Warrior Prince Page 10

  Shoving the scope back into its pouch, he grinned at Nira. “Fortune is with us. This device must act as a mass transporter.”

  “Through a dimensional rift?” Her eyes shone in the enclosed space.

  He sniffed the air. “I smell cors particles, but I detect them any time a Trollek shifts vectors, even from place to place on this world. It does not always mean they are jumping between dimensions.”

  “So their village could be somewhere on Earth?”

  “That is correct. We should go through before someone else comes along.”

  She stood her ground, looking thoughtful. “Could this be one of the rifts where they enter our world? Large numbers of them could arrive here through this portal.”

  It couldn’t possibly be this easy to locate one of their gateways. “We can study the markings on the control panel later. Once we destroy the jamming device, our sensors will be able to detect all the rifts.”

  She tilted her head, regarding him. “Tell me something. Why would these beasts call this tourist attraction Drift World if they knew you would zero in on the name?”

  “Because they wanted us to find it.”

  “Why? To lure you into a trap?”

  “Perhaps. Or else to distract us from the real point of entry. There remains one other possible explanation.” He paused. “They named it thus to flaunt their superiority. We have defeated them in the past, but they have grown stronger. This could be their way of challenging us.”

  “Oh. Like, they’re thumbing their nose at you.”

  “Their nose? They cannot sniff our presence like we can theirs. I do not understand this reference.”

  “Never mind. It’s another slang expression.”

  “Come, we waste time.” When she still didn’t budge, he snorted in exasperation. “Now what? If we tarry, we might miss our chance.”

  “W-What if we can’t get back?”

  He pressed his lips together. “We shall deal with that problem as it arises.”

  “Right. Worry about it later.” She gave a wan smile.

  “You can choose not to go. In that case, return to our safe house. I will radio Kaj to look after you.”

  “No, you need me to protect you. I’m going.”

  Her words spread a warm glow through him. “Very well. Then prepare to spatial shift.”

  They stepped onto the platform, and he pressed the keys on the control panel as he’d observed. His nerves tingled. His hair lifted.

  Then his vision blurred and all went black.

  Chapter Ten

  Nira blinked and opened her eyes to a forest glen with scrub brush and moss-draped trees. She stood on a platform similar to the one they’d just left at the theme park except this canopy was under the stars. Dusk spread its fingers overhead. Broad strokes of tangerine bled into navy.

  Taking a deep breath of air redolent with the earthy aroma of wood and humus, she attempted to get her bearings.

  Some sort of structures vaguely showed through a gap in the trees. Moonlight glinted off a lake in the distance.

  “Are we still on Earth, or did we shift to the Trollek world?” She stepped off the dais.

  Zohar, chin thrust forward, sniffed the air. His nose wrinkled with obvious distaste. “I am uncertain. I can take a reading on my PIP later, but we should not linger here.”

  “Your what?”

  “My personal data device or Portable Intel Platform. Come, let us find the village.” He gestured for her to follow him.

  She rubbed her temples. Her head throbbed from that incessant buzzing noise. Could she mute it? Scrunching her forehead, she pushed against the mental barrier but the effort only intensified her headache.

  “What’s wrong?” Zohar, on the path ahead, halted to glance back at her. His turquoise eyes gleamed in the fading light.

  She couldn’t keep her gaze from roaming away from his handsome face to his broad shoulders and then his trim hips. Her breath hitched as need spiraled through her. He looked magnificent with his regal bearing, muscled body, and stubbled jaw. His hair fell casually across his forehead, making her pulse pound. She liked his mussed look. It made him less stiff, more approachable. Not to mention sexy as hell.

  “Nothing, I’m fine.” She moistened her lips.

  Her feet took her to a dirt trail strewn with leaves, twigs, and roots. Humidity hung in the air, similar to a Florida summer night. Wait a minute. Was that a cabbage palm?

  “Zohar, do they have palm trees on the Trollek world?”

  “Theirs is a more temperate climate.” His gaze sharpened. “This looks like the terrain we just left.”

  “Exactly.” She spotted a sign and scurried forward. “I don’t believe it. We’re in Turkey Lake Park.”

  “You know this place?”

  “It’s in Orlando. How is that possible?”

  His mouth compressed. “We just did a short spatial jump. As for why no one else can see those buildings among the trees, the Trolleks must have screened it from human view.”

  “What does that mean?” An insect whined past her ear.

  “They’ve shifted their village to another phase. It’s here, but no one else can see it or hear anything. If someone walked over, he’d pass straight through that place as though it didn’t exist. You and I are out of phase as well. That portal did more than just a spatial shift. It put us into the displacement field aligned with the village.”

  Gesturing for her to follow, he resumed his pace.

  Nira didn’t understand but trailed after him anyway. Perspiration pricked her brow. The sun’s descent had done nothing to cool her skin. Night might arrive late on the wings of summer, but the air remained warm. Crickets chirped, adding to the clamor in her ears. Swatting a mosquito, she considered they had bigger creatures to confront than insects.

  She’d only been to this park a couple of times before but remembered walking trails and picnic tables. At the other end of the park would be a swimming pool, lake, and boathouse. Yet the profile had changed, as though a village from the Middle Ages had been plopped into modern-day times. Because that’s what she saw when they neared the buildings.

  A village square stood dead ahead, intersected by dirt roads lined with buildings. Structures made of logs with thatched roofs predominated. People bustled about, both humans and Trolleks. The humans hauled buckets and carried boxes and wielded construction tools. Everyone wore a blank expression.

  “Mind slaves,” Zohar muttered. He’d paused behind a thick tree trunk to survey the scene.

  “Looks like they’re being used as a labor force, but to what end? Why would the Trolleks set up a base here?”

  “That is what we must discover.” He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, if anything happens to me, head back to the portal. Punch 3-5-0-10 on the control panel.”

  She wouldn’t leave without him but didn’t say so aloud. “Do you think the jamming device is here? Or could this be a staging area for something else?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” His brow wrinkled as though he contemplated their approach.

  It could be a trap, Nira mused, wishing she’d worn long sleeves to guard against bugs as something stung her skin.

  Did the Trolleks truly name their tourist attraction to lure the Drift Lords there? Capturing the warriors would remove a serious threat to their plans. Or were they merely, as Zohar had suggested, demonstrating their arrogance?

  He removed his hand from her shoulder, and she felt bereft of his touch. How long would Zohar remain immune if captured? Biting her lower lip, she fought against a rising sense of dread.

  Algie said they’d snagged a Drift Lord once. The man hadn’t told them everything they’d wanted to know but he had talked. She supposed he’d been trained to resist interrogation, even when confounded. But still they’d gotten to him. She didn’t want to imagine what means they had used.

  Zohar needed her protection, and if necessary, her bargaining power. She was valuable to the Trolleks, who still
had knowledge important to her. What did her blood analysis show? Did it reveal anything about her parentage? Where was her landlady?

  Remembering her goals only frustrated her. She wouldn’t get anywhere by doing nothing.

  “Let’s go. Grace might be here. She’s too old to haul stuff, but she could be employed as a house servant.” Nira spoke in a hushed tone, aware their voices might carry on the night breeze. “Look at that large residence at the far end of the street. A Trollek must live there. I’ll bet he uses humans to wait on him.”

  Zohar’s appreciative gaze swept her face, making a thrill leap through her. She liked how he valued her opinions. Her glance dropped to his mouth, so perfect in its chiseled contours. His lips applied just the right pressure when he kissed her.

  She flushed and glanced away. Distractions could prove dangerous.

  Zohar indicated a group of laborers. “Note how they bring crates into that building? I would like to see what is inside.”

  “We could split up. You look for the jamming device. I’ll search for Grace. Meanwhile, keep your eyes open for people who have a mark on their arm like me. I don’t understand what it means. Do they test everyone, or just certain people? And why would a blood test or some other trait determine if you’re sent to the village?”

  “Maybe they want only healthy individuals as laborers.”

  “Possibly.” The beasts might be screening humans to obtain the most robust specimens for their heavy chores.

  Or they might be taking blood samples for another purpose. Having seen enough horror movies, she didn’t care to consider the alternatives.

  An anguished wail pierced the air. The cry repeated, escalating into a series of screams that made her blood curdle. God Almighty, what was happening?

  Zohar yanked her back several feet. “Fires of Agathorn, who is making that hideous noise?”

  “It sounds like someone’s in terrible pain.” She cringed in empathy. “Can these people not hear it?” The workers went about their business as though nothing was amiss.

  “They are confounded. Their minds are not their own.”

  The last scream got abruptly cut off. Activity in the village continued without disruption.

  “That was horrible.” Her feet, heavy as lead, remained rooted to the spot. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her stomach knotted. What was going on in this place?

  She remembered the brawny Trollek strapping her to a table in the employment office, and a shiver racked her spine. If either she or Zohar fell into the hands of those creatures, they could be the ones next howling like a banshee.

  “Are you sure you do not wish to remain by the portal?” Zohar’s eyes glittered as he regarded her solemnly from the shadow of the trees.

  “Not if I have a chance to rescue Grace.”

  She glanced at the town square, lit by lanterns on posts. The Trolleks may prefer natural resources for their construction materials, but they didn’t skimp on electricity. Too bad. She and Zohar could have used darkness as a cover.

  Torn between going with him and fleeing into the woods, Nira forced her feet to advance. She needed answers, and this place offered their best lead.

  “Wait. You need to cover your hair. It is too distinctive.” Zohar retrieved a bandana from a pocket and tossed it to her.

  “My, you come prepared.” She tied it on her head. “What else do you have secreted away?” His pants fit his hips as though molded to his contours. As she looked her fill, the fabric stretched tauter.

  “I will be happy to show you later,” Zohar promised in a husky voice. “Meanwhile, please refrain from paying me undue attention. The Trolleks will notice your interest.”

  Arrogant lout. “Look, there go some likely prospects. We can fall in with them.”

  A couple of men plodded along the edge of the road, carrying a bucket between them.

  “It is time.” Zohar sped off to join them.

  Nira scurried after him, casting her gaze about for an object to snag so she could blend in. She snatched an empty carton standing by the roadside. Her glance swept the label. Solar calculators. Isn’t that what Zohar said the Trolleks were collecting at the theme park?

  They passed a pair of other workers lugging a trunk-sized crate. Nira stuck the box in front of her face and assumed an impassive expression. Trollek sentries stood at various intersections directing traffic. Anyone who strayed got poked with some sort of stick that made them shriek.

  Bile rising in her throat, she lowered her head as she and Zohar accompanied the two guys into a timbered structure. Inside, stacks of crates and cartons were piled high. An interior door led to another room. She deposited her box just as a sentry stuck his head inside.

  “Woman, come here.”

  Me? She glanced side to side, but she appeared to be the only female in the vicinity. Hoping Zohar wouldn’t betray them, she bowed her head and obeyed.

  “The Grand Marshal tires of his selection. Your species is too frail for his taste. Perhaps you can amuse him. Follow me.”

  Amuse him…how? Alarm flared along her nerves, making her muscles tense. She didn’t dare refuse, or punishment would be swift. Zohar still had a chance to finish his mission if she complied. After shooting him a warning glance, she shuffled along in the Trollek’s wake.

  ****

  Zohar watched Nira follow the sentry from the building.

  Gods, how could he let her go? Who was this Grand Marshal, and what did he want with her? What would happen if they discovered her identity?

  His fists clenched until he realized the other fellows were stealing glances his way. It wouldn’t do to show emotion or he’d be taken next, and then he’d have no chance to save her.

  He made a show of straightening a couple of crates then ambled outside. He saw her slender figure retreating down the street behind the burly guard. Striding forward, he stumbled when somebody whacked him on the head.

  “You there.” A Trollek, with jowls that could sweep the floor and a shock stick in hand, blocked his view. “Where do you think you’re going? Get back to work.”

  Without argument, Zohar dodged back into the stockroom. Anxiety pitted his stomach. How would he reach Nira now?

  Stacking a series of crates kept him occupied while he cursed his luck. As time passed, he’d lose his chance to pursue her, but then he rallied. Until the route was clear, he could at least investigate this building. Nira was resourceful. Surely she could hold her own until he found her.

  He waited until the other slaves had completed their tasks and filed out before ducking into the next room. Enough lamplight streamed through the window for him to see without turning on the lights.

  Dozens of mirrors, in various assortments of frames, leaned against each other. One end of the room held a worktable where it looked as though the mirrors were pried from their frames. Broken pieces of wood splintered the sawdust-strewn floor. Strange. What did the Trolleks want with mirrors?

  Returning to the anteroom, he peered at one of the crates. It had been shipped to an address in Windermere before arriving here via the portal. That location could be useful. Pulling out his PIP, he scanned the label.

  So the Trolleks were shipping solar calculators to Drift World and mirrors elsewhere before bringing both items here. Were the calculators being disassembled also? What happened to the resultant parts?

  He had to discover their plans.

  Peering outside, he was glad to note street traffic had lessened. At least the Trolleks allowed their slaves to rest. If only he could snap one of these people out of their spell long enough to get some answers, he’d be a step ahead.

  Nira had better luck at it. That pretend doctor had listened to her earlier as though she were his kabak. The man had done exactly as she ordered. How was that possible?

  An unhappy thought leaked into his brain.

  Could she be part of an elaborate ruse to derail his team?

  He thrust the notion aside as soon as it entered his mind. How dare he doubt
her loyalty? Trolleks had attacked her house, abducted her landlady, and nearly killed her. She’d risked her life to distract Algie while he surveyed the theme park.

  Ashamed of himself, Zohar blamed it on his father’s influence. That betrayal had cut so deeply, it left him with an ever-festering wound that refused to heal.

  Aiming to find her and absolve his guilt, he slipped around the corner of the building and headed down an alley, passing by several residences inhabited by Trolleks being served dinner by their slaves.

  So this was merely a meal break. He wondered if work resumed through the night, or if the people were done until sunrise. Whoever dropped with fatigue could always be replaced. Was this why these particular people were chosen, because of superior physical stamina?

  A large hand clamped on his neck, delaying any further speculation.

  “Hold, human.” The hand squeezed. “Tell me why you are out beyond curfew.”

  Zohar cast his gaze downward and slumped his shoulders.

  “I was told to bring order to the storeroom. I was just on my way to my quarters.”

  A painful jolt struck the side of his thigh, and his legs crumpled. He fell to his knees.

  “Proceed to your bunk. If I see you out again, I’ll send you to Tent Ten.”

  Having no idea what that meant but aware it represented a threat, Zohar struggled to his feet. His muscles quivered from the shock. “As you command,” he mumbled between spasms.

  Shuffling off in what he hoped was the right direction, he rounded a corner before breathing a sigh of relief.

  He’d only progressed a few feet more when he glanced down. A trail of rust discolored the packed dirt road.

  No, not rust.

  Dried blood.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nira preceded her escort into an imposing two-story residence belonging to the Grand Marshal. Instead of a thatched hut, this wood-frame building had a beamed ceiling along with painted walls, glazed windows, and polished plank floors. Electric sconces illuminated a series of comfortable rooms decorated with upholstered furniture.