Our destination turned out to be another plaza. This one was dominated by a massive stone dome that rose at least thirty meters tall and a hundred and fifty meters wide and was surrounded by obelisks and other ornamental structures. The dome was cracked and partially-destroyed, but it was still an impressive sight.
Despite the rain, Obaswoon guards stood at alert at a big stone archway that served as the entrance to the plaza.
I was surprised to see that the area around the dome had been mostly cleared of debris and someone had made an effort to beautify the plaza with gardens and potted trees.
Narcissa led us through an opening in the stone dome and then issued what I guessed were some some commands in the Obaswoon language. The men who had been carting the Mayir gear and weapons nodded and departed with their spoils.
The Obaswoon carrying Ana-Zhi was also given some instructions that I didn’t understand and began to walk away with her still slung around his shoulder. When I protested, Narcissa told me that Ana-Zhi would be tended to by the village’s healer.
“Don’t worry. If I wanted either of you dead, I wouldn’t bother dragging you halfway across town to kill you.”
I couldn’t argue with her logic.
Inside the dome was some sort of little village, with various stone houses and other buildings crowded with natives. The dome itself was held up by a forest of wooden scaffolding and pillars. I was surprised to see strings of lights illuminating the area. Maybe the Obaswoon weren’t as primitive as I originally thought.
The smell of rain mixed with the smell of cooking fires—which made me a little hungry. I hadn’t had any real food in four or five days. But although I looked longingly and obviously over to where Obaswoon families were preparing their meals, Narcissa didn’t offer any refreshments. She just kept walking through the village.
Eventually we arrived at a wide staircase leading down to an underground passage. The staircase was guarded and lit by torches. We traveled down maybe a dozen meters and then along the passage for another thirty meters. The passage ended up in what I can only describe as a throne room.
Narcissa cast off her cloak and ascended a stone dais upon which stood a large carved wooden throne that stood taller than me. Servants brought her a large mug of some sort of drink and wrapped her in a fur shawl as she eased herself into the throne.
It all struck me as a bit much.
She gestured to one of the guards and he brought a simple wooden bench from the side of the room to a spot just in front of the dais. Apparently that was where I was supposed to park my butt.
Thank Dynark I was offered a drink as well. I greedily accepted the mug and, since I was definitely feeling dehydrated, I took a deep drink. The liquid tasted like a weak cider. Not the best flavor in the world, but I was totally okay with that.
“Comfortable?” Narcissa asked.
“Under the circumstances, yes. But…” I lifted my hands—still bound with stun-cuffs.
“Oh, that. Well, I suppose you aren’t going to try to run away. Are you?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Very well. Hands above your head.”
Huh? I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I did my best to comply, lifting my wrists just over the top of my head. My arms were cramping pretty badly from being confined.
“Higher. For safety’s sake.”
Despite the soreness I stretched my arms out higher.
Before I could register what was happening, Narcissa drew a long pistol from a holster at her thigh, swung it up, and blasted the stun cuffs in a shower of sparks.
My hands jerked back and a stab of pain ran through my shoulders, but it only lasted a second. The cuffs clattered to the ground and I was free.
But, holy shit!
“You could have shot off my hands!” My heart was pounding like a vibro-hammer.
“Not much chance of that,” she said. “Besides, those were disruptor rounds.”
“Yeah, still could have left me with a stump.”
“There are worse things. Now tell me your name and what expedition you’re from.”
I was still shaking from the adrenaline surge, but I leaned back on the bench and took a deep breath—trying to pull myself together.
“My name is Jannigan Beck and I’m from Beck Salvage.”
“You’re who?”
“Beck,” I said. “Jannigan Beck. You might have heard of my father.”
“Holy shit,” Narcissa said. “I’ve got Beck Junior sitting in my parlor?”
I’d hardly call a thousand-square-meter throne room a parlor, but whatever.
“Where’s your father?” she asked.
Now, here was the tricky part. Even though I was somewhat grateful to this woman for saving us from the Mayir, I wasn’t about to tell her the real deal about my dad.
“He wasn’t a part of this expedition.” A half truth.
“So they put Baby Beck in charge?” she chuckled. “Nice.”
“Actually, Ana-Zhi—the woman with me—is our captain. I am kind of an observer.”
Narcissa made a face. “Since when does Beck Salvage float a crew with any kind of dead weight? Who were you working for?”
“The Shima.”
“Uh huh. Don’t tell me—the Crescent of the Stars, right?”
“Yeah, the Kryrk is what they called it.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Did you find it?”
I wasn’t yet ready to tell Narcissa the whole truth, so I said, “I think the Mayir have it.”
“How do you know?” Then she added, “I’ve been looking for the Crescent for years.”
“It was on Bandala,” I said.
“Bandala? That floating junk heap? You’re not serious. The analysts at Belgaon-Rewes were convinced the Crescent was on Mygerria. Or, possibly, Chando.”
“No, as far as we could tell, the Kryrk was on Bandala. We actually tried to blow the place up.”
“What?”
“We wanted to keep it out of the hands of the MCP.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“The Mayir are making some sort of move. They came through the Fountain to conquer the Nymorean system.”
I could tell by her expression that Narcissa was trying to make sense
