They walked through the sprawling suburb, past warehouses and spaceship yards, before reaching the main road into the center.
It would take nearly an hour to walk the distance, unpleasant in the heat, and so they took a shunt. The air-conditioning dried the sweat on their bodies as the gilded caterpillar wound its way through gradually narrowing streets toward the heart of Melor. And when they alighted, the buildings huddled closer together, creating much-needed shade, while the scent of spices lay heavy in the sweltering air.
The party of four kept walking, passing a roadside shrine to Jidea. A clay figurine of the Goddess wielding her great hammer towered above a bank of candles. There were plenty of these in every town across this great continent, despite the plethora of temples to the Goddess.
“Jidea be praised,” Malik murmured as he walked by.
Jenna also whispered a prayer to the Goddess of Fortune. So far, their mission was going smoothly, but she hoped Jidea would continue to watch over them.
They kept moving, and Jenna tried to ignore the sweat that now bathed her body. It was so hot that the air shimmered. Eventually, as they reached the most crowded part of the center, they walked under awnings stretched out over the streets.
A group of human children ran shrieking past them, chasinga rock-bounder—the long-tailed leporid bounced past on large, clawed feet, its eyes wild.
Jenna watched the rock-bounder dive for an alleyway, her mouth curving. You didn’t usually see one of those in populated areas.
They walked by market stalls selling spices, expensive cloth, and fresh and dried fruit. Jenna’s gaze slid over the familiar sights. They passed by one of her favorite stalls, which sold musk-melons. The heavily scented fruit bobbed in a barrel of iced water, keeping it cool until the vendor cut the melon into chunks for you to consume immediately.
Jenna might have relaxed even now, might have stopped to buy some melon—if figures clad in gleaming bronze didn’t patrol the streets of Melor. The Mir-Ferrin soldiers were vigilant—their visored gazes scanning their surroundings.
And despite that the center was as busy as ever, Jenna noted the tension in the air, the scowls on many of the faces she passed. After decades of Mir-Brennan rule, the natives of Melor didn’t welcome the Mir-Ferrin occupation.
Jenna pulled at her hood, ensuring her face remained shadowed, even as her lips thinned.
With any luck, the locals would rise up against them.
Their hotel was hard to find—indeed, Jenna would have walked right by if Vic hadn’t stopped. It lay in a nondescript sandstone block, and there was no sign above the door, nothing to suggest it provided lodgings at all.
It was a good choice considering that Mir-Ferrin troops roamed Melor, and no doubt undertook random raids on guest houses and hotels, to ensure no Mir-Brennan soldiers had taken refuge there after the attack.
And, fortunately, the droid that greeted them at the door assured them there were rooms available.
Stepping into a cool, shadowy lounge in their suite, which had three rooms off it, Jenna pushed back her hood and wiped the sweat off her forehead. It was still oppressively warm in here, for the accommodation wasn’t climate controlled. However, it was a relief to exit the searing heat outdoors.
Like her companions, she stripped off her cloak and hung it up behind the door. She then kicked off her heavy boots, wishing she could strip down to her underwear as well.
She wouldn’t though.
A fridge hummed in the corner of the lounge, and she opened it, smiling when she spied a large jug of pori-pori. Turning to her companions, she held the jug of juice up. “Thirsty?”
Both men nodded.
Pouring them all drinks, Jenna took a seat upon one of the long sofas that furnished the lounge and pulled out her tablet. While they’d been in hyperspace, she hadn’t been able to check the news, and there hadn’t been time to connect to the public Sectornet during landing, yet she was anxious to do so now.
Her brother’s trial would be over. His execution would likely be scheduled.
Bringing up the newsfeed, she started to scroll, freezing when the headline she’d been dreading flashed up.
Mir-Brennan clan-lord found guilty of crimes against the Mir-Ferrins.
And despite the stifling heat, goose bumps shivered across her skin. “What day is it?” she asked.
Malik glanced down at his wrist-comm. “Day 84, S.I.T … why?”
Jenna met his eye. “Cathal’s been found guilty. They’ve scheduled a public execution on the covered terrace in front of Mir-Brennan Tower … at 1200, Day 85, Standard Idralian Time.”
Her pulse quickened then, her mouth going dry.Tomorrow … at noon.
“It looks like we’ll be going in at dawn then,” Vic murmured.
