“Not a chance.”
Driok inclines his head.
“Fine.” I say through gritted teeth and hand over the little ray gun which big hairy puts in a small depression in the wall next to him.
“Is that all?”
“Save for my wit, I have nothing else.” I chuckle to myself as I do a twirl and the hippo/bison growls.
He sets off Driok, who starts snarling, and all the attention is off me.
“And you, Lord Driok?”
Driok slowly extends his claws on each finger.
“Try it,” he rasps. “This is getting boring. Take us to see the baron.” He sheathes his claws as swiftly as they appeared.
Behind the hippo/bison a door slides open.
“Welcome, Lord Driok.” A voice comes out of nowhere. “Please enter.”
“About time,” Driok grumbles, ushering me through the door and firing a deadly glance at the guards.
I doubt they’re bothered, although they do look rather flammable, so if I were them, I’d be more concerned. Behind us, the door closes, and we find ourselves in an airlock of sorts.
“What now?” I say out of the side of my mouth.
“Follow my lead,” Driok says.
“I can’t turn into a dragon,” I reply.
“Then do everything but,” he responds as the door ahead opens slowly. A rising crescendo of noise, which I think is supposed to be music, comes rolling out at us, along with the scent of…flowers. Driok wrinkles his nose and the muscle in his jaw pops. “I’ll do the shifting to Sarkarnii form for the both of us.”
The doors snap open with a sense of the dramatic and what initially looks like a dark inner spotted with stars dissolves to reveal something more akin to a Romanesque courtyard. There are fountains, there are plants, and there are columns all in pastel hues and none of which look quite right.
“Come, come.” A creature steps out from behind a column.
It’s probably about half my height, and I do my very best not to recoil as I see the set of lavender tentacles from halfway downits body. These are swathed in bright orange silks, so it’s difficult to count them. The upper part is disturbingly human like, with a buddha belly, chubby arms, and a bald head. There is only one eye, set above a pointed nose and a slit mouth.
“Baron,” Driok says, lifting one hand in greeting.
“I trust my Badaon bodyguards didn’t give you and your pet too much trouble.” The baron swarms towards us. “They can be a little overenthusiastic at times. But they are motivated by money, which makes them useful.”
I am mesmerized by the tentacles and have a hard time concentrating on any other part of the baron. But eventually I manage to fix my eyes on his face.
“Maggie is my elite guard, not a pet,” Driok says, surprisingly evenly.
“Shame. Humans make great pets,” the baron says, turning away from us.
Driok puts out his arm to stop me from braining our supposed last best hope of finding a way out of Xracak City and his crew.
“However, I wasn’t aware they made good guards,” he adds. “I shall have to look into it. My Gryn have become rather recalcitrant of late. Even the control collars no longer work, and I may have to sell them on.”
I bristle as the baron makes his way over to a cushioned area, similar to the one in our quarters, only much larger and arranged around a small blue fountain. Driok puts his finger to his lips and follows him, dropping into the pit and Sarkarnii-spreading with some ease.
“But then control collars never really worked on the Sarkarnii, did they?” Baron says, pursing his lips together in an imitation of a cat’s butthole before releasing a whooshing sound, which I eventually work out is a laugh, as Driok bares his teeth in what is not a smile.
“Control collars have never worked on the Sarkarnii,” he says.
