by Stella Cassy
“But if you are going to the slave market… I have a favor to ask.”
I had instantly regretted not bolting the door. “Which is?”
“I’m in need of a nanny… someone strong, competent and capable,” Carissa said. “Do you think you could find someone for me. Tarion will give you the credits.”
I glanced at Tarion, waiting for him to tell his woman to leave the commander’s chamber, but instead he gave her a smile that invited her in. She moved to his side and stroked the pale red scales that coursed up his arm.
“What happened to sending in one of your seconds, Tarion?” I asked.
Tarion gave me a smug smile that made me bristle.
“I have my own command now,” I growled.
“Easy now,” Lehar said, as somber and subdued as the dark maroon scales that peppered his arms. “Tarion likes to have his fun.”
“Ignore my husband, Ranel,” Carissa said, though she stroked his head affectionately as she spoke. “So… will you? We would be eternally grateful.”
The fleets were overrun with half-breed babies and not enough hands to keep them all in line. I knew there was a need and I didn’t mind so much; the whelps rounded cuteness made them easy to tolerate. What I did mind was Carissa’s penchant for giving orders when she had no authority to do so.
“Very well,” I sighed. “I’ll purchase a nanny when I’m in the market buying my own slaves.”
Which is how I’d ended up here, scanning the offerings for a slave that looked like it could hold its own against the growing brood of feral hatchlings running through the fleet.
I had already made my purchases. I had a new cook and two new maids to add to my ship. The payments had all been processed and I might have been on my way back to the fleet if it hadn’t been for Carissa’s damned nanny.
I had purposely chosen a smaller, quieter auction stage. There was a motley assortment of bidders and the stage was set with a few smaller cages. Many bidders tended to favor the larger auction stages, bursting with choice and dressed up with animated auctioneers who didn’t seem to take a breath. All the pomp only served to grate on my already short attention span. I wasn’t interested in being entertained. I wanted to conduct my business and get the fuck out of here.
“Commander,” Deveron said, as he walked up to me. “I have your new slaves loaded and ready to go.”
I gritted my teeth. “Unfortunately, I have one more purchase to make.”
Deveron frowned. “Uh… you need another slave?” he asked.
He was one of the more promising members of my crew. He was young, but he showed determination and skill. And most importantly, he was eager to prove himself. His dark eyes were punctured by tiny blue spots, which matched the teal hue of the scales that ran up and down his arms.
“I don’t,” I replied. “But apparently Carissa does.”
“Carissa,” Deveron repeated. “Oh… Commander Tarion’s wife.”
“That’s the one,” I nodded.
“She didn’t want to come down to the market herself?” Deveron wondered out loud.
“Apparently she was too busy,” I replied, trying not to sound too annoyed. “After all, I’m only the commander of a Hielsrane ship. I’m only moving from ship to ship trying to better the other captains of their command. Apparently those duties pale in comparison to Carissa’s.”
So much for masking my annoyance, I sighed inwardly and fixed my attention to the stage in front of me. The auctioneer was a gaunt Nortian who looked both tired and disinterested. He had only two more slaves to offer and then this stage would be closed. My height gave me a good vantage point and I scanned the other stages. The biggest one in the center of the market was well underway now. The crowd gathered around it was massive and I noticed that there was an overwhelming number of Pax that overran the area.
“Filthy maggots,” I muttered under my breath.
“Sir?” Deveron asked, glancing at me. “You said something?”
“Nothing,” I said gruffly. “Keep an eye out for a slave that might suit as a nanny. Someone… young and able bodied.”
“Did Carissa have a species preference?”
“She’ll take what I bring her,” I growled. “And she’ll be grateful.”
Deveron nodded and I could see that he was trying to suppress a smile as he moved closer to the stage to examine the last two slaves on offer. I was close to bidding for the last slave, a pale human female with a tangle of black hair that looked charred at the edges. I stopped myself at the last moment. Satisfying as it would have been to see the look on Carissa’s face, I knew that a human slave would be no match for those little hybrid pups. They may have been half human, but the half drakon in them made them feral little beasts.
“Should we move to another stage?” Deveron asked, appearing at my side again. “Several others are still open.”
I was about to reply when a loud crash caught my attention. Deveron and I looked in the direction of the commotion. It appeared to have come from the main market stage. Little dust clouds had been kicked into the air and I realized a row of cages had been pushed off the stage.
“Let’s try that one,” I said, acting on a whim. “At the very least, we’ll get some choice.”
Deveron and I abandoned the quiet auction stage that we had spent the last half an hour standing in front of and made for the main platform. As we got closer we heard the faint titter of conversation filter through the crowd. Apparently one of the slaves had caused the ruckus that had drawn Deveron and I to the main stage. Some seemed to think it was impudence on the part of the slave and others assumed it was an accident. I for one didn’t really care. All I wanted was a half decent nanny and then I could get back to the comfort of my ship.
I made my way through the crowd, as close as possible to the auction stage. The pungent stink of Pax clung to the air and I had to suppress the urge to gag. I hated having to buy off one of their auctions but there was no arguing that they were the best and most ambitious slavers in the galaxy.
Seven lots in and I saw a slave that looked the part. She was a graceful Nortian with sorrowful eyes and an impressive honey tinted mane that flowed over her long limbs. Nortians had the temperament and the physical prowess to be able to handle a Drakon hatchling or two. I nodded to Deveron who sighed with relief as he raised his hand to place a bid.
Thankfully we had landed in the sweet spot that every auction inevitably sailed through. It was midway through the bidding, which meant the crowd had thinned out, having made successful purchases or simply lost interest. The rest were more serious bidders who were waiting till the very end to make sure they got the best slaves.
Everyone was reluctant to bid high at this point because they were waiting for better slaves to be offered. After a short bidding war with a squirrelly little Pax, I managed to purchase the Nortian female for only two hundred and fifty credits. Satisfied and intensely relieved, I moved towards the left side of the stage to complete my purchase and procure the slave.
There was a throng of Pax sitting around a large table that looked much too big for their kind. I decided not to comment on it. The less said the better; there was no love lost between the Pax and the Drakons and the smallest misstep could end in an unnecessary fight. They watched Deveron and me wearily as we approached, their eyes lingering on the tough scales that covered our bodies and marked us as dragon shifters.
“We just won the bid for the Nortian slave,” Deveron spoke as he counted out the coin they were due and placed it on the table in front of the Pax. “Two hundred and credits.”
The lead Pax eyed the money carefully for a long moment. It was as though he was waiting for it to burst into flame. Despite the fact that his suspicion was warranted, I wasn’t worried. The fake coin I had brought with me was of a high enough quality that I was certain it would fool anyone. I had real coin with me, and I had even been willing to use it, but it was just… the Pax. The hairy little fuckers deserved to be cheated.
&
nbsp; “The female Nortian?” the lead Pax asked, giving me the once over.
“That’s the one,” I nodded. “Where are the papers? I want to get out of this dung pile.”
“You seem to be in a hurry, Drakon.”
“I have more important things to get to,” I replied, keeping my tone detached.
“Stealing is hard work,” the lead Pax snarled with a forced smile on his rodent’s face.
“You would know,” I retorted.
Deveron took a careful step forward. “Like I said, we want to be on our way. If you could prepare our slave… we don’t want any trouble.”
The lead Pax eyed him with interest and then turned back to me. He was trying very hard to hide his instinctive dislike, but he wasn’t doing a very convincing job.
“No, we don’t want any trouble either,” he agreed. “In fact… I will throw in a free gift with your purchase. Call it a gesture of… good will.”
I felt Deveron tense beside me instantly. “You’re offering me a gift?” I asked.
“Indeed, and it is a valuable gift at that,” the lead Pax nodded. “Cova, bring the dark-haired slave girl.”
There was a pause. “The human?” Cova clarified.
“That’s the one,” the lead Pax nodded.
I could see the smug satisfaction on his face, and I wondered what deformity the human had that he wanted to unload her on us. Curiosity was the only thing that kept me from turning down his ‘gift.’ A few moments later, Cova appeared pulling a long metal chain, the end of which was fastened onto the collar of a young human female.
She was slight in frame and build, her shoulders hunched downwards as though she wanted to disappear altogether. The rough spun brown cloth she wore bared one naked shoulder and left her arms and legs exposed. She was looking down, allowing her long dark hair to cover the bulk of her features, but I could still make out the unusual hazel-gold of her eyes and the prominent three-leaf clover emblazoned on her right cheek. So she was the cause of the cage collapse that had caught my attention earlier in the day.
“I am sure she will make a capable slave,” the lead Pax said in a wheedling tone that made me want to punch him in his pointed snout.
“I have no doubt she will,” I said, forcing some measure of cordiality into my tone.
I could see Deveron glancing at me from the corner of his eye, but I knew he would not dare question me in front of anyone else, let alone the Pax.
“Thank you,” I said. “For your generous… gift.”
The chain was passed into my hands unceremoniously and the Nortian slave was prepared for our departure. Once the papers were signed, Deveron and I made our way past the throng of Pax and out of the slaver’s market. We were on our way to the collection bay to retrieve our other purchases when Deveron glanced back over his shoulder at the human slave girl who was following behind us, trembling like a new sapling.
“She’s marked; she’s nothing more than a bad omen,” Deveron said urgently, his tone rife with indignation. “She was never meant to be a gift. She was only ever meant to insult.”
“I’m aware,” I nodded. “But the joke’s on them. I don’t believe in that superstitious folderol. The bottom line is I gave them false coin… and they gave me a free slave.”
3
Yvette
I couldn’t help but stare. I had never seen a Drakon like him before. His strides were strong and confident; his movements were jerky and alert. It felt like he would pounce at any moment. He was several feet taller than I was and his broad shoulders seemed to cast me in shadow.
He wore a dark leather tunic that mirrored armor, but his forearms and neck were exposed to reveal tough, burnished burgundy scales that covered his skin. I imagined those scales on the massive body of a dragon and my hair stood on end.
The scales snaked up his neck but ended around his jawline. They gave way to human features; a hawk like nose that was slightly bent at the tip, a square jaw that led up to caved in cheekbones and dark, ranging eyes that held the tiniest slit of light. Those eyes were deep and emotionless and when he glanced my way, it made me feel as though he could see inside me.
As terrifying as I found him, my curiosity was hard to temper. I kept glancing at the long viper’s tail that flicked at his legs and the impressive set of scaled wings that were folded inward against his back. For one insane moment, I actually imagined reaching out and touching those wings.
The Nortian slave he had purchased made sure to keep her distance from me, at least as far as our chains would allow. Apparently she was worried my bad luck was infectious.
The Pax had tried me pass me off as a gift but the fierce looking Drakon had to know that the truth, didn’t he? I had a mark on my cheek and the marketplace was buzzing with the news of the deaths that had been caused on the main stage. He had to know… and he had taken me anyway. I wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one.
I could hear him conferring with his friend, who had all the same characteristics without any of the underlying menace. They were talking in low voices that were underpinned by a series of growls. This was the first time I would be owned by Drakons. It was the first time I would be owned by anyone other than the Pax. A part of me couldn’t help but wonder if I would survive the experience. I trailed after them while they retrieved three other slaves from the collection center, two Ermits and a superior looking Vence.
The Ermits both stood at around five feet with long feather like hair that erupted from their heads and ended only at their feet like billowing robes. I couldn’t see any of their features other than large oval eyes that looked out into the world with a kind of frightened awe. The only thing that distinguished one from the other was the color of their downy fur. One Ermit had a coat of milky eggshell and the other’s was a soft, earthy brown.
Next to both of them, the Vence looked massive and significantly more dangerous. His legs, three on either side, protruded from his globule-like torso in a manner that was reminiscent of a spider.
We walked through the heart of the city to get to the outskirts. Given that Minapolis was predominantly a slaver’s planet, every species within the galaxy had contributed in some way to the architecture of the city.
We walked past a tall, vertical building with several doors and windows snaking around the oblong structure. At first glance, it almost resembled a tree and I recognized it as Vence architecture. They had no staircases; they simply climbed in and out of their buildings through the groove like windows in each tiered floor.
The tall immensity of the tree like building gave way to a series of tunnels. The Pax, in their more primitive days, had favored tunnels, much like the Ermits still did. But as the Pax Alliance had grown in power and ambition, they had refined their homes to set them apart from the Ermits, who they considered no better than a slave species.
The Ermit tunnels were crude burrows that wove through dirt and muck with little in the way of aesthetic beauty. As we passed by a collection of interweaving Ermit warrens, I noticed how careless the designs of their tunnels were in comparison to the Pax.
Almost as though to highlight the difference in their status, the Pax homes had been placed a few short feet away from the Ermit tunnels. They had evolved into large arched constructions made from fine teak and yellow moonstone. The entrances of their buildings reached as high as ten feet. I had been inside countless Pax homes as a slave and I knew they would be filled with silk cushions and soft carpets that were at least five to eight inches in thickness.
As we left behind the burrows and tunnels, we came to a series of large towers complete with hexagonal gazebo type roofs that were shingled in colored tile. The color scheme was bold, and parts of the outer facades were intricately carved or covered over with mosaic and painted glass. I had heard about Nortian architecture, but I had never seen it up close. The Pax spoke of it with disdain that was meant to hide their innate jealousy. The Nortian architecture, despite its obvious showiness, was definitely the most refined style
I had seen thus far.
The city was a kaleidoscope of cultures. My eyes darted around so fast that I started to feel lightheaded as we continued our long walk through the city’s heart. I saw the contributions of all these different species and it was both overwhelming and dazzling. There were Pax caves seamlessly floating into the body of Nortian towers. There were mud huts nestled against the simple practicality of Vence buildings. I could see the rough earthiness of Pueblos made by the Rymers of Ketak and the black stone constructions of the Cocheks of Narm.
Even the pathways resembled Minapolis’s confused identity. Cobbled paths gave way to stone, stone gave way to brick, and brick gave way to mud and dirt.
At first glance, Minapolis was a city of contradictions, an ugly mass of opposing cultures, species and lifestyles, but when you got past the ugly mish-mash, there was something to be said about the singularity of eclecticism.
As the city started to thin out, I noticed the buildings and towers give way to more primitive abodes. I recognized the mud huts from Gorbeck culture. They were an antediluvian species that valued tradition. Their homes were no better than mud huts, large circular spaces with no rooms, gambrel roofs and small circular windows. Gorbecks had no concept of privacy and that was reflected in their open door cabanas that I spied as we made our way to the bright greenery of the city’s outskirts.
The two Drakons led our incongruous group towards the open space that looked free of civilization. The trees were thin but robust and each one of them boasted a different variety of flowers. I had passed by them earlier this morning and looked at their understated beauty with indifference from behind the bars of my cage. Now I could appreciate them. The world always looked bigger and more vivid when you weren’t watching it from inside the prism of a box.
We arrived at a monstrous hovercraft that could have seated about twenty different creatures. It was deep obsidian and I could see my reflection in its shimmering surface. I looked gaunt, under-fed and completely broken. I remembered a time when people had saluted me with respect. My only solace was that none of them could see me now.