Rogue Read Online Free Page A

some of my nicer shoes—they were an iridescent turquoise and had the virtue of matching my dress—since I thought it was possible that I'd be meeting the Queen. Now I wished I'd worn slippers instead, because the way my footsteps were echoing off the walls, I sounded like a herd of el-ephants strolling through the corridor. Wazak, on the other hand, was barefoot and the soles of his feet made a soft slapping sound as he walked. I figured he must have had calluses about an inch thick on the bottoms of those feet—walking across a bed of hot coals would have been no trouble for him at all. That was one way to keep the slaves from running off; just keep them barefoot and they wouldn't step a meter beyond the palace walls.
    I was glad Wazak had mentioned refreshment, because I was getting pretty hungry by then, on top of being thirstier than I'd ever been in my life. I had no idea if it was dinnertime or lunchtime or what, but if this was how hot it was in the early morning, I would be remaining inside the palace for the entirety of my stay.
    As if he'd known what I was thinking, Wazak an-nounced: "It is time for the evening meal. You will be dining with the Queen."
    "What?" I squeaked. "Right now? Don't I have to change clothes or pass through a weapons sensor or anything?" Perhaps I needed to be vaccinated against something, too. Or I might need to be decontaminated.
    After all, I might be carrying a germ that would wipe out the entire population. They didn't know.
    Wazak stopped and turned to face me. "Do you have a weapon?"
    "Well, no," I admitted, "but I thought you'd want to be sure..." My voice trailed off as I looked up at him. He certainly was imposing! Asking Wazak questions while sitting opposite him in an open vehicle was one thing, standing toe-to-toe with him was quite another. No one in their right mind would have followed him into the palace carrying so much as a pen knife.
    Wazak didn't reply, but if he'd had eyebrows, one of them would surely have risen before he turned and started off down the hall again. I hoped the natives weren't all as unfriendly as he was, though I thought if I spent more time with him, he might warm up a little. It was possible he was trying to intimidate me on purpose, just to make sure I didn't cause any trouble in the future.
    Imagine that! Me, a troublemaker!
    "Will the Princess be having dinner with us, as well?"
    I asked, trotting to catch up with him. "I—I'd like to meet her."
    "Perhaps," was Wazak's noncommittal response.
    I closed my lips firmly. Oh, just shut up and follow him, Kyra! Keep quiet and stay out of trouble! Which shouldn't have been difficult for me, since I'd never been in any kind of trouble in my life. My record was clean— no felonies, no misdemeanors, no minor infractions of the rules. I'd never even gotten a parking ticket.
    I tried to focus on where we were going and where I had been. After the open portico, we were now passing through a maze of corridors, which all looked alike.
    This was probably another way of keeping the slaves safely inside, because even if they did get loose, they'd never be able to find their way out. Maybe there was a code in the carvings on the walls. Hell, there could have been numbers and signs plastered all over them, and I wouldn't have known what they meant! If I was ever left on my own, getting lost was a certainty.
    "Should have listened to my mother," I muttered to myself. I wished I had Nindala with me for moral support. We would have been whispering behind Wazak's back, making fun of his tail or something, which would have eased the tension.
    I tried to imagine what Nindala would have to say about Wazak and nearly bit my lip trying not to laugh out loud. I could almost her musing, "Do you think his penis is as ugly as his face?" I couldn't have said at that point, for, despite his lack of so much as a loincloth to cover the area where one might normally expect to find a penis, there didn't appear to be one. I decided