Page 45 of Infala: The Bonding Games
“Cool.” Ziana took the lead, walking them over to a table where two of the male competitors were cracking jokes as they played a game.
This wasnota high-stakes moment, and the bit of levity was something it looked as though neither had realized they needed but were both glad to enjoy. Their partners were at their sides, each seated by the pitcher of the alien energy drink, ready tooffer up a glass if they needed it. Ziana didn’t really think anything of it, even after they visited two other games that were set up pretty much the same. She was too busy learning the rules of how each piece moved as well as basic strategy. Amazingly, it really was like chess. And with the extra piece, which she learned moved similar to a queen, but with a few restrictions depending on the positioning of the opponent’s pieces, it might actually have been easier.
It was only when they reached Flagro’s table, the douchey elite delivering the coup de grâce against an elite named Bladzo of the House Dinokta, that the situation became clear.
“I’ve got next,” she said, her spirits still high from defeating him and his bitch of a sister in the day’s event.
Flagro looked up at her, glanced at his sister, with whom he shared quite a laugh, then turned his mirthful gaze back upon Ziana, all but ignoring Dorrin, at least for the moment.
“Oh, that’s cute. The female wishes to play.”
“What did you call me?” she growled, not one bit appreciating his tone or the way he called her afemaleas if she was some lesser being.
“You heard me.” He turned to Dorrin. “Surely, you must have explained to your uncouth partner how Bolaxis is played.”
Ziana didn’t wait for Dorrin to reply. “I know how it’s played,” she shot back. “Not so different from chess. And I’m a pretty good chess player.”
Flagro and the other elites burst out laughing, genuinely amused at her words. She quickly learned why.
“Youplay? Oh, silly female. Bolaxis is aman’sgame.”
Ziana looked around, the little oddity that had tickled the back of her mind but that she hadn’t really paid attention to suddenly becoming absurdly apparent. He was right. Only the men were playing. Women were simply seated beside them, waiting to serve them a drink if they needed.
Flagro watched her with amusement as she processed it all. “Ah, you see now. Good, you know your place.”
“My place is wherever I want it to be.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” the man sneered. “But you can be a good little partner and fetch a drink.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“Suit yourself. But only men play Bolaxis. It is a man’s game. A game of battle strategy and tactics. Something your female mind would not be able to comprehend.”
Ziana’s fist balled up, but Dorrin’s firm hand squeezed her shoulder as he gently pulled her back.
“She’s new here,” he said, pulling her further away from the man before she did something they would both regret. “She’s learning.”
“Yes, run away, foolish girl,” Galla called after her, nudging her brother with a wicked laugh. “Do not waste the time of your betters.”
This time it was Dorrin who nearly lost it. He took a deep breath, then turned his gaze on the siblings.
“It’s funny, but you know something?”
Flagro rested his chin on his hands, eyebrows mockingly arched. “Please, enlighten me.”
Dorrin locked his gaze on him, cold and steady. “My partner is a newcomer, totally unfamiliar with the games until mere days ago.”
“Yes, we’ve noticed. She?—”
“I wasn’t finished. Yes, she is new. And yes, she may not know all of our ways. But you know something quite funny about that?”
“What?”
“That means today you were not only beaten by a lowly commoner, which is humiliating in and of itself, but also by a woman you consider the lowest of the low. And yet she beatyou. Beatallof you. And I don’t know about you, but I was raised that actions speak louder than words, no matter how loud your empty words might be.” He squeezed Ziana’s shoulder and turned his back on the stammering elites. “Come on. I think we’ve wasted enough of our precious time listening to these poor deluded fools.”
They walked away, ignoring the stammering retorts thrown after them. They walked all the way back to their bungalow, and only once safely in its soundproof walls did they let loose the laughter they’d held inside, a moment of true and pure joy shared by them both.
“Thanks,” she said, squeezing his arm gently. “Thanks for standing up for me.”
