Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“That’s a cynical take,” he says. “But not entirely inaccurate. Smart blood is good blood. Civilized blood is almost always tainted with compounds associated with technology. This world has provided us with the best feed we’ve had in many dozens of years. Emrys will be pleased.”
“I hope so,” I say. “My mate’s satisfaction is of the utmost importance.”
“Indeed.” Aristo smirks. He thinks I am an uppity little human animal. Fortunately, I am loaded with all sorts of civilized compounds that I now know he has no interest in ingesting. He’s not hungry right now. None of them are. That’s probably what saved me initially, the only reason I wasn’t torn to pieces before I could speak.
“Our king’s mate requires clothing! See to it!” Aristo makes the announcement to the assembled valkers, then turns back to me and offers me an elegant cold hand. “Come,” he says. “I will ensure you are comfortable.”
“Thank you. Very kind. Emrys has asked me to report my experiences to him, so I will be glad to have good ones to report.”
Aristo’s gray pallor goes just that little bit more pale as the implications of that sentence sink in. First he thought I was food. Then he thought me a silly distraction. Now he is considering the fact that I appear to have the ear of his king. I am playing a dangerous game here in the very heart of Emrys’ territory, though to be fair, this is probably the last place he would ever think to look for me. I am possibly as safe as I could be.
“I will endeavor to ensure you are well taken care of. We did receive word that the king’s mate this year was a human.”
I want to clarify the this year part of that sentence, but I don’t want to ask any questions that would cause a level of suspicion that might undermine my otherwise accepted cover.
I follow Aristo, knowing full well that this is what ancient humans would have called a ballsy move. I’m rather enjoying it. It’s just so very wrong, which of course makes it incredibly right.
It is a little off-putting walking through the blood and muck, but of course that is not the entirety of the planet. There will be places that do not fester with the entrails of innocents, I am sure. I try to lift my gaze above the slaughter. I notice that there are multiple volcanoes rising in the distance, ominous gray-black columns with red and orange lava running down the sides in a slow trickling eruption. The whole planet has a smell of copper and brimstone. The core of this world is trying to escape through the surface. This is a place of intense revelation and brutal elemental forces.
I am starting to sweat beneath my ragged foil attire. The atmosphere is akin to standing at the vent of a very large clothes dryer that has long ago finished drying and yet has not switched itself off, probably because of a dodgy sensor. If that seems to be too specific a simile, suffice to say, it’s hot and it is dry.
Aristo leads me to the encampment proper, which is much tidier and largely free of the signs of indiscriminate slaughter. The valkers leave their atrocities outside the perimeter of their living quarters. Valker construction tech is impressive. I suppose when you are somewhat nomadic due to your predatory nature you need to be able to set up places to live that are secure and maintain your aesthetic.
They have already constructed many dwellings, clearly made from materials mined from the planet and fabricated into ornate and intricate stonework by little machines that are effectively 3D printers but for building stuff.
In addition to houses, they have made several small temples, and I can see that they are hard at work on a big one which will presumably be where the homecoming will occur. There is not a surface of the stone that does not bear some kind of carving, either a hieroglyphic style series of events, or retellings of valker myths in their ancient written script, which I am only partially familiar with. They favor height and majesty, a great deal of pillars and sweeping stonework.
Valkers are all about style. Well, style and cruelty. It’s strange how often those two traits occur together. I’m here for the style part of things. I know that I am going to feel better once I am dressed well. Since this mad adventure began, I have been clad in increasingly odd and battered attire. It is starting to take a toll on my mental health, not to mention making me look bonkers to those I meet along the way.
“Would you like a bath?” Aristo makes the offer with a genteel hint at the state of me.
“I would. Thank you. I would also like something to eat.”