Deeks tapped the microphone stalk at his side. "Just say the word, Drex, and they're dead. Just say the word." He brought his mouth close to the metallic bulb and looked into her eyes.
****
Drexelica had survived for a long time in the roughest regions of Griven, stealing and cozening what she needed to survive, but, in truth, she had had little time to care for anybody or anything. Since her parents had died, five years before, she had lived on her nerves and her will to survive, living from hand to mouth; she had never had any time to spare for others.
Since her whirlwind rescue from the tender mercies of the Griven city guards, she had begun to regard Questor Grimm with something approaching adoration. He appeared so strong and confident, but she could feel the undercurrent of unease he felt with the world and, in particular, with women; she had decided that he needed a woman in his life, whether he knew it or not. More than that, she needed him.
For most of her short life, she had concerned herself only with the problems of day-to-day survival, but now she felt other emotions stirring within her.
For the first time since her parents had died, Drexelica had seen another human acting out of compassion for her. She knew Grimm could have left her in that cold guard-house without a second thought; by the laws of Griven, he had every right to do so. She knew she had lived more as a fearful, suspicious animal than a human being for those long years, but Grimm had opened her eyes to the prospect of a better life.
The young mage might be gruff at times, and distant, but Drex's natural empathy told her this was only due to his lack of familiarity with members of the opposite sex. She considered Grimm's older colleague, Xylox, a sour, crabbed man, and she saw little warmth, or even humanity, in his soul. Although she might not have felt too bothered to see the haughty, disdainful man hurt, but she regarded Grimm in a different light. She yearned to make him react to her, and she could not bear the thought of his untimely death. She no longer saw her relationship with the Questor as an obligation: she loved him with all her heart, and she would do anything she could for him.
****
"Please don't."
A faint, mumbled phrase tumbled from the girl's lips; a soft plea.
"Why is that?" Deeks taunted. "Perhaps poor little Drex doesn't want her darling Grimm hurt. Is that right?"
After a few, uncomfortable moments the girl nodded, all traces of defiance gone from her face and her manner. She looked young, defenceless and quite delectable, and Deeks wanted her to surrender to him. That would make his conquest all the more satisfying.
"Well then," the Technician said, his voice low and lascivious. "What can you do for me to make sure that nothing nasty happens to poor little Grimm?"
"You couldn't hurt him," she said, bluffing. "He'd blow you apart."
"Oh well, in that case you won't mind if I just say those few little words, will you?"
"Don't." Drex's voice emerged little louder than a soft breeze, and she trembled with evident emotion.
This made her appear all the more desirable to the lusty Tech. "We'll just have to see about that," he breathed. "Why don't you try to change my mind?"
Drex did nothing, and Deeks strode towards her, his brows lowered. "Well come on, then; I won't wait forever," he snapped. "Come on!"
At that moment, the ceiling collapsed in a hazy shower of metal, plastic and plaster. Deeks' heard a single word: 'Sh'k'krar'eka'.
His eyes opened wide as he made out the figure of Questor Grimm, standing within a pale fog of particles. It was the last thing he ever saw. Deeks' eyes bulged, and he pressed his hands to his chest, his face purpling. The Tech thrashed for a few moments, his darkening face twisted into a ghastly rictus, and he then fell to the floor like a toppled pencil.
Agony filled Deeks' world, and he found himself drifting towards a distant light. As the blazing circle grew larger, he felt his pain melting away in its fierce heat. Now there was only peace and contentment.
It's lovely, he thought, appreciating true beauty in the abstract sense for the first time in his life. His hatred for Terrence, for Armitage, for everyone who had ever slighted or belittled him faded with the light, and Deeks knew peace at last.
****
"It's over, Drexelica," Grimm said, as the girl rushed into his arms. He stood motionless, awkward and stiff as she hugged and kissed him, tears in her eyes.
"Thank you, Grimm, thank you," she sobbed. "I knew you wouldn't leave me. I knew it. You're stuck with me now, no matter what."
"I imagine so," the mage replied, with just a trace of emotion escaping into his voice, betrayed by an almost subliminal tremor. Drex caught it, but she chose not to embarrass the young mage further by acknowledging it.
As she disengaged herself from the young mage's unresponsive arms, she noticed his red, sweaty face.
"Is it just me, or is it getting stuffy in here?" he asked, perhaps seeking to cover his embarrassment over his enthusiastic reception, but Drex had to acknowledge the feeling of claustrophobia she had begun to feel was getting worse, rather than better. She realised how fast her breathing was, but she felt unable to control it.
"It's not just you," she replied. "It is muggy. Can you get us out of here, Grimm?"
"I am feeling short of breath, too," Thribble chirped, his head peering down from the ragged hole in the ceiling. "It must be because this room is closed off, and there is not much air up here. We need to get back into the main corridor, and back to Questor Xylox."
"That is a good idea," Grimm said, panting and wiping his perspiration-soaked forehead with a trembling hand. "Let's get back where we can breathe."
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Chapter 14: Death and Departure
Fighting for breath and soaked with sweat, Grimm dropped from the access panel to the floor of the corridor, stumbling as his feet impacted the ground. It seemed just as muggy and stifling here in the main passageway as it had in the laboratory. His silk robes were grimy, torn and saturated with perspiration, and he felt a sharp pain in his right ankle, presumably caused by his awkward landing.
Without stopping to consider the ruin of his fine apparel, or the sharp pains now shooting up his leg, the mage extended his arms above his head.
"Lower yourself down and drop to the floor, Drex," he called into the ceiling void. "Have no fear, I will catch you."
He had made a conscious effort to keep his speech formal, as he had promised Xylox he would do until the party had escaped the Technological hell-hole of Haven. Now the threat of being stripped of his Guild status had lessened, he vowed to do nothing more to jeopardise his position.
Without so much as glancing down, the girl slipped over the edge of the opening and dropped into his arms. It was as well that she weighed little, since even her slight impact sent sick, silver waves of anguish through his protesting limb. He felt his face growing even hotter as she clung onto him far longer than was necessary.
Her large, brown eyes seemed to become the whole universe to the thaumaturge, as they gazed into his. He forced himself to stand rigid and unresponsive until she released him.
"Don't you like me, or something, Grimm?" Drex asked, her head on one side, pouting. "You said you do like girls, so it must be me…"
Her carefully coiffed, dark hair tumbled over her shoulders in a silken cascade, somewhat dishevelled, but alluring nonetheless. Her blue dress might be grubby and torn, but it still clung to the curves of her body, causing vague, disturbed feelings within the mage, the like of which he had never felt before. Drexelica had been transformed from a scruffy street urchin into an image of feminine beauty, and Grimm cleared his throat, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to take the lovely girl into his arms and smother her with kisses, but he knew that this could never be; he had been warned that sensual dalliance with a female would lead to the weakening and eventual loss of his powers. How could he tell her this?