Page 46 of Bonded Queen: to the Alien Warlord Triad

The floor is concrete. In the middle of the gym is a huge black square, the stone different. There are three more of the black figures, but these ones have fully formed legs and feet, connecting to the ground. They have long black blades in their hands, and they stand immobile.

Across from them is what I crave. The showers. I can see it through a set of doorways. Even Aurelians have to shower off after training, and that’s what this must be. It’s only, what, thirty feet away?

I look back longingly down the tunnel I just came from. All I have to do is go back, and I can sit and wait, but I’ve got dust from rubble covering my body, and there’s a stickiness running down my legs that embarrasses me.

I can walk by the twenty dark figures to the right, the creepy black cubes, or the three tall shadowy forms with blades in their hands. I step forward, and it’s like my feet are moving in quicksand, my instincts telling me to stay away from those giant, humanoid forms.

Deep breaths. Don’t panic—or you’ll distract the triad.

The black figures to the right are probably for unarmed combat. Basically punching bags. Now that I’ve come up with a logical purpose for them, it relaxes me. They didn’t fill the underground rooms with some sort of weird horrific guard that kills all non-Aurelians. The cubes on the other hand? I can’t fathom why they are there, and I get a terrifying vision of them slowly hovering and spinning, faster and faster, until they are a blur…

So I’ve got the choice. Weird black cubes—no thanks. Twenty creepy robots or three creepy robots? Let’s go with the smaller number.

I step forward, my gait lighter, and cross into the black square.

“And so that’s where they train with their Orb-Blades,” I whisper to myself. It’s too damn quiet, and it’s good to hear myself speak.

“Activating Orb-Blade training sequence.”The AI is heavily accented, speaking common in the lilting tones more suited to High Aurelian.

The three black figures jolt upright as one. Their eyes glow grey, twin points of light in their otherwise blank visages. Their blades spark to life, humming with electric energy, and they move, gliding towards me.

I raise the shard of wine-soaked wood as if it can ward them off. “Stop! Stop training!”

The three figures stop five feet away from me, their blades pointed eerily towards me. My heart pounds hard.

“What’s happening? Are you okay?”I gasp as Orr’s voice bounces in my mind.

“What the fuck!”I think the thoughts in sheer panic, more surprised by hearing another person’s voice in my head than by activating the ancient combat robots. Somehow, the thought feels different. More direct. I’ve only ever thought for myself before.

“Your aura is filled with terror. Are you in danger?”

“No, I’m…wait.” It was so easy the first time when I was projecting my thoughts in panic.“I’m okay, I…dammit! Just thinking to myself.”

I focus on Orr’s aura in my mind.“I’m okay. I just got scared for Nash and Raneeda,”I lie, and this time my thoughts are different, more direct.

I’m going to have to learn to control my emotions. I learned how to hide my distaste and frustration in ten years serving Princess Bitch, but the entire time, I was able to imagine throwing her out of the window. Now, not even my mind is safe. I can’t have the three of them knowing my every feeling.

“I am almost there. The damage looks minimal at the base of the spire.”He gives me the report like a soldier to another, his aura returning to cold focus as he continues his mission.

Phew.

“Well fuck you too,” I say to the three hulking forms in front of me, their blades inert. I breathe out a sigh, and now that I know how they turn on and off, I’m not as scared of them, but I stop short of running my hand over the flat of the blade. It looks dull, but with three of those huge combat droids or whatever they are wailing on me, I’m not sure I would have survived.

I walk to the side of the room with the cubes, keeping as far away from the shadowy forms as possible. When they don’t start hovering and spinning, they look more like little toys. I resist the urge to pick up one of the smallest cubes and walk through the doors to the bathroom. There’s a row of showers big enough for Aurelians, without shower doors. I guess the aliens don’t care much for privacy. I’m in desperate need of a shower, and if the killer robots that want to bludgeon me to death still work, these damn showers better as well.

I walk into the nearest shower. The walls are grey, and instead of a nozzle, there’s just a bunch of holes in the roof. “Turn on, shower!” I say, in my most commanding voice.

Nothing.

I was surprised the combat AI could understand me. Orr tinkered with the control panel in the entrance hall, and he must have linked it to my voice. So why the hell isn’t this shower turning on? I look for a manual handle, a control panel, anything, but the walls are bare.

There’s a hiss. A half second later, I’m blasted by a fire-hose of freezing cold water. I scream and jump out, shivering and soaked.

“Warm, warm,” I plead. These damn showers are more deadly than the combat bots. I wait until there’s steam coming from the shower before I step in grumpily.

I stare out at the bathroom. There’s a row of sinks, the counter annoyingly high, built for the tall aliens. The gym could fit a hundred aliens easily. Well, ninety-nine, I guess, since they come in threes. All this time, this place existed under the palaces.

What if some Aurelians lived down here, biding their time for hundreds of years, waiting to take back control?

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