Page 308 of Scorching the Alien Empire
“Well,wethought it was funny,” I coo, stroking the sleepy Todd, his spindly legs stretching. “Didn’t we, you chunky bug-burrito?” He only lets out a tired little croak that definitely sounds like“No.”
Tough crowd.
“Ugh, I hope we find it soon,” I groan. “I mean, we didn’t pause ourDracie-Lexie-versetour just to miss the birth, right?”
“No,” Dracoth says, eyes scanning like a giant toddler who wandered too far from the picnic.
I squint. “We’re not lost,arewe?”
“No.”
“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
“No.”
I narrow my eyes at him like he’s a suspiciously symmetrical boulder someone glued a face onto. “Babes, give mesomethingto—”
Then I see it. A wide tree crests above the reddish grass. This one has windows. And adoor—an actual door!
“Oh!” I point. “I found it!”
Dracoth’s crimson eyes flick down to me, lingering for a sizzling moment. I meet his look with the most innocent cinnamon-bun smile in history, drizzled in syrup and absolutelyup to no good.
I suppress a giggle. At his reaction and this... house. It’s like the fattest tree in the galaxy mated with a royal lodge and popped out a hippy fever dream. The closer we get, the bigger it looks—towering like their own private arboreal apartment block.
We reach the ornate door. Dracoth raises his fist.
Suddenly, a wave of anxiety hits me like a surprise parking ticket. I clutch Todd and the wrapped gift tighter. Why do I feel like I’m showing up drunk to my judgiest aunt’s house?
BANG!
In typical Red Dragon fashion—the door flies open. Probably screamed on the way in.
“Babes,” I sigh. “Did you just break their house?” I grimace, realizing I sound suspiciously like Elder Ignixis.
Dracoth stares at his fist like it might explode. “The wood is weak.”
“Uh-huh.” I snort, stepping inside.
“Ooh!” I murmur like a startled cow.
The interior’s all dark, glossy wood, engraved and glowing faintly. Dozens of doors lead who-knows-where. Hand-painted portraits line the walls—young Big Chief Krogs and family in stiffposes. Immense fur rugs lie like they were peeled off Godzilla’s fluffier cousin. The place reeks of old money and polished hardwood.
Verycrusty country clubvibes.
“Hey, this place might be better than—”
SCREEEEEEE!
A piercing siren shrieks. I wince, covering Todd’s head. His brain isnoton board.
“WHAT. THE—”
“Intruder detected.... Medium contamination potential.... Class Large Pest.... Deploying countermeasures...”
Oh no.
A dozen sleek, black ovoid drones zip from hidden compartments like murder jellybeans with trust issues.
