[Location: Central] Part the Third: Out and About (open)
Many things about Taxon disturb Nazca. The single moon. The lack of Falslight. The Extras. Mind control. The lack of a proper economy (though this last is a problem she's been working on a plan for). Being cut off from her network of family, pezon, and employees.
On the other hand, no Gray King. No father putting her under house arrest. No yellowjackets needing bribery.
The upshot of which is that she can wander the city unmolested. It's an empty cage, true, but a larger one, at least. And she has little doubt that eventually the prisoners will discover a way out. There are too many discontent and clever people here for it to be otherwise. It's a matter of time and organization. She suspects the people who disappear may be the ones getting too close to the truth.
She wishes for Locke and his gang, or her father, or even her brothers. What she couldn't do with a bit more reliable help.
Still. She can stand in the central square with no fear of catching a crossbow bolt to the throat. And that is something to be said for the place. Prior to Taxon, she hadn't been off the Grave in the daytime in months. She stands on a streetcorner, drinking in the day.
Nazca wouldn't say she was happy. But she was attempting to take what pleasure she could find in a less than ideal situation.
On the other hand, no Gray King. No father putting her under house arrest. No yellowjackets needing bribery.
The upshot of which is that she can wander the city unmolested. It's an empty cage, true, but a larger one, at least. And she has little doubt that eventually the prisoners will discover a way out. There are too many discontent and clever people here for it to be otherwise. It's a matter of time and organization. She suspects the people who disappear may be the ones getting too close to the truth.
She wishes for Locke and his gang, or her father, or even her brothers. What she couldn't do with a bit more reliable help.
Still. She can stand in the central square with no fear of catching a crossbow bolt to the throat. And that is something to be said for the place. Prior to Taxon, she hadn't been off the Grave in the daytime in months. She stands on a streetcorner, drinking in the day.
Nazca wouldn't say she was happy. But she was attempting to take what pleasure she could find in a less than ideal situation.