24. Hide and Seek

The other jewelshave dressed me in what Yiskku says is "befitting my station."

I stand there, with golden chains cascading over my shoulders and bare chest. To accessorize further, they painted my nipples with a coat of gold when I declined their offer to pierce them. It sounds fun, don't get me wrong, but fun is the furthest thing from my mind. Pierced nipples or not, just like all the other women, my chest is exposed to the world.

"If Kitaico prevails, let me—the sensations will be worth it in the long run," Yiskku whispers to me. Her tone, always tinged with annoyance, reminds me of what having an older sister might feel like.

Is she annoyed by my mere existence? Of course, but I think she wants the best for me all the same.

"I think he likes my nipples just fine," I laugh, but a wave of guilt washes over me, instantly dampening the lighthearted moment.

As we walk down the hall, the metal censer swung by the Andjin religious leader releases a cloud of fragrant incense smoke.

I won't allow myself to be happy until I can be sure he's safe. With a determined look on my face, I take on a solemn attitude as we are guided down the hall toward the arena viewing tower, my heart beating faster with each step.

I don't know if the onlookers are a regular occurrence or if the Andjin are simply curious about the human usurper, but the sight of the crowds lining the halls as we pass by is unsettling. They crane their necks to get a glimpse, some bowing their heads as we walk by.

Despite the reverence in which I'm now being viewed, it can't help but make me think of the past.

In a humid and smoky space nightclub, the leering aliens gathered around, their curious gazes darting back and forth, consuming me with their eyes as I writhed in my security bubble, my system loaded up with aphrodisiacs. Nothing more than meat. I was something to be ogled.

Even though the Andjin keep telling me that to be a jewel is to be revered, it's been a living hell to be separated from Kitaico. The heat suppressants work, thankfully, but I know for sure that my feelings for him run deeper—the kindhearted goofy alien really is my mate.

And this march to the arena is killing me—to know that I might never touch him again. I can only pray that this isn't Kitaico's funeral procession.

My feet slow as we approach the viewing bay for the arena, and I feel warmth at my palm.

When I look down, Yiskku"s pale chartreuse hand is wrapped around my own.

"Come, whatever his fate is, we'll know soon," she mutters as she drags me through the doorway.

"How can you do it? How can you watch them die?" My breath sticks in my throat like paste, thick and bitter.

"Because they're fighting for us, and it would be shameful not to honor that fight." Her eyes shine with some hidden sadness.

"If he dies, I can't —" I struggle to get the words out.

"You're a jewel. Despite your species, you are the best of anyone on the Korlyan Moon. You will be taken care of, but you must be brave." As her face shifts, a stony mask settles upon her emotions, hiding any sign of vulnerability. "Come."

Yiskku deposits me in a chair next to Chancellor Hirouz. I gulp down my sadness, clearing my throat and try my best to keep it together. I can feel a small polite smile creep over my lips, but I know my eyes are vacant. My best midwestern dissociation face settles in. It must unnerve the chancellor, because at first his brows knit. But his expression softens as he hands me a glass of something strong smelling.

"Thru'ik liquor, to calm your nerves," he says plainly.

I want to hate him for putting Kitaico and me in this position, but like almost everyone else I've encountered here, he's kind. I sniff the cup, and it reminds me a bit of vodka. I swallow it down eagerly, hoping it tastes like home, but the alcohol sears my insides, causing me to gasp for breath. It's much stronger than I thought.

"Th-thank you," I stutter. Despite the taste, I wish there was more in the cup. I'd do anything to dull the anxiety right now.

"I didn't realize humans imbibed in such quantities," he laughs under his breath.

I can only imagine his face if he saw how well I could shotgun a beer—almost as much as I want his reaction with what I say next.

"This is barbaric. I want you to know that. I'm only complying because I have no other option. If he dies?—"

"How could he? He's got something none of the other hopefuls in his division have." He raises a hand to silence me. I wonder if that's rude in their culture.

"What does he have? Did you give him something, a weapon to gain the upper hand?" My heart swells. Could the chancellor want Kitaico to win—could he be rooting for us in secret?

"No, he has you, a mate."

My stomach hits the ground. I want to scream.

What if I'm not enough to get him through this? What then?

But my screaming and tears haven't gotten me anywhere yet, have they?

So instead, I face forward and plan all the ways I'll take revenge if the worst happens. And what a view I'll have. The dichotomy of high and low tech on the planet continues to astound me.

Despite feeling like a fantasy concubine, draped in gems and golden chains, the viewing window onto the arena looks like something out of the movie Minority Report.

Translucent screens float and shuffle along the convex and bulging window. They run what I assume are stats of the hopefuls. Some of the smaller screens are zoomed in on a set of stone doors. The arena seems to be built of the same lava rock that Kitaico's cave was.

Given the large windows, I assumed it would be an underwater battleground…but it's not. There are puddles of bubbling water, like the hot springs Kitaico took me to.

The arena is smaller than I expected. I don't know why I thought it would be like The Hunger Games, where they had a basically unlimited expanse of space, but it's much more like a Roman gladiator pit. There are a few large plants and piles of rocks and debris scattered throughout.

To the farthest side opposite our large window, the crater opens into the ocean, waves lapping at the black sand. The open water spreads out as far as my eyes can see beyond that.

Beneath us are rows and rows of bubbled windows.

And here we sit at the top, in box seats to the bloodbath. My stomach twists, not wanting to bear the gruesome ritual these people hold dear.

Once I let the grisly thought leave my mind, I realize something else about the space. The entire arena appears to be in a long-dead volcanic crater. The Andjin have carved out their homes in this rocky mountain, running tunnels and rooms like ants in a hill.

Yiskku comes back and takes a seat in the chair next to me, sandwiching me between her and the chancellor.

Some dissonant instrument sounds as she once again grabs my hand.

"Are you ready?" she whispers, eyes glued to the screens with the doors.

"No."

Despite my protest, my attention is drawn to the screens as the heavy double doors swing wide.

Four males, all so different, stand tall. The screen lights up with Kitaico's face, and he winces as a bright pink light washes over him.

Just as if it's his cue, the chancellor rises from his seat and confidently approaches the floating screens. Grabbing a small circular disk, he places it over the column of his throat.

"May the hopefuls bring honor to their families. We thank them for their sacrifice." His voice booms through the hidden speakers in the room. "May the best male overcome his opponents. At the signal, you have five minutes to take your starting positions."

Kitaico's face, visible through the screen, displays complete resolve. But so do the faces of his companions.

One of them, right beside Kitaico, stands out because of his immense size. His biceps are unbelievably huge, larger than my entire waist. There's a cruelty to his face as he smiles for the cameras. It's so incredibly unnerving that I look away. I can feel his gaze burning holes at me through the holo screens.

"That's Aekaz," Yiskku whispers in my ear. "His muscles draw the blood away from his brain, do not worry."

For as much as I want to laugh, I can't. Stupid or not, he is impressively terrifying.

A single note comes through the loudspeakers again, and my heart is filled with dread as the arena goes black and all the lights are shut off. A measured beeping, I assume to count down the time, picks up its pace.

When the tone sounds so fast that it becomes constant, the lights return and the arena is empty, save for the brute of an Andjin standing in exactly the same place as before.

For a moment I assume the worst, that he's somehow already killed everyone, until Yiskku whispers, "They're hiding in plain sight," and points to a few of the outcroppings of rocks and brush that dot the arena.

I see nothing until Aekaz rushes the rocky pile to his left. When he grabs the smallest of the hopeful's neck, the little one's skin shifts back to his normal green color. He thrashes in his grip, his longer head tentacles reaching back up for Aekaz's throat.

When the tip of one appendage skirts by Aekaz's lips, he opens his mouth and bites down. His fangs sink into the muscular tube of flesh.

The sound of his screams reverberates in my ears as I witness the slow decay of the limb, the venom spreading like an ominous darkness. His anguished cries make it seem almost compassionate when Aekaz snaps his neck. The green body drops to the black ground, his head lifelessly bouncing off the pile of rocks as he does.

I knew the Andjin venom was deadly…but I didn't realize it was that incredibly gruesome.

Aekaz licks his fang as he steps over the fallen hopeful's corpse, pulling his shoulders back as he searches for his next target.

He walks slowly and deliberately through the battleground. His nostrils flare as he stalks, stopping at any place that appears it might make a good hiding spot.

I lean into Yiskku and ask, "Why is it taking so long? He seems to have found the first male easily."

She pulls her lips back over her petite fangs, her face incredulous.

"His camouflage was terrible. Could you really not see him?"

"Nope, guess my human eyeballs just suck," I pout.

"Kitaico and Roinsi are much better in the art of evasion than poor Guion was," she says sadly.

"Why didn't Aekaz hide?"

"It's the way of things, the hopeful deemed the strongest hunts the others. It is a point of pride among our males to win at a disadvantage."

"I'm over male pride." I slump further into my seat.

I wish I was strong enough to look away from the screens, but I can't. As Aekaz throws boulders bigger than a midsize sedan around the arena, I'm transfixed.

Where are you, Kitaico?

Unfortunately, even I can spot him when the burned tip of his foretentacle, the one I shot off, comes into the camera's frame.

The portion of skin near the most damaged bit pulses yellow, as if it can't change like the rest of his hide. The burn mark stays the color he normally is.

"You fool." Aekaz's voice is broadcast through the arena as he grabs Kitaico's damaged appendage.

But Kitaico doesn't thrash like his first victim. Instead, he swipes his foot around, kicking out the other hopeful's legs.

As Aekaz drops to the dirt, Kitaico scrambles up the nearby rock, jockeying for a better position. But the brute jumps back up to his feet, looking up at my mate and laughing with his whole body.

"Having the higher ground will do nothing to stop me," he says before rushing Kitaico like hell on wheels, scrambling up the side of the rocks.

Despite Kitaico's defensive stance, when Aekaz's hand grips his arm, he can do little but try to stay as far back as his reach allows.

"I'll be sure that your mate is well taken care of," he tells my alien, his vicious voice dripping from the speakers.

The combination of the glint in his eye, his grip on Kitaico's arm, and seeing what he did to the first male has my vision tunnelling.

I think I scream when Aekaz spins my mate around, pushing his chest into the pile of rocks as he pins him down, using his knee to hold Kitaico's arm tightly against his back.

I can almost make out the feeling of the many hands that must be supporting me, but through the blur of tears, I cannot bring myself to avert my gaze. My body feels like it's operating on its own, separate from my mind.

Kitaico's shoulder muscles twist and his jaw clamps as he tries to get out from under the giant Andjin's grip.

Aekaz turns his eyes skyward, ignoring the struggling male beneath him. He doesn't even break a sweat keeping his hold. Cockily, he looks directly into the camera before leaning down and whispering into my mate's ear.

"You've met your fate, and his name is Ae?—"