“Go out the way we came in, and make sure none of the slaves try to run. And from now on, around anyone not in the know, call me Cooper or Highwayman.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t have my bounty hunter identity tied to obviously to anything we’re doing.” He gestured at his different outfit and weapon. “Didn’t you think anything was off? I haven’t used my guns or axe since we left.”

  Kaeleth shrugged and opened the door.

  “I change weapons as needed. I assumed you did the same.” She waved her hand. “Fine, Cooper, what will you be doing?”

  Jaeger walked to the shutter activator.

  “I need to get in character, then I’ll open this, and we’ll speak with the slaves.”

  Kaeleth raised an eyebrow at that but left, shutting the door behind herself. He gave her a ten-second countdown before rolling his shoulders. He needed to act like someone other than a bounty hunter; this would be a good test run for the party.

  Acting wasn’t a skill he had much of, but not all targets could be hunted in the wild. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to impersonate someone, or something; he wasn’t. With a deep breath, he hit the switch and felt a change come over him.

  Gone was Jaeger, the bounty hunter. In his place rose Cooper Highwayman, gentleman bandit.

  As the shutters rose, he found himself looking out at the confused faces of the slaves and an otherwise empty street. He took a moment to look at the assorted slaves before him, most of whom looked starved, beaten, and broken. Most of them wore the threadbare clothing, barely more than sacks. A few of them wore actual clothing, dirty and worn, but everyday wear.

  Finally, he saw scattered in the group two people who stood out, not from their clothing but in how they carried themselves. Everyone else had the hunch and vacant stare of a forsaken soul, not these two. They tried to feign the look, but their faces were just a bit too filled, and their eyes alight with something.

  His observation was the work of moments. Before it lasted too long, he brushed his hand along his armored highwayman’s jacket and slid the collar down to reveal a charismatic smile.

  “Good. None of you ran away.” He ran a hand over his slicked-back hair. “Who here would like to be free?”

  The slaves looked at him blankly, the vacant stare of one who makes no real choices.

  “Live free, or die as slaves?”

  A slave near the back called out.

  “Mr. Castin owns us; we can’t do anything without his say-so.”

  “Mr. Castin?” Jaeger asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “He was the man you took into the store behind you.” A quiet voice called out.

  Jaeger looked to the speaker, a woman near the front of the line.

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  “Ah, the Flesh Trader. Let me deliver some good news then. He no longer owns any of you.”

  The words seemed to send a shock through the group, all except the woman. She gave him a hard stare before speaking.

  “What happened to him?”

  Kaeleth chose this time to make herself known, walking from behind the nearby alley she’d stood in.

  “He’s dead and so will all of you be if you don’t stop asking questions.”

  Jaeger offered a shrug and a theatrical sigh.

  “My companion, while blunt, is correct. Your owner is dead, a fatal cause of deboning. Enough about him, though, we’re here to talk about you. Now live or die? The choice is yours.”

  The slaves stood in silence, a look of uncertainty on their faces. For people like them, cast down and made slaves, hope was a dangerous and addictive thing. Would this man and woman, admitted killers, be better for them than the man who’d enslaved them? The answer was one only they themselves could know.

  “I want to be free.” The woman said, tugging the chains on those around her to try and move forward.

  Her words were like the breaking of a dam.

  “Aye.” “Me too.” “Free me, please.”

  All of the slaves clamored and struggled to be the first to him.

  Jaeger watched the line of slaves for a moment, reading their reactions before he tried to calm the crowd.

  “Calm yourselves, everyone. Freedom has a price.”

  That cooled them down. Nothing was free, not even freedom itself. They waited on a razor’s edge to hear the price of their emancipation.

  “The cost is threefold. First silence on today’s events. You don’t speak of word of this to anyone. Second, you all will be joining my friend and me on a trip. We can’t risk any of you breaking the first rule, so we’ll be leaving the city. Third, information on Mr. Castin’s estate. Location, security, secrets, you name it, I want it.”

  “Why do you want to know that?”

  Jaeger couldn’t see which slave had asked, which narrowed down the speaker to two. He answered anyway.

  “There's no honor, no challenge, no fun in stealing from ordinary people. So my companion and I steal from the ones who most deserve it.”

  That caught the slaves off guard, and they all exchanged looks. Jaeger had expected at least one to volunteer information or to speak up; instead, he was met by a sea of silence. As he looked at the downcast faces, he came to an obvious conclusion.

  “You all have no information, do you?”

  Again, the woman slave spoke.

  “Everyone here is new. We were all freshly bought.”

  Jaeger tapped against the counter separating them.

  “Then why are you all dressed differently?”

  She gestured at the ones in rags.

  “We aren’t from here; pirate slavers brought us in. They took everything we had.”

  “Oh, and you’re quite sure of that?”

  She nodded.

  “The slavers treated us the same, and pulled us from the same cages.”

  A voice behind her spoke.

  “Not those two, they didn’t get any of the ‘treatment’ we did.” An older man pointed at the two slaves Jaeger had noted earlier. “They didn’t taste the lash or have to visit any of the guards.”

  At that, the other slaves turned inward, encircling the two who were called out.

  “I thought it was weird you looked so well-fed.”

  One of them tried to defend himself.

  “We were merchants before they grabbed us. We weren’t held long. Master… Mr. Castin bought us specifically for our mercantile skills.”

  “That one told me you two were money lenders who fell on the wrong side of one of the slum gang bosses.”

  That seemed to be the final straw for the two slaves as they simultaneously pulled off their iron collars and drew knives. Attacking the closest slaves, they made an opening and ran. Or rather tried.

  “Don’t kill them,” Jaeger called out lazily.

  Kaeleth didn’t bother replying and instead pounced, whipping out with her Spine. The bone extended, revealing a layer of muscle that connected the bones, smashing the skull into the legs of one of the slaves. As he fell, she flicked her wrist at the other, launching a trio of sharp metal discs. They flew through the air, slicing through the tendons of the other slave.

  As they both fell, screaming and crying, Kaeleth walked over and dragged them back.

  “Here.” She dropped the two slaves across the counter.

  “Thank you.” Grabbing the hair of one, he slapped the man until he stopped crying. “You’re going to tell me what I want to know, or I’m going to let your fellow slaves have you.”

  Going off the looks of the slaves, they would more than likely rip the man to pieces with their bare hands.

  “So. About the estate.”