Page 4 of Taken to Kor
Mathilda needs Svera out of the picture because Svera knows things she shouldn’t. She knows what Mathilda did to the colony women. She knows she’s been killing them and selling their babies to the exiled scum called Bo’Raku — Pogar. That’s what I heard her say his true name was. And his son, Peixal, is the one who took over the position of Bo’Raku and continued the awful practice of the Hunt. At least, until he met Kiki…
But Rhork knows me. We’ve been talking for almost half a rotation now — that’s two hundred solars! He’s taught me how to speak Meero almost fluently. He’s described to me galaxies much farther away than this one. He’s told me about water. About oceans. He’ll listen to me. Right? He’s made me laugh.
I’ve made him laugh.
He likes me.
“Rhork, please,” I beg, the goons on my arms holding me back as I try to propel myself towards him and the black and clear ship looming like a monstrosity behind him. A Niahhorru pirate ship, in the flesh.It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Except maybe for Rhork himself…“I’m asking you. I’m telling you. I’ll do theshekurr. Take me instead.”
The ritual doesn’t exactly appeal to me. Having sex with a dozen or more Niahhorru pirates at once — for them, an honor — for most humans, a horror in the making. But I’d do it if it meant I got to have Rhork to myself just once.
My cheeks burn with the thought. And then they burn for another reason entirely when Mathilda strides up to me and gives my right cheek a good whack.
My head spins and I get dizzy for a moment, letting my weight fall onto the guys holding me. Human guys working for Mathilda. Cowards. I hate them. When I look up, Rhork has his weapon pointed at Mathilda like he’s got every intention of pulling the trigger. My heart beats harder. Is he…could he be…upset that she hit me? My insides squeak at the thought. It makes me want her to hit me again, just so I can see his reaction. Nobody’s ever cared about me before. Nobody.
“Those who harm females in my presence tend to lead very short, painful lives,” he whispers, his teeth flashing in the harsh sunlight.
Mathilda simpers,“Rhorkanterannu, your Grace…”
Ooohhh. Big mistake. Pirates are pirates. Pirates look down on kings.
As Rhork tells her as much, Mathilda makes her way forward, palms upturned, arms outstretched. She apologizes like the slithery snake that she is, and then she says something that I should have expected, but didn’t.
She tells him I’m a virgin and that I’m available, for the right price.
I’m your granddaughter.
I don’t know why those are the words that come to me first, but they are, and because the second thought that strikes like a viper is that Mathilda killed her own daughter — my mother — so why should she give a shit about the blood that runs between us? I manage to use the second thought to trap the first thought behind the gate of my teeth. Instead, I just glare at her while heat ravages my cheeks and tears build in my eyes. Not sad tears, of course. But pissed as shit tears. I decide then and there that it would please me to see this woman die.
At least, itshouldplease me.
She’s my family. And she just tried to sell me.
And then my hatred for my grandmother evaporates like smoke in the face of something far more dreadful. After a lengthy pause, Rhork says,“Centare. I don’t want her.”
I choke. Gag. Everything I thought I knew comes crumbling to the ground around me.Everything. Because Mathilda’s hatred and her impish ire and her malice are all things I know as well as the dark brown lines crisscrossing over my palm. But Rhork has shown me nothing but kindness since I’ve known him and this is the fall.
I start to fall.
The blow Rhork just struck has only grazed the surface. He isn’t finished with me yet. The blade in my gut twists and, if it weren’t for the goons holding my arms, I’d have brought my hands up to try to staunch the flow of emotions from the wound, from my shredded and torn chest.
“She is defective,” Rhork says and I know he means my leg. It’s twisted from that time that I was six and Mathilda broke it so I wouldn’t have to participate in the Hunt. I loved Mathilda then. She hurt me, but I loved her. Just like Rhork. Only he didn’t break my leg, he cut both my legs out from under me.
Because I’m insane to love monstrous things.
Never again.
“I could not even give her away at the slave auction. Release her. She is not even worth the ebo it would take to keep her fed.”
Mathildalaughs and orders her goons to release me. I break free and flip them off and as I look back at Rhork it’s with a knowing that he’s just as bad as her. I run off into the desert, but when I have to decide between going back to the colony and telling everyone what happened or doing something more reckless, I take the crazier of the two decisions.
I climb over the pile of rocks and sneak onto Rhork’s ship, using the token in my ear to guide my entry. Defective? I’ll show him defective when I ruin all of his plans and free the human he took instead of me.
He should have taken me.
Yes. He should have taken me.
I stare down at my leg. It isn’t obvious in the jeans I’m wearing that it’s all scarred, but underneath I know what I look like. Worse than the scars that wrap around my leg like coiled snakes though, is the fact that the bone didn’t heal right, so my foot is angled out to the side unnaturally. It gives me a limp when I walk, but that’s never stopped me.
