Page 96 of Exiles on Earth
“Get back! I’m okay,” I reassure him, but his scales flash to a deep red like an angry burn.
“I’ll be right there, Ellen,” he bellows, dodging out of the way of another swipe from the yellow guy and putting himself between us. Yellow charges, shoving his shoulder into Ilia’s chest. My headphones were taken from me, so I can’t understand what they snarl between them. I gasp as Ilia’s feet slide back in the loam, plants whipping out vines and spikes toward him. I swallow a scream. The spikes bend backward from his scaled-up skin, although the vines wrap around his ankles firmly.
Ilia pushes the yellow alien, muscles standing out and scales flickering to blood-red colors.
I hope he doesn’t get hurt because of me. My eyes sting with tears. Vines twist around Ilia’s calves and up his thighs, tying him in place. Yellow raises his spike high, bellowing.
Ilia flings his arms up to intercept, catching the barb in the glowing chain between his manacles. He twists away, and yellow is dragged forward, right into Ilia’s headbutt. Ilia grabs him by the throat, heaving him up to eye level.
The dazed yellow alien repeats something, and Ilia’s fist clenches, then lets him go. Yellow backs off, rubbing his neck,then circles wide. He keeps his eyes averted and disappears somewhere behind me.
Ilia hacks at the tendrils holding him down with the spike, then picks his way carefully through the plants, warding away other questing vines with hands still in cuffs.
“So… hi.” I say. He looks okay, except for the fact he’s chained up. “This is something to do with the games.”
“Correct.” He stops a pace away from me, frowning at the cloth binding me to the pole.
“Why are you in restraints? Again?”
“It was considered a suitable handicap,” Ilia says, patient as ever with the restrictions placed against him.
“Figures.” I tug at my bindings. “I don’t suppose you’d mind freeing me?”
“Of course, but there’s a forcefield around you to protect you from the garden.” Ilia grabs a leaf and brushes it in the air between us. It sizzles immediately, red and black rings radiating out from it in ripples. They make a dome around me.
“So I was safe the whole time.” My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I click my tongue. “Ah well, nothing I can do about it now.”
“The Prif. She targeted you.” He grimaces, swatting something from the air. It scrapes against the forcefield and crashes to the ground, smoking. A little stone-shaped hunk of metal. “A vid feed, so this is all televised,” Ilia explains.
“Oh, cool. Screaming human female, news at ten.” Now I can’t help the tears pressing at my eyes. “Ilia, I want to go home. I don’t like it here.” I hate that they do this at all. I hate he’s in chains again, that they all look down at him, that he’s forced to do this.
He takes one look at my face, at me breaking down, and it seems to snap something inside him.
He looks around wildly. “Enough!” he shouts to the sky. “She has had enough!” He says more words in the alien language, his face a mixture of anger and disgust.
I gape. He’ll take heaps of abuse piled on him, but the second any gets leveled at me, he fights back.
But he’s shouting at females, and I know he can’t do that.
The plinth I’m on shudders. “Ilia!” I scream as I descend, the starhounds howling beside me, leaving him alone in the killer garden.
Underneath I’m released,the males making soothing noises as I come out fists swinging. They avoid me, raising their empty hands and strobing calming blue greens across their bodies.
I’m having none of it. “I want to go home!” I know they can’t understand me, but shouting definitely helps vent the boiling inside. I’ve never been so livid, even in the face of banks and developers, but this is it. My line has been crossed, and now Ilia might be in trouble. “I am out of here, and I’m taking Ilia with me!”
More soothing noises as they guide me toward the showers. They hold out towels and bow, indicating I should go first, unable to approach because not only am I bristling, but so are Rex and Floss next to me.
She seems a bit confused, though. ‘These did nothing against us, they have no say.’
“You’re right.” I feel silly then, shouting at the underlings and abusing them when they have no power here. I shower, girding myself for the real perpetrators as I soap my hair and skin.
“Take me to your leaders,” I say, gritting my teeth.
They don’t understand but they bring me upstairs anyway, escorting me to the elevator.
When I come out of it, Shara paces right outside her penthouse with my headphones in hand.
“Thank goodness,” she says once they’re on my ears and I can comprehend everyone around me again. “I could see you were scared, I’m sorry I couldn’t reassure you that you would be safe.”
