Chapter 17: Under Cover of Darkness

  Beside me, Vrazak tenses almost imperceptibly. His eyes meet mine in the darkness, a clear warning passing between us. This is no routine summon.

  "Why Captain want to see worker?" I ask, feigning drowsiness and confusion.

  "Not your place to question," Grakk snaps, his whip twitching in his hand. "Come now or be dragged."

  I rise slowly, buying time to assess my options. Fighting here brings too many variables and just running is impossible as well with Grakk blocking the only exit.

  "Yes, overseer," I mumble, shuffling toward the door with exaggerated submission.

  As I pass Vrazak, he shifts slightly, his tail brushing against my ankle. The touch is deliberate, a signal, though of what, I'm not certain.

  Outside, the night air carries the heavy scent of the marsh. The larger blue moon now hangs low, while its smaller amber companion sits high above, casting an eerie bronze tint across the night

  Grakk leads me away from our hut, but not toward the central tower as I expected. Instead, we head down a narrow walkway that borders the water's edge, away from the main pathways where guards patrol.

  "Where is Captain Glubak?" I ask, growing increasingly suspicious.

  "Silence," Grakk replies curtly. "Just keep moving."

  We're approaching a storage area, a cluster of smaller structures used to house tools and supplies. The area is deserted at this hour and the shadows between buildings are deep and impenetrable.

  My instincts scream a warning. This does not seem like the path to any official meeting. Grakk is leading me somewhere clearly isolated from any potential observers.

  Ahead, a group of Frogman soldiers march in formation, most likely responding to some command. Their appearance is unexpected, and Grakk hesitates, unwilling to cross their path.

  "This way," he growls, pulling me roughly toward a narrow alley between storage buildings. "We wait for guards to pass."

  The moment we're hidden in the shadows, his demeanor changes. Gone is the officious overseer, replaced by something more predatory. He slams me against the wall, his claws pressing into my throat.

  "Enough with games, worker!" he spat, his face inches from mine. "You're not from the eastern hatcheries, I saw you recognize the hunter's prize. Now, you will tell Grakk everything, or Grakk takes you to the Captain in pieces."

  I struggle to breathe against the pressure on my windpipe. "Don't understand, overseer. Just worker…"

  His grip tightens, cutting off my protest. "Lies! Always knew something wrong about you. Strange smell, always looking around." His eyes narrow to slits. "And Shokar…" he spits the name, "that weakling never brought workers before. Always groveling to Lord Vex'mor like scared hatchling. Then suddenly brings you?"

  The pieces fall into place. This isn't just about my reaction to Magba's pouch. Grakk has been suspicious since my arrival, and now he thinks he's confirmed those suspicions. This isn't about duty or loyalty to the Frogmen. It's about opportunity.

  "Lord Vex'mor rewards greatly for bringing spies," he continues, relaxing his grip just enough for me to breathe. "But Lord away. Captain Glubak rewards me instead."

  So, with the Red Frog away, Grakk saw an opportunity for advancement by delivering a prize to Glubak.

  "Not spy," I gasp. "Just worker. Please, overse…"

  "Silence!" he snarls, pressing harder again. "The more you lie, fewer pieces left for Captain."

  The alley is narrow, confining, but it also means no one can approach without us noticing. No help is coming… but also no witnesses.

  I feel the familiar heat building in my veins, the primal rage that made me do unspeakable things, but also saved me before. My vision narrows, muscles coil, and something ancient and feral takes control.

  As Grakk leans closer to continue his threats, I know the delicate balance of survival has tipped toward action. The time for hiding has ended. One way or another, this night will change everything and I've played the part of prey for long enough.

  _____________________________________________________________________________________

  "Last chance, worker," he growls, his fetid breath hot against my face. "Tell Grakk who you really are."

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  In the immediate grip of danger, my senses become acutely focused. His eyes, fixed on me as his intended prey, gleam with anticipation. His hold intensifies, completely cutting off my breath.

  My body moves before conscious thought can form. My claws lash out with incredible speed, raking across Grakk's face with enough force to leave deep furrows in his pale scales. He staggers back, more surprised than injured, blood welling from the parallel gashes.

  "You dare!" he snarls, recovering quickly. He attempts to create distance to use his whip, but I'm already moving. I wrap the lash around my forearm and yank hard, pulling him off balance, then drive my knee into his midsection.

  The impact forces a grunt from him, but he doesn't fall. Instead, he counters with a vicious swipe that catches my shoulder, tearing scales and flesh. Pain flares, sharp and immediate, but the adrenaline coursing through me dulls its edge.

  We circle each other in the narrow alley, both breathing heavily. He's larger and stronger, a full Lizardman to my Minor Lizardman form, but I'm quicker and more desperate.

  "Worker has fight," Grakk grins, blood from his facial wounds staining his teeth. "Good. Captain won't mind if lizard is a little bit broken."

  "You will not be seeing any toad captain," I respond, speaking clearly now, abandoning the submissive worker act entirely.

  Grakk's eyes widen slightly at my changed speech. "So spy admits truth," he says with satisfaction. "Doesn't matter. No escape from my claws."

  I dodge left as he lunges again, bringing my elbow down hard on the back of his neck. He stumbles forward, colliding with the alley wall, but recovers faster than I anticipated.

  His tail sweeps in a lightning-fast arc, catching my legs and sending me crashing to the ground. Before I can rise, his foot presses down on my chest, claws digging into flesh.

  "Last chance, spy," Grakk sneers, applying increasing pressure. "Tell me who you are."

  "No one," I gasp, feeling my ribs bend under the weight. "Just trying to survive."

  "You'll beg for death when Captain Glubak finishes with you."

  Despite the pain lancing through my chest, a strange calm settles over me. I've been here before, pinned down, one breath away from death. Each time, I've survived by refusing to yield. This pale-scaled traitor is no different from a crawler or that hungry Lizardling.

  With a desperate surge, I grab his ankle and twist violently. The unexpected move throws him off balance.

  I roll free. Scramble to my feet.

  My shoulder throbs where his claws tore through scale and flesh, but I'm upright. Breathing. Still alive.

  Assessing the situation, the fight has carried us even deeper into the alley. If I can incapacitate Grakk quickly, I might still escape notice.

  "You fight well for worker," Grakk pants, circling me warily. "Too well."

  I bare my teeth in what might be a smile. "Maybe because I didn't learn to fight beating tired and starving workers."

  The provocation clearly works as he charges again. Using his momentum I slam him against the wall and manage to pin one of his arms. His free hand, however, rakes across my side, leaving long, seeping gashes. Yet, the pain barely registers through the adrenaline of combat.

  With a savage twist, I wrench his arm backward, bending it in a way no limb should bend. The sound it makes, a wet, splintering crack, echoes in the confined space. Grakk's scream cuts off as I clamp my hand over his snout, forcing his head back against the wall.

  "I am not your prize!" I growl, letting myself speak with full clarity for the first time.

  Fear flickers in his eyes, quickly replaced by rage. "What are you?"

  I don't answer. Instead, I slam his head against the wall. The impact is solid, but he remains conscious, his eyes burning with hatred and menace.

  I slam Grakk's head against the wall again, harder this time, but his body twists unexpectedly. His foot sweeps behind my legs, destabilizing me enough that his next move topples us both to the ground.

  We roll in the mud and filth of the alley, each fighting for dominance. Despite his broken arm, Grakk is formidable. His claws find my wounded side, digging in to aggravate the damage. I retaliate by driving my fist into his stomach and forcing the air from his lungs.

  The fight is brutal, primitive, nothing like the calculated combat training Magba subjected me to. This is survival in its rawest form, with tooth and claw, muscle and will, each seeking to overcome the other through sheer brutality.

  The gashes along my ribs burn with each breath, and I can feel warm blood soaking through my scales. My left arm moves slower now, the shoulder wound sapping my strength.

  As we struggle, locked in desperate combat, an extremely loud noise interrupts our savage struggle.

  The deep, resonant sound of a horn echoes across the village.

  We both freeze for an instant, recognition dawning simultaneously.

  "Raid," Grakk whispers, his eyes widening.

  The horn sounds again, longer this time, more urgent.

  From the north side of the village, shouts of alarm rise, followed by the distinctive croaking battle cries of Frogmen mobilizing. A guttural scream cuts through the night, very much not Frogman.

  "What…" he begins, but I don't let him finish.

  Grakk's momentary distraction gives me the opening I need. I twist hard, breaking his grip. My claws punch through his scales and sink into his throat with enough force to tear his windpipe.

  He gasps, choking, his hands clawing at his neck and his expression full of desperation and pain.

  Despite my desire to stay longer and witness the final moments of the traitorous bastard, the sound of hurried footsteps approaching forces me to leave.

  "Guess your captain will be too busy for me now," I say, rising to my feet.

  I leave Grakk dying in the mud, his pale scales now crimson with his own blood.

  As I emerge from the alley, the village has transformed into chaos. Frogmen soldiers rush toward the northern wall while other Frogs scatter, seeking shelter. The horn continues its mournful warning, now joined by the distant sounds of battle.

  The raid has begun. And with it, the chance at freedom.