Forbidden Law (An Alien Love #1)

Chapter Twenty Eight

She didn't speak after that.

We wound our way through the tunnel, no light to lead the way. My eyes took in darker shapes that meant a step or wall, but I couldn't fathom that I was actually seeing that. Somewhere off to the left was the sound of running water, droplets hitting its' surface every so often from the ceiling. My brain cataloged these things like a new obsession. I couldn't quite focus on any one thing as I drew in calming breaths to focus. My limbs felt fluid and sure, but that was a contrast to what went on inside.

And then, up ahead, came soft light. It grew brighter and brighter, just as the clanging of metal came in sharp, quick succession. I thought of swords and shields from renaissance themed shows and movies, but that couldn't be right. We were lurched to the right as the ship rattled around us. Someone gasped.

"Everyone okay?" I asked, feeling for the wall. My other hand flew to the dagger, where it sat twisted into the waistband of my underwear.

"I think so," came the Nigerian woman's voice. With renewed urgency, we hurried forward. The lit doorway was only a few feet away when a flash of movement passed ahead, flicking in a blur of blue and orange. I almost paused. But a hand gently moved me along in a jolting contact of skin. Worry and deep sadness sucker punched my stomach. It was Lirah. When her hand left my skin, I was relieved. Those emotions were a cavernous pit of black that swirled in the chest; if we got out of this, I would try my best to help her, because no one should live with that.

Shaking my head clear, we broke through the threshold into chaos.

It was a battlefield, and it was raging in the hazy atmosphere of an enormous open meeting hall. Or that was what I guessed it was, but the Sharve didn't strike me as the...civilized type to hold such events. Blurred, bright figures fought the muddy shapes of the Sharve. The bright spots of color were disorienting as they suddenly tracked random paths to help another, or popped up, still and watching, ten feet away. They were the Morfilian, most wrapped in black sheaths of robe. But some were wild and exotic, with colorful mismatching pieces only meant to cover parts, but allow total freedom of movement.

It was breathtaking. Never in my life had I ever expected to see such a sight. My eyes followed the trajectory of one Morfilian, a man with pale hair and light blue skin who was aimed at a large Sharve that hunched towards a woman. She was cornered, weaponless, but had a determined tilt to her chin and an eery violet glow coming from her slanted eyes. She crouched, ready to pounce, but the Morfilian man gutted the Sharve an instant before. The long shimmering length of clear-silver metal protruded from where it's ribs would be. The resulting spray of brown-red splattered the ground at the woman's feet. He threw a small shard of metal to her and disappeared. A dagger. Her face twisted in revulsion at the sight of the dead body.

"We need to go!" Lirah said in alarm. "We have too many humans. And most of us are too weak still."

I nodded, glancing around for any other exits. The walls were too smooth, no windows or doors to speak of other than the one we had spilled from. Then my eye caught on something that crawled up the far wall: a ladder. I followed it up to the domed ceiling, where a hole cut a jagged clear hatch to...a room? I squinted. An escape pod, my mind whispered to me. I was sure of it. I pointed, and Lirah followed my gaze.

She nodded once and beckoned to the red-eyed man, who had already seen and still gripped the boy's hand. He said, "We need to get everyone up there. The formation needs to protect the humans and retain a strong line..."

I got distracted from their planning, my attention grabbed by the hulking onslaught of a Sharve. It towered over a Morfilian man in black, his body still and leaking dark blue liquid. Blood. The Sharve got up from its hunched slouch, a mangled hand dipping in the fresh liquid and sucking it off. Again, I imagined a glowing sand of essence flowing from the owner to the Sharve's black hole of a mouth. The Sharve's head waved from side to side, jutting forehead creating its own path as it assessed more prey. It caught on our group, sensing my attention.