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)
"Yes. That's what I do." She doesn't even pause to think about it. "I'm a people person, Zhur. You're lucky I am, too, because most people would have tossed you out on your ear already."
She's not intimidated by my surly demeanor, which I have to admit pleases me. Back home, if I was in a mood, the staff would tiptoe around me, flinching every time I spoke. I would much rather have someone like Maeve, who ignores my sourness or better yet, challenges it. "I just want to go home and rest."
"Yes, well, that's where we're heading." Maeve pulls a slip of plas out of the front of her clothes. "And I got the names of the other praxiians on this planet. Didn't have to spend a dime, either. Just got them through good old-fashioned conversation."
The human shoots me a triumphant look and I grunt an acknowledgment, unfolding the plas. There are scribbles all over it, some of them smeared, but nothing I can read. I turn the plas upside down, seeing if that makes it any more legible. "How am I supposed to read this?"
"Oh, right. That's cursive and you probably can't even read English, can you?" She chuckles to herself and then snatches the plas back from me. "Here, I'll read it."
I eye the sky in front of us as she holds the scrap out, paying attention to it and not where she's piloting the sled. "Should you not watch the sky?"
"It's fine, no one's around. This first name is Jaru? But more growly. And he has a brother, Haroooseck." She squints at her writing. "At least, I think that's right."
"They do not sound like praxiian names."
"Yes, well, Skritch can't exactly roll his Rs and I'm sure I'm not pronouncing them correctly. He says they're brothers that were dockworkers and recently mated human females. Orange fur."
I grunt. "I would not know them if they were dockworkers."
"I figured."
She goes down her list, mangling each name as she does, and I wince at her accent. None of them sound like anyone I would know, which of course is to be expected. There is one praxiian name that might be that of a known criminal that disappeared a few years back, but it is also a common name on the outer satellites. It doesn't matter. Even if it is the infamous Sevarrru, what am I going to do about it? Nothing. The bounty on his head would be less than mine.
"Then there were a few guys that are spices? Do you know what a spice is? He acted like it was something I would know."
"Splice. Not interested." This planet truly does have dregs on it if it has splices.
"Oh, okay." Maeve glances further down her list. "The was one guy that was a celebrity. I wrote down Nasdaq but that can't be right."
"Nas-dak?" I ask, befuddled.
"Yeah, something about how everyone would know him by his name. Older guy? Sorta a well-known secret around here or something. Lord va'Rin is a fan or something."
Nas-dak, Nas-dak. I tumble the name in my mouth, thinking. Then it hits me like a bolt of lightning. Surely... "Not Nassakth? The Scourge of Askorthi Prime?"
"Maybe that's it. Why, do you know him?"
I gasp. "Nassakth is here? On this backwater world?"
"I...guess?" She glances over at me. "So you do know him?"
"I know of him. Every male knows of Nassakth, the greatest gladiator of our time." I grab the armrest in the sled, needing to brace myself. "You're certain that was the name he gave you? Nassakth? Gray mane? Regal bearing? Big shoulders? Moves like a predator?"
"Uh, I didn't ask. Does it matter?"
"Yes, it matters! We have to find out where he lives! I want to meet him!" I laugh with delight, grabbing her shoulder. "This is the first good news I have heard since coming here. Maeve, you will not believe how big of a fan I am of his. I have seen all his battles! I have followed his career! I even tried to buy him from his master even though it was considered bad form for the ruling house to have a gladiator—"
"Ruling house?" she asks, turning towards me. "Ruling house of what?"
Uh oh. How do I fix this? In my excitement, I have babbled too much. "Um...nothing?"
CHAPTER
FORTY-EIGHT
MAEVE
It's official—Zhur is a Nassakth fanboy. He hasn't stopped raving about the guy since we got home and unloaded the sled.
"We're going to have to find him, Maeve," he tells me excitedly. "To think that he could be here. Breathing this air. Walking on this soil. You have no idea how much this means to me."
"Great. Cool. Glad you're excited."
As he launches into another description of one of Nassakth's "fantastic bouts" and makes gestures with his hands to indicate when people are being grabbed and/or beheaded, I tune out. I'm not much of a fighter and hearing about a fight second-hand is kind of boring. I'm more focused on what he let slip today.