“You might as well have saved yourself the trouble, Scourge,” he said, passing the outfit to Vlanka who folded it neatly. “In return for the clothing, your little pet gave me these.” He held out the three food cubes he’d plucked from Lauren’s palm.
Xairn’s face was suddenly as impassive as stone but his deep voice sounded strangled when he talked. “That’s all? She gave you nothing more?”
“That’s all.” Blix was practically beaming by now. “Just three little food cubes, my friend. In exchange for clothing made from the finest Belarian silk and satin. Not to mention a tok made of one unbroken piece of skin from a rare crimson-hide gelk. Very expensive, I’m afraid, and all sales are final.”
A what? Lauren looked at the neatly folded tok in Vlanka’s orange hands. Was it really made out of some creature’s skin? It certainly hadn’t felt like any kind of leather. But from the look on Xairn’s face, she had worse things to worry about than what kind of weird alien skin she’d been wearing.
“Xairn?” she asked anxiously, tugging at his arm. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”
“You’ve sold yourself.” His voice was hoarse and his grip on her arm tightened until Lauren let out a squeak of pain. “Sold yourself into the skin trade.”
Panic gripped her by the throat. “What? What are you talking about? I swear I didn’t mean any harm. I only gave him the cubes with worms in them. I didn’t think—”
“Worms?” Xairn’s eyes widened suddenly. “Grieza worms?”
Lauren shrugged uneasily. “I don’t know what kind they are. They’re pale orange and about this long…” She held out her hands to measure. “And they come with a side dish of some weird blue-green sauce.”
“So.” Xairn turned back to Blix who was looking much less happy and smug now. “You traded your ‘very expensive’ clothes to Lauren for three helpings of Grieza worms. Which are, as you know, a rare and costly delicacy all the way from Twin Moons.”
“Not rare or costly enough,” Blix protested. “Not to pay for the fine garments I gave your pet.”
“The clothing you gave Lauren was the equivalence of slavery and death,” Xairn growled. “And you damn well know it, Spider. Do you want me to call the Judge of the Market to settle the claim?” He nodded at the purple tree being which Lauren had first seen striding up and down the center of the street. As though sensing trouble, it had stopped what it was doing and was staring fixedly at the scene playing out in front of Blix’s dusty stall. “Or will you acknowledge that what Lauren gave you was of equal value to the fucking clothes?” Xairn finished.
Blix looked sulky. “No. I’ll acknowledge.” His purple eyes flashed. “But be warned, Scourge—I’m not the only one who desires a piece of your little pet. An exotic like that will draw all kinds of interested parties. You’ll have to guard her with your life if you want to get her out of O’ah intact.”
Xairn’s eyes blazed and his voice dropped to a menacing growl. “I’d die before I’d let you take so much as a single hair from her head, you sick bastard!”
“And you may. If you don’t watch out.” With that, Blix disappeared abruptly, taking Vlanka, the clothes, and the booth he’d been sitting in when Lauren first walked up, with him. There was nothing left but a dusty, bare spot on the stone pavement.
“Xairn, I—” Lauren began…but then she stopped. There was a lot she still didn’t understand but by the look on his face, now wasn’t the time to ask.
“Come on.” Xairn pulled her roughly down the street, steering her back into the alley where the Kindred ship was parked.
“Hey! You’re hurting me!” Lauren protested when he opened the door and shoved her inside.
“You’d have been hurting a lot worse if I’d been even a parsec later getting to you,” Xairn growled, but he let her go at once.
“I don’t understand.” Lauren put her hand on her hips and glared at him. “Will you please explain what just happened out there?”
A muscle in Xairn’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. “What just happened was that you were about to become a splice whore for the Spider.”
“A spice whore? What the hell is that?” Lauren demanded.
“A prostitute who offers her body to prospective clients. They try you out and if they like you, they can pay an extra fee to take part of your body to a lab and clone you.”
“Part…part of my body?” Lauren could hardly believe it. Suddenly she flashed back to Vlanka’s orange, seven fingered hands. Some of her fingers had ended in sharp purple nails but some had ended in…In stumps. Oh my God! “You…you mean like fingers?” she asked in a trembling voice.