Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Morning came early, the skylights letting the first rays illuminate the bungalow throughout. It was a far more pleasant way to wake than an alarm clock, the gradual brightening gently pulling Ziana from her deep and particularly restful slumber.

She opened her eyes, languorously stretching in her clean bed. The fresh sheets on her skin felt amazing, and more than just her knees and elbows seemed to have recovered during the night. Apparently, the healing salve had worked on a systemic level as well as where she'd had spot treatments applied, and all of the formerly irritated spots where she'd been tattooed felt almost as good as new.

She rolled over and glanced at the sizable mountain of a man in the other bed. Dorrin was awake, lying still, looking up at the sky through the skylight, his face utterly calm and peaceful. It was, she realized, the first time she'd seen him in a pure and relaxed state. She didn't want to ruin the moment, keeping her mouth shut, but he was quite aware she'd roused.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked without shifting his upward gaze.

"I did, actually. Surprisingly well."

"The nutrition and salve did their work, then. Good. It will be a challenging day today. With such limited time to prepare you, the work will be particularly intense."

"Grrrreat," she grumbled, shifting to her side.

"You may rest a short while longer, if you wish. We have time."

"Thanks. I'm still getting my bearings."

"Clearly."

He slid from his bed and rose to gather his clean set of clothing from the small nightstand table situated between their beds, still completely nude and not the least bit shy about it. Ziana nearly gasped at the abrupt sight of him in all his glory, his cock swinging within arm's reach, and nearly at face level, affording her an even better view of it. It really was remarkably alien. And, she noted, each of the raised bulbous areas seemed to swell slightly as his morning blood flow reached his nether regions. She also felt the heat radiating off it despite its flaccid state.

I wonder how much hotter it gets when he's worked up , she wondered, taking in the rest of him.

There was another scar, she noted. Long and jagged on his left thigh. And still another on his abdomen, smaller, but it looked as if the injury had been deep. The rest of his physique was equally fascinating, but in a different way. His tattoos were the same pattern as she'd seen on everyone else, at least for the most part. But, apparently, some were occasionally added to or improved, the hope being to increase one's abilities, strengths, or who knew what else. In his case, his body was a gorgeous roadmap of muscles and the flowing lines connecting his rune tattoos running with their natural form.

Ziana felt a little ball of heat stirring in her belly.

Don't even think it , she warned herself, shifting her gaze to her pile of clothes as he began donning his own attire. She was still very aware just how naked she was under those sheets, but they were literally chained together and by the time this was all over with she was pretty sure any novelty or insecurity of it would be quite gone, driven out by the pure necessity of the situation.

Well, here goes nothing, she grumbled to herself then slid out from under her sheets.

Dorrin paused, looking her over, his eyes taking her in top to bottom in a long glance. He nodded, satisfied by what he saw. "You are more fit than I initially thought. There may be some hope for you yet."

"Uh, thank you?" she said, quickly sliding into her clothes but fumbling the novel seam closure system.

"No. Like this," he said, reaching out and pressing the edges together on her left flank until the material sealed tight.

"Thanks."

"You must become proficient in this. It is the most basic of things but if you cannot even dress and undress yourself, we will have a problem should you need to assess an injury while in the midst of the games."

"That happens?"

"Oh, yes. But we can hope to avoid such situations. For the most part, at least. Now, you do the rest."

"I can dress myself, you know."

"Your words are one thing, but your actions are quite another."

"I'm just tired, okay? Jeez, give me a break. I only just woke up, and this is a new kind of clasp system."

"It is the most basic of skills, dressing oneself."

"Don't treat me like a child."

"Of course," he said, his gaze shifting from annoyed to slightly appreciative of her form for a split-second. "You are clearly no child."

"Thank you."

"But your abilities are lacking like one."

"Oh, give it a rest, man. Seriously? At least let a girl have some coffee before you start in with this shit."

"Coffee?"

Ziana shook her head. Of course there wasn't coffee on this world, but the thought of a nice hot cup made her mouth water as the phantom scent wafted through her mind.

"It's something we drink in the morning to help wake us up back on my world."

Dorrin cocked his head slightly, nodding. "Ah, you require a cup of hot Koodzus. Some find it a useful adjunct to their morning repast."

"Koodzus?"

"I will prepare you a cup. But be warned, it is rather bitter."

"If it's got caffeine in it, I'll deal."

He waited for her to finish dressing, refraining from any further comment on her lack of skill with the simple task, then led her to the kitchen area. It was a part of the bungalow she hadn't really had the opportunity to examine thoroughly, but he moved through it with the familiarity of one who had stayed in the competitors' area on many occasions.

The Koodzus was dispensed from a spigot built into the countertop, hot and fragrant as it filled the cup. The same system then dispensed a glass of cold and cloudy liquid for him.

"Does that thing handle all of our drinks?"

"Yes," he said, handing her the cup. "Be careful, it is hot."

"I know how to drink," she said, taking a cautious sip.

The flavor was bitter but not unpleasant, almost like unsweetened cocoa in the way it had a subtle almost sweetness that only needed a tiny bit of sugar to be released.

"Hey, do you have anything to make this sweeter?"

"There," he said, pointing to an almost imperceptible seam on the countertop. "Press there. Use the yellow powder."

She did as he said, pushing on the counter. A small section rose, on it a collection of little jars with powders and liquids. An alien spice rack she assumed, taking the yellow powder he'd mentioned and opening the top. It didn't have any smell, so she dipped her fingertip and tasted it.

"Oh, that's interesting. Almost like powdered caramel," she noted, tapping some into her beverage where it blended in instantly without even requiring a spoon to stir it. She took another sip, the bittersweet warmth hitting her tastebuds in the most wonderful way "Oh, yeah. Now that's what I'm talking about."

"Do not drink too much. It can be a bit much for some races and we do not know how your kind reacts."

"Got it. Go easy. I'll just have the one cup for now," she replied, already feeling a bit of a caffeine-like buzz tingling in her body. But it was different. Not jittery, but rather a warming of her core, making it feel as though her blood flow was somehow steadier and more energized but without that caffeine edge. "I like this stuff. Thanks."

"I am glad it is to your liking."

"It is. Now, what do we do about food?"

"We have two options. Our quarters are furnished with a fully stocked larder should we wish to prepare our own meals, but there are also the communal tables available from morning until night. As it is early in the games, it does not really matter which we choose, but later, when the numbers are reduced and strategy is discussed, it is advisable to eat on our own more often than not."

"Got it. But for now it's not an issue?"

"Correct. A large assortment is available for your selection."

She liked the sound of that. If she was going to be working even half as hard as Dorrin had made her yesterday, she'd need every bit of energy she could ingest. Fortunately, the food they were offered was tailored to meet their restorative needs. That it was really tasty on top of that was just icing on the cake.

Cake. Hell, if they were going to be going at it like this, she could afford a slice or two without batting an eye. I suppose at least there's a silver lining , she decided.

As it turned out, there would be cake, and after the next several days of training she had burned so many calories that no matter what she ate Ziana could feel her body hardening as her muscles grew stronger while the jiggle from so many weeks of sedentary life aboard the transport container had already begun to melt away.

Dorrin was working her hard, pushing her to her limits every chance he could, forcing her to perform well beyond what she thought her limitations to be.

"Your runes give you more strength. You must trust in that new power and use it," he kept reminding her as she struggled to climb a rope, scale a rock face, or keep up on a hard run.

"But I don't feel different."

"Yet you are," he said, pointing to the runes visible on her arms. "Perhaps your kind does not react strongly to the pigments, but there should be at least some improvement. Surely you feel something ."

She hated to tell him, but the answer was a very resounding no , she did not feel a thing. So, instead of making this into a bigger deal than it already was, she did what she'd sworn she would never do again, at least not in the bedroom.

She faked it.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, you're right. I do feel something. I think it's just taking longer for my body to really get used to it, is all. But I'll get there."

"Good. Without your runes' help, we will not stand a chance in the later events. Now, follow close. We have a long day ahead of us, starting with your first try of the multi-discipline obstacle training area."

"Why does that sound foreboding?" she asked with an uneasy laugh.

"Because it is not easy. A challenge of balance and strength, but also teamwork." He pointed to her chafed wrist. "You fight the cuff. Our pairing. The more you do so, the harder it will be to work as a team. And make no mistake, the only way we progress is together. See the others?" he asked, gesturing toward Flagro and Obliosa as the brother and sister ran and jumped with perfect synergy.

"Not a fair comparison. They've been doing this together for years."

"True, but that does not lessen what you can learn from them. Look how they move. How they anticipate one another's body positions and work around their cuffs rather than fighting them."

"I thought you said they had special cuffs that let them cheat."

"They do, but even the elites must follow the rules, at least in the public eye. And there are many spectators watching us in the training grounds. On the course itself, however, there are blind spots, and the five families are very aware of where they are located."

"Because they arranged them?"

"You're catching on."

"I'm a fast learner."

"Oh? Then let's see."

He started running toward the course, Ziana lurching into motion slightly behind and to the side. If she was right behind him she couldn't see where they were going, and they hadn't built nearly enough trust for her to run at full speed not seeing what was coming up next. One day, perhaps, but this was definitely not it.

They ran toward an elevated platform. Scaling it wasn't a problem. Running along the log linking it to the next one, however, was. Dorrin stepped onto the log with confidence in his stride, slowing slightly, always aware of his partner's shortcomings and forcing himself to hold back so that she might keep up. Ziana followed as close as she felt comfortable, but she started taking faster but shorter steps, second guessing his stride as he moved, his body blocking her view of what lay ahead.

"Stay in sync," he growled over his shoulder. "Your rhythm is off."

"I can't see where I'm going."

"You are following me. That is all you need to do."

Ziana didn't like it, but she did just that, at least as best she could, as the duo jogged the course, passing close to other training competitors as they did.

"You run slow, Dorrin," Flagro called out with a laugh.

"Fast enough to beat you," he shot back.

Flagro and his sister quickened their pace as if to make a point. "Not while you're dragging that anchor, you won't," Galla added with a snicker, mirroring her brother's malicious mirth.

Ziana felt her anger flare. She wasn't about to take that. Not from that bitch.

"I'm not an anchor!"

"Sure you aren't," the woman called back with a laugh as the siblings showed off their skills. "Don't fall, anchor. You'll sink right to the bottom."

She had been so focused on Dorrin's back that she hadn't really paid attention to what was below them. They were a good five meters up, give or take, and as she looked down at the murky water now below them as they crossed over a swampy marsh area, she realized they had been slowly traveling upward, increasing their height so subtly she hadn't really noticed.

An abrupt yank on her wrist yanked her back to reality just as it sent her flying, the cable between them snapping tight. Dorrin fought to keep his balance, but the full weight of the falling woman pulled him right off his feet, the two of them tumbling down into the muck with a mighty splash.

Flagro and Galla actually stopped to watch, as did the others training nearby. Just as bad, if not worse, the spectators watching the training session were pointing and laughing as well. It was about as humiliating as it could possibly have been.

Dorrin popped up from the muck with an angry glare in his eyes. "What the hell are you doing?"

Ziana wiped the mud from her face, spitting out the brackish water as best she could. "You pulled me off, that's what."

"No, you pulled me off. I lead, you follow."

"I was following."

"You were not paying attention. If your stride is not in sync with mine, if you do not match the swing of your arms," he gave the cable a tug, dragging her off her feet to prove his point. "This is a team event. You work with me. Anything less is not acceptable."

With that he turned and began wading toward the shoreline, Ziana trudging after him, trying her best to tune out the laughter carrying across the muddy water.

Dorrin was much less forgiving after that, pushing her hard and forcing her to perform until her body screamed with soreness. Then he did it again. Harder. Faster. Making her focus on not only agility and speed training, but also finesse and even a little tactics, though that mostly consisted of choosing which route would be the least difficult as they moved through the wooded and rocky sections of the course.

Then it was lunch, hydration, a little rest, and back to it all over again, followed by dinner, a shower, and a healthy slathering of healing salve, Ziana's poor body needing every drop of it after the ordeal. And come morning? They'd do it all again.

It went on like that for nearly two weeks, longer than she'd thought she'd have, frankly. It was the same thing every day, Dorrin gruffly pushing her through her paces, Ziana struggling to keep up, and the two of them constantly taunted by not only Flagro and his sister but the other elites as well. Apparently, Dorrin had a longstanding grudge with all of them, stemming from something in their shared past. What it was, however, he wouldn't say. All she knew was this was no mere game. It was personal, and she was stuck in the middle of it, and once the games started for real, it would only get worse.