[LEGACY VERSION] The Emperor of Time (Book 1 - The Kaireyeh Chronicles)

Chapter 26.7 - Talina

It didn't take long to get the seed orium. Landon--or Luc, as he wished to be called--led her to another seedy district. A pocket of market stalls lined a wider stretch of corridor. Talina stood in the middle of the group and in her best engine-room bellow asked who had seed molecules, she would pay.

Four vendors jockeyed for her attention and her credits, while their toughs stood by and looked menacing. Beside her, Luc crossed his thick arms and glared at them all.

Only two vendors actually had the seed orium, and one with quality enough she would buy. She paid an exorbitant sum on the Armada's tab, giving her number for the Teven Spar's petty cash fund. Roche would cut her off soon enough, but she hadn't done so yet. The transaction was traceable, though.

Back inside the maintenance corridors, Luc clutched the small metal case with the seed molecules inside like it was a life raft.

Talina tried again to fit this hulking man with the few images she'd seen of the slim and compact Landon Kynaston. She would never have known Luc had been an aristocrat, let alone a royal. He used a blunt economy of motion, and was unconscious of space around him in a way only the well-muscled could be. His speech was articulate but his voice rough, and there was no trace of a Joppan accent.

He looked back and caught her scrutiny. He scowled, and hurried them through a brief maze and back out to a lift.

The lift opened into a wide, packed corridor. The comm echo of an auctioneer competed with the roar of talking, punctuated by shouts and whistles. The crowd in the corridor both moved toward and spilled from a large opening to the right, which led into the cavernous chamber of the slave market.

Talina's nostrils flared. The whole place smelled like too much humanity.

Luc's mouth was set, his eyes cold like iron.

"All right, where now?" she asked.

But Luc continued to stare into the opening of the market, not moving. People jostled around them.

"We don't have time to sift through all of that," she said. "Where are we going?"

Luc shuddered, and his eyes came back into focus. "Slave pits," he said. The muscles in his jaw visibly clenched.

Talina grabbed his sleeve. Mostly because she didn't want to lose him in the crowd, but also because she wanted to remind him he wasn't the only one with a stake in what happened here. If he started killing slavers, it wouldn't make getting out of here any easier.

"Lead the way in, then," she said.

He took another shuddering breath and pushed into the crowd.

They cut a laborious path to the curved perimeter of the chamber where the waiting slaves were kept. Half-walls kept the crowds back. Behind them, orange-clothed slaves stood packed in stalls, flies buzzing around them. Their owners waited behind the half-walls, staring at prospective buyers with naked greed.

Talina's mother had never kept slaves. It was frowned upon among officers, though in the past few years some had taken to buying slaves as valets, or to keep their homes. Jonas had never even brought up the subject. She'd just thought he was a good person, ha.

Luc scanned the slaves in each stall, lingering near some and squinting before they moved on. Some owners saw Luc's interest and championed their slaves' good qualities, but Talina brushed them off as best she could. She was already past ready to leave.

Luc went rigid. His eyes fastened on a stall packed with a particularly sorry-looking group, which was saying something here. The slaves' hair was long and matted, and so grimy she doubted if she could tell the actual colors. Their orange uniforms were cleaner by comparison, as if that was all they needed to be presentable.