I noticed a group of vendors bickering, and a second later, they were brawling in the middle of the street. I moved past them, dragging Skrew away from the fight. He seemed intent on spectating, but we had places to be.
The bazaar was a huge cultural melting pot full of opportunistic vendors, desperate workers, and traders, and species of all kinds. It was a bomb waiting to go off, and I had no intention of staying here any longer than I had to. But there was the small problem of the hooded figure who kept appearing at the corners of my vision.
A few moments later, I checked to make sure Skrew was still with me and hadn’t gone back to spectate the brawl when I caught sight of the hooded figure yet again. Whoever it was, it was bold enough to follow us through the crowd. Enough was enough.
I had to find out who the spy was and what it wanted.
I put an arm around Skrew’s shoulders and pointed at a vendor, pretending to talk about either the long-limbed, hairless alien behind the trash it was trying to sell, or the trash itself.
“We’re being followed,” I whispered. “Someone wearing a—turn back around and quit looking, just listen. Someone wearing a hood. I’m going to stop at this vendor. You walk to the next one, then double-back and drag the sneak behind the empty stall to our right. Got it?”
Skrew’s answer was a giggle and clapping hands.
Two minutes later, Skrew was gone. I tried to make sense of what the vendor was selling while I watched the edge of the nearby stall, waiting to see Skrew drag the spy behind it.
“And what do you call this thing?” I asked, lifting up an odd device to its salesman.
“It’s a transrectifying particle unit,” the vendor explained in a slow, monotone voice.
“Is it a weapon, or a tool?”
“It transrectifies particles,” the vendor shrugged. “You want it? I’ll give you a good price.“
I was relieved when I saw Skrew drag a kicking, fighting, hooded spy behind the big stall. I sat the transrectifying particle unit down, thanked the vendor for his time, and joined Skrew.
When I got there, the spy had Skrew at knifepoint and looked like it was about to gut him. The space behind the empty vendor’s stall was piled high with rusted scraps of metal. Small stones skittered underfoot as I moved in to rescue my guide.
I grabbed the spy’s skinny wrist, plucked the short knife from its grip, and spun the spy around to face me. Then, I pulled its hood back, to reveal the lizard-woman who’d told me I was a bad man after saving her ass from three Enforcers.
I got a better look at her, since she wasn’t spitting in my general direction, nor trying to insult me. Her skin was very human-like, except for the scales that ran down her forehead, past her lips, down her throat, and between her breasts. I was glad to see she had two of them. Anything was possible with aliens.
Her eyes were green and yellow—more yellow near her vertical, cat-like pupil and more green at the edge of her irises. The rest of her eyes were white, like mine. Though they were different than any eyes I’d ever seen on a person, they were a beautiful color. Her red hair hung loose over her shoulders.
“What do you want?” I demanded.
“She threaten to evisir… efisur… cut Skrew!” the vrak hissed. “Maybe Jacob gut her? Maybe pull head off and play toss-back with it? Maybe kick femur out ass and—”
“You’re fine,” I interrupted. “Stand guard. Let me know if anyone’s coming.”
Skrew frowned again and pouted. I didn’t blame him for wanting revenge. Also, I wasn’t convinced I wouldn’t do one of the things he suggested. I didn’t like being followed, and she still hadn’t answered my question.
“What do you want?” I said slowly.
“You killed Pedaloth,” she said. “Why?”
“I killed the dragon because it attacked a village of innocent people.”
“What village?” she asked, disbelief coating her words like dirty syrup.
“I don’t know if it had a name,” I said.
“Return the sword to me, and I will try to forget your face.”
“Maybe Skrew rearrange your face,” the vrak added as he raised all four of his fists. “Then everybody try to forget. Look like your face caught fire and someone try to stop fire with chain, huh?”
“That’s enough, Skrew,” I said, never breaking eye contact with the spy. “Why do you care if I killed it or not?” I asked the scaled woman. “The thing was a monster. It was more than half machine. It tried to kill everyone.”
“I don’t believe you.” Her expression was defiant but frightened. She knew I could kill her, yet even then, she displayed a courage uncommon among most people. It made me even more interested in her.
“Where is this village?” she asked again.
I didn't want to tell her. If I let her go, and she told anyone else, the home of the Ish-Nul might be burned to the ground in retaliation. But there was something in her eyes, in her expression, that told me she wasn’t out for vengeance. She wanted something else, but what it was, I wasn’t sure.
I sighed. “I told you; I don’t know where it is. It’s by a shore. The people are called the Ish-Nul.”
She gasped. “That is far to the north. Very far. Pedaloth did not travel that far. You lie.”
“When was the last time you saw this… Pedaloth?”
She didn’t answer, but her expression softened, and she chewed on her bottom lip. It had been a while. “We have not seen Pedaloth for 20 cycles.”
I assumed “cycles” meant days. “Would that have been enough time for the creature to travel all the way to the Ish-Nul?”
She nodded and continued to chew her lip.
“Why do you care?” It seemed like a
