Page 3 of Taken to Lemora
Can endure.
Meanwhile, I’m trapped in this ohring tunic made out of a silk that came from a bug that lives deep in the earth of Quadrant Four and has three butts through which it excretes said silk and no eyes. “You’re looking as pleased as ever,” he says, spreading all four of his silver arms and beaming at me with his shiny teeth.
I grunt, upper lip lifting in a snarl.
When his smile holds, my shoulders slump forward, defeated. “What do you want?”
He doesn’t answer right away, but the massive silver orbs of his eyes shift left then right. His lips stutter as he spots an Oroshi captain walking by with its guard — afemale. The Oroshi spots Tevbarannos, too, and gives him a subtle wave of one tentacle when it passes by — a look I would never win, not even from a creature that is all green-grey tentacles and nothing else. Herannathon, another pirate I admire, once told me it’s because I don’t smile and look around at everyone like I’m one wrong word away from committing a brutal, bloody murder, but I know what I look like.
Like a rock.
But ohr what I look like. We Lemoran are the best species in these eight quadrants. Decent, hardworking beings with honor woven into our rocky outer skin, and threaded through the pink blood we bleed. Not like these honorless pirates with their four arms and their bright smiles, and even less like these gaudy quadrant one morons with their one thousand princes and one billion princesses, and even less like the spineless Oroshi who are, well, quite literally spineless.
“What are you doing here? Last time I saw Rhorkanterannu, he told me that he’d rather be caught in an Oosa orgy than ever come back to Quadrant One.”
“Better an Oosa orgy than an Oroshi one.” Tevbarannos shudders and continues watching the Oroshi until it disappears up the stairs and out of view.
I try to picture what coupling with an Oroshi would be like and immediately retreat from the image. “I suppose you’re right,” I huff.
Tevbarannos laughs easily. All the ohring pirates laugh easily… “I’m actually looking for someone.”
When he doesn’t say more, I roll my eyes. “Good luck with that.” I stomp off, but he shouts after me, “You haven’t seen any Egama here have you?”
“Of course I have! They’re giants — bigger than I am. They’re hard to miss.” I wave him off and stomp towards the stairs, but he rushes after me and shocks the ohr out of me when he grips my bicep and tries to lead me somewhere to the left. “What are you doing?” I remain rooted and glare at him with a frown.
He cocks his head and gives me a pleading look, but when I still don’t budge, his look turns frustrated. He crosses his lower arms over his chest, and then his upper ones on top of those. “You are a stubborn brute. Herannathon warned me about that.”
I’m curious as to where Herannathon is, but the words damn themselves behind my teeth. My horns are aching again, more noticeably now. I growl and start to walk away, up the stairs where I can see Oosa rolling back and forth over the floor — they’re gelatinous-looking blue beings and I hate conversing with them. They always want to have sex with each other mid-interaction! Realizing they’re blocking almost the entire landing above me, my shoulders sink even more.
Suddenly, Tevbarannos is there, politely asking the Oosa to move out of his way. He catches my gaze when he has a path cleared and ushers me forward — not towards the divan with Quadrant Five warriors spread across it engaged in a gambling round of mok-biz with some Hypha delegates — bright orange creatures that walk on two feet, have two hands, and are made remarkable by the set of fins that shoot out of their heads in every direction,andthat are the second most populous species of Lemora — but toward a less crowded hallway.
Here, he catches my elbow with his lower left hand and drops his voice to a whisper, “I just wanted to tell you that if you stick around, you’ll run into Igmora and Tyto.” He makes a face that I can’t interpret, but when his eyes shift nervously, I frown.
“What do I care? They’re flesh peddlers. We don’t have any occasion to trade with them. Goodbye.”
“Wait.” His grip tightens on my arm. “Have you seen her?”
“Her who?”
“Their newest…acquisition.” He has the decency to look embarrassed and drop his gaze as he says that.
Meanwhile, my face is burning for entirely different reasons and all of them come down to rage. “You mean the sex female they’re looking to sell? Nob! I told you already, I don’t deal in females. On Lemora we males believe in coming by our females the old fashioned way. Through hard-earned courtship!”
I start away again, until he says so quietly I almost miss it, “I heard that the female they have for sale is ahuman.” Human…I haven’t heard of that species before and I thought I’d heard of everything.
And though I don’t give an ohring ohr, a tight pressure fills my horns, all the way through to the tip before rattling back down and settling in with a dull, aching throb. It’s an ache which only gets worse as I turn away. It makes me wonder something ridiculous! Incredulous! Outlandish. Ha-ha-worthy…
If maybe, just this once, I should give this bawdy pirate my attention and actuallylistento him.
“Human? What’s human?” I say despite my best effort.
Tevbarannos closes the space between us and speaks like he’s divulging sacred rites. “A new species class, they’re under Voraxian and Niahhorru protection. They are…um…very…I mean the females…they’re um…soft?”
I wait. He doesn’t say more. “Are you asking me?” I shout at him. The nerve! Pagh!
“Centare,” he says, shaking his head. “I mean.” The hard plates that cover portions of his chest lift — a Niahhorru sign of embarrassment. I throw my hands in the air, remembering that even though I am the youngest clan chief, I’m still several rotations older than Tevbarannos. He’s the youngest pirate I’ve met that counts among Rhorkanterannu’s inner circle. Rhorkanterannu is the pirate king of Kor, though I’d never dare say that to his face. Pirates look down on kings. Absently, I wonder what they think of clan chiefs and less-than-quietly harrumph.
“Out with it, Tevbarannos!” I roar.
