Chapter 5

It was almost noon when the maid was allowed in her cell. Her throat was parched dry. The maid handed Arana a glass of water as she gulped down draining the glass.

“I...I’m sorry, my lady,” she stammered, her face chalk white. The king has taken the best gladiator from the Pit as his chevalier this morning,” she babbled on.

“What are you talking about?” Arana asked. Her head spun like a top. And she felt dizzy.

“The same warrior, my Lady. The handsome one with the odd silver-white hair,” she said.

No, that can’t be possible... Arathor couldn’t wouldn’t betray her.

“I think you have been hearing too many rumors.”

“No, my lady, I saw for myself. He wore the chevalier’s garb. And everyone’s talking about it in the kitchens,” the maid said.

Arana felt sick. She turned away from the maid and kept quiet as her stomach knotted. What was wrong with her? She felt as if she had been stabbed in the chest. Why would he betray her when she was only trying to help? And she had failed in helping him. Her brother won again, she thought bitterly as fresh tears sprang up.

Men, they were all the same... selfish, uncaring bastards. She had been a fool. What made her think she could trust a prisoner? Stupid, stupid woman... and she was going to let him escape.

Arana’s heart sank terribly and she went numb. They took her out to the center of the Death Pit and tied her arms up above her head on a golden beam. And she was almost suspended with her feet tied to the floor. She wore a V necked simple white sleeveless dress and her mother’s pendant at her neck, and her feet were left bare. The beam hung in a large golden cage. The Golden Death, as it was called.

The crowd hooted, “Witch, witch, burn her! Burn her!” And she wished she could drown out the noise. She saw her handmaids crying, which was more out of fear of what was happening to her than for her...

She wasn’t scared anymore but the tears just wouldn’t stop... and it was then when she saw him and felt a piercing stab of pain rip her heart.

Clad in the gray shirt and dark pants with a red cloak that was embellished with the Royal House’s insignia, Arathor stood alongside the king in the Royal Chevalier’s uniform. He still wore the collar, she noticed and wondered why that was so. She saw him stare at her, his expression giving nothing away.

But her time had come. She glanced at the shafts on the golden floor of the cage. Soon, the fire would incinerate her and nothing would be left... and for one wild moment, she wished he would turn into a dragon and save her from this hell.

How pathetic, she thought, disgusted by herself. It was pathetic that she clung onto life so bad that her heart wanted him to save her... he who had betrayed her.

Flames now licked the hem of the delicate skirting of her dress. She moved her feet away and saved her dress from catching fire. But she knew it won’t be long when the flames caught her flesh, and the searing pain would be unbearable...

He worked for the king now. And he probably set this whole thing upon the king’s orders. She shouldn’t have trusted him in the first place. How could he do this to her when she was only trying to help...

She started coughing again as sobs racked her body. His betrayal had shaken her.

The crowd already hated her... nobody would mourn her death as they thought she was an evil being cleansed. She wanted to laugh at the pitiful situation she had ended up in. What was her life anyway? Wouldn’t it be better if all the pain ended right there and then? That would be even more pathetic. Nobody cared whether she lived or died... not even him. She thought he was her friend and would help her if she set him free... but she had been a fool.

The flames were threatening to lash at her feet. Unable to breathe, a bout of coughing took over as dark hot smoke choked her lungs. And among the smoke and leaping flames, she caught a fleeting glimpse of him and thought she saw fear in those cold gray eyes, as he made his way toward the golden cage. What was he doing?

***

Oh, she must be hallucinating... tears staining her face, she closed her eyes tight and prayed to the gods fervently...

Please, please... take me away from here... somewhere safe, anywhere safe... but here...

And her thoughts wandered far away from there, anywhere but there. The chain at her neck with the dark green stone turned a bright green. Her head spun and she felt the ground slipping away. And then she didn’t hear any voices, nor did she see anything as darkness took her into oblivion at exactly the same time the flames enveloped the golden cage.

People gasped, and some screamed in fright as the witch who was almost in flames disappeared into thin air, leaving behind the empty golden cage.

***

Arathor clenched his fists when he saw the woman being executed was none other than his mate. Fear gnawed at him as he couldn’t shift to his full dragon form and save her. And the look in her eyes when she looked at him clawed at his heart. She was disappointed in him... disgusted by what he had done. And all he could see in those soft blue eyes was despair as clear as day. He was screaming inside. He wanted to run to her and take her in his arms, kiss her and protect her.

There was something horribly wrong with him as no woman had this effect on him before. He had been impervious to emotion, but Arana triggered feelings in him he had not felt in a long, long time...

The image of his mother dying flashed before his mind. She was covered in blood and in pain. She had saved him...

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his jaw clenched. First his mother, and now his mate... Fate could not be more cruel, as now when she had awakened feelings in him, feelings he thought died with his mother’s brutal murder.

Arathor left the King’s side and quietly made his way toward the golden cage. He reached the cage and tapped in commands at the control panel hidden at the foot of the cage. It controlled the incinerator. The king couldn’t see him as well as the guards as he was hidden from view by the large stone pillars that stood beside the cage. He tried to shut down the incinerator tapping in commands, but it was futile. The system wasn’t responding as he wasn’t authorized to access it.

He looked up then. She couldn’t see him from up there. The fire had almost reached her dress. His heart drummed madly in his chest as he punched the control panel hard. Nothing was working. She would die right in front of his eyes and he wouldn’t be able to do anything. Despair took over, and his jaw clenched. She was coughing and her eyes were shut as flames almost engulfed the cage now. And it happened. In the blink of an eye, she was gone. Vanished into thin air...

It had baffled him, and yet, he was somewhat relieved too, knowing that the Magi had great powers. Hers had not yet been awakened, but he had seen the stone at her neck glow a bright green right before she disappeared as the flames engulfed the cage. He knew then her magic had protected her.

***

Arana Blackwell woke up in a dim lit room. She lay on a flatbed with a single pillow under her head. She moved and tried sitting up. A wave of nausea hit her as a throbbing headache began to pound at her temples, and she collapsed back. Too weak to move again, she stared at the gray and white ceiling. Her mind still fuzzy, she wondered where she was. Another cell?

The door to her room silently slid open as a woman entered. She wore plain dark gray pants and shirt. Her dark green hair was tied neatly in a bun and her kind amber eyes were in striking contrast to her olive green skin.

“How are you feeling?” she asked gently.

“Weak, and I have this awful headache...” Arana replied, and her own voice seemed strange to her.

The woman came closer and placed a small device on her arm and applied the medicine. “This will help with a headache. You have been in shock. Your body needs rest,” she advised.

“Um... where am I? And how long have I been in here?” Arana asked her as her head cleared a bit.

It started with the voices in her head. And the then the deluge of memories flooded her mind... Images of fire, the golden cage, the crowd hooting, and that face... Arathor.

She closed her eyes as a chill crept up her spine at the memory.

“You are on Andromeda 13. And you have been in the sick bay for almost 24 hours now, since I got you in here. I found you unconscious on the floor of our lobby,” she said flatly. “I need a name, and you will have to fill out some details on a form, when you feel up to it.”

Andromeda 13... the space station. But how did she get here? The last moment she could remember, she was tied to the beam, about to be executed... and twenty-four hours meant Andromeda hours. She knew how long that was due to Lorcan would come here for his whoring expeditions. Twenty-four hours here meant three days on Tirron, so she must have been unconscious for three days. Taking a deep breath, she touched the stone pendant at her neck. It seemed a darker green now... Strange, she thought, not stranger than the phenomenon that baffled her. How did she end up here without a spaceship?

“I am Arana Blackwell from planet Tirron,” she began as the woman trapped in the info on the flat device she held. “And who are you?”

“Oh I’m Dr. Qizet, head of the Sick Bay here,” she said. “You’ll be fine in a few hours, and you can go back home then.”

“Um, Qizet, I know this is awkward, but please, can I work here as your assistant? I could help you with the patients that come in here...” she said anxiously. “I...I can’t go back home right now,”

“Why?” Are you a war refugee?” she asked as she slightly narrowed her eyes at her.

“No, no. It’s just that I don’t have a place to call home at the moment. I... I’ll rent out quarters here, but please, I need a job. Anything you want me to do as your assistant.” Arana pleaded with a look in those clear blue eyes that made Qizet wonder for a moment where she had seen her before... She looked so familiar. And she seemed desperate.

“Alright... I’ll give you the job when I know you are ready to leave the sick bay. But first, you will have to learn a few things to get you accustomed to our daily routine,” she said with a serious expression on her face. Then, she smiled.

Arana sighed relieved. “Thank you... thank you so much!” she smiled back.

***

“That fucking whore!” yelled Lorcan at his men. “I want her head!”

Arathor winced at his words as his jaw clenched. He was good at keeping his anger at bay after years of training and experience had taught him that it was foolish to react under such circumstances.

“You are all worthless worms. You couldn’t contain a mere whore.” Lorcan seethed with uncontrollable rage. “And you, old man. You know magic. Couldn’t you have stopped her?” He glared at the old spider who cringed at his words.

“My Lord, it was unexpected. I didn’t see it coming...” he squeaked.

“It was dark magic she used to escape the Cage, you useless old bastard,” he shouted as the old man’s already hunched back bent lower.

“Arathor!” he called. Arathor stood in the front row with his other men. “You are a dragon. Your kind knows magic,” he said, glaring at him with pure insanity in his eyes. “I want you to find her, kill her, and bring back her head to me. This will be your ticket to freedom,” he said in a sinister tone as he gestured toward his own neck indicating that the collar he wore would be taken off then.

Arathor’s spine tingled with a chill he had not known before. No, No, No... Please no... Not her...

“Yes, My lord,” he said, quietly, his face a mask. He couldn’t let him see the surge of emotion simmering beneath the surface...

“You have three months, not more than that. Find the bitch and bring her head to me! Oh, and you can take her before you kill the whore,” he said as he cackled with laughter. The rest of his men sniggered too while he took a swig of his wine.

And in that moment, Arathor wanted to pull out his Silver Shadow and slit his throat. This was Lorcan’s sister he was talking about. The man did not have a soul, he thought, disgusted, as he clenched his fists. But what choice did he have? This was the only way of getting off the planet. And it was also an excuse to find Arana. She was his woman, and he would find her and protect her... He knew she was his mate even though he had not claimed her.

Arathor simply bowed and took his leave. His cloak swirled behind him as he walked out from the throne room to the control room. There, he searched the universal database for Arana’s current location. The search took a few hours, but he finally spotted her on Andromeda 13. She was in the sick bay there.

At first, when Arana had disappeared, Arathor knew magic was at work here. But he could never have guessed she had far more powerful magic within her that needed to be awakened. His doubts were now confirmed with her location. The woman had unconsciously managed to teleport herself to the station. Only a few Magi with immense power could teleport such long distances.

Leaving the control room, he made his way back to his chambers and set about packing his bags. It had been three days since Arana had vanished, and his days on Tirron had become nothing but torture. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. And taking on this challenge was the only way to see her again. So, he planned to leave immediately and waste not another moment.

An hour later, he revved the engines of the spaceship he was assigned to take and checked all the controls. The craft hovered a few feet above the ground and flew out of the docking area, and up into the sky. On leaving New Earth’s atmosphere, Arathor set the ship’s course toward Andromeda 13 as it went into warp drive.