirt.
Was she part of Breal’s clan? Or was that for Erzo? Polly couldn’t remember the difference.
“Breal, the clans are meeting with your father,” the female said. Her voice was gentle, and Breal seemed to respond to it, her entire demeanor changing for a breath.
Not so tough and warrior-like, Polly noticed. Breal glanced back at the other Charro. Sighed. When she turned back, a hint of a smile faded. “I’ll be just a minute.”
The other Charro stepped out of the room.
Polly wondered if there was something between those two Charro. From the way they looked at each other, Polly was sure there had to be some sort of connection, anyway.
“You don’t want to marry Erzo, either,” Polly said.
“No. He’s like my sibling.” She shivered. “Besides, boys are dumb.”
Polly chuckled. That she could relate to. “Okay, I get that. Dumb boys are how I got into this mess.”
She glanced at her. “Running away from one?”
“Ripped across the universe to meet one is more like it.”
Breal raised her eyebrow. “Really, we must speak in depth about this, but now is not the time.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the door, and then back. “Here,” she said, and handed Polly her collapsed bat.
Polly was stunned, the bat feeling like an old friend in her hand. “What? Why are you giving me this?”
“There’s going to be a challenge. For Erzo. To break the contract. We may have to fight in combat. Practice,” she said, and leaned in close. “They’re watching. Shove me away.”
“Get off me,” Polly said.
Breal smiled just slightly. “We will settle this in combat. You should be ready.”
Polly gasped as Breal stormed out of the room.
She held tight to her bat.
“Open combat? What is this? Medieval times?” She hit the button to open it. It glided open just like it was supposed to, and immediately she started swinging it like Erzo showed her.
“Hell,” Polly muttered.
What was she going to do now?
