Captive Fire Read Free Page A

the lip.”
    Drakon hovered near the doorway, staring fixedly at
the pools. “Water like this in the midst of the Whispering Desert…” He trailed
off and lifted his hands. “I had no idea.” His chains rattled.
    Ryuu stared at the man’s bloody wrists, then shook his head. “You cannot go into the water with
those things on your body. Wait here.” He pivoted and strode back out to his
weapons rack. He’d need the Pax 11, his personal sidearm. The plasma beam would
cut through the chains. He paused by the communication console to order food.
When he returned to the bathing chamber, Drakon stood in the same place, still
looking at the water as if mesmerized.
    “Give me your hands,” Ryuu said.
    Drakon turned to him and blanched, stumbling back. His
gaze flicked to the weapon, to the floor, and finally settled on the blazing
crystal ceiling.
    Ryuu huffed impatiently. “I have no intention of
harming you.” He gestured with his sidearm. “This is merely to cut off your
bonds.”
    The slave licked his lips before he slowly brought his
arms up, wrists together. His green eyes glimmered like cold fire. “You could
cut off all my limbs and I could do nothing.” He tossed his head. The braid
he’d plaited in the flitter began to unravel.
    Anger rose in Ryuu. “I would never do that. I only
kill in battle,” he replied, edgy and frustrated. I can’t keep pretending I
mean him harm, but do I dare let him know my true feelings about slavery? About my father? How can I trust anyone?
    Drakon didn’t reply. He just stood there, arms out as
if in supplication.
    Ryuu sighed and came closer, carefully dialing the setting he wanted on his Pax 11. “Hold still.”
    Drakon stared right at him, silent.
    “I promise I won’t harm you,” Ryuu said. He thumbed
the safety from the sidearm and aimed. It took four short bursts of the plasma
beam to get the filthy metal off Drakon’s wrists. The smell of burned hair
clogged Ryuu’s throat and he coughed as he set aside the weapon.
    “Thank you,” Drakon said huskily.
    Ryuu looked down at the man’s arms. The metal had
rubbed the skin away, leaving blood and scars behind. “You can’t go into the
water with those wounds.”
    Drakon shook his head. “It is nothing. I heal
quickly.” With a single movement, he snapped the frayed string holding his
loincloth to his hips and waded into the hot pool.
    Ryuu stared, not expecting the man to simply strip
like that. He shrugged. If he’d been denied food and bathing facilities, he’d
want to get clean as fast as possible, too. He took off his boots and armor,
grateful to be out of the hot dust. By the time he’d stripped down, Drakon was
washing himself with one of the cloths left near the pool for just that
purpose. Pink and brown lather slicked down his muscular arms. When he twisted,
trying to reach his back, Ryuu strode forward. “Let me,” he said, taking the
soapy cloth from Drakon’s fingers.
    “Thank you,” Drakon replied, not turning.
    Gently, Ryuu began to rub away months of accumulated
grime.
    “You don’t have to be so gentle,” Drakon said.
    Ryuu grimaced. “You have wounds all over you.”
    “I want to be clean,” Drakon murmured, almost too
quietly for Ryuu to hear him. “That is more important than a little pain.”
    Yes, I’d definitely want to be cleansed, too, he thought, shuddering at the thought of being
whipped against his will. Then he smiled grimly to himself. Am I not held
against my will here in the citadel? Trapped by my father’s insanity? I am no more free of torture than this man in front of me. He
cleared his throat. “You will be clean soon,” he said, dipping the cloth into
the water again. “Duck down. Your hair needs to be washed as well.”
    Drakon nodded and submerged himself. When he came back
up out of the water, he’d turned to face his captor. Ryuu nearly dropped the
soap he held as he stared. Drakon’s skin glowed in the reflected sunlight.
Water and blood sluiced