We finally leave the store and start walking down the street again. But only 30 metres later I notice us walking through a huge shadow. The Mage Spire rises straight up from the west of us, the evening sun lights the incredible structure in silhouette.
I've heard about the Mage Spires before, they are what Grabosh is famous for besides its trading and giant size. But in person, the spires are truly breathtaking. The black glassy tower is only about 40 metres wide at the base, where it touches the ground it looks like the bottom of a huge tree, with organic ridges and folds that suggest it divides into roots beneath the surface. The spire then tapers off quickly to a 20 metre diameter for most of its height.
What's incredible about the spire though is how tall it is. It stretches so far up that from where we are I have to strain my neck to try and see the top, it goes so high and is so narrow it's almost hard to see it through the atmosphere. It's easier to see the tip of the spire's twin, which is visible from here poking above the horizon as a thin dark line. It looks like a string was dangled down from the Earth and took root.
Which according to grandmother is not that far from the truth. According to her the spires used to stretch all the way into space. Giant machines would then climb the spires and carry starships up from the ground. But I don't believe that, starships were meant to be able to fly, so why would they need to be carried? Grandma is full of shit sometimes.
Grabosh sits in the centre of the Crater Sea. And the Crater Sea is centred on the Martian equator, and the Mage Spires are built on either side of Grabosh. This means the spires stand along the equator too.
Apparently there was once dozens of them. Stretching up hundreds of kilometres into space, they all stood tall in a ring around Mars. Although they've all mostly crumbled away. Grabosh's spires are meant to be the tallest ones left standing, the one next to me is apparently only 5km tall, and the one east of here is only 15km. If you stand under them I've heard you'll sometimes see tiny black flakes rain down around you, from where the spires are slowly disintegrating from the top down.
Oblivious to my reverence Gordon escorts me out of the shadow, and goes back to talking as if we never went into the store. Or as if we hadn't walked in the shadow of one of the world's wanders.
Gordon eventually made a group with other traders who used similar techniques as him. They began leaving coded messages for each other in specific ports, if one of them gave another a good tip, they'd be paid a commission.
15 years ago he had begun training the next generation, apparently the navigator who got me onboard the Tax-Me-Not was one of his students. It was also this navigator, who with Gordon's instructions had rostered all of Gordon's rowing shifts on benches within talking distance of me.
Because Gordon had one day come to a realization. He and his group were in a good position to make an incredibly high-risk investment. He realized, that they might be able to take on the Merchant Navy.
He proudly boasted to me that 1 in 32 ships in the Crater Sea had a member of his group on board and that at this rate he could have one of his on every ship within 50 years.
Gordon is 76, and islanders are not blessed with particularly long lives. If he wanted any chance for his group to beat the Merchant Navy then he would need a successor.
Despite all the time he spent training the youngsters, in his words they all ended up too coddled. They needed an independent spark that he didn't know how to give them. And so, when he saw a white-hot young thing, obviously buying her way onto his ship to keep her life or freedom, he decided to make another gamble and asked the navigator to keep us close.
At this point in his story, I'll admit my heart was beating quite fast. Was I like the economic chosen one? Born to this world to out wit the obviously shady Merchant Navy?
My breath caught on his next words...
"If I can't raise a successor I'll let someone else do it."
It took me a second for his words to sink in. "I need a son. Many really. As many as I can make in time. I might not be around to raise them all to adulthood but I have a good feeling I can count on you."
The disappointment I feel is hard to put into words.
He wants to knock me up then die.
Noticing my disappointment he began to try to reassure me. "Of course, I'll leave you with more bronze than you'll know what do with, plus a room or two at my villa of course."
I think I'd missed in his bragging while I was zoning out, that he fully owned the villa we stayed in last night, and that all the women I'd met last night were his tenants.
He is way too fucking skeevy.
Yup, I don't want to leave my home to escape one creepy old man just to get knocked up by another. I'm getting the fuck out of here, who cares if it's a bit rude, so is trying to convince a girl you've barely met to carry your child.
Honestly, I doubt he picked me because of some spark or whatever. He probably just saw a silver-haired goblin with big tits in a desperate situation, and felt like going a few rounds with her. Wait, what about the group of exotic women at his Villa? Is he just a damn collector?
I'm about to turn around and try to fade into the crowd when I feel a huge hand on my lower back, pushing me through the crowd toward an odd building.
Fuck I'm easily derailed when I'm sleep deprived. I think I just missed my best chance to escape.
The sun is setting soon, I think it must have been past noon when I woke and had breakfast, but has he really escorted me around the whole day?
It was honestly pretty interesting, if not for the whole 'birth me a worthy heir" shit I'd probably at least give him a kiss on the cheek for his help.
Or at least I would if he hadn't kept pushing me past my comfort zone.
So, where have I followed Gordon to this time and how do I leave? The building is of a design I haven't seen before, there's a queue outside and people eating inside.
Ok, fancy restaurant I guess. Gordon's pushing me along as he skips the line and directly speaks to the greeter, who seems to bend over backwards to please my forceful escort. The greeter leads us into the building.
Ok, so much for disappearing into the crowd, it's still fine though I'll just cause a little scene and make a break for it, I mean why bother to be polite at this stage?
The waiter directs us to our table, Gordon releases me from his grip and with one hand pulls a seat back and with the other directs me into it. Somehow he makes it look so elegant it looked like I had been helped into seats my whole life.
Fuck! There are like 200 people in here! And like half of them were paying attention to Gordon and me as we came in. Trying to make a scene is impossible for someone like me, I'm not used to crowds.
It's ok though, I'll simply get up to go to the bathroom and then sneak out a window. Or once up nonchalantly find my way to the exit, blend into the crowd then run.
Five courses later and I'm still in my seat. Worse, I'm laughing at his bad jokes, blushing at his lazy flirting and even making myself look interested when he brags about shit I couldn't care less about.
I'm at a loss, between courses 3 and 4 I even went to the bathroom. I came back to his table on my own after a minute of thought. I don't know what to do if I leave.
He said it before, I'm homeless in a foreign land, I barely speak Graboshen and seeing the price of things today I don't think my 30nail will go as far as I thought it would. I stay in my seat and flatter this creepy old man because I don't know if I'll survive on my own.
The courses are slowing down after number 8, and we are both stuffed to bursting. Gordon must have had 3 or 4 litres of wine by now. And they weren't serving the watered down stuff we drank on the boat.
At least my plates were all goblin-sized, if they'd put the same share in front of me as they had in front of Gordon, I definitely would have popped.
(It's psychologically quite hard for goblins not to eat what's put in front of us. Even to the point of causing us sickness)
The sun set hours ago by now, the room is lit by wall sconces instead. The restaurant is mostly clear of patrons now too.
I look at my escort, he sits across the table looking very satisfied. Despite his leathery skin, he is undeniably handsome, his tusks, his shorter ears, his somehow boyish smirk and his seemingly endless manliness. There's also obviously no issue with his virality.
Not to mention he's wealthy and apparently well connected. My parents might like him, my father certainly would and my mother and grandmother might if I wanted them to.
He will seemingly give me the world if I just let him have me.
But something about that fills me with dread.
I feel like I never really made a choice, I just never said no to him.
Soon he's escorting me by the arm down the street again, he's stumbling a bit from the alcohol. I'm glad I decided to drink slowly.
If I don't want to sleep with him I think I'm going to have to find my courage soon.
I'll drop him off, take my things from his room then go down to the port.
...
No, I won't.
I think I realize why I haven't really said no to him yet. What else can I really do? I'm a runner-way teenager in a city I don't know.
Even if I knew the right direction back to the port (which I don't) would I even have the courage to go there alone? Without even knowing which direction the sunken starship is?
I've been knowingly following a man who has already sexually harassed me. And seemingly has every intention of doing it again, just because I'm too scared to step into the unknown alone.
And recognizing that doesn't really change anything, I'm still scared, I just know what of now.
He directs me down the last street towards his villa. I help him fish out the keys and once the door is open we both enter, I'm halfway to panicking.
Now that I'm here, knowing what he might try, I think the unknown outside might actually be preferable.
I spot my bag where I left it this morning.
I pull out of his grip and go check that my money pouch is still in my bag, then I hoist my rucksack onto my shoulders. The leather feels cold where it touches my bare skin.
Fuck Fuck Fuck why did I wait so long to leave?
I'm doing it, the door is still open, and he can't stop me. He's shuffled over to the middle of the room and I have a clear line to the door.
Three meters from the door. My body is tense, ready to fly out the door at any sound of movement.
Two meters from the door. My blood pounds in my ears.
One meter from the door. I'll figure out where I need to go after I'm far away from here.
Zero.
I hear a sob from behind me.
