Indomitable

n.i.n.e

Almost as though they were magnetic, eyes followed Remi and her cousins. People stopped what they were doing and paused conversations in order to look upon them, though it did nothing to quiet the deafening buzz of overall noise in the streets.

Remi had never liked crowds—or being around anyone she didn't know. Being at such close proximity to so many people, and often being bumped into by those who didn't notice her, made her claustrophobia flare up. Also, just being out in a place where eyes followed her every move made her anxious. She felt like running away, out of view, and hiding until they all went away. Their presence made her irritable.

Bile rose up in the back of Remi's throat as a seller accidentally bumped into her. She didn't fall, but the copious apologies he uttered as he ran away made her extremely uncomfortable.

Fear lingered heavy in the air, but so did lust. Those who were weak were terrified, ducking as they tried to stay out of sight and not get in the way. Those who were strong lusted after the power that would come to their name if they managed to get a Designer under their control to do their bidding.

Remi could understand why their powers were desired after. Designers could stop bodies from aging, torture in a way that could procure information from the most hardened of men, and bring any freshly dead person back to life.

Remi supposed that it was this greed that made the Designers such sought after targets. This was just another reason why it was so important for her to have a bodyguard, her father had said.

The smell of sweat and dirt was pungent in the air and made Remi wrinkle her nose in a grimace.

Many slaves trod the streets as well, chained and bound with painfully heavy bindings as they trailed obediently behind their masters, eyes cold and dead.

Remi glanced at Killure, who was staring at a caravan of slaves being pulled down the road by two horses, and directed by pinched faced men with whips. The pained screams of slaves being whipped pierced the air, mingling in with the regular marketplace sounds.

No one batted an eye, because no one thought of it as wrong.

She watched as Killure glanced back to his own unbound hands and ankles, a questioning look in his eyes.

Remi turned away before he could glance back up at her.

Blue, who had been walking on ahead, beside Bliss with the sailor they'd brought back to life, until now, pulled back to walk beside Remi.

"Mind if I talk to your slave?" he asked blandly.

Remi eyed him suspiciously. "I'd prefer if you didn't harass him."

"I won't."

Remi sighed, grabbing the hem of her shirt and fanning it back and forth in hopes of getting some semblance of relief from the heat. "Alright then."

Blue fell back further, walking alongside Killure now. He had to look up to meet the creature's amused gaze. "Icix. Do you know where we're going?"

Killure only lowered his head, as was customary for slave to do when a superior spoke to them until they had permission to respond.

Blue glanced at Remi, and she quickly caught on. "Permission to speak granted, Killure. Only if you want."

She noticed Blue looking at her oddly, but he soon diverted his attention.

"Well?"

"Captain Rismak's estate," Killure replied flippantly, picking out the dirt from his nails without a care in the world.