“Your ancestors were,” Ero replied.
The accent was strange, but Mind had no difficulty understanding the conversation. He struggled to discard his sense of unease. He’d spent five thousand years on Lumineia thinking it was the entirety of existence. Stepping on Kelindor’s moon had made him feel small. Now he felt like a gnat.
Ero stepped into the space vacated by the seller, and the two krey behind the counter perked up, their eyes on Tardoq. The krey released a sound of appreciation and reached for the hovering sphere.
“And who might this be?” he asked.
“A Bloodwall,” his companion said, her eyes flicking to the prominent four scars on Tardoq’s horns. “And what a specimen. What house?”
Tardoq jerked his head. “I’m not here to fight. He is.”
He pointed to Mind, who folded his arms and tried not to look annoyed. Both krey were disappointed, and the male exited the desk and came around to examine him. It allowed Mind to get a good look at the oddsmaker.
The krey was about Mind’s height, but his skin was a dark grey, several shades darker than Ero’s own flesh. His eyes were a bright green. He was obviously not a soldier, because Mind was able to sift through his memories as he poked and prodded Mind’s body.
His name was Ursun, and he came from the house of Eter’Quen. It explained his green eyes. Apparently every house in the Empire had different eyes. Wylyn and her son had color changing eyes, the colors shifting according to their mood. House Eter’Quen had green eyes. When children were born to parents of different houses, they belonged to the house matching their eyes.
Ursun was six thousand years old, young by krey standards, and just working on Dedliss at the crucible because his family owed gambling debts to House Torn’Ent. He hated the female he worked with, who was a higher rank daughter of House Thorn’Vall, a krey woman named Rasina.
Rasina fiddled with her clothing and kept glancing at Tardoq, attempting to draw his gaze. Mind couldn’t pick her history as easily, but there was enough for him to realize she disliked her position at the Oddsmaker sphere, a position she’d been given after her own debts had come to light. Apparently gambling was rampant in House Thorn’Vall, and her mother disapproved of her foolish wagers.
“He’ll have to fight a dakorian,” Ursun said. “Rank fourteen, criminal they call Basher. I can’t get you a lower ranked foe until next week. We’ve had a flood of slave fighters in the last few days, most from Wylyn’s house.”
Mind guessed that without Wylyn, the house had begun to sell off their slaves, looking to make glint before her return. They didn’t know she was already dead and her house would eventually disintegrate.
“That is acceptable,” Ero said.
“Your funeral,” Rasina said with a snort.
Ursun shrugged. “If he lasts ten minutes, you’ll win the standard thousand glints. If he dies, you get nothing.”
“I’ll place a wager that he wins,” Ero said.
Ursun actually laughed. “How much do you want to lose?”
“A million glint.”
That got their attention, and both stared at Ero, slack-jawed. Ursun recovered first and fumbled to update the information on the sphere, the lettering changing to reflect the wager. Mind picked their shock from their thoughts. Both thought Ero stupid. If victorious, Ero would win a hundred times that amount. Failure would probably result in Ero being tossed into his own duel.
“You understand the risks?” Ursun asked.
“I do,” Ero said, “and I accept them.”
“This ought to be good,” Ursun said.
Ero reached up and touched the floating sphere. It flickered green and Ursun turned the sphere, rotating the entire chamber so an empty cell lined up with the walkway. He pointed to it as the grate lifted, and Ero guided Mind down the walkway.
“Is a million a lot?” Mind asked.
“It is everything the Eternals possess,” he replied.
“You bet your entire organization that I would win?”
“I did,” Ero said, and offered a faint smile as Mind entered the chamber. “We’re both invested in this victory.”
Tardoq stood at Ero’s side as the grate lowered. “Don’t forget, dakorians have two hearts.” He pointed to a spot on his chest and then stomach. You’ll have to puncture both of them. Or the throat.”
“I know what to do,” Mind replied. And hoped that he did.
Chapter 9: Duel
After the grate shut, the spherical chamber rotated up and around. Mind instinctively reached for the wall, but his feet remained on the floor. His stomach heaved as the world turned sideways, but gravity remained rooted in the same direction. He chuckled at his own nervousness and felt the threads of gravity emanating from a machine at the side of the cell.
The sphere locked into the place, and through the grate he spotted Ursun and Rasina watching another floating orb, this one located at the back of their desk. It depicted a small arena high above the earth. The interconnected walkways were narrow, with ramps and steps circling and winding back on itself. A place of dueling.
A large sphere rose to the platform and attached to the side, and a section of the wall opened. A dakorian stepped out and hefted a hammer. Modified to include spikes, the weapon was as ugly as the dakorian, which had numerous scars twisting his flesh.
Another sphere appeared, rising and attaching to the opposite side of the dueling arena. A section opened—and the back of Mind’s cell lifted as well. Mind had thought the chamber underground, and now realized it floated in the air. He cautiously stepped into the open and surveyed the dueling area.
Several paths extended away from him, some switching up and over, others turning to steps and descending under. A handful of walls bordered the walkways, but most of them came to his knees. Mind stepped to an edge and leaned over, but the ground was thousands of feet below. Clouds drifted beneath them, and the sun was just beginning its descent.
He returned to the doorway of his cell and looked across the space, to the dakorian called Basher. The dakorian bared his broken teeth in a snarl and pointed his hammer at Mind, obviously anticipating a quick victory. Then a countdown appeared on the small tower at the center of the arena, the numbers depicting a countdown. Small hovering spheres floated around walkways. Mind assumed they would pick up the image and send it so others could see. Then Basher began to advance.
“A slave?” he sniffed in disgust. “I expected better.”
