“Pedaloth is ancient,” she explained. Her voice was strained, and she worked hard not to cry. “Pedaloth is sacred to my people. She has been with us since the beginning. She has protected us, and we have cared for her.”
“She wasn’t being all that protective when she attacked the village I was in,” I countered.
“No,” the woman said, “she was not.”
I waited for a pack of hawkers waving farming tools to pass by the stall before I spoke again.
“Did you send Pedaloth to attack the Ish-Nul?”
“No, never!” she gasped. “We did not command Pedaloth. We never needed to. She never strayed far. When the vrak came to take our people, she killed and ate them all to protect us.”
I heard Skrew inhale, and I was certain he was about to say something nasty. I held up a hand to silence him.
“What is your name?” I asked the lizard-woman.
She took a deep breath and stood up straight before answering. I hadn’t realized she’d been cowering. “I am called Yaltu.”
She studied my face as she said it, probably looking for a hint of recognition. I’d never heard it before, which seemed to make her curious. Whoever she was, she thought she was important. Of course, Skrew thought he was important, too… and he was looney.
“Who sent Pedaloth to attack the Ish-Nul, then?” I asked.
“I do not know,” Yaltu said. “The Ish-Nul are peaceful people. They hunt the creatures of the land and the creatures of the sea. They do not hunt those who are sacred to my people. They do not make war with us. We sometimes buy the creatures from the sea they catch. They smoke the meat, and it is delicious. We have never had quarrel with them. We would not bring war to them. We would not bring harm to them.”
“Your dragon killed many of them. And burned homes.”
“Pedaloth must have been affected by someone or something.” She paused for a moment. “Are you of the Ish-Nul?” She studied my face and my features, probably looking for something that would give her a clue.
“No, I’m not. I found one of their people as a slave near a place called the refinery. I freed her.” I gestured at Skrew. “And this nosy vrak, who should be watching for trouble instead of staring at us.”
Skrew grumbled something about making trouble rather than looking for it.
“You freed a slave?” Yaltu asked, her expression one of startled bewilderment.
“Of course I did,” I said defensively.
“Why would you rescue a slave? Most are debt-slaves. They are stupid and must work for their master until their debt is paid. Many are criminals who must remain a slave for their whole life to repay their debt for the crimes they have committed. Why would you save a worthless slave?”
“Because slavery is wrong,” I whispered. “Slavery has always been wrong and will always be wrong. There’s never a good excuse for it. There’s never a good reason for it. There’s never a time when it’s right or just or best for society. I abhor slavery, and I abhor slavers.” I took a half-step back and relaxed my hands when I realized I had gripped my Ebon’s hilt.
Yaltu’s expression wasn’t one of fright or intimidation, though. Her eyes sparkled, but not because they were full of tears at hearing my words. Sympathy and understanding touched her yellow-green eyes. She examined me all the way from the top of my head to the tips of my leather shoes as if she’d never seen a human before. When her eyes returned to my face, her cheeks were red.
She was blushing.
This was taking an odd turn. I’d been expecting a knife in the back, not another admirer.
“You are an outlander,” she said. It was a statement, not a question, but I answered it anyway.
“If that means what I think it means, then yes.”
“You are not even from this world?”
“Not even close to this world,” I confirmed. “Our aliens aren’t so pretty.”
Skrew giggled, and it almost looked like he was batting his eyelashes. I shot him a cold stare, and he returned to watching one side of the stall. The other side looked clear. Vendors and desperate buyers milled about and filled the air with their chatter, but that worked to my advantage. Even if they could see us, the assumption would be that we were conducting business.
I looked back at Yaltu. She’d grown quiet after my barely veiled compliment.
“Do you keep pets?” she spoke up after a second, her expression suddenly happy.
The question seemed so strange, I had to ask her to repeat it to make sure I’d heard her correctly.
“No, I don’t have any pets,” I said.
“Do you know what a beast of burden is?” she asked, studying my face and squinting at me.
“Sure. They’re animals bred or pressed into service to do heavy lifting, towing, and other strenuous activities for others. Why?”
“Is it good to have your kind, humans, as beasts of burden?”
“No,” I told her sharply. “Of course not. It’s not okay to have your people as beasts of burden either.”
She sighed, and it was obvious to me she’d been working her way toward one final question. This was a test, then, but what was her purpose?
“Where do you draw the line, human? Where do you say one is good for eating, burden, and work? Where does that line end and slavery begin?”
It was a good question, but I was still confused why she was asking it. I’d caught her spying on me. Skrew had threatened her life. Now, she wanted to know my thoughts on what constituted a slave? I was curious, so I played along.
“I suppose that creatures who can tell me they don’t like to be slaves is where I draw the line. If they’re intelligent enough to speak the words, then I know they’re intelligent enough to know they are slaves. Otherwise, they’re pets, and as long as
