Author's Note:

Thanks for the wonderful reviews and enjoy!

The young arachnid groaned, still having trouble lifting himself onto his feet against the weight of the iron fetters.

Rebecca looked at John in concern before crouching next to the slave boy. "John, help me with him…" She pleaded as she wrapped one of her arms around the young alien's torso and looped his chained arm over her shoulder.

John nodded, following suit with the arachnid's other arm and he and Rebecca lifted the small slave boy from the ground.

"We need to find a locksmith to remove these shackles…" Rebecca stated.

"Aye, an' a doctor." John nodded. "The kid's far from healthy as far as I can tell…"

"Need a hand there?" An inquisitive voice enquired from behind the two young adults.

Rebecca turned her head to look over what could only be explained as a five and a half foot squirrel with rust-red fur that stood upright like a human. The squirrel humanoid wore a pair of loose navy-blue trousers with a matching open-chest vest and he had a sheathed short sword at his waist.

"If you could give us the correct directions to the nearest doctor and to a locksmith or blacksmith, then that would be most appreciated." Rebecca stated, straining a little from the weight of the iron shackles on the young alien.

"Certainly." The squirrel humanoid nodded politely. "If you would please follow me, the locksmith is close by and I'll show you the way…" He had a calm, paced voice that one wouldn't expect coming from a squirrel -then again- one wouldn't expect anything coming from a squirrel, much more a five and a half foot squirrel humanoid.

"Thank you." Rebecca sighed gratefully. She glanced at John and they followed the stranger through the maze-like streets of the city.

The locksmith that they had been led to was tirelessly working away at removing the shackles safely from the young arachnid, and John was searching for local medicine to heal the aforementioned boy.

Meanwhile, the squirrel humanoid had introduced himself to Rebecca as Martin Kovacs. Martin had mentioned that he was one of many mercenaries open for hire from Los Terrano and that he was a skilled swordsman.

"Of course, I'm not bragging." Martin stated with a warm chuckle. "I've just had a generous amount of experience."

Rebecca nodded. "Are you on any present missions now, Martin?"

"Not at all, Miss Rebecca…" The squirrel humanoid smiled. "I'm up for hire: for any task and for any length of time. It's the mercenary's life, you see."

Rebecca smiled softly. "Might I interest you in a part-time position as a member of my escort?" She enquired.

"An escort?" Martin chuckled. "Pardon me, Miss Rebecca, but you don't seem like the type who needs protecting."

Rebecca shrugged. "Really it's to ease my mother's nerves…" She sighed. "The only reason she allowed me to go exploring is that she was convinced that I'd have an escort with me for the majority of the time."

Martin raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't you just lie to her?" He asked.

Rebecca chuckled. "She's got contacts all over the Etherium." She stated. "I'm afraid that she'd find out sooner or later, and that would be the end of my exploits."

Martin sighed. "Well, I'm interested -to say the least- and honoured at such an offer." He smiled. "But perhaps you might want to see some of the other mercenaries before you think of hiring me…"

"Nonsense." Rebecca smiled genuinely. "You're a good man –Martin- and you've helped us out already. You have a keen sense of direction and I'll admit, you're very likeable."

Martin chuckled at the flattery. "Well if you insist, Miss Rebecca." He cleared his throat and saluted formally. "I would be honoured to be a member of your escort, Lady Clarke."

Rebecca couldn't help but chuckle.

Soon after the discussion between the fast-forming friends, the locksmith poked his head out of his work tent. His face was sunken from age like that of a dog, though he was undoubtedly human, and his hair had greyed from many years of working.

"Lady Rebecca?" He whispered, looking at the young woman with his bright blue eyes.

"Yes?" Rebecca stood from her position outside of the locksmith's work tent.

"My work's done here," he stated, "but might I suggest getting this boy to the nearest doctor?"

"Why?" Rebecca gasped. "What's wrong?"

The locksmith shook his head sadly. "The kid's running a high fever… which is odd for his species… you know, arachnids." The aged worker rubbed the back of his neck. "I've seen the two sub-species of arachnids, and know a bit about them… The desert sub-species are a lot like scorpions," he explained, "very resistant to the heat and their exoskeleton's impermeable to nearly everything…" the locksmith continued, "There's also another sub-species that resides in jungle areas, a lot like spiders… they're nimble, their exoskeleton's also diamond-hard… but…" The locksmith motioned for Rebecca and Martin to follow him into the tent.

Rebecca stepped into the tent and looked around. The tent was filled with an assortment of metal tools of assorted shapes and sizes used for picking locks. The young slave boy lay asleep on a cushion in the corner of the tent.

"This kid… he's like neither of the arachnid sub-species that I've ever seen…" the locksmith pointed out, "…and if he's running a fever, I'd say that he's still very young… not more than three years of age…"

Rebecca gasped. "That young?" She looked at the locksmith.

"Yes," the locksmith folded his arms over his chest, "but arachnid's don't have the same maturity as us humans… this kid would probably act like a ten-year-old if he was healthier… still," he shook his head, "I'm intrigued by this kid… he's very unique for his species…"

"Perhaps he's a hybrid." John cut in from behind them, causing Rebecca to jump a little from surprise.

"Yes…" The locksmith nodded. "Perhaps he is…" He looked over the slave boy. "I wouldn't be surprised if this kid's parents were slaves as well, which would provide reason to the interbreeding of the two sub-species and it would explain why he was a slave even at a young age…"

Rebecca looked over the arachnid, dozing peacefully against the cushion; his arms were wrapped around himself.

"Did you find any medicine?" The locksmith asked.

"Yes, sir." John pulled a bottle from his jacket pocket and handed it to the elderly man.

"Thank you, lad." The locksmith uncorked the bottle and emptied it into a bowl of cool water. "I assume that you had a few errands to run, Lady Rebecca?" The locksmith asked as he dipped a cloth into the cool water. "Something about hiring an escort?"

Rebecca blinked. "Yes… thank you." She shook herself back to her senses. "How did you know?"

"Keen hearing, Miss…" The locksmith smiled widely. "You need it for lock-picking, you know." He shrugged. "I hate to digress but, if you wish -Lady Rebecca- I could provide some humble places for you and your entourage to sleep for the night… I know myself that the inns in this port are harder to get into than it is to find water in the desert."

"It's true, Miss Rebecca…" Martin stated bluntly. "If we mercenaries didn't have shared quarters at the institution, we'd be paying half of our salaries to innkeepers and would still have to wait most of the night for a room."

Rebecca smiled at the man's generosity. "Thank you… I'm going to hire the rest of my escort, but I'll be back within the hour… is there anything else that you'll need?"

"Not a thing, Lady Rebecca," the kind locksmith smiled, "I've got most of my family's healing tonics in storage, and you can trust me that the kid's in good hands."

Rebecca nodded curtly, "Martin? John?" She motioned towards the entrance of the tent.

"Right," Martin smiled, "I'll lead the way."

Author's Note:

Thank you Whisperwings for taking the time to edit this chapter!

MG#6