Boba let out a sigh of relief. He was safe. For the moment…
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
He rested for only a few minutes.
Now what? He thought. He no longer had his disguise. If he tried to move he’d be spotted and thrown out of the gambling palace. Probably his card would be confiscated, too. Then he’d be on his own, with no money and no way out of the Undercity.
And that was the best that might happen.
The worst was that he’d be killed. Or captured by slavers.
Boba clenched his jaw grimly. That would never happen. He wouldn’t let it happen. A good, bounty hunter never gets caught.
And he was going to be one of the best.
Still, he needed a plan. If he could find the Twi’lek - - if the Twi’lek really was Bib Fortuna - - it might lead him to Jabba the Hutt. If Jabba the Hutt was actually here - and if the gangster would help him get back up to Level Two.
That’s a lot of ifs, thought Boba.
He began to crawl toward the other side of the table. From down here, the Hutts’ gambling palace was a forest of legs. Boba scanned the room for a pair of legs that belonged to a Twi’lek. He didn’t see them - but he saw something else.
On the far side of the room, in a shadowy alcove, a familiar shadowy form stood, arms crossed. The figure was clad in a tight-fitting crimson suit. Its long legs were encased in high brown leather boots. A leather weapons vest covered its chest. Its skin glowed dead-white even in the darkness of the gambling den. A long topknot of brilliant red hair cascaded down its back. Blazing blue eyes scanned the room, missing nothing. Seeing everything.
Aurra Sing.
Boba’s heart raced. He had imagined things couldn’t get worse - but they just had. There was one thing worse than being captured or killed - and that was being captured or killed by the galaxy’s most vengeful bounty hunter. Aurra Sing would show no mercy. She wouldn’t care that he was a kid, or Jango Fett’s son. To her, he was a double-crosser. Someone who’d cheated her out of her share of the fortune - even if the fortune wasn’t rightly hers.
Well, this was no time to stop deceiving her. Boba watched as Aurra continued to scan the room. Abruptly, she spun on her heel and began walking - right toward where he crouched beneath the table.
Boba held his breath and froze. He watched as the supple brown boots strode past him - just inches from his nose. A few feet away they came to a stop. He heard the hiss of the Barabels whispering in their own language. Then he heard Aurra’s low, powerful voice.
“I’m looking for a boy,” she said. “About this tall. Brown hair, brown eyes. Wearing a blue tunic and black boots - though he might be in disguise. I wouldn’t put it past him,” she added grudgingly.
“We’ve seen no one,” a Barabel hissed. “Now leave us, unless you wish to join our - ach!”
Boba edged forward, just enough to peek out. One of Aurra Sing’s powerful hands was wrapped tightly around the Barabel’s throat. Her other hand held a dagger warningly before her.
“I’m not here to waste my time with filth like you,” she spat. “Answer! Have you seen a boy?”
“Yesssss,” hissed the Barabel. His clawed hand gestured wildly. “Minutes ago - right there - “
Boba sucked his breath in sharply. There was no time to lose. He turned and scrambled toward the back of the table. A wall was there - solid wood. Boba felt around on the floor, searching for a weapon - a stick, a brick, anything he might use to defend himself. His hand closed on something cold and hard. A heavy metal ring, bigger than his hand. He pulled at it as hard as he could. It weighed a ton, but he kept pulling, until at last it moved.
To his shock, the floor moved, too. Boba stared down in astonishment.
The ring was bolted to the floor. It was not a ring, but a handle. When he had tugged at it, he had lifted a panel off the floor.
It was a trapdoor.
“You better not be lying.” Aurra Sing’s harsh voice rang across the room from just meters away. “Otherwise I’ll carve new scales on your ugly faces.”
Boba heard footsteps - Aurra’s feet, heading toward the table. He pulled harder at the ring, trying to pry the entire panel up from the floor. The steps grew closer. The wood squeaked and grated as the panel edged up. The sound seemed deafening to Boba. Now the panel was a few centimeters above the floor. He slid his hands beneath, and with all his strength pushed it up, up, until there was a space large enough for him to squeeze through. He shoved his feet in, kicking wildly at open air.
What if there were no floor? What if the trapdoor opened onto - nothing?
“All right, kid - this is it!” Aurra’s gloating voice echoed from the room directly above him.