Page 48 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

48

A Full Lifespan

B laze

“Welcome,” Santa Claus says.

Well, he’s not exactly Santa. I mean, he’s not chubby, and his white beard is cropped close to his mint-green face. But the eyes are Santa-esque. They’re… twinkling.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” he says, then waves his hand in a signal to the driver. We hover over the crowd and leave the commons, filled with thousands of people wearing red, far behind.

“I’m King Aldric Alcantar of the Kingdom of Plesmore.”

Of course he is. I should know this male’s features in my sleep. He certainly haunted my dreams for long enough. I’d been ordered to memorize them. Actually, I’d been ordered to do a lot more than that to them.

“I know who you are, Slayer.” His golden eyes pierce me with so much force it feels like I’ve been shot in the chest.

They made a tactical error when they let me sit next to the door. I pull the door handle, happy to die from my fall. It would be far preferable to the torture I’m certain they have in store for me.

Panic zings through my body when the door won’t budge.

“That won’t do,” the King says calmly.

After three more attempts to yank the door open, my terror obvious on my face, my heart thumping in triple time, I settle down and just let my tears stream down my face as I come to terms with my imminent death.

“L-look,” I stutter. Maybe trying to explain will make things better. Fat chance. “I didn’t want to do it. I mean I…” I let my words fade off. Nothing I can say will get me out of this.

Xzavic and I are in the back of the large hover that’s built like a limo. We’re facing backward, looking directly at the King, who is flanked by his two bodyguards.

“I can tell by your companion’s face that he’s the only one in this vehicle who isn’t aware of our previous connection. Do you wish to fill him in, or would you like me to?” The King’s voice is level. It doesn’t have the taunting bite that Zedd or Hahn used when they were backing us into a corner.

There’s no reason to hold back. If I don’t explain, he will, and I don’t think I’ll like the way he tells the story.

“Slavers abducted me three years ago. They stole me out of my military barracks. I assumed there was a reason, but I was never asked to use my special skill set,” I say directly to Xzavic. “Several months ago, my paperwork must have finally caught up with me, because I was removed from my owner’s home, transported to a Federation military base, instructed on the use of laser weapons, renamed Slayer, and then sent to work in King Alcantar’s kitchen.”

I squeeze Xzavic’s hand, waiting for his answering squeeze to reassure me. We may be about to die any moment, but he lifts me onto his lap as if he’s the king in this hover. With his arms wrapped around my waist and his chin on the top of my head, I find the strength to keep talking. When I feel Red’s scant weight climb onto my shoulder, it makes things seem a bit less dire.

“Being a kitchen wench was my cover. My real job was to kill the King. They ordered me to fire a shot from the window in my room when he rode into the neighboring forest on his mronck . I was told no one would ever know it was me, although I assumed I’d have to pay the piper at some point.” I keep my gaze planted firmly on my feet. When one of the bodyguards decides to kill me, I don’t want to see it coming.

“I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.” I wipe the tears off my cheeks with the back of my hand. “Every day my handlers’ coded comms got more insistent. Finally, when I didn’t follow their orders, they retrieved me and tossed me into that gymnasium the first night of The Game .”

I twist on Xzavic’s lap. I want to see the expression on his face. To see if he believes me. To discover if he hates me now that I’ve divulged this information. He dips his head to kiss me. The position is so awkward, he only manages to graze the corner of my mouth. It’s enough to reassure me.

Then I raise my gaze to the King even as I wonder why he came to the Commons. Why I’m in his hover. Why I’m not already dead at the hands of his immense bodyguards.

“It took us a few days to piece things together. We knew there was a spy in the household, someone there to kill me. It might be why you didn’t recognize me immediately. The King Alcantar you saw wasn’t me, it was a body double.

“We were looking for an assassin. The tiny Earth kitchen wench was not a suspect until she left under questionable circumstances and wound up in The Game the very same day.” He reaches across the seat and grabs my hand. “Care to tell me why you refused to do your job?”

I laugh ruefully. “I know you’ve watched me kill a bunch of people over the last few days, but I don’t like killing. I realized that when I still worked for Earth’s military. It’s different, though, when people are coming to kill you. I managed to override my reservations and keep myself and Xzavic alive. But killing on someone’s order? Someone who means me no harm? No.” I shake my head adamantly.

He nods, his eyes crinkling in that Kris Kringle kindly old man way. I don’t want to be lulled into trusting him, though. That sounds like it would be a fatal mistake.

“I guess after all you’ve been through, you deserve to know why the Feds ordered me dead?”

I nod. “That would be nice.”

“Although my kingdom is small, it’s well known throughout Marentine that I don’t believe in slavery. It’s outlawed in Plesmore. We have a higher per capita income, a higher happiness quotient, and people from all over the galaxy are thronging to become citizens.

“The Federation likes the status quo, though. They’re not ready to change the way they conduct business as usual over most of the galaxy. It keeps the rich rich. And their wealth funds the Federation with its warring ways and expansion plans. My little kingdom is a thorn in their side. It gives slaves and the poor something to hold onto. Kind of like little Red there.”

I don’t know where I find the courage, but I say, “Crimson” at the same time as Xzavic. Then we both laugh.

“So by refusing to kill me, you made an enemy of the powerful Galactic Federation. But you made a friend in me. I figured you’d never get a mile from the Commons.”

“Aye,” Xzavic says. “I had no idea where we’d go or how we’d get there.”

“As to why I’m here, I’ve come to offer you to join me in Plesmore.”

I quickly batten down my relief, although it’s hovering at the edges of my consciousness, waiting to wash over me like warm, summer rain. Instead, I inspect the King’s face. After so much fuckery over the last few days, I want to ensure he’s not messing with us.

“I’m serious,” he says, as if he could read my mind. “Come to Plesmore. You would both be welcome additions to my guard, or you could take up any other form of employment. Until you get on your feet, there’s a small cottage in the forest near the palace. You’re welcome to stay there.”

“Really?” I ask, still skeptical.

“Really,” he says, a kindly smile on his face.

“Shake?” Xzavic asks, remembering the handshake I insisted on our first night together.

After Xzavic shows him how, the king shakes first with him, then me. For the first time in over a hundred hours, I believe I just might have the chance at a full lifespan.