Rescued by the Alien Warrior by Hope Hart (motivational books for students .txt) 📕

each side of a cobbled street. Mishua are either ridden by Braxians or attached to carts, some of which are stopping in front of houses to make deliveries.

We travel beneath bridges, which connect one side of the town to the other. Eventually, the houses become more and more sparse and are replaced by trees. We must go downriver for at least half an hour before we stop at another dock, this one much smaller than the one at the castle.

We’re in the middle of nowhere.

Vivian doesn’t look concerned, although she’s got that blank expression on her face that tells me she’s worried but attempting to hide it. Arix helps her from the hydro, and we all file onto the dock.

“Where are we?” Sarissa asks.

Arix smiles. “You will soon see.”

Sarissa frowns, likely about to demand more information, but he’s already turning away, offering Vivian his arm. Sarissa glances over her shoulder at me.

“I really hate this,” she mutters, and I nod.

“Same. But this is Arix’s little party. We’re just the entertainment.”

She scowls at that, but we trail after the king, who doesn’t look at all concerned by our hesitation. Tagiz is no longer even pretending to be okay with this, and his sword is now in his hand, which explains why Arix’s guards are huddling even closer around us, their hands hovering over their own swords.

I blow out a breath, my senses heightened. I’m keeping my eyes on the king as we walk along a cobbled path leading into a thicket of trees. The trees tower over us, their thick limbs a dense canopy that only allows occasional glimpses at the sky.

Sarissa sidles closer to me, her eyes hard. “What do you think is going on?” she murmurs.

“I have no idea. Arix seems to enjoy the mystery of it all.”

We must walk for another ten minutes. The musty scent of moss is heavy in the air, and it’s eerily quiet. It’s as if even the animals who make this part of the forest their home are wary of the Braxian king, who strolls through their territory with a look of cool amusement on his face.

The trees begin to thin, and we all freeze.

“What is this?” Vivian asks.

Arix glances at her before returning his attention to the bustling market that stretches in front of us.

“This,” he says, “is the marketplace.”

He says “marketplace” as if it should be capitalized.

“The marketplace?” I ask, and he nods.

“While Agron may not be as developed as many other planets in this galaxy, we are not without our contacts. There are a few vendors brave enough to take the journey here, bringing goods and services for trade.”

The trees are much sparser now, surrounding the large clearing, which helps keep it hidden from prying eyes. I never could’ve imagined this place was here, and once again I find myself almost overwhelmed by how little I know about this planet.

On Earth, I knew that there were 197 countries. Here, I don’t even know how many continents there are. It’s both exciting and intimidating to know so little about a place where I’m likely to live for at least the short term.

There must be a hundred kradis set up in the space. Although, unlike the kradis back at our camp, these are three-sided, allowing vendors to protect their goods from the weather while negotiating with buyers.

A few weeks ago, Nevada told me about the market she visited with Rakiz when she was looking for me and Ivy. Her eyes sparkled as she described all the different types of aliens she saw, and she grinned as she told me all about the people who were trading with each other.

Now I can see why. There are people of all colors of the rainbow here, from purple to blue, green to yellow. Some have more than two arms; others have scales and fur. It’s difficult not to stare.

Arix steps forward, and the entire market goes so quiet; I can hear a branch as it falls from a tree behind us. He waves his hand, his expression sardonic.

“Carry on,” he says, and everyone gets back to business, haggling over food, jewelry, and weapons.

We must look like curious schoolchildren as we follow Arix through the stalls. People stare at the king, but for the most part, they ignore us. Arix seems to have a destination in mind, and he eventually stops at a kradi manned by two Braxian women.

One of them bows her head. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

Arix turns to Vivian, who holds up the broken part, and the woman stretches out her hand to take it from her, her gray eyes curious.

“This is from an S23 thruster,” she murmurs. “How did you get this?”

Arix raises one eyebrow at the woman, and she decides she doesn’t need to ask any further questions.

“We can fix it, but these parts are so fragile that you risk another crack. If it cracks in flight, it can lead to a system overload, so I wouldn’t risk it.”

I stare at her, entranced by the way she talks about a spaceship as if discussing the weather.

“Do you have something we can use as a replacement part?” I ask.

The woman shakes her head, and my heart sinks, but her friend steps forward.

“We can order one in, but the shipment won’t be arriving for weeks.”

“The shipment?” Vivian asks, and Arix smiles down at her.

“Many of these vendors travel from trading posts on hub planets. Agron may be uncivilized compared to most, but our jewels and other goods are still in demand, mostly due to their rarity.”

Vivian chews on her lip and glances at me.

I clear my throat. “How much will it cost?”

“Our contact prefers to negotiate in person,” the woman says.

I nod. “Do you know when your contact will return so we’ll know when we need to be back here?”

She shakes her head. “He has no true schedule. It depends on how his trading is going on other planets and if one of his buyers requests something only found on Agron.”

Arix nods and takes Vivian’s