A Girl From Nowhere (The Firewall Trilogy #1) - James Maxwell Page 0,121

anything else. She focused on it and brought it to the forefront, shocking him into obeying.

Stop.

Taimin’s expression shifted to wonder as the club froze. The trull’s eyes widened. Seeing a brief window of opportunity, Taimin seized it. He straightened from his position on one knee to thrust the remnant of his weapon deep into the trull’s neck, withdrawing the shard a moment later.

The crowd gave a collective gasp.

Selena’s power was exhausted. The radiant sun was gone. She felt a jolt as her lifeline drew her back into her body. As her eyes refocused, she knew that the people in the crowd would assume Taimin had pretended to be weak in order to lull the trull into a false sense of confidence. The trull’s hesitation might be remarked on, but stranger things would have happened in the arena.

But when she blinked, she realized that Galen was gripping her arm. He was staring directly at her. Arren and Merin’s startled voices had finally reached him. Galen knew.

Down in the fighting pit, the last of Taimin’s opponents crashed to the ground and toppled over. For a moment Taimin looked confused. He dropped his broken sword. His head turned, and his gaze went to Selena.

Then he shook himself and ran over to the man who lay bleeding on the sand. Taimin crouched by his fallen companion’s side.

The crowd began to chant. It began as a rumble and then rose to fill the arena. It was one man’s name, shouted again and again.

“Tai-min!”

“Tai-min!”

The Protector scowled at Galen. “Let’s get out of here.”

Selena was hauled to her feet. The roar of the crowd was so loud that anything else Galen or the Protector said was lost.

“Tai-min!”

34

The crowd continued to cheer. Raised voices chanted Taimin’s name over and over as he carried Vance through the open portcullis.

Taimin ignored everything but the injured man in his arms. Grimacing, he concentrated on the groaning muscles in his back and shoulders. As he took step after laborious step, with Vance’s weight trying to bow his knees, he walked through the archway and down the sloped corridor until he came to the gate. He was surprised when the prison guards holding the gate looked at him with something approaching admiration.

The other prisoners were ready and waiting. Taimin had done the impossible. He had made it out alive. Two men helped Taimin to rest Vance on the closest bed. Others ran to fetch water and cloth. Vance groaned while they maneuvered his legs. The firehound’s horns had torn his vest and trousers below his waist and opened a messy wound. The gash steadily seeped blood.

Vance opened his eyes and smiled weakly. “If this is Earth, your looks haven’t improved, and the afterlife seems a lot like the arena.”

“Where do you keep your money?” Taimin asked. “Quickly.”

“Rathis has it.”

“Good. Now be quiet.” Taimin swiftly scanned the room. “Rathis!” He saw the old skalen hurrying forward with strips of torn cloth in his hand. He grabbed Rathis’s shoulder and pulled him forward to whisper into his ear. “I need Vance’s money.”

While Rathis disappeared, Taimin wadded up the rags and pressed the bunched cloth against the wound in Vance’s side. Vance’s eyes were closed and his face was pale, but at least he was breathing. Rathis hurried back with a small pouch.

“Here,” Taimin said to Rathis. “Hold this against the wound.”

Taking the pouch, Taimin then strode to the far end of the room and shook the barred gate that only opened when new prisoners came or food was provided. “Guards!”

A heavyset man approached. Taimin breathed a sigh of relief when he recognized the guard who had procured the wine.

“What is it?”

“Here.” Taimin shook the pouch so the guard could hear the jingle. “I need a needle and gut as well as the strongest cactus spirit you can find. Bandages too.”

“All right.” The guard held out his palm.

“Wait,” Taimin said, holding the pouch back. “You can get the things I need and keep whatever’s left, or you can betray me.” His voice was low and deadly. “Do not betray me.”

“Yes, yes,” the fat guard muttered. As Taimin handed the pouch over, the guard immediately upended it onto his palm and began to count the metal chips.

“Hurry!” Taimin growled.

Closing his fist over the metal bits, the guard walked away.

Taimin returned to Vance. Rathis still held the wad of bloody cloth and lifted it up to look underneath.

“How bad is it?” Taimin asked.

“How would I know?” Rathis frowned at the wound. “My body isn’t made the same way.”