Alien Protector: Sci-Fi Alien Invasion Paranormal Romance (2 page)

Draco did as he was told, crossing the room and gently placing the sheath next to the hilt on the shelf. “I wish you wouldn’t say that,” he said as he came back over to Plintos. “I’m not a champion. More like the errand boy.”

Plintos laughed and slung an arm over his shoulder. “But my favorite errand boy,” he teased, and the two of them headed down from the tower together.

An hour later, Draco was at least clean and wearing a fresh set of clothes as he sat at the long table in the King’s Hall and ate his fill. Around him, people chattered and laughed, enjoying having a reason to celebrate. It was hard to feel anything other than pleased to give them a reason when he saw how much the people liked things like this. Otherwise their lives were very quiet, which wasn’t a bad thing, but he knew that a little celebration never hurt anyone.

“So!” called Plintos from where he sat to Draco’s right. “Tell us of your journey.”

Instantly the table fell silent and the music that had been playing in the background fell to a hush. Part of it, Draco knew, it was because the king had spoken, but a much larger part was probably because they actually wanted to hear
him
speak.

There was even a cluster of children, right at the end of the table who were sitting up straighter and leaning in closely to hear better.

And Draco knew he wasn’t going to be able to beg off from this by saying he was too tired to talk, so he smiled and cleared his throat, pitching his voice loud enough that everyone in the hall would be able to hear it. “Well, your Majesty, it was a rather dull journey, when it comes down to it. Not a single monster to fight, you see, and there was nothing guarding the Artifact to keep me from trying to take it. I nearly fell asleep in the process.”

There was a ripple of amused laughter, and Draco’s smile settled into something more natural. This was his home, and these were his people. If they wanted a story, he would tell them one.

“But, the planet we were on was beautiful. It was in the Tithan quadrant, so it was all lush and green. Flowers and fruit trees as far as the eye could see. And it was
hot
. Their sun was so bright and so strong that even though it wasn’t all that close to the planet, it still kept things warm. Combined with all the water that the planet had, it was easy to see why we were so sticky all the time. Of course, the worst part was the giant bugs.”

One of the children gasped at that, and Draco laughed. “Now, when I say giant, I don’t mean like a few inches across. No, I mean there were flying bugs about the size of my hand.” He held up his hand for comparison and then continued on with the tale.

He talked about how they climbed on ruins, careful not to disturb anything. How there had been evidence of a battle fought there probably hundreds of years ago and no one left alive to talk about it. How they’d fanned out and scanned the ground with their technology to find the sheath, pulling up old rusted helmets and swords that looked like they belonged to a different age as they went.

It was late by the time the feast was winding down, and Draco could feel his exhaustion in his bones, but he sat patiently and waited while people bid him good night, leaving with a bow to the king before they headed off into the night to return to their homes.

When it was just them and the servants left, Plintos turned to him with a warm smile. “You’re good for the people,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Now go get some rest. I know you have to be exhausted.”

And with that dismissal, Draco went. Luckily, he had rooms in the palace that he could stay in whenever he was there, and he made his way to them, pausing every so often to thank the servants for their help as he always had since he was a little boy. Most of them had known him that long, too, so they had smiles and warm words for him.

Still, nothing was better than reaching his rooms and letting himself in to find that they had been aired out and cleaned since the last time he was there. The sheets on his bed were crisp and clean and cool, and he groaned as he sank down onto the bed and let himself go boneless.

It probably would have been smarter to undress first, but he didn’t care. He wiggled out of his clothes in a most undignified manner and then got under the covers, body molding to the firm mattress. It was a relief to sleep somewhere that wasn’t the stifling heat of the planet they had been exploring or the small, efficient cots on the shuttle. This bed was a reminder that he was home now and that he could stay there for a while without having to worry about running off again, and he smiled and let that thought ease him off to sleep.

Unfortunately for Draco, things did not go quite the way he’d been assuming they would, which, in retrospect, should have been something he’d have foreseen. Of course with the other two artifacts in his possession, Plintos’ fervor to have all of them had only increased. Draco barely made it two days before he was being summoned to the tower room again.

“Plintos,” Draco said as he strode into the room and glared at his friend. “You have to be kidding me. I’ve barely been back for two whole days.”

“But we’re so close, Draco,” Plintos said, eyes gleaming. “Don’t you want the satisfaction of saying that the set is complete?”

Draco frowned. “Yes,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully so as not to upset his friend and king. “But I would also like the satisfaction of being home for at least a couple of weeks before having to go back out there, scouring the galaxy for a blade. It could take ages.”

Something that looked very much like fear flashed into Plintos’ eyes just then, and Draco frowned harder, but when he looked closer it was just impatience, which figured. “I have confidence in you, Draco. And besides, I’ve already instructed your crew to begin preparations to set out again. You do have until the end of the week.”

He said it like it was some kind of boon, and Draco had to restrain himself from saying something he would probably regret. He drew in a deep breath and reminded himself that this was his best friend and the man he had grown up with. “Plintos,” he said softly. “Why is this so important to you?”

“It just is,” Plintos replied, not looking at him. “No one has had all of the Artifacts in over three hundred years. The possibilities are endless.”

Draco didn’t know about that, but then, no one had done as much research into the Cillidan Artifacts as Plintos had. For his part, Draco just went to find them and left the rest to Plintos, who cared more than anyone else about them.

Apparently he saw that Draco was less than thrilled to be in the position he was in because Plintos sighed and moved closer to him. “You are the only one I trust to bring it back, Draco,” he said. “I’d send someone else if I could. but you’re the only one who I know will find it and bring it back in one piece. Someone else might give into the temptation to sell it or keep it for themselves. It has to be you, and I would very much like it if it was soon.”

“I think you’re giving our people too little credit,” Draco said, but then sighed and nodded. “Alright. We’ll go back out. But it will be at the end of
next
week because the crew deserves time to be with their families for longer than a few days. Especially since we have no idea where to begin looking and might be gone for some time.”

Plintos pursed his lips but then nodded. “Very well, that’s fair. I’ll use the time to reread some of the material about when they were scattered and see if I can give you a better idea of where you’ll need to look.”

“That would be an enormous help,” Draco said. “Now let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“Out of this room. If I’m going back out into the deep darkness of space, I’d like to spend some time with my closest friend first. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

Plintos smiled at him and inclined his head. “Not too much at all.”

The next several days went by rather quicker than Draco would have liked, and soon enough he and the crew were climbing back aboard their shuttle to head back out. They had enough food and fuel for a month’s journey since Draco and Plintos had agreed that checking back in at home every few weeks would make more sense than just endlessly searching.

There was something anxious about Plintos when he bid them farewell, standing with the rest of the people who had turned out to see them off.

Draco waved and watched Plintos until he couldn’t see him anymore, leaning back in his seat with a sigh. “Do you think there’s something wrong with the king?” he asked out loud, glancing up at his crew as they rose higher in the air.

The ones who were close enough to hear him exchanged glances. “I’m not sure we can answer that,” said Phobo, the man in charge of maintaining their technology. “Sounds like treason to me.”

He laughed at that. “I promise I won’t tell him. It’s just. He’s seemed a little off to me lately, and I was wondering if anyone else had noticed.”

“You mean aside from the fact that he’s sending us back out when we just got back not too long ago?” piped up Gemmi, the lone female on the shuttle. “Because that struck me as strange. And annoying,” she added under her breath.

“He just. Wants to have all the Artifacts,” Draco said. “Really badly. I think it’s a king thing, and I don’t get it, but if I have the power to give it to him, then I will.”

And he meant that. It was obviously important to Plintos and Plintos was the most important person in his life. If that meant a few more months going from place to place, then he could handle that. Once this whole thing was over, then he could come and go as he pleased and wouldn’t have to worry about being sent out suddenly anymore.

A year later, Draco was really starting to understand the meaning of the phrase ‘wishful thinking’.

He’d been all over. Almost literally everywhere in their quadrant and in the immediate vicinity. He had combed ruins and wastes for the final artifact, finding several other items in the process, but seeing nothing that fit the description of what he was supposed to be looking for.

Their failure was starting to wear on everyone, but no one so much as Plintos. Every time Draco came back empty handed it was just one more blow for his friend. Gone were the laughing smiles and the bright glow to his eyes, replaced by thin lips pressed into a hard line and a growing sense of hopelessness that Draco could feel but didn’t understand.

It was becoming a rift between them, which frustrated Draco to no end because there had never been anything like this between them before, and it wasn’t like he was doing this on purpose.

He was going out there and doing the best he could to find the last artifact, but with no idea where it was and, there was only so much he could do.

Draco believed that Plintos understood that on some level, but each time Draco came back with nothing their conversation was shorter. The servants told him that Plintos spent more time locked in his tower room than anywhere else, pouring over old books and trying to find something that he might have missed to give them a clue where to look.

For his part, Draco was getting tired of searching. For a year he practically live on his shuttle with the rest of the crew, and it wasn’t fair to keep taking them out again and again when they had families and lives that they would much rather be living.

Of course, he had no idea how to bring that up to Plintos when he was in one of his moods, and it wore on him, making him irritable and cross until he knew he had to say something.

They came back from exploring one of the remote planets just outside of their quadrant, loaded down with trinkets and things that they had found, but nothing even close to being the last artifact.

They were all tired and in need of sleep and real food, and Draco dismissed his crew and then made his way to the palace, steeling himself for what he knew wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

There was a marked difference from when he had come back with the sheath, and everyone knew there would be no celebrating that night. The market was as busy as ever when Draco passed through it, but people were keeping their eyes down and the chatter was at a minimum. As always, Canna stopped him to talk and passed him some food, this time in the form of chunks of warm, spiced meat on a skewer.

“What’s going on?” he asked her, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“The king’s in a foul mood,” she replied. “And no one’s seen him outside of the palace for days. People are starting to worry something’s wrong with him.”

Draco sighed. He had been worrying about that same thing himself. “I’ll go see what’s going on,” he said. “Thank you, Canna.”

She nodded and shooed him off, and Draco hurried the remaining distance, eating his food and wiping his hands before he presented himself before the guards. There were no jokes or grins for him today. Instead they ushered him inside of the palace which was surprisingly quiet.

Fearing the worst, Draco made his way to the tower.

He didn’t bother to knock, pushing open the door and stepping inside of the room. The window was closed and the shade drawn down over it, the room gloomy except for the light from globe in the center of the table Plintos was hunched over.

“You’re back,” the king said, not even glancing up. “I’m not even going to ask if you found anything.”

His tone was bitter, and Draco frowned. “I found many things,” he said, setting down the heavy bag of treasures. “Just not the thing you sent me to find.”