by Stella Cassy
I snorted loudly and the sound surprised even me. “He has been through a lot?” I repeated, with indignation.
“I know that sounds—”
“I don’t care what he has been through,” I said, before Carissa could finish her sentence. “He is not the slave. I am.”
“Some would argue that grief and pain could be chains in their own right.”
“So he’s lost someone he cares about,” I said. “Who cares? My entire family is lost to me. I don’t know where they are, if they’re alive or dead. And my squad—my men…”
Tears lobbed themselves in my throat and made it impossible for me to continue. No, I wouldn’t go there now. That memory burned my soul every time I relived it.
Carissa looked at me with sad eyes. For a moment I thought she was going to leave and let me stew in my anger, but instead she walked closer to me.
“I know you’re not going to want to hear this,” Carissa said softly. “I know this won’t make sense to you now. I know you will see this as a betrayal. I understand all that, but I need you to understand something too. We all do what it takes to survive. It is the one thing that is true of every species in the known universe. Everyone wants to live and when you’ve resolved to survive, you need to do things that are sometimes… morally questionable. You need to make the choice and you need to see it through.”
I frowned, taken by her words despite the fact that I had no idea what she was talking about.
“I don’t know what—”
“Befriend your owner, Yvette,” Carissa counseled. “Befriend the Drakon and who knows… something good might come out of it.”
“You want me to make peace with my captor?” I asked.
“There are some things none of us can change. The slave trade is one of them. Since you cannot change that, you must find another way to survive.”
“By befriending Ranel?”
His name slipped free from my lips and I instantly regretted it. Carissa was staring at me with her head cocked to one side.
“I understand that what I’m saying may sound impossible,” Carissa continued. “But I am uniquely qualified to advise you because I have been in your position. I was a slave just like you and I had a Drakon master just like you. And yet somehow, I found peace. I found happiness and most importantly, I found love. Now our children run through the halls of our ship and I can’t even imagine a time when I didn’t love my husband.”
“Then you’re lucky,” I said, waving away her words as nonsense in my head. “Not all of us can be.”
Carissa’s eyes lingered for a moment on my three-leaf clover tattoo. Then she nodded and turned for the door. “If you need anything Yvette, you can always come to me.”
Carissa stood at the threshold for a second longer. Her eyes lingered on my face and then she turned and disappeared from view. As angry as I had been a moment ago, I was disappointed to find myself alone again. Sometimes silence could be claustrophobic, and I felt its gnarly fingers wrap themselves around my body.
Carissa had advised me to make friends with my brooding captor. I bristled against the idea on principle. His surly fierceness was armor and I knew I wouldn’t be able to puncture through it. I continued working but I couldn’t get the conversation with Carissa out of my head.
Was I being stubborn by dismissing her advice? That night, when I was lying alone on my thin, hard mattress, staring up at the claw marks that decorated the ceiling of my cell, I started to think about what it would be like to befriend Ranel. I started to wonder what it would be like to talk to him as equals.
I started to really think about it.
6
Ranel
“Did you see any strange behavior when you were in the slave market?” Dashel asked me.
I took a hunk of Gormack meat and bit into it. The flesh was tender, but it still had a certain amount of chew. “No more than usual,” I replied. “The Pax Alliance still dominates the market.”
The room we were sitting in was a large oval shaped space with high ceilings and a window that overlooked the fleets that all three of us commanded.
“Did you buy from them?”
“Only one slave,” I admitted. “The Nortian nanny.”
Dashel and Tarion exchanged a glance. “The one you purchased to look after our children?”
I narrowed my eyes at both of them. “If you have a problem with my choice, maybe the two of you should have been down there buying your own fucking nannies.”
Dashel smiled. “We checked her collar; it was free of ticks and bugs.”
“What about the other one?” Tarion asked.
“Other one?” Dashel repeated.
“He bought another slave from the Pax. Didn’t you?” Tarion asked, turning toward me. “Carissa mentioned that she met the girl.”
Of course Carissa had taken it upon herself to visit my slave. I hope she hadn’t filled the girl’s head with ridiculous ideas of freedom.
“A human?” Dashel asked, looking interested.
“I didn’t buy her,” I admitted. “She was… given to me.”
“Given to you?” Dashel asked, sitting up a little straighter as concern colored his dark features. “The Pax never give anything up for free… especially not to one of our kind.”
“The girl is marked,” I explained.
“An ill omen,” Dashel said, with a frown. “Why did you accept her? They clearly meant to insult.”
“I don’t believe in ill omens,” I growled. “And neither should you. We are the Hielsrane Drakons. We reap what we sow.”
“He got the girl for free,” Tarion said with a shrug. “Where have you put her to work?”
“In the scullery,” I replied, gruffly. “She’s probably wrecked the whole fucking place by now.”
Tarion and Dashel exchanged a glance. “Why do you say that?” Dashel asked.
“Never mind,” I said.
“Bring the girl in to clear our plates,” Tarion said, curiosity coloring his tone.
I was about to protest but thought better of it. Tarion and Dashel would just find a way to read into it. So I rang in through the intercom and summoned the girl to come and clear away our plates.
“There are two different kinds of Melberry pies on the table,” I pointed out.
Dashel shrugged. “The children like it,” he smiled. “And I’ve developed a fondness for Melberry myself.”
Yes, the children. Ever since my fellow brothers had taken their human wives to bed, our fleet had been overrun with hatchlings. Of course, they weren’t hatchlings at all. Tarion, Dashel and I had all hatched from eggs. But this new generation was different. They had grown in their mother’s bellies before hissing and screaming their way into the world. It seemed to me to be a messy and unnecessary process. The humans had strange ways and it shocked me still that those ways had slowly taken root within our own traditions.
There was a tentative knock on the door, and I knew that the girl had arrived. “Enter,” I called.
It took a while for the door to open and when it did, I saw her struggling with it. Drakon wood was immensely heavy and I realized that with her broken finger and two left feet, it must have been difficult to maneuver. She had a large wheel trolley that she was trying to slip through the door before it could close on her. My first instinct was to walk over and help her, but I reminded myself that she was a slave… and Tarion and Dashel were watching.
Most of our ships were equipped with sliding or automatic doors, but there were still a handful of traditional doors that peppered the ships, harkening to the architecture of our past.
She finally managed to get inside and I could see the steady rise and fall of her chest. The skin there was pale, punctured by spots of color that might have been a result of exertion. The fabric of her slave’s garment had been displaced slightly to highlight the tops of her breasts. I looked back towards the remaining food on the table.
“Clear the dishes,” I ordered her. “And be quick about it
.”
“She has an injury, Ranel,” Dashel pointed out.
“Fine,” I grunted. “Take your time.”
Her eyes flashed to my face, but I looked away. She came around the table towards me and took my plate first.
“Is there anything I can get you, sir?” she asked, her tone marked with respect.
I looked at her searchingly, wondering at the shift in her attitude. “No.”
“Do you require any more refreshment?” she asked.
“Just clear the table,” I said.
She nodded willingly and started moving between chairs, taking plates and stacking them against her forearm.
“Is that a good idea?” I couldn’t help but ask. “You’re bound to drop them.”
“I can manage,” she said. “Thank you for your concern.”
“My concern is for the cutlery,” I said brusquely.
I was aware that Tarion was watching me carefully, and he was starting to annoy me. “Something on your mind, Tarion?” I demanded, addressing him directly.
He raised his eyebrows. “A few things,” he nodded.
I ground my teeth together and Tarion’s smile only grew wider. The girl seemed oblivious to our little exchange. Once her hands were full, she stacked the plates onto her trolley and then came back to the table to take the serving dishes.
She was a few feet from Tarion when his hand reached out and grabbed her arm. My head snapped towards them and I felt my body tense immediately.
“Stand still,” Tarion said. “Let me look at you.”
“What are you doing?” I growled.
Tarion looked at me with barely concealed amusement. “Just inspecting your new purchase,” he said. “You don’t mind, do you?”
He was trying to goad me, and he knew I had never been very good at hiding how I really felt. “Let the girl go.”
Tarion glanced around her at me. “She’s very comely… Carissa mentioned it too.”
“The girl has work to do,” I said, as my words grew more clipped.
“Come now Tarion,” Dashel said, stepping in. “She’s not your slave to inspect. Leave her to her work.”
Tarion smiled and released the girl. She stumbled back and looked over to me with pink cheeks that were flushed with embarrassment. What was it about this girl? She made me feel like I needed to protect her all the time.
I gestured to the empty serving dishes on the table. “Go on.”
She nodded and continued with her work, although this time I could see that she was making an attempt to be as fast as possible. Once she had cleared everything away, she pushed the trolley back towards the heavy door. She hesitated for a moment before pulling hard at its dragon-helmed handle with her good hand. It barely budged. I gave a deep sigh and went to help her.
Her face was red with struggle when I approached her, and it made me smile despite myself. “Move aside,” I said. “I’ll open it for you.”
“I can do it,” she said stubbornly.
I snorted. “Move aside,” I said firmly.
She sighed with defeat and took a few steps to the left. I pulled open the door with one hand and grabbed the trolley with the other. I pulled it out into the wide entrance passageway and the girl followed quickly behind me.
There was the sharp crack of the door as it shut on us. “Come on,” I said, pushing the trolley down the passageway.
“What are you doing?” she asked, running after me.
“You’re not going to be able to get this trolley back to the scullery in one piece if I don’t help you,” I said gruffly.
“I could try.”
“We both know how that’ll turn out.”
She seemed as taken back by my behavior as I was. I had never been inclined to help the slaves. So why was I doing it now? When we got back to the scullery, I pushed the trolley through the doorway and parked it by the sink for convenience’s sake.
“Get to work,” I barked. “I’m not going to stand here and wash them with you.”
Her hand reached out and landed on my forearm. I stared down at it for a moment, feeling a strange prickle of warmth cut through my scales. Her hand was so light and small. It was perhaps the prettiest thing I had ever seen, with long fingers that ended in harmless little nails that could do no damage. It set a stark contrast to my large tough plated arms that had no grace or beauty.
“Thank you,” she said, as her eyes met mine.
I cleared my throat. “Your finger is broken and the trolley was heavy—"
“Not for this,” she said. “I meant… thank you… for stopping him back there.”
Should a human’s eyes be that large? It was unnatural. I pulled away from her abruptly and made for the door. I didn’t even glance behind before I left. I just headed back to the dining gallery as fast as I could manage.
Tarion and Dashel were standing by the gallery window when I arrived. They had their backs to me, and I was grateful not to have to look either one of them in the eye. I was hoping to avoid talking about the girl altogether, but the moment I joined them at the window, Tarion turned to me with a smile on his face.
“That was kind of you,” he said meaningfully.
“Our fleets can’t stay here indefinitely,” I said, ignoring him pointedly. “We’ll need to move out soon.”
“I’m a little surprised Ranel,” Tarion continued. “I thought you preferred drakes to nesses.”
I gritted my teeth and let out a low growl. “I prefer nothing and no one. The only thing on my mind right now is my crew and my ship.”
“So you don’t find her pretty?” Tarion asked.
Dashel sighed. “Tarion, just drop it.”
“It’s a simple question.”
“She’s a human,” I spat.
“That’s not an answer,” Tarion replied. “And even so… humans are not so different from us.”
“Aren’t they?” I demanded. “I wasn’t aware they could shift into dragons at will.”
“We are not so different from them… when we’re in our shifter bodies.”
“She is a slave,” I snapped. “And I am a commander of the Hielsrane.”
“As we all were with our women before they became our wives,” Dashel pointed out softly.
“Your choice to cross-breed is your own,” I replied. “I want no part in it. Now stop this nonsense – we need to discuss the future of the fleet.”
I could see that Tarion wanted to tease me some more about the girl, but Dashel sent him a glare that convinced him to leave me alone.
“Have we received the report yet?” I asked, steering the topic firmly back to matters of the fleet commanders.
“We just received word that Moddoc has arrived,” Dashel said. “He will be here shortly.”
“Moddoc?” I asked.
“He manages communications between Thirren and the fleet,” Dashel replied. “He will be travelling on my ship for the time being and I asked him to see if he could get any information that might be useful to us.”
I frowned. “He’s playing the role of informant? Don’t you think that’s a little risky?”
“He’s a Drakon of the Hielsrane,” Dashel said immediately. “We can trust him.”
At that exact moment there came a loud knock on the door. “Enter,” Dashel called.
The door pushed open to reveal a broad shouldered Drakon with sinewy ash-blonde hair and white scales. He was wearing dark colors that emphasized the snowy beauty of his draconic endowments. His face was square shaped and classical in feature, while his eyes were a murky blue that was shrouded in a detached apathy that I found dangerous.
“Moddoc,” Dashel said, turning to him. “What have our spies got to say?”
“There is talk that the Pax Alliance is on the move,” Moddoc said, his eyes ranging around the room as though he were nervous. “I don’t know details, but I believe that they’re planning another conquest.”
“Of course they are,” I snorted. “They always are. Surely, a pla
net or two was mentioned?”
Moddoc didn’t even meet my eye when he answered. “Raal.”
“Raal?” I said, narrowing my eyes at the somber faced Drakon. “Raal is heavily fortified. Even the Pax Alliance would not dare to attempt a conquest on Raal.”
“Wouldn’t they?” Tarion asked. “The natural resources on Raal are extremely valuable.”
“The Pax Alliance have a standing trade deal with the Raalii,” I pointed out. “They get what they want from the planet as it stands.”
“But they pay for it,” Moddoc spoke up in his carefully monotone voice. “If they take Raal, not only will they have unlimited resources, but they can also block any other species from purchasing Raalii metals.”
“The Pax have always had bold ambitions,” Dashel nodded.
“It could be a feint,” I said.
“What do you mean?” Dashel asked.
“Raal is not so far from Thirren,” I pointed out. “What if the Pax mean to take Thirren?”
“Thirren?” Dashel repeated, with a disbelieving smile on his face. “Our home planet?”
“They wouldn’t dare,” Tarion said sharply. “They don’t want to start another war with us.”
“They have no reason to start a war with the Raalii,” I said, through gritted teeth. “But the war between the Pax and the Hielsrane has been brewing for decades now. Even if Thirren is not under threat, Raal is not so far from our borders. We should set course for Thirren immediately,” I said. “If there’s even a chance our planet is being threatened, we need to be there to protect it.”
“Thirren is not the planet being threatened,” Moddoc said, shifting from one leg to the other.
“Spies can sometimes mistake lies for truths and musings for plans,” I countered.
“There is no way the Pax will target Thirren,” Dashel said calmly.
“They fear us too much,” Tarion nodded.
“We have power on our side,” I nodded. “But not the numbers. The Pax on the other hand—"
“Are the rodents of our galaxy,” Tarion interrupted forcefully. “And we will exterminate them once and for all. But we have no reason to fear them.”
