Page 18 of Touch the Stars (Ghara Empire #1)

Baatar.

H e stumbled along the corridor between his captors, three thoughts reeling through his addled mind. Kaitlyn in danger… Ragatians staging a coup… Buuren was innocent .

The memory of the emperor’s words in the audience chamber rose up, and a surge of different type of betrayal swamped him.

The grand emperor of the Gharan Empire murdered my brother.

Not by his own imperial hand, of course, but he had certainly ordered Buuren’s execution.

The truth of this had shone in the great one’s eyes.

It was the only honest thing about that brief conversation.

The claim that Buuren died groveling in the dirt, pleading for his life, was a blatant lie.

No Undetan warrior would demean themselves in that way.

So, what had led to Buuren’s death? Had he somehow discovered the Ragatian’s duplicity, or was this merely a prelude to something worse? And how did Kaitlyn figure into the devious plot?

If anything happened to her, things would be worse. Not only for him, but also for the empire. She must stay alive until he could escape his captors and return to her.

Nak will help her.

As long as the Kavian’s loyalty was to the empire above the emperor. He had appeared surprised, then mortified, as the scene in the audience chamber played out. So there was hope. If not, he would kill Nak himself. Once he managed an escape from his current captors, of course.

Attendant Tisna turned a corner, slowed her pace, then came to a stop. His guards followed suit.

“ You !” Who had put so much vitriol into Tisna’s single word?

His battle sense tingled at the base of his skull.

It was time to pay attention, because something was about to happen.

He raised his head and squinted at the being standing at the intersection of another corridor a short distance ahead.

An Undetan male dressed in a white, orange-trimmed uniform.

It appeared that his golden blond hair was swept back in a warrior’s knot.

A most unusual style choice for a supposedly neutral imperial attendant.

“Attendant Tisna.” The mysterious Undetan jutted his chin outward. “This is most unfortunate.”

Tisna made a sharp slashing motion with her hand. “Sentry, take Attendant Daarga into custody. They can share a cell.”

So, this was Nak’s missing Undetan friend? Interesting.

The sentry to his left released his arm and stepped around Tisna. Daarga shifted his blue-eyed gaze to meet his own.

‘Be ready.’

The words, spoken in Daarga’s voice, floated in his mind, yet the other had not spoken aloud. Adrenaline and anticipation surged through his veins, and he shifted his stance just enough to center his balance. For good or for ill, that was as ready as he could be to meet the unexpected situation.

As the sentry closed in, Daarga raised his hand and leveled a disrupter at him. A quick flash of light, and the Ragatian went down in an undignified, and very dead, heap.

‘Now, Warrior Baatar.’

He let his body go slack and fall forward. The sentry gripping his right biceps stumbled under his dead weight. If he could get the Ragatian unbalanced enough to release him, there was a chance…

His head snapped back, and pain burned over his scalp. A deep growl rumbled behind him, then his captor raised him into the air by his hair until their eyes were level. A most unfortunate turn of events.

The sentry drew back his lesser arm and thrust it forward. This would hurt much worse than being dangled in the air by his hair. The huge fist struck home in his gut, sending all the air in his lungs rushing out in a gust. Bile burned the back of his throat.

At least it had not been the male’s dominant arm’s fist, which was still wrapped tight in his hair. If Ulaani ever found out he had failed to factor the strength of a Ragatian’s smallest arm into his great escape, she would be unmerciful in her teasing.

A high-pitched squeal filled the corridor, and something small and brown streaked around the sentry’s legs. The Ragatian swung his dominant arm outward, then released its hold on his hair. He was suddenly airborne, sailing inexorably toward the wall like one of Zaali’s dolls.

Not again.

“ Oof .”

The force of impact sent pain shooting from his shoulder and down his arm.

Then his body slid down to the floor as if it had neither bones nor muscles.

The walls of this place were every bit as hard and cold as they appeared.

He should suggest to Kaitlyn the positives of using a softer, more forgiving material for her imperial complex.

If they both survived that long.

He placed one hand on the wall for balance as he pushed to his feet, then refocused his attention on the commotion unfolding in the passageway.

The brown blur parrying and slicing at the Ragatian’s calves was Nak, who had commandeered an appropriately scaled Kavian sword from somewhere.

The thick gray blood seeping from the wounds on his opponent’s legs proved he was trained in its usage.

A group of five imperial attendants stood a short distance away. Friends, or foes? Since they appeared ready to jump in to assist if the small warrior needed them, he would give them the benefit of the doubt. For now.

A screech like an angry raptor drew his attention away from the fight.

Attendant Tisna rushed toward him, a Ragatian fire-knife in her raised hand.

This was not good. Once a strike was made, those heinous weapons activated barbs that prevented them from being removed without causing substantial, and often fatal, damage.

He took an evasive step back as she swung. A burning sting seared through the muscles in his left biceps, and he sucked in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth. Damn. If he had been just a little faster…

The traitorous attendant shrieked again, lunged forward with her talons outstretched, then froze mid-step. A breath later, she crumpled to the floor.

Daarga lowered the disrupter and nodded once. “Finish it now, Warrior. We are out of time.”

He meant the other sentry, of course. As valiant as Nak was, his size prevented him from reaching the Ragatian sentry’s weakest point—its heart.

He closed his hand around the hilt of the fire-knife, the only weapon available to him, and gave it a vicious yank.

The barbs on the blade tore through his muscles and wet warmth flowed down his arm, but he could not stop now. Not with Kaitlyn’s life at stake.

He spun around, an Undetan battle cry on his lips as he rushed toward the sentry.

Nak ducked and rolled away, and the Ragatian raised all three of its fists, victory glowing in his red-black eyes.

How foolish of the male to believe he would not be the one dying in this carnage-filled corridor today.

He swung his arm in an upward arc and slammed the blade home.

The sentry opened his mouth and a sound like an avalanche decimating a mountainside forest in the dead of winter shook the air. A Ragatian death scream—and, in this case, the sound of success.

A blip of movement caught his attention, then the Ragatian’s secondary left fist connected with his temple. Stars exploded as his head snapped to the side. Darkness closed in from the edges of his vision.

Must stay conscious. Kaitlyn...

He blinked to clear his vision and stared up at the marble ceiling. Alive, but dazed.

A female appeared, her dark anxiety-filled eyes gazing down at him. Beautiful and familiar. Human. Name?

“Kaitlyn?” She must have escaped and found him. But… “Your hair?”

What had she done with all her long, beautiful, golden hair? It was gone. Or, mostly gone.

Her mouth was moving as if she were speaking, yet he could not process her words.

She lives, though!

And that was enough. A sigh of contentment drifted from him.

Crack!

The sting of her palm connecting with the bare skin of his injured arm jerked him to awareness. “Ow! Why did you strike me?”

“…sister?” Kaitlyn ground out the word through her clenched teeth. “Where. Is. My. Sister?”

Did she not see how busy he had been in the last few minutes? How was he to know where Kristyn was?

“Kristyn is with whoev—"

“Argh! No . Not me … Where is Kaitlyn ? My sister?”

Kaitlyn? What… He let his gaze fall to her neck. No birthmark. And her translator stone was clear, not pink like Kaitlyn’s. The pieces in his brain fell into place.

“You are not my Kaitlyn.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I’m her sister, Kris.”

As Kaitlyn would say, what the fuck?

He pushed himself to sit upright, then grasped Kristyn by her shoulders. “Explain how you came to be here.”

A point of cold metal pressed against his throat. The end of a blaster. He froze in place.

“Release her, Warrior.” Daarga’s low growl next to his ear backed up the blaster’s threat.

He uncurled his fingers from Kristyn’s shoulders, then lowered his hands to his thighs. “I would not harm her, Warrior Daarga.”

“I know.” Daarga withdrew the weapon. “But as her guardian, I would not take that chance anymore than you would for Kaitlyn.”

That was true.

The sound of tiny claws scampering over marble drew his attention to the Kavian hurrying toward them.

“Daarga!” Nak’s squeaky voice called out.

“I am he, Nak.” Daarga holstered his blaster as he stood to face his friend. “And yet I am not.”

The small Kavian attendant skidded to a stop and stood on his back legs, whiskers twitching. “Your scent…changed, it has.”

Kristyn sat back on her heels. “Can we talk about this later? Where’s Kait, lunkhead?”

Was that another human word for asshole? “In the imperial audience chamber.”

I hope.

He rolled to one side, then levered himself off the floor. Pain throbbed at the stab site in his arm, but the flow of blood seemed to have slowed, which was odd. At least the fire-blade had missed artery and bone.

Lucky.

The not-so-lucky Ragatian sentries and Attendant Tisna lay still on the floor, a pool of blood growing under the one he and Nak had stabbed. Nearby, the other imperial attendants who had shown up with Nak hovered.

“They can be trusted.” Daarga extended the fire-blade toward him, hilt first. “You will need this for what you are about to face, friend.”

“I thank you…friend.” He accepted the weapon.

Thrusting it upward toward the ceiling, he released a roar. More battle cries filled the corridor as he charged forward. The others fell in behind him as he raced to meet his destiny.

This time, I am not alone.