Astra

Chapter Sixteen: Luck of the Brotherhood: Bounty Hunt

"It has a spiral design to prevent escapees,” Snopes said.  “And there's a courtyard in the center where they have auctions. But I think our friend here,” he jutted his chin at the slavedriver ahead of them, “is heading straight for the dealers to try and negotiate a better price. So stay close."

A sullen soldier leaned on a pole, cleaning his claws. His skin had a grey, bubbled look. Too much zuu. He sneered as they passed and caught Peregrine by the neck.

“State your business, witchchild. There's nothing for Phodiine to learn here. Unless you want to work for an education.” His teeth were long and yellow.

Peregrine stiffened.

Gill spoke quickly in the Phynosian tongue. “We seek only to understand, pairo,” she soothed, her voice whirring, “There is something we can learn from everyone.” Gently, Peregrine pressed a bag of zuu into the soldier’s claws. The soldier grabbed it and tossed Peregrine away like a chewed bone.

“Idiot greenie,” he said, ripping into the sack. In a moment he had the zuu out and was administering the drops under his tongue.

“Is there more where that came from?” the Knife said quietly, as they went away.

“Hell.”

“What’s that?” Howl said. They tried to look nonchalant as they followed the lifter and its hollow-eyed load.

“I- I could have sworn I had more.”

Howl exhaled sharply. “He robbed ye blind, son.”

“That will force our hand a little sooner, but just as well. Ah. This is it.”

“Weather eyes, gentlemen, weather eyes.”

The lifter made a final turn and descended into the tunnel system. They walked behind it, chanting softly. The driver turned and stuck his head out.  “Hey,” he saidd. “Offer one up for me, will ya? This is my last load for a while; gotta help out.”

Howl gave him a Phodiine style blessing, complete with deep bow. The Phyrnosian driver bowed his head in thanks. Peregrine felt a small twinge for him. Slavedriver or no, he was a cog who was just doing his job. Of course, when your daily bread required you to traffic in pain...

Gill watched the people in the lifter. A man sat in the rear corner of the lifter, his arms crossed.  He stared at them boldly. They were dressed as priests, after all: he was willing them to do something. She met his eyes, although of course he could not see her face beneath its heavy hood and veil. Although he would never know it, she was making him a promise.

He would not spend another night in that lifter.  She noticed Howl touching the side of his head, the side with his metal eye. “Do you see anything?”

He nodded. “There's no more an’ a single system beneath the market, a few hidey holes, two exits.”

“It’s a floating market,” Snopes said, quiet. “They never have time to establish much more than that. They get run out.  The slave trade’s a dirty secret. Most Phyrnosians prefer humans did not visit Phyrnos at all, but they don't wish them ill.”

The driver slowed to a stop and leaned out the side of his lifter. “Hoy!" he called into a hollow; "Wait til you see the lovely bunch of bags I've got today.”

A voice from the hollow grunted. "Enter."  The lifter turned into the burrow and disappeared.

"Qabal's in there,” Snopes said, but Howl cut him off.

“There's two others with him. Mark now,” the captain said.  “There’s the way we came in, and the one exits back into Phayara. Peregrine, you radio up our coordinates. We need a lift over Phayara's market smartaway.”