Page 118 of Sold to the Alien Smugglers

“Fools geena bladder, empty nak’ way back!”

Could the Aurelian’s knowledge of the Toad language have seeped through the Bond? Have I picked up some residual understanding of it?

My mind works to piece together these new pieces of the puzzle. Meanwhile, now buoyed with confidence, both Toads laugh at me.

“Two more gabnur wazni glub then kill all glem. Ha ha ha!” Lord Quavar is responding to Oblog’s previous statement.

Then, they fall quiet – although it’s not because they know I can partially understand their words.

The two Toad Lords turn their attention to me. I can feel their eyes burning into my skin.

“Return to your chambers,” Oblog orders me, in the Common tongue. “Don’tthinkabout anything. Don’t think – or that little mind of yours is going to get you in trouble.”

Despite the Aurelians being gone, his voice still doesn’t have that same, gloating edge to it. He’s thinking rationally now – and that’s when Lord Oblog is at his most dangerous. I’d rather he’d remained overconfident.

I stumble down the steps, clutching the hand branded with that ring. I mull over what the Toad Lord said. What does it mean?

Empty? Two? Kill?

Those were the words I recognized amid the guttural conversation he was having with Qavar.

I rub my fingers together as I think. The doors open ahead of me, and the two Toads that had originally brought me from my chambers stand there waiting, electro-prods in their hands. They cringe against the walls in the presence of the two Bullfrog guards at the door, even though the towering creatures utterly ignore them.

I narrow my eyes as I walk toward the door. I know the second those Toad guards lead me around the corner, away from those huge Bullfrog guards, I could make my move.

I could snatch those electro-rods from the guards, and then I’d be at even odds with them. I’m confident I could do it. Those two guards are expecting me to resist with the strength of a human woman – not one strengthened with my newfound Bond powers.

I tighten my fist around whatever Lucius gave me. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s going to help me in a fight. He wouldn’t have risked slipping it to me if it wasn’t vital to my safety.

But even in my resolve, I falter. The absence of the three Aurelians from my mind has me shaken.

Without them, I feel alone again – like the days right after when Ling was killed.

I straighten my spine. Ihaveto be strong.

“Come nab noo,” gurgles one of the Toads, and I blink as sounds become words inside my head. I marvel that I can now partially understand them. It’s subconscious – but inarguable.

I follow the Toad guards back to my room, my bare feet wading through the dirty water. I stop the guards at the doors, just as they open – and raise my hand to dissuade them from entering. It’s a bold move, but Tessa is on edge - and every time the Toads come near her, she gets worse.

For a second, the two Toads squint – and I know they’re thinking about using their electro-prods on me, just to teach me some respect. Then, with a shrug, they turn away – the door closing and locking as I step through it.

I know there’s no way to open that door from the inside. I’m here, alone with Tessa, until somebody elects to release us.

Tessa’s voice sounds the moment I walk through the door.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Her voice is weak, and she’s visibly shaking. The bowl of nutrient mush is still on the floor, and Tessa clearly didn’t even try to clean it up. She’s back in bed, the covers drawn around her.

“I’m okay,” I reassure her. “Don’t worry. Youaregoing to get out of here.”

But Tessa has the panicked eyes of a hunted animal.

I decide not to examine Lucius’ gift in front of her. There’s no trusting someone this scared. They’ll do anything to survive – and I know, because when Ling died, I felt the same.

Instead, I look down at my slime-covered feet and then make my way to the bathroom to wash them.

When I’m out of Tessa’s sight, I reach into my pocket and take out what Lucius risked everything to slip me. Whatever it is, it’s cold against my fingers – just like the ring Oblog forced onto my finger, which has molded itself to me and chills my bones with its frigid presence.

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