Chapter 17
The cacophony of Lunar Colony Six was unexpected, and Mayra had to work to keep an instant headache at bay. She still felt strange after the rhyming vision from a few moments ago. Not to mention still being weak at the knees after her first and only climax. And at the hands of the universe’s most handsome man, too.
Talk about a life-changing experience.
Maybe it’s the domes, she thought.It catches the sound, traps it, makes it echo down the corridors.
Nojan took her arm, leading her into the busy passageways. “You managed to figure out the colony. Now, do your powers point you in any particular direction?”
Mayra wished she could retreat into his ship and get her bearings. She was out of sorts, unsure of herself, afraid of the crowds teeming around them. Life had been orderly on Vanfia, the only home she’d ever known. And now she was setting foot on a new world full of strangers and mysteries she could only hope to unravel.
Maybe she wasn’t cut out for being an oracle. As a slave, she’d mostly been invisible, when she wasn’t being insulted for her revolting appearance. Now she felt exposed, like every eye was crawling over her. Her ridiculous outfit might have something to do with it. Still, it was the only thing she could manage to hold together.
Nojan slid an arm around her, as if he could sense her disquiet. “I’m here, angel, and I won’t let anyone hurt you. Just focus on the task at hand. We can do this.”
Mayra looked up at him, trying on a small smile. Then she realized he couldn’t see the grin hidden behind the visor, and she felt a measure of relief. The visor would conceal her from the world. It, along with the fierce Vartik warrior at her side, would keep her safe.
Unconsciously, she grasped at the blue charm around her neck. It had always been there for as long as she could remember. She often grabbed the charm in times of distress, the smooth, cool surface helping to calm her.
They were standing near an intersection teeming with people. She turned to the left, peering down that way, then stared at the road leading forward. When she turned to the right, she thought she felt a small pulse in the crystal. It surprised her so much that she nearly let go of the charm.
Wanting to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, a trick of her overactive imagination, Mayra repeated her movements. Once again when she turned to the right, the crystal charm gave out a small pulse.Amazing, she marveled.It’s certainly never done that before.
It had to be a part of her powers being unveiled. “This way,” she said, motioning to the left.
Nojan picked their way through the crowd, sticking so close that no one else could even brush against her. It was sweet, and it helped to settle her nerves. At each new intersection, she would wait for the pulse to guide her. Before long, they found themselves in a crowded marketplace.
With deliberate care, Nojan led her past all manner of stalls. Some were festooned with shirts proclaiming “Just One of the Looneys,” “I Break for Moon Cheese,” and “I’ll Show You My Dark Side of the Moon.” Others hawked equally cheap tourist wares. As they made their way toward the center, the stalls got older, the wares covered in a layer of dust.
“No one seems to be buying this stuff,” Mayra said, confused.
“Not the stuff you can see, at least,” Nojan replied. “The lunar colonies are notorious smugglers’ dens. You’re looking at fronts for the lunar black market.”
Suddenly, the charm began to grow warm in her palm, the pulsing picking up its pace. She swiveled her head, trying to determine the direction it was trying to lead her in. Catching sight of an old tent, she felt a shiver go through her.
“What is it?” the Vartik male asked, picking up on her hesitation. He seemed keenly aware of her reactions, almost as if he could read her thoughts.
“Over there,” she said, jerking her chin in the direction of the tent. “I think what we’re looking for is in there.”
Nojan drew her closer to the tent. “You sure? It doesn’t look like much.”
“I’m sure.” And she was. Even though she’d never seen the tent before, something inside her screamed that this was their intended destination.
Drawing back the curtain that served as the tent’s entrance, Nojan stuck his head in. “Hello?”
“Come in,” a cheery voice called.
The interior was dim and stank of incense. Mayra waved the smell away from her nostrils, trying to clear the air. It was a losing battle unfortunately.
“Have a seat,” the disembodied voice continued. “I will be with you momentarily.”
There was a small, round table in the center of the tent. It was ringed by mismatched pillows. Mayra sat, adjusting the tunic so it wouldn’t ride up her thighs. Nojan joined her on a nearby pillow, a grin quirking up the corners of his lips.
There was a rustle in the curtains across from them and a large rump backed into the room. “I’m sorry for the delay,” the woman said. “I’ve been brewing tea to read the leaves.”
The owner of the voice turned and Mayra felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. It was the old woman from her vision.
“So,” the woman said, bustling over to join them at the table, sitting with a good-natured groan. “What will it be today? Shall I read your palms? Consult the cards? Or would you like to take your chances with the tea leaves? They’re harvested from the only hydro-farm on a Messier object in Ursa Major.”
