Chapter 5.2

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The courage Vatra had mustered was fading. She thought she would have been able to hold it together a little longer.

I've certainly faced a lot worse, she reminded herself. I've faced kings and armies. What's one god?

It was which god that sent her mind in a flurry. As she stomped down the alley behind the hangars, back straight and chin high, her stomach swung around in her belly like a boomerang. Vatra couldn't deny the effect Enyalius still had over her. No amount of sarcasm or quick wit could erase what he'd done.

The steady footfalls of other people behind her reassured her. She wasn't alone. Well, not really. Vatra peered over her shoulder, seeing the equally obscured faces of four other beings just as sharply tuned to where they were going.

All of them appeared menacing in their black masks and jumpsuits. Two were clearly non-human, with extra limbs and extreme proportions. One such figure, a lumbering creature with four arms, stood nearly two meters tall, and used its extra limbs for locomotion. At one time, the being was a Grethorian, from the planet Grethor; a swamp-like planet where his multiple limbs would have come in handy for moving about thick vines and vegetation.

Now, just like the other three beings around him, he was simply a remnant of what he once was. An old crewmate of the Agkistrodon that died long before Vatra even got her hands on the vessel. Spyro's ability to pull forth spirits was limited to those attached to something near him, and, thankfully, a few spirits had stuck around the Agkistrodon.

The spirits were quiet and never spoke. Though they could fight when needed, they were more like mindless drones with the single goal to protect Vatra. And, gratefully, Vatra accepted their presence. She knew even in all her stubbornness, she wouldn't have been able to face Enyalius alone.

Vatra quieted her wandering mind with a sharp inhale. She stopped in front of the hangar door labeled with a faint '13'.

"Hmm, isn't that an unlucky number?" she questioned, casting a look behind her as if any of the others would reply.

An expected silence was her answer.

"Boring crowd," Vatra muttered. She turned back to the door and waved a hand beside it, knowing if she waited any longer she wouldn't go through with meeting the people on the other side. If they had been patient enough to wait.

The door rushed open. A familiar painting looked down at her from the side of the vessel parked inside the hangar. Vatra frowned at the pinup girl, her expression seemingly mocking Vatra with her bright red lips parted into a small 'o' shape, and wide, blue eyes.

I hope they get blasted right on top of that image, Vatra thought.

Her gaze drifted around the hangar. It was empty save for the vessel. The faint electrical hums of the lights and inner workings of the room buzzed in her ears. Though, through the hum, she could faintly hear music from the ship.

Their boots thudded over the metal floor, tracing carefully over to the lowered boarding ramp. The music grew louder as Vatra approached. She craned her neck up into the vessel, a bright light piercing through the shielding of her mask. Her hand raised until her eyes adjusted.

The ship was empty. Or, at least, no one was near the boarding ramp.

"Hello?" Vatra called up into the vessel. She took a single step onto the ramp and leaned further in. "Excuse me!"

The other four behind her shuffled, grouping at the bottom of the ramp. They mimicked her behavior and tilted their heads to look into the ship.

"I don't think anyone's home," Vatra said, turning back to her companions. She pushed through the group and hopped back to the safety of the hangar floor.

From Ashes and Dust (Book One)Where stories live. Discover now