Chapter 287

“There is no sand here anymore,” Max stated as he studied the change in the land as they drew closer to Quan Ma. “And dirt… there is dirt and water.”

“Our people believe that Suljin herself came and stripped the sand from this place, crafting the city you shall soon be inside. She then carried the fertile soil you see here from far away and dug water wells and trenches that help everything to grow.”

Max was shocked at how quickly the temperature and environment was changing.

Just like the rock cliffs seemed set in a line that stopped the sand, here was another area with a clear distinction between sand and dark brown soil.

Fruit trees were growing in well-defined orchards nearby, and Max watched as workers moved through the trees, picking fruit and carrying them to a cart.

Shouts came, and Max felt Aimee’s hand on his arm as she shook her head.

“Do not get involved, or we will never make it inside.”

His eyes found what she was talking about, different species tending the trees, yet there was a smaller bear-like being on the ground, a whip cracking against their flesh, held by a creature Max had never seen.

It was about ten feet tall, and even from a few hundred yards away, it wasn’t hard to make out the large protruding horn on its head.

“What is that?”

Scoffing, Aimee shook her head at him.

“You are the different one here. That is one of the many varieties of beastkin. They have thick, natural body armor, skin so thick that it can resist the sandstorms longer than many. While most of them are not bright, they are tasked with keeping others in check.”

She went silent and pushed Max down the black glass road they were walking on.

“We do not want to get involved. They become angry and will not stop until their temper is quenched or they have been knocked unconscious… Neither of which is easy to accomplish.”

Frowning, Max kept his eyes on the group, watching as the one with the whip seemed to ignore others' attempt at calming it down.

Carts moved slowly, pulled by people, and it took great effort to not openly stare at them.

The only perk Max had was that many did the same as he walked next to Aimee.

So many different races of animals walked as he had, and a twinge in his chest came at the thought that he had fought some of them in the tower before.

A dwarf and a goblin drove a mechanical cart that smoked, reminding Max of the tower floor he had fought their kind in.

“Stay here,” Aimee said as she jogged to a group standing near a few carts who were handing out food to workers on a break from some fields with a leafy plant running in rows.

Watching her talk with someone who was about his height, Max couldn’t help but notice all of them staring at him.

“Move it, smooth skin!”

A cart that was coming by from behind him, headed toward the city, barely clipped him as a beastkin that looked like a nine-foot-tall gorilla snarled at him.

Two more of his kind sat behind him near the red fruits that filled the cart. Each had a club and sword on their hips, hands intentionally grabbing the handle.

What really caught Max’s attention were two beastkin who looked like bulls, each with their horns cut off and chained to the cart.

Even though they weren’t like him, the pain of seeing them treated like animals felt weird.

How many times have we used animals to pull carts and yet…

Lost in his thoughts, Max moved back, not flinching as the trio snorted and said something he couldn’t understand, leaving him behind.

“Here,” Aimee said as she ran up, Max already knowing she held a robe in her hands. “I paid more than I wanted, but you need this.”

“How many…” He paused, trying to decide the right word to use. “How many people are there in slavery?”

“Put that on, and then we will talk.”

Nodding, he slid it over his head. It was a little tight, his shoulders obviously wider than whatever had been wearing it and fell short, exposing his boots and shins underneath.

“Don’t keep your head out. Pull the cover, and let’s keep moving. All the field workers are returning for the night, and the road isn’t safe… well, for you it probably is.”

Pulling the hood over his head, Max moved beside her, watching as throngs of workers appeared on the fifty-yard-wide section of changed sand.

Some moved in packs, keeping away from other groups, which started tying ropes to the workers he knew were slaves.

A few had a black collar on their neck, and Max did his best to ignore the plight he witnessed more than a few dozen times as someone suffered physical injury.

“Over half,” Aimee whispered.

“Half? Of what?”

“All the people who live here are slaves. Had you not rescued me…”

She paused and motioned to a section of lizard people off to one side, each wearing a black collar.

“I would be like them.”

Glancing around, Max studied the people in line, and then it hit him.

“None of those who are slaves have any power, do they?”

Teeth appeared as Aimee shook her head, and Max had learned it was her frown.

“No… if you are weak… someone does not hesitate to take you.”

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Sighing, Max understood why Aimee had picked up her pace, moving a little faster as the line of workers moved, all staying to the edge of the road while wagons and carts filled with goods moved next to them.

Next were groups that had no collars, sticking together.

He and Aimee stood out as they walked alone.

“Do we need to join another group?”

She chuckled and shook her head.

“By walking like this we are telling them we’re different. This says we don’t need others to protect us and that we are strong enough to defend ourselves.”

She tapped her neck once.

“If they saw your collar… chaos would erupt, and there would be a lot of fighting, and I have no doubt you would kill so many before guards came.”

“Because I’m marked as a slave?”

Aimee shook her head.

“That collar is different. The color says you are worth much. It also tells people you have been limited from your true power, which if I can say is scary to believe.”

Unable to help himself, Max chuckled, and her eyes widened slightly.

“Should I ask how much stronger you are?”

“Not strong enough to have prevented it from being put on in the first place,” he replied.

***

Guards lined a large black gate that was connected to a wall fifty feet high.

Max had already asked why a wall so tall was needed, and Aimee had responded that it was designed to keep people in as well as out. Some of the races could easily drop twenty or thirty feet without problems, but the added height made that much harder.

They had kept their heads down, shuffling in with the others and avoiding the problems those with carts filled with food suffered. Large braziers with fire burned brightly near the gate, casting light and letting the guards check everything that moved in.

It had surprised Max to see that at least a dozen different types of races were in the ranks of the guards, and the one that had surprised him the most had been the mantis one.

It stood eleven feet tall, with large, curved blades on its arm, and its eyes sparkled in the light, chattering as it inspected everything that came close.

Aimee had taken his arm, dragging him through the gates and into the city.

The first thing that stood out was the smell.

It was obvious this was the section of the city where cleanliness wasn’t important.

Large mounds of trash, rotting and smelling, filled a street they passed, and groups of children dug through the, refuse even at this time of night.

Fights were taking place, and people shouted, as they seemed to be betting on who would win.

Enclosed flames in metal boxes provided some light along the main road they were following, but Max could see and sense down the side streets how dangerous they must be.

Groups of thugs stood on corners, eyeing people, and Max and Aimee moved closer to some of the other groups, like a current, moving away from a stone.

“Over there is where the slaves go,” Aimee had said after they passed the first street that led to a wide section of long buildings all crafted from the same black glass. Long lines trudged into the darkness of the streets, a feeling of oppression and despair coming from it.

Even with it being nighttime, the two-plus hours it took to reach the next gate was never a dull moment.

Vendors called out their wares, offering food for those who had just returned from the fields.

Aimee had shaken her head no and informed Max that her mother had told her those choices were smaller, more expensive, and not always the safest, taking advantage of those who were starving after working all day.

At the second gate, Max saw that the guards here were much more involved and better organized.

Their weapons looked well maintained, and even their leather armor had the appearance of being cleaned regularly.

Four groups stood at the gate, each inspecting or talking to everyone who entered, ensuring that no one got inside without at least talking with a guard.

That led to their first problem.

“I’m not going to say this again, lower your hood.”

Max didn’t move, letting Aimee handle the situation as she told him to.

He could see her chest was out, not backing down from the pair of guards who towered over her by a few feet.

“You do realize my master would prefer to not draw attention and that doing so would not be good for any of us,” she replied. “Perhaps when we finally gain an audience with Igarra, we could explain how many or how few problems we experienced.”

Max could sense the two guards shifting at the mention of the ruler of this city.

Another presence came, and Max wondered for a moment if every gate had their own praying mantis.

Chittering noise came as it spoke, and then Max sensed as it bent toward him.

“Do you dare not lift your hood, and shall you allow this one to risk punishment for you both at the mention of the First of her Claw’s name?”

Sighing, Max knew the moment was coming, and he reached up for his hood, his hand appearing as he did.

“Wait!”

The hiss came from the mantis, who started clattering and chittering something.

One of these days I’m going to figure out how to understand all of these creatures…

“Forgive us,” the guard who was a tiger said as Max felt them bend slightly. “You may enter.”

Snorting, Aimee played her role, motioning ahead for Max to come.

“Thank you for realizing the mistake you were about to make!”

Following Aimee, Max felt so many people were looking at them, and as they left couldn’t understand the discussion that sent one of the guards running to a building outside the gate.

As they walked under the walls, Max moved closer to his companion.

“What changed?”

“Your hand,” she whispered. “The moment their commander saw your hand, he knew you were not like us.”

“And is there no ring that will allow me to understand all that is said and not just in the one or two languages you all speak?”

Snorting, Aimee shook her head.

“There are… those rings are not cheap, and we are far from them for now. I keep forgetting that you can only understand the two languages. While I can speak four, I can at least understand about fourteen or fifteen more.”

“Nineteen languages,” Max muttered as they moved into the second ring of the city. “How many are there?”

“Over fifty,” she replied, gently grabbing his arm with her hand. “Now follow me. I have somewhere to find.”

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