Several hours after being rescued from the Aileron's hulk, Grace and her brothers were huddled together on a short platform, squinting in the glare of a hot sun as they surveyed their dismal surroundings. Axteryx was a planet of varied climates but the children had been raised in the capitol city, which was nestled in rolling, forested hills. Now, they surveyed the arid landscape with dismay.

Styxe's port city was barely more than a large village, sprawling out onto a desert plain. The wind carried dry dirt and sand with it that collected in sheltered corners everywhere. Very little vegetation grew anywhere in the city, save for a few, brave weeds that struggled against the elements in protected places.

Almost all of the buildings were single-story, of native clay so as to be unremarkable against the landscape. Even the people were unremarkable for the most part. Their clothing nearly all consisted of varying shades of off-white that often collected the blowing dust until it became the same shade as the landscape. Almost everyone wore the same garb; loose, long-sleeved shirts tucked into snug trousers and high boots.

There weren't many people on the streets but the ones that were out all seemed to Grace to either be bidding on slaves or watching the auction with interest. Grace kept her protective clutch on her brothers, doing her best to shield them from the interested stares of the men around them and despite being keenly aware of her thin night gown. All of the bidders were dressed well, all with fistfuls of currency as they bid for ownership from the slave dealer.

"You can't sell them piecemeal!" shouted one bidder in an outrage when someone bid on one of the twins. He was taller than the rest, dressed almost entirely in black, the youngest bidder amongst those clustered around the auction block. "Dechim, you know the law. Minors must go with their responsible party, if there is one." At the tall man's protest, several bidders drifted away.

The fat slave dealer prodded Grace with his walking stick. "How old?" he growled.

"They're barely ten," she told him hotly, "just children!"

"And what about the girl?" shouted another bidder.

"I'm seventeen." Grace was proud of her calm, even voice despite her fears.

"Grace!" protested Ben quietly in their native language. "What if you aren't old enough?"

"Shh," she warned in the same tongue. "Father always says there's power in the truth and that lies are dishonorable. Remember the sixth chapter of the Proverbs? God hates a lying tongue. I won't lie." She was grateful though, to know that her brothers understood the foreign speech as well.

"She's old enough," the first bidder asserted. He'd addressed the slave dealer but his words seemed directed at Grace, as if he'd understood Ben's concern and were reassuring them. "I'll take the lot for thirty."

"You're killing me!" protested the dealer. He used his stick to poke at Grace's hip. "The girl alone is worth that." Grace twisted away from the unyielding tip of the fat man's cane while attempting to protect her brothers from the grasping hands around them at the same time.

The tall bidder scoffed at the dealer's protest. "For two small boys and an off-world girl barely able to work a whole day? Be grateful for thirty!"

Another bidder spoke up, "thirty-five!"

"Forty, and that's a sacrifice, seeing as how the girl is an off-worlder and likely afraid of real work."

The tall bidder's sarcastic comment quieted several other clamoring bidders, who soon drifted away from the auction. Grace realized that the trio's worth was less than if they'd been natives and born into slavery. That thought gave her small comfort as she prayed for God's will to be done in the matter.

The auction continued for only a short time more. With every bid, the tall man added another disparaging remark about the trio for sale until he'd nearly convinced everyone that he was doing the dealer a huge favor by bidding at all. Soon, the tall, young bidder counted some bills out of his untidy wad of cash and paid for his purchase.

He grabbed Grace's wrist. "Come on."

Grace stumbled off the block, still trying to hold onto her brothers with her other hand. "Don't worry, they're coming with you. I would never leave children behind. You'll be safe with me," assured the winning bidder under his breath before he raised his voice to an impatient growl that seemed almost forced. "Will you please come along?"

Grace hurried her brothers after him to a hovercraft nearby. With a smile for each and a friendly, "up you go . . . now you!" he lifted the twins one at a time and tossed them lightly into the rear of the vehicle.

Grace tried to clamber in after them, eager to keep her brothers in sight, but she couldn't find a purchase for her feet on the smooth, curved metal of the craft that hovered knee-high in the air. With a shake of his head, the tall man cupped his hands. Flushing, Grace put her hand on his shoulder and stepped up into his hands. He heaved and sent her head-first after her brothers.

"Hey!" protested Ben. He glared in indignation at the man who'd treated his sister so roughly. "Be nice to my sister!"

Ignoring the boy, the man vaulted into his vehicle beside the driver. The driver grinned at his master; teeth white against the grime of his face. "Good day at the auction, Master?" asked the driver as he set his craft into motion.

The master grunted. "Possibly; remains to be seen, though. Not what I wanted but they're what was available."

He turned around in his seat toward where the trio had righted themselves. Catching Grace's gaze, he said, "You're new to Styxe. I'm sorry that you're finding yourself in this situation, whatever it is. There's only one rule you need to know here. You don't say 'no'; not to me, not to anyone else. Your lives will be a lot more pleasant if you remember that. Got it?"

Fear twisted at Grace's guts as she considered the implications of the rule but she nodded, trying to hold back tears and reminding herself that God was in control. For some reason, He'd placed her with this man! Looking up at her face, the boys nodded quickly as well, taking their cue from their sister. Apparently satisfied, the master turned to face forward again and ignored his purchase for the remainder of their trip.

For her part, Grace held her brothers close, taking comfort in their nearness as she studied the men in front of her. The driver had dark, curling hair and dark eyebrows over a coarse-featured face partly hidden by his beard. Under the grime, he had a darkened complexion from constant exposure to the hot, wasteland sun. His shirt appeared to have been white at one time but was a uniform grey color from age and the blowing dust.

Grace could no longer see his master's face but she reflected on what she'd seen already. He was a younger man, perhaps in his early twenties, clean-shaven with an easy smile and kind eyes despite the way he held himself aloof. The master had finer features and was paler, not as tanned by the elements as his servant though he shared the same dark hair and eyes. Unlike his servant, the master's clothing was brightly clean and looked new; black clothing accented by black and silver embroidery at the cuffs, collar and buttons. High, black leather boots protected his feet.

Eventually, Grace's attention turned to the landscape around them. The wasteland stretched out as far as the eye could see, with tufts of short vegetation growing in random patches in the otherwise bare dirt. Occasionally, a stunted tree grew at odd angles to the earth below, making the land seem as if it had once been fertile but had suffered great climate changes in the not-to-distant past. Cracks in the ground told Grace that the land was also suffering an unusual drought, since the whipping winds had yet to blow dust into the cracks in the ground.

For several hours, the hovercraft sped over the barren lands until it slowed near a stockade fence and came to a stop at a gate. Once the gate was opened by someone who'd appeared to be expecting the travelers, the hovercraft drifted inside and then sped up again. They traveled on for a distance that seemed like several miles to Grace.

Inside the fence, the vegetation was less sparse, the trees far greener. Eventually, the travelers came to another fence and were admitted through another gate by smiling guards. The driver halted his master's craft in front of a group of buildings that were the same color as the barren ground.

Inside the second fence, the ground was far more fertile. Lush grass grew inside neatly fenced areas and several gardens marched in green rows. Livestock called occasionally while busy people worked at various tasks.

The master leaped over the side of his hovercraft as soon as it came to a halt and beckoned for Grace and the boys to follow. Grace slid over the side and held her hands out for her nearest brother to jump into. The master plucked the other twin over the hovercraft's side and swung him to the ground, almost playfully.

Once the three of them were safely on the ground, the hovercraft's driver set it into motion again, presumably to park it elsewhere. The master held Grace's gaze until she looked away, flushing. "Come with me," he said quietly, then led the way into the largest building.

Grace put her arms around her brothers, who held onto her waist from either side as the trio followed the man. Inside, several women approached, each calling happy greetings to their master as they offered food, drink or water to wash with. Grace longed for all three but was offered none.

The master returned their greetings readily. He accepted the drink, asked for food to be served in his study later and for wash water to be brought to his quarters. He drained the cup and returned it to his smiling servant as he led Grace and the boys deeper into the house.

Ignored by the other women, Grace couldn't help but feel invisible until an older woman winked and nodded at her. Grace nodded back but didn't smile. She was too frightened by her prospects of the future.

Eventually, the master led the way into an inner room that was lined by tall shelves and potted plants. Cushioned chairs and a table were placed in strategic places around a large desk but the master didn't offer to seat them. Instead, he went to the desk and removed something from a drawer, something that he thrust at Grace without ceremony.

"Put these on," he said abruptly. "They tell outsiders that you belong here. It'll be some protection from slave traders."

Grace accepted the wad of leather lacing and merely held it, thinking to untangle the mess later. The master continued. "I'll have Raza assign you to something suitable. Keep your kids out of trouble."

"They're my brothers," Grace murmured.

His tone turned softer and his expression was sympathetic. "That was another life entirely- a pleasant dream if it helps. You will adjust much better if you think that way. Here on Styxe, they belong to you until they hit seventeen. After that, they'll belong to me. Raza will help you with them, if you need it. She's good with that sort of thing." He paused. "Do you have any questions?"

"Why did you want us?" Grace blurted the question without forethought, and then blushed crimson. "I mean, you told your driver that we weren't what you were after and you paid more than twice what you originally offered, even after everything you said about us off-worlders."

He smiled a little but Grace realized he was embarrassed. "Think of it as an investment. Your brothers will be seventeen eventually and I'm sure they'll be helping at least a little in no time. In the meantime, I know Raza won't mind the extra pair of hands.

"Other than that? It was because I know the others who were bidding and how they'd have treated a pretty off-worlder like you. You and your boys will be reasonably safe here and treated better than anywhere else you could have gone."

His reasoning both frightened and reassured Grace. "Thank you," she murmured, knowing he'd bought the siblings out of mercy and for little other reason. On the ride out from the city, she'd wondered what the three of them would have been worth if they'd been natives but she didn't dare ask.

"I'm Grace and my brothers are Ben and Ryan." The boys waved to show who was who but being identical to a fault, Grace knew he'd never get them right. "Don't worry about keeping them straight," she grinned. "Few people can."

From behind her, a woman spoke up as she came through the door. "Don't worry; we'll get it figured out eventually. Master? Your water is hot."

"Thank you, Raza. Please show Grace and her boys around and set them to work, will you? They're off-worlders, so be patient." The master's smile included all of them and Grace was startled by his indulgent expression. "Oh, and I'm sure they'd appreciate some clothing as well. It appears that they were taken in their bedclothes."

Grace flushed in humiliation but Raza clucked sympathetically. "Poor lambs, what a way to stand on the block! Of course, I will, Master. Fina will bring something to eat after your wash." Raza, the woman who'd smiled at Grace earlier, sounded all too pleased to have been asked to help the newcomers.

She turned to Grace and the boys. "Come on, Grace. I'll give you the grand tour as soon as we've found you something to wear."

Grace followed her silently from the room. Sensibly, the boys didn't say anything either. Numb with shock over the events of the day, Grace's mind was mostly blank, too overwhelmed to properly form any kind of prayer, even.

"The master's not much for idle conversation," Raza said as they walked out of the house and down toward the farthest outbuilding. "His parents were killed in a raid a few years ago and he hasn't really gotten over it, I think. He's kind to us though, same as his father was. We eat well, wear decent clothes and have shoes. He keeps strong borders and he's a fair disciplinarian. You won't find a slave in his holdings who has a cross word to say about our master."

Ben laughed quietly. "Well, you wouldn't anyway," he muttered to his brother, elbowing him. "Even if he were harsh, what slave would be caught disrespecting his master and risk being punished?"

Raza turned to address the boy. "Around here? Anyone would. Our master is fair handed about such things but I've met plenty of slaves in the city who don't have much good to say about their masters when they're sure they won't get caught saying it. You were lucky, young man, that your sister got to come here. Our master has never used a whip, a knife, a brand or prod on any of us.

"Now, you can follow your sister and help her if you like. Stay out of the gardens unless you're told to help weed them and stay away from the animals unless you're told to help clean the barn. Don't touch anything without permission. Is that understood?

"You might have been free wherever you came from but here, you're less than property because you belong to property. The masters'd call you a slave-slave because it will be up to Grace to see that you get any food or water at all." Abashed, the twins only nodded.

"Are Ben and Ryan the only children here?" asked Grace as she looked around at the laboring slaves.

Raza only laughed at Grace's concern. "Oh, heavens no!" the older woman replied. "Most of the women are married with children of their own by the time they're twenty. The children stay with their mothers until they're old enough to learn. Then the boys follow their fathers while the girls work around the house. If you're lucky, Boys, one of the men will take you in hand."

"Both boys are literate, Ryan is talented at code programming as well. Ben is best at active things." Grace grinned at her brothers to encourage them.

Raza nodded. "I'm sure we'll find something for them to do then, even as young as they are. What about you though, Grace? What skills do you have?"

"I'm literate too; best at accounting but I like cooking and sewing. At home, I like to garden and I'm fairly decent at first aid when I need to be." Grace thought of the final report card and graduation certificate her parents would never see. She'd gotten top marks in those courses.

Grace's self-analysis brought a grin to the older lady's face. "Then you'll fit in nicely, Grace Dear! Here and I was just telling the master the other day that we could use someone like you." By her tone, Raza clearly assumed that her master had purchased Grace after learning her particular set of skills.

"Either way, here we are. You can change in my family room. Grace, I'm sure my daughter won't mind loaning you some of her clothes until we can make you some, and I'll go and find something for your boys to wear while you change. Just leave your nightwear here until we find you somewhere to stay. We don't have any empty family rooms . . . Well; we'll deal with that later."

Raza was talking as she worked at finding a set of garments to throw in Grace's general direction and then disappearing from the room, presumably to find clothing for the twins while Grace changed. She returned in short order, even before Grace had fully finished dressing. "Hmm, those are a bit tight," observed the older woman critically. "They'll do for today though, won't they?"

Grace nodded silently and helped her brothers change into the clothing Raza had found for them. "Don't worry about your things, Boys," Raza reassured the twins, who looked as if they'd rather keep their 'security blanket' toys with them. "I promise you will have them back by dark. Okay?" She smiled when they nodded and abandoned the stuffed toys with their pajamas.

Used to loose robes that got in the way when they ran or wrestled, the boys were delighted with the bloused shirts and trousers worn by the slaves. Feeling cramped and unfeminine in her borrowed clothes, Grace envied her brothers' positive outlook silently. Still, it beat the gauzy night gown she'd been wearing. Grace offered a silent prayer of gratitude.

Raza apologized that she hadn't any shoes for the three newcomers but promised that some would be made as soon as possible. As soon as the boys were changed, Raza led Grace and the twins away from the bunkhouse in order to give the promised 'tour'. "Over here is the garage . . ." Raza pointed at the building as she began her chatter anew.

Regretfully, the weary children turned away from the cool bunkhouse in favor of Raza's tour. When they reached the kitchen again, Ryan tugged at Grace's hand. "Can I go back to the garage, Grace? There was someone working on a hovercraft and I want to know if I can help."

Raza answered for Grace. "Of course you can! That was Draz, my husband. There's a bell that rings for dinner. Come back then. I'm sure Draz will have something to keep you occupied for the rest of the day. Stay on the path and watch for the little critters. They sting hard! " The older woman winked at Grace as Ryan ran off. "Never discourage an interest in work, Dear; and don't worry, our menfolk are all very patient with children."

"In that case," Grace grinned at Ben, "why don't you go offer an extra set of eyes at the gate house? The gate guards might be able to answer some of your questions."

Ben grinned widely and nodded once. Carefully, he headed off toward the gate at a more deliberate pace than his brother, clearly heeding the warning against the danger as well as not accustomed to walking barefoot.

As soon as her brother was aiming toward the proper building, Grace turned her attention back to the kitchen. "He usually has a thousand questions about everything. I'm actually surprised he didn't ask any before now. Um, where do I start?"

Belatedly, she remembered that she was still holding the tangled mess of leather laces and stuffed it into her new pocket as she turned her attention toward the kitchen chores that needed to be done. As she scrubbed at some dishes, Grace turned to the woman beside her. "Do you know what he went to town to buy?"

The woman frowned in confusion for a second then grinned. "Who, the master? He most likely didn't have anything in particular in mind, though we are a tad short on young, marriageable men." The women around them laughed and joined the conversation, giving Grace a fairly decent introduction to life on Styxe.

It seemed that there was ongoing trouble with the neighboring holdings, which forced the slaves to be rather skilled as warriors as well as laborers. The entire holding had to be vigilant against invasion and lived in a constant state of war. Laborers were used to working the fields with one hand on a weapon at all times and even their women learned to fight in case the compound and outlaying settlements were invaded.

There were two meals per day for the slaves. They had the late evening hours for personal time. Slaves could marry freely and raise families but everyone lived with the constant reality of death or loss to slave traders.

". . . and there's a second rule to the one the master gave you, you know," remarked another woman when the conversation had halted. "The first is 'never say no', of course, but the other is a saying that we have here and applies to almost anyone born on Styxe. 'Everyone has a master.' There are two kinds of people here: masters and slaves- but there ain't too many masters, if you catch my drift. Even the slave dealers are slaves to someone."

Another woman took up the discourse. "If you get kidnapped and re-sold, don't get too upset. It happens. Just get on with your life under your new master and don't worry about what you left behind. The other slaves will raise your kids, your husband will remarry and you'll end up remarried yourself."

Grace looked around at the woman, who all nodded their agreement. Accustomed to the stability of her peaceful home-world, Grace was horrified by their matter-of-fact summary of life on Styxe. Surely, God wouldn't want that for her life, would He? "It sounds like a horrible life!" she blurted.

Raza dropped what she was doing to give Grace a quick hug. "That's life here, Dear. It's all we know. I've lived on two different holdings, been married three times and had six children, but only my last one lives here now.

"The first stayed with his father when I was kidnapped. One died of a fever and another was killed in a raid. Two others were kidnapped by slave dealers. Fina here has been sold back to the master twice now. That's the point of this." The women all pulled identical leather necklaces from their shirts, each with a thin, metal charm that resembled some sort of misshapen star.

"If you're kidnapped by slave dealers and they know the charm, they'll sell you back to the master. Otherwise, you'll go to someone else."

Grace turned back to the dishes. "Thanks for the warning," she said grimly. "I'll be sure and tell the boys to stay inside the inner gate." With a sick feeling, Grace realized that the pendants were similar to the tags that hung from the collar of her favorite house pet on Axteryx.

"Oh, slave dealers won't bother with them until they're older," laughed one of the women. "Small children can't be sold, it's the law."

That night, Grace found a quiet corner after dinner to untangle the charms she'd been given and to reflect on her situation, praying for wisdom in order to know what to do. Grace knew that she and her brothers were too young to be able to safely return home while a plot existed against them. If they tried too soon, she thought, then the fomenters of that plot might simply kill the royal offspring rather than merely selling them into slavery!

Until they were old enough to take on the perilous politics of her home world, Grace decided, Styxe was as good a place as any to hide. Grace and her brothers would pretend to be slaves in the meantime.

She refused to call her purchaser 'the master' or even to think of him as such in her thoughts. Only her God could command that title from her! The young man called 'the master' would be her protector and guardian, little more.

When the leather was sorted out, Grace found she'd been given four of the necklaces, so she pocketed one to return to the house. The other three, she studied in the palm of her hand, arranging them this way and that until she'd managed to find a vague facsimile of her father's own emblem contained within the lines of metals. Grace donned all three necklaces and hid them under her shirt, feeling grateful that the symbol hadn't been branded onto her skin instead.

As heirs of their father's kingdom, however, the boys would not be allowed to wear another's symbol! Several days later, using a piece of wire she'd found on the ground near the garage, Grace fashioned the pendants into her father's crest, lest she forget who she was, or to Whom she belonged! Knowing that the pendants would eventually need to be returned, Grace kept the other two leather laces attached and wore all three.