Page 74 of Alien Prince’s Fake Bride (The Tentacle Throne #1)
- Umbra -
Our gunship drops through the atmosphere, and Mareliux lands it in a palace courtyard ringed with hundreds of legionnaires in mirrored armor and one person with no armor at all.
Mareliux opens the door from the outside and helps me out, and then we’re back on planet Khav.
One of the legionnaires steps forward and raises her mirrored visor.
“Welcome back to Khav, Your Highnesses. My Prince, it is my pleasure and duty to inform you that all of Khav is under your control. The Calanians have been defeated, and the Phrexz influence has been rooted out. We have taken Quaestor Preniat into custody, as well as the commanding Calanians. The Emperor is confined to his quarters, but has not been barred from entering the Throne room. We await your further orders, Your Highness.”
“Very good, General Grast!” Mareliux says, his deep bass echoing from the buildings around us. “As always, my shock troopers saved the Empire!”
A disciplined cheer rises from the soldiers.
I notice that where the legionnaires used to have the Imperial crest on their chest armor, these ones have replaced it with a hastily made symbol I recognize as Mareliux’s personal crest. Sigise has also painted a green ‘U’ beside hers, a real Earth capital ‘u’ that her AI must have told her about.
I point to it. “Is that for me?”
“Your Highness,” Sigise says with a shallow bow. “It is indeed. I wanted everyone to know who sent me. It is supposed to be the symbol for your name. Or the first part of it. I think?”
I go in to embrace her, and she bends down to make it easier. Again it’s like hugging a giant insect with a hard shell, but this time she at least doesn’t just stand there, but hugs me hard right back.
“Thank you,” I whisper in a throat that’s tightening up from emotion. “That means a lot.”
“It did to me too,” she replies.
“Was it a hard battle?”
“Barely a fight at all,” Sigise says and glances behind her. “Someone had already softened the Calanians up. We just had to march into their camp and take their weapons.”
With the formalities out of the way, Caret’ax finally feels that he can step forwards. “Greetings, Highnesses. It’s good to see you both safe. Though I understand you were not safe at all for a good while.” His torso is bare as always, and I spot a couple of new injuries.
“Greetings, Caret’ax,” Mareliux replies. “Indeed we were not safe. I wondered why you didn’t come with Umbra and Grast when they escaped from Khav.”
The caveman’s eyes flash. “The Calanians took me prisoner the moment you left Khav, sir! I killed five of them, I’m happy to say.
And then I spent several hours in a cell with only myself for company until I found a way out and had the pleasure of killing nine more.
Not very impressive fighters, the Calanians.
I had expected more from them. But I understand they were influenced by an evil spirit.
No man can fight well when he’s possessed. ”
For a change, Mareliux is lost for words. “You… you broke out of a Calanian cell? And then you… you killed nine of them?!”
Caret’ax shrugs his massive shoulders. “In that cell, I wasn’t much good for anyone, sir. I had to reach Princess Umbra and protect her, as you had commanded. I had no choice but to do what I did. If that was wrong, I stand by my actions.”
“It wasn’t wrong, obviously,” Mareliux says, trying to understand.
“They were indeed possessed by an enemy. I’m just astonished that one man would be able to…
but of course when that man is Caret’ax, normal thinking doesn’t apply.
Well done, Caret’ax. I would give you a very senior rank and a medal, but I know you care for neither. ”
“I’m a simple warrior, sir,” Caret’ax says. “And even you can’t make me chief of my tribe. No, my only reward is accomplishing my task. I can only regret that I let myself be captured so easily. They had some kind of net, sir. My sword wouldn’t cut the strands.”
Again Mareliux is astonished. “I know those nets. Surely you didn’t fight Calanians while you were inside a constrictor net? It will shrink and make your movement impossible!”
“Killed four from inside it,” Caret’ax growls. “I admit I was furious. Such a cowardly contraption to use on a warrior!”
“Quite,” Mareliux agrees weakly, clearly impressed. Then he collects himself. ”General, I think it’s about time I saw the Emperor. Signal your people and have them bring Craxallo Imperator to the Tentacle Throne. We shall see him there.”
Sigise straightens. “Yes, sir!”
We walk along a wide street paved with alien cobblestones. Every sixty feet there’s a statue of some hero or royal, and I notice that a good number of them are female.
Mareliux has a safe hold of my hand. He didn’t want me to come down here with him, preferring me to stay on the Gladiux and be safe.
But he didn’t put up a fight when I insisted that I come, too.
As a compromise, I agreed to wear lightweight armor and a helmet that’s so big I keep having to lift the front of it to see where I’m going.
I get the point — only a day ago, this palace was under the control of a Phrexz and the soldiers whose minds it had invaded and corrupted through the Syntrix.
It’s just common sense to take every precaution.
The giant doors open, and we walk through the immense halls that lead down to the Tentacle Throne.
As the shock troopers push open the last set of doors, Mareliux’s hand tightens around mine. I understand why — nobody knows what will happen here, and there’s a lot at stake. His stepfather is still the Emperor of the Khavgren Empire, and a lot depends on how he reacts to this.
We walk into the throne room. Thousands of torches lighten the gloom, but just a fraction.
The Tentacle Throne looks the same as last time, huge and always moving with all its thick tendrils. It’s both scary and creepy and kind of awesome, now that I know what the Syntrix can do and I feel somewhat comfortable with it. I feel it in here, almost like a physical presence.
Mareliux stiffens beside me. “What are you doing?!” he yells, and his voice echoes powerfully from the stone walls in the vast room.
There’s someone sitting on the throne. And there’s someone else standing there, too. Neither of them are Emperor Craxallo.
It’s Prince Nerox, sitting sideways in his irreverent way, dangling one leg over the armrest. A female soldier with a purple scarf is standing stiffly beside the Throne.
I frown. Even now, with the Phrexz dead, Nerox feels that he needs a bodyguard? It strikes me that he must have been badly traumatized.
“Oh hi, Umbra,” Nerox drawls when we approach.
“Looking radiant, as usual. I tell you, if you weren’t married…
Mareliux! Didn’t notice you there. You missed a fun battle.
Your shock troopers came and defeated the Calanians in the time it takes to drink a glass of krut .
If I’d known they’d be such pushovers, I would have done it myself.
Well, not in person, of course. But I’m sure I would have sent someone. ”
“Why are you on the Throne?” Mareliux demands. “You are neither Emperor nor Crown Prince!”
“Agreed,” Nerox says and slowly gets to his feet. He throws his cape behind him with the usual flourish as he stands up. “But I may never get the chance to sit on it again, and there was nobody here. And look, it likes me.” He reaches up to a tentacle, and it comes down to stroke his hand.
Mareliux tenses up, and I expect him to read his brother the riot act. But instead he relaxes. “All right. If it likes you, I suppose it’s fine to try. Anyone else would find it deadly.”
“Someone had to warm it up for the Emperor,” Nerox says with a little smile. “But I’m glad to see you, Umbra. And Mareliux, I suppose. I hear the Phrexz is dead?”
Mareliux nods. “The Phrexz shapeshifter that had taken the place of our mother and then became Empress Juriniel is dead, yes. When did you suspect?”
Nerox leans his hip on the Throne. “That she was a Phrexz? Not until the Calanians blew up the apartment where you’d left Umbra to fend for herself.
That’s when things seemed to click into place in my mind.
Far too late, of course. But it’s hard to imagine your own mother having been dead for decades and her appearance being occupied by an alien that we’re not even sure exists.
And whose powers are only mentioned in myths and rumors and legends.
I know I was slow to realize. But it seemed to be a real stretch. ”
There’s a soreness in his voice I haven’t heard from the young prince before.
Mareliux reaches out and touches his upper arm.
“Nobody blames you, Nerox. We never knew a Phrexz would be that good at taking someone’s place.
And there were many who were closer to the Empress than you were and who should have done something.
I’m only glad that you survived. I think the Phrexz completely misjudged you.
You would not have been an easy person to rule the Empire through— ah. There he is.”
A door at the other end of the room opens, and Emperor Craxallo walks towards us, flanked by four of Sigise’s shock troopers. He’s tall and thin in his white robes with purple piping, but he walks faster and with more energy than I would have expected.
The room is quiet while he steps up on the podium and sits down on the Throne. His tentacles are not as pale, and they move more naturally than before. He looks healthier than last time I saw him.
“Crown Prince Mareliux,” he begins, his voice stronger than the sickly wheeze he could manage before. “Prince Nerox. Princess Umbra. General Grast. Caret’ax the Warrior. Young cornica.” He gives us all short nods. “Things have changed since last we spoke.”