“You have my full attention.”
“I follow you, and I’m not allowed to speak until spoken to. When you stop, I stop behind you. When you take a seat, I sit at your feet. You’re supposed to indicate to me where you want me. You never let go of my leash in public.” She offered it to him again.
He hesitated but finally took it. A scowl confirmed his immense displeasure.
“I’m to do whatever you say immediately, without hesitation, or slaves are punished. Cia said it could be a strike with a fist or an open palm to the face, shoulders, back, or chest. Some masters are known to kick their slaves to make them fall.”
Anger glinted in his eyes. “I won’t be doing any of that.”
“If I mess up and there’s witnesses, strike me with your open palm on the back of my head. I’ll pretend it hurts way more than it does. This is important, Cavas. Just avoid hitting the back of my neck if possible. This collar isn’t the real deal. You might accidentally open the latch and make it fall off.”
“I will not strike you.” He appeared pissed.
She frowned up at him. “We both have roles to play if we want to pull this off.” She waved her hand, gesturing to the length of him. “Master.” She pointed at herself. “Slave. Cia was clear that masters are all vicious and mean. It will draw attention if you don’t treat me like shit. I’m not saying I want you to hit me. I really don’t. But I can take some slaps if it keeps anyone from arresting us. Got it?”
His mouth tightened and his golden eyes flashed annoyance. “We agree.”
“Good. I won’t take it personally. I promise. Cia also mentioned our master had a box in the arena, set up high. There’s food present or brought to you. Our master liked his feet rubbed.” She shuddered. “All four of them, apparently. There’re trays of oils next to the chairs, and she said he’d bare his feet and indicate what oil he wanted his slave to rub with.”
“I’m not having you massage my feet!”
She sighed. “We have to fit in, right? To act like we belong? From what she shared, that was one of the least horrific things that take place at the arena.”
He sighed. “Do I even want to ask?”
“No. Most of it was degrading sex stuff.”
He snarled before turning, walking toward the doors.
She rushed after him to avoid being choked by the chain. He opened the shuttle doors and the ramp automatically slid to the ground. The planet looked like a barren desert, with only that huge round structure next to the mountain. No other structures were in sight. Heat blasted inside the shuttle with the breeze.
Cavas walked forward, pulling out a small device from a hidden pocket in his pants. She followed. Once they were on the densely packed sand, he paused, pushed a button on the remote, and the ramp drew up, the doors on the shuttle closing and an electric-blue shell appeared to activate around the surface.
“Wow. Is that like a car alarm?”
“I don’t know what a car alarm is. It’s a shield. No one will be able to damage or enter the shuttle. Let’s go. We’ve already drawn attention.”
She hurried after him, which wasn’t easy in her flimsy footwear. The sand was hot but not burning as her feet sank into the loose grains. Two armed guards were stationed in front of the large open doors leading into the tall arena behind them.
“Sir,” one of the stated. “Name?”
“Garligon Press,” Cavas huffed. “I was personally invited by Yorlian Trevis. He asked me to view his little sport. He’s attempting to lure me into moving here.” He grunted. “I’m not impressed so far. Yorl didn’t tell you I was coming?”
“Um, no sir.”
“That’s an unforgivable insult,” Cavas snarled. “Do you know who I am? I am one of the founding fifteen families on Tryleskian. I’m the firstborn of the first litter! I could easily buy a hundred dust planets larger than this one. Yorl should treat me better. I’m superior to him.”
Jill was shocked—and suddenly glad to be standing close behind Cavas to prevent the guards from seeing that her mouth had dropped open. She snapped it closed. Cavas sounded like a mega-asshole, his tone haughty and scornful.
She tucked her chin lower, her gaze locked on the back of Cavas. That was slave protocol.
“Our humble apologies, sir. The communication must have been lost. Transmissions are unreliable this far from the colony.” One of the guards backed up fast. “Allow me to lead you to a luxury box. This evening is a special event. There will be three fights tonight. Our most ferocious fighters will be presented. You were lucky to arrive when you did. Many city transports are due to arrive soon. It’s a much-anticipated evening.”
“Good,” Cavas muttered. “It should be the best you have to offer. My time isn’t to be wasted.”
They were led inside and taken to a lift. It rose high before the doors opened. She followed behind Cavas, glancing to the side of the walkway they traversed. There were seats below for spectators, around the entire circular arena, and she got a good look at the center where the fights took place. The sight shocked her.
The deep pit of sand was expected—but the walls lining that pit were horrifying. They resembled metal, and there were sharp protruding objects covering almost every inch she could see. It would be suicide to attempt to climb out of that pit. The walls had to be at least twenty, maybe twenty-five feet high. There appeared to be razor wire that extended a few feet from the top of the walls. No one would be able to escape.
Cavas turned, and the motion tugged on her throat a little when he began to climb a set of steps. She tore her attention from the arena floor and focused on him. The stairs led to a sizable platform that had a back wall and a small roof to prevent the sun beating down on whoever was inside. A massive stone chair sat alone on the platform. Cushions had been placed along the back and seat.
Cavas stopped. “I was told there would be food,” he grunted. “Did Yorl lie?”
“No, sir. I’ll immediately have it sent.”
“See that you do.”
She inwardly flinched at how rude Cavas was being, but again, he was acting the part of a master. She’d told him herself how they behaved.
The guard hurried away, leaving them alone. Cavas turned to face her, his gaze moving over the arena.
“They’ve created a killing cage, only on a much larger scale.”
She lifted her chin a little to glance surreptitiously at him. His words were spoken softly but the angry look on his face couldn’t be missed. “I saw the walls that keep a fighter from trying to climb out.”
“Those spikes aren’t just to keep the prisoners from escaping. They’re there to cause injury during a fight. A less-than-honorable male could throw his adversary into the walls. The spikes aren’t long enough to be deadly but they’d cause massive blood loss that would severely cripple and give an unfair advantage. This kind of setup is banned on all worlds.”
That news made Jill feel a little sick. “Who’s the guy whose name you said, or did you just make it up?”
“Garligon Press is dead, but no one would know that. He and his entire family fled my home planet many years ago. Garligon would have been about fifteen at the time. They were one of the founding fifteen families. It would be impossible for most Tryleskians to identify them by sight. Their entire family kept to themselves in a remote region on my planet because they felt they were better than everyone else.”
“How do you know he’s dead?”
Cavas met her gaze. “I was part of the team that hunted their family cruiser. They were breaking every law imaginable, even after fleeing Tryleskian. His father refused to surrender, and he attacked our ships instead. We boarded. Garligon had murdered all seven of his slaves, four of his own children born of those slaves, and six military officers before he was taken down. I was the one who killed him.”