“We both think…” my precocious sister looked at Kyvar as if to emphasize that I was outnumbered, “…that they can be useful with all their knowledge, and that if they learn more about our vorpyrren and what has happened in our interactions with their own people, they will come to sympathize with us.”
“But if they’re spies, then we’re giving them exactly what they want—information about us.”
“We all know that’s unlikely,” she argued. And she was right, if I thought they were truly a threat I would have shut her and my traitorous commander down immediately.
“It’s not as if they’ll be given vital information.” Kyvar added.
“They can never leave.” I told them. “Not with the information we’re going to give them. Even if it is benign. Plus, I haveno intention of giving those sadistic bastards any of their own back. So if you want this, realize that they will need to either be executed once there is no longer a use for them, or we’ll need to find continuing work for them to be useful to our society.”
“In a few years they could learn vorikaan and travel to some of our universities to give talks and offer fresh perspective.” Thyra was getting excited the more she talked about it. “It’s so rare we get a look at the outside world and other species. And ever since Chikev left us to live near his daughter in Luuciyn’s territory, we’ve needed additional help with our intergalactic trade contracts and accounting, which they can help with.” She quirked an eyebrow and gave me a look. “Especially since you refuse to let us upload our information to any databases that could make all the calculations for us.”
“Databases can be hacked. The number of our species is small compared to others, we can’t afford for anyone to have information about us.” I reminded her. The entire advisory of Vorazyragreed on that. There wasn’t a territory that uploaded information to anywhere another species could potentially access. After nearly being wiped out by the ‘Gak we well knew the danger of any other species having information about us.
“We can use them and keep them locked up when we’re not.” Kyvar said. When Thyra turned a frown on him, he clarified, “locked up in that house, which is a nice place, when they’re not being supervised. We can assign a guard to take them for walks if they need to get out and breathe the fresh air.”
“They’re not pets, Kyvar.” Thyra rebuked.
“Eh.” I waved my hand in a motion that indicated they might be. She huffed a breath through her nose at me, expressing her displeasure. I grinned.
“So it’s settled. We’ll have a meal with them and introduce the idea of working for us,” she said.
“What are you having the chefs prepare? They seem to pick through whatever’s given to them.”
“That’s because they don’t know anything about what they’re eating. I’d be cautious too.” My sister said. Thyra was a natural born hostess andcould be a peace ambassador if she wanted.
I was glad she’d stayed with me when Luuciyn left to claim his own territory, despite it being a place she would likely enjoy. The Vorazyr he’d killed so he could take his place had been a tyrant and the territory had been losing vorpyr to other territories, like mine, for a long time. Now he’d built the place back into the beautiful city it had once been and made it an epicenter of trade. He even traveled intergalactically and negotiated contracts often. To think he’d been the kid who’d beaten bullies in fights through sheer tactics and underhanded combat maneuvers. Our father had been frustrated that he was lean instead of heavy with muscle and didn’t fight head on like I did. I thought more of him for it. He’d adapted andwon.
“It’s not like we eat anything strange.” Kyvar said.
“In our minds.” Thyra pushed her long hair over her shoulder in a gesture that let me know she was about to tell us what was happening and that would be that. “I have had them prepare simple vegetable and starch sides with roasted hykhand a roasted avian dish—I’m not sure what the chef picked yet—and a sweet berry dessert. It shouldn’t be offensive to their palettes and will be a pleasant introduction to a proper vorpyr meal.”
“Given that you usually plan six courses when inviting guests, I’m shocked.” I dodged her claws.
“It still sounds good. I won’t need to pretend I’m too busy with work to show up.” This time Kyvar was the one to dive out of range of her swipe.
“I expect you both there at dinnertime.” She stood and left the room.
Kyvar regarded me. “Are you good with this, Vorazyr?” He used my title when formally requesting my opinion or speaking of something vital. I found it ironic after he’d sided with Thyra.
“If I wasn’t, you’d have heard it.” Not that I was pleased with it, but it wouldn’t harm anything.
“It’s just that you seem to get along with the female, so I thought it likely you’d go for this idea more than you have.”
I flicked my wing dismissively. “She’s the one who needs to be watched the most. It doesn’t matter if we get along or not, it’s my responsibility to observe her and make sure she’s not doing something she shouldn’t be.”
His pupils dilated and contracted as he studied me, but despite the emotion he showed, he didn’t say anything more. That was probably best. I didn’t want to hear again how I could have a guard watch her and not do it myself so much. I was responsible for her and wanted to be near her. For security reasons.
I strode into the dining hall. Her scent hit me immediately, sweet and musky, the sensual scent of a mature female, and my gaze sought her out immediately. She was standing near a rock carving, studying it closely while Thyra spoke to her. The human male stood next to Thyra—too close—and was intent on her as she spoke. Of course he wouldn’t know everything she was saying, but it seemed Jacqueline was translating.
Both the head attendant of my house, Vuldrex, and his daughter, Junyv, hovered nearby.
Jacqueline saw me first and turned. Thyra beamed. “Arrazyl, I was just telling them about how our ancestors used to worship the ground and the moon.”
“Old superstitious practices.” I said.
“But it sounds like some of your festivals still revolve around the principle.” Jacqueline said. Then she turned to Jaron and translated, I assumed.
“Our culture is deep-rooted and ancient.” Thyra agreed.
