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ANDI
The Sacred Grove, with its rustling trees and gurgling fountain all gilded by the “moonlight” shed from the dimmed artificial sun above, abruptly disappeared. There was blackness for a moment and then Andi found she was inside a huge, crowded arena filled with hundreds—no, thousands of people.
At first she didn’t understand where she was. About half the people seemed to be standing or kneeling on blocks of stone—like a pedestal you’d put a statue on, she thought. The other half were milling around like shoppers in a store, looking at the people who were on display, most of whom were either naked or in some state of undress.
What is this? Some kind of weird museum? Andi wondered. And then she heard someone shouting,
“Slaves! Fresh slaves for sale! Fresh and handsome and eager to serve you, perfect for all your needs!”
Suddenly she understood—the people on pedestals were up for sale. They were the slaves being bought and sold and the ones wandering around looking at them were the prospective buyers.
No one seemed to be looking at her and Andi wasn’t sure if she was just a ghostly observer in this memory or if she could actually interact with anyone.
“Hey, hello?” she said, turning to a man with green skin and about two dozen nose rings running around the outside rims of his oversized nostrils. “Hi, can you hear me?” She waved a hand in front of his face but he paid her no attention at all.
Andi tried poking him…but her hand passed right through him. All right, it seemed that she was nothing but a ghost in this particular memory. She wondered if that would be true of all of them. If it was, how could she possibly protect or heal Thrax? And where was her partner, anyway?
She turned in a circle and finally spotted him. He was kneeling on a hard stone pedestal with his hands cuffed behind his back.
Andi went to him at once. He looked so much younger than the seasoned warrior she’d been working with for the past three years. It was clear he still hadn’t gotten his full growth. He looked to be around seventeen or eighteen and he didn’t have any tattoos yet—not a single one. His horns were smaller and shorter, as he was himself.
He can’t be more than five foot ten or eleven, Andi thought, which was a far cry from her partner’s current seven-foot height. He wasn’t quite as muscular either though it was clear the potential was there. Basically, he was a boy on the cusp of manhood—a very sensitive and vulnerable age.
Thrax was naked, his shaft on display like the other male slaves. There was a look of mingled fear and defiance on his face.
Kneeling on the pedestal beside him was another Kindred warrior—a Beast Kindred, Andi thought, judging from his golden eyes, black hair, and olive complexion. He was a little older than Thrax, but not much—maybe just a few years.
“Who do you think is going to buy us?” the Beast Kindred muttered in a low voice.
“Don’t fucking know,” the younger Thrax growled back. “And I don’t fucking care, either. Whoever it is, I’m going to escape as soon as possible.”
“You and me both,” the Beast Kindred muttered. “I just hope they don’t—ahhh!”
His last words were cut off in a shout of agony as the lizard-like Saurian slaver who had been walking around the pedestals suddenly jammed a pain-prod into his ribs and gave him a shock.
“I thought I told the two of you that you mussst be sssilent!” the Saurian hissed, his long, forked tongue flickering between his sharp teeth.
“Sorry, Sir!” the Beast Kindred gasped. “I just?—“
“Sssilent!” the slaver demanded, shoving the pain-stick into his ribs again.
“Ahhhh!” the Beast Kindred cried again, nearly falling off the platform he was on.
Andi stepped forward to stop the cruelty, only to remember she was nothing but a ghost here. But suddenly a new voice rang out.
“Stop that at once—leave him alone!” A Yonnite Mistress in a flowing green gown came forward with her hand outstretched in an imperious “halt!” gesture. She had long brown hair streaked with green that matched her dress and kind brown eyes.
“Who are you to tell me how to dissscipline my own ssslaves?” the Saurian demanded.
“I’m Mistress Sweetwater and I intend to buy this slave—as long as you don’t damage him too much first!” the woman exclaimed.
“Oh, that’sss quite a different matter!” The slaver drew the pain prod back at once, leaving the Beast Kindred slumped and panting on his pedestal, clutching at his ribs where the prod had shocked him.
“You poor boy.” The Yonnite Mistress went to him at once. Putting her hands on the sides of his face, she lifted his head until he was looking at her. “Are you all right?” she asked him anxiously. “Did he hurt you?”
“I…I’m fine,” the Beast Kindred panted. “Why do you care?” he added defiantly.
“I care because I want to buy you and train you to please me, dear boy,” she said, giving him a gentle smile. “But first tell me—are you of age?”
