Page 15 of Scorching the Alien Empire (The Klendathian Cycle #7)
“Yuck! I’d rather hook up with Todd than that arrogant twat,” she spits, like she’s just swallowed more of Dracoth’s rotten sock-chair monster.
“Obviously. Todd is the most handsome... thing in the universe,” I respond automatically, because the idea he’s anything else is just blatant jealousy-fueled propaganda. “Where is the little scamp?” I ask, scanning the pile of furs eagerly for any sign of him.
“Down here,” Sandra says, reaching beneath her blankets. “He wasn’t so bad once he settled down.”
My face lights up as she produces my wiggling cyloillar. Todd’s little spindly legs flail in a blur of motion, his little clackers clacking, and his big, gleaming black eye glistens almost as if they’re tears of joy at seeing me again.
“Apart from all the times he kept pooping on my clothes,” Sandra claims with an overly dramatic sigh, trying to dampen our reunion.
“You would never do such a thing, would you, my little chug bug?” I coo, stroking his segmented back.
Todd lazily blinks in agreement. But as I reach to pick him up, he squirms backward, as if he wants to stay with Sandra.
I inhale sharply with outrage. “You little traitor! Get over here.”
But the blob of black-red rubber wriggles fiercely, breaking free and earning a synchronized shriek from both Sandra and me.
“Todd! You come back here this instant!” I demand, repeating something I vaguely recall my mother saying when I was a kid.
The treacherous bug doesn’t listen. Instead, he scuttles across the floor in a blur of spindly legs, slipping and sliding over the smooth black marble as he makes a frantic dash for freedom.
I leap after him, stomping around like Lexie-the-sexy-green-giant, nearly tripping over the clutter strewn about the room.
Todd scrambles atop an oversized ornate desk—if that desk had a love-child with a tree truck.
“I have you now,” I say, looming over him and cutting off his escape.
He burrows under a pile of Sandra’s stinky gnomish furs, wriggling desperately as if he can outmaneuver me—his bug-mom.
Carefully, I lower my hands, preparing to snatch the little traitor. Then, with the speed of a striking snake, I lash out.
“Got you!” I declare triumphantly, clutching Todd to my chest, where he belongs. “You’re not getting away again—it’s for your own good.”
“Look. He’s got something in his wee mouth-things,” Sandra says, frowning as she gestures at Todd’s tiny, twitching limbs.
“Oh?” I say, excitement bubbling as I peel away a garish red-furred shirt wrapped around Todd. I half expect nothing but the usual—a too-cute bug. Instead, his little mandibles are tearing into a... jelly stick.
“Wow, look at him go!” I squeal with delight, pride swelling as I watch his jaws efficiently saw through the tough, brick-like food . “He wasn’t a traitor after all, just half-starved. Poor wee chug bug.”
“I don’t think even Dracoth could get through one of those things as fast,” Sandra marvels, narrowing her eyes at Todd. “One fills me up for days. No wonder he couldn’t stop pooping.”
I barely hear her, overwhelmed with relief that Todd has finally found something to eat. So random that it was the disgusting jelly sticks he liked.
But who am I to second-guess the whims of the beautiful?
With a gentle nudge, Todd scampers up my arm to his rightful home—my shoulder—still chomping loudly on his prize. My shoulders loosen as I notice Sandra sitting upright on her bed, her lips curled into a faint smile.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” I say warmly, my smile mirroring my friend’s.
“A bit. Thanks,” she mutters, entwining her fingers awkwardly. “You’re good at distracting me from my problems.”
“Rude,” I retort, feigning offense. Then, my voice softens, serious now. “Don’t worry about Jazzy. He won’t be bothering you anymore—not unless he wants to end up looking like a strawberry pancake.”
Sandra lets out a small laugh, but it quickly fades as she lowers her head. I brace myself for what’s coming next.
“But what if he’s right?” she says, her voice wavering. She gestures vaguely at the walls, her arms flopping like a wounded bird. “That I don’t belong here. You and the fellas were off fighting, and I couldn’t do anything but look after this guy.”
She reaches over to pet Todd, who shifts protectively over his remaining jelly stick, eyeing her with suspicion.
Dread wraps its icy fingers around my heart. She wants to leave. She’s going to abandon me. My only remaining friend—the only real friend I’ve ever had—gone, just like that.
“No, Sandra!” I exclaim, throwing myself dramatically across her legs like a child refusing bedtime. “Don’t leave! Don’t abandon me!”
Dracoth would be mortified to see his War Chieftainess reduced to this, but I couldn’t care less. The deep ache in my heart compels me to hold on.
“Stop. You’re being ridiculous, Lexie,” Sandra says, her tone a mix of shock and gentle concern. Her hand rubs soothing circles on my back. “I don’t want to leave. It’s just... maybe I’m getting in the way, you know?”
Her words— I don’t want to leave —fill me with the purest crystalline joy, like discovering a flawless new wardrobe just in time for the season.
“Hmm, rub higher,” I murmur, relief flooding through me as I cling to her tighter.
Sandra lets out a long-suffering sigh but obliges, kneading my shoulders with the finesse of someone baking concrete.
“Is this to your liking, Your Highness?” she mocks in an exaggerated posh accent.
“Jealousy—so sad.”
Her fingers become green knives of envy, digging into my shoulder.
“Ouch!” I yelp, jolting upright and swatting her stabby hands away. “Never would’ve guessed you had such murder fingers!” I wince, rubbing the ache she left behind.
We both share a smile in the dim purple light, but I owe her more for always being there for me.
“You’re not getting in anyone’s way, Sandra. Quite the opposite. I’d be lost without you.” I take her hands in mine, sincerity spilling from my expression. “I need you here with me. You’re the only sane thing in this whole trash-fire insane asylum.”
My eyes shimmer, the raw emotion catching me off guard. I pull her into a fierce hug, squeezing her tight as if I could impress upon her just how much she means to me.
“Thank you, Sandra.”
“You’re making me blush,” she murmurs, a touch of embarrassment coloring her voice. “Besides, I haven’t done anything except... be here.”
“That’s enough,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion as I fight back tears.
I break our embrace with a heavy sigh, a weight lifting from my shoulders.
“Don’t worry. Once we get this Krogoth guy sorted, we’ll be living it up in obscene luxury—sunbathing while overlooking a beautiful alien vista, eating and drinking the finest cuisine the universe has to offer.
And we’ll totally find you the most handsome, dashing alien man—one who’s not a rude prick this time.
” My words tumble out in an excited rush.
“Just like we promised,” I add, whispering, almost feeling the heat of some roaring, alien-red sun kissing and burning my skin—a sun like Dracoth. ..
“You can leave out the man part, but I’ll take the rest,” Sandra laughs, her voice as refreshing as Mediterranean waves lapping against a cruise ship.
Her smile softens, almost pleading. “But honestly, Lexie, it’s okay if we can’t do all those things.
I’d be happy just exploring new places with you.
” She tilts her head slightly, her gaze distant with memory.
“Remember when we had nothing in that dark cell? That’s when we became real friends—when we survived with nothing . We don’t need much to be happy.”
Her words wash over me like a bucket of icy water, threatening to freeze my ambitions. My gaze falls to my wedding and goddess rings, sparkling and glowing faintly in the dim light as I spin them absently around my finger.
Could she be right? Is it better to just give up and settle for less?
No. That sounds like coping. And I refuse to cope.
“Eww, hobo logic,” I declare, standing abruptly and smoothing out the creases in my clothes. “It’s okay, Sandra, you’re just saying that because you’ve never experienced cozy luxury before.” I flash her a wicked grin. “But don’t worry—you will soon.”
I whirl around with enough flair to make Jazzy seethe with envy, my hair and super-important cloak sweeping dramatically behind me.
“Lexie, wait—” Sandra’s voice cuts through, tinged with concern.
“It’s fine,” I say, glancing over my shoulder, stroking Todd’s soft rubbery body. “I just need to learn the sacred words.”
When I find and convince the creepy old Lexie-snatcher, nothing will stop me.