Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
It's a sobering reminder that whatever we have, it doesn't leave this planet. "I didn't come here just to berate you about the plant—although you truly should be more careful. I'm inquiring about my trunks."
Kazex blinks politely, as if he misunderstood the question. "What trunks?"
Deep breaths, Zhur. Even, calm breaths. He's probably deliberately being obtuse. I steel myself and then explain. "When I left my home, I had with me some thirty-odd trunks filled with clothing and jewelry and credits. They did not arrive with me on this planet, thus I am hunting them down."
His brows go up. "You had credits in your luggage?"
I shrug. "Unmarked credits, yes. Is that a problem?"
"Not for an enterprising thief it's not." He grimaces. "When your pod was handed off to me, I wasn't aware of additional cargo. Who was it you left your planet with?"
"Zebah," I say. "The bounty hunter you work with."
He snaps his fingers and points at me. "Aha. See, that's your problem."
"What? What is my problem?"
"Zebah," Kazex says as if that explains everything. "Were your trunks booby-trapped? Locked with pass-codes? Rigged to explode with dye if the wrong person opened them?"
My mind goes blank at his questions. Exploding dye? Pass-codes? Booby traps? "They were designer traveling trunks."
"Is that a no?"
"It's a no," I say thinly. "Let me guess. Zebah?"
Kazex nods again. "She'll lift anything that isn't tied down, and that's when she's among friends. If you left thirty trunks in her care and stuffed them full of expensive goods, I imagine you just paid for her latest round of ship repairs. Your stuff is probably sold and the contents spread across ten different space stations at this point."
A vein in my forehead throbs hard enough to hurt. My ears feel so flat that they're practically touching my neck. "I see."
"In the future, when working with Zebah, remember that she has sticky fingers and no morals. I wouldn't leave anything with her."
'In the future,' he says. As if me escaping Praxii Minor in the dead of night is an occurrence I wish to replicate. "So you're telling me that I am penniless."
He winces and rubs the back of his neck. "I'm sure we can locate Zebah eventually and ask her questions. She might even pay you back a little bit. But in general if it's not tied down or in your hand when you've arrived, it's best to consider it lost."
I ponder this, my tail swishing back and forth. My luggage and emergency funds, lost. Just like my throne. I should be more upset. Furious. Instead, I am annoyed but not surprised. Zebah must be good at keeping secrets if she's a thief and yet still came highly recommended. That Kazex trusts her either speaks well of her or poorly of him. Or both. At this point I'm willing to believe that it's both. "Mmm."
"If you need assistance with something, I'm happy to help out," he says cheerfully. "Any friend of Maeve and Simone is a friend of our crew. We look out for each other." He pauses and then adds, "But maybe don't ask for another plant."
A laugh huffs out of me despite myself. "No plants." I rub my chin. "But I might need a ride off this planet. I can pay, but it will likely be delayed."
I don't point out that what I'm thinking of is not just a ride, but a gamble. That if I lose, I'm not going to be able to pay up because I'll be sliced into a thousand pieces by my brother's imperial torturers. But Kazex doesn't need to know that.
"You're leaving?" Kazex straightens and flicks a glance inside the cantina, his expression no longer as friendly. "Does Maeve know?"
"Maeve will be aware if this goes forward, I promise. I might need a ride off this planet to a neutral location, likely a space station. A highly trafficked one." I'm still working out the details of the plan in my head, and I continue to rub my chin as the pieces form into a picture in my brain. "Someplace public for a meeting."
"You'd have to talk to my boss, because the crew of the Scarlet Gaze doesn't work for free. Wanna tell me what this is about?"
No. "It's a parlay."
Because if I'm going to meet with my remaining brother, I need to make sure I'm far from home, and that Maeve is safe. No matter how good or bad a parlay goes, I want to make sure she's protected. That means leaving Risda and leaving hiding.
It means putting all of my gaming sticks in a pile, so to speak, and risking everything. I'll either emerge with everything I want, or end up as a pelt on my brother's wall.
All I know is that I don't think I can hide forever. No matter what happens, Maeve deserves better than a life of looking over her shoulder, waiting for my brother's assassins to find us. She deserves a relaxing, peaceful life.