Chapter 38
Mistel
How had it come to this?
Mistel sat huddled in a cage meant for animals, iron bars cold against her back.
A coarse layer of straw lined the bottom, scratching her legs and reeking of urine and damp rot.
She curled her fingers into the folds of her skirt, trying to steady her trembling hands.
She wasn’t sure if it was the cold or her nerves making them shake. Maybe both.
The bitter chill of the room turned her breath into pale clouds that vanished in the dim light of the warehouse. A different warehouse. Cole had been right about Thusk having a second. This one stretched higher and had alcoves, rather than long shelves.
Memories came back to her in jagged flashes. Drustan Fawst’s cruel sneer as he shoved her into this cage, his heavy footsteps retreating, leaving her alone in the suffocating darkness.
But she wasn’t entirely alone.
She squinted through the murky room. To her left, several cages held boars.
One pale ice boar with massive tusks rooted at the hay, its snout wet and glistening.
Across from her cage, a man lay in another, his head tilted against the bars in what looked like fitful sleep, flaxen hair leaking out the gaps.
Drustan’s parting words repeated in her memory. He’d said he was going to buy her, as if she were no more than a sack of grain. Her throat tightened at the thought. This will not be my life, she told herself. She would belong to no man, especially not that brute.
Mistel set her jaw. She couldn’t stay here and wait for him to return. She wouldn’t live as someone’s captive, caged like an animal, her every move controlled, her freedom ripped away.
Her memories—her worst memories—pressed in on her. She’d been here before, after her mother’s death, in a different kind of cage. She shoved those thoughts away and fought to focus on the present.
Her gaze swept the room. A single oil lantern hung from a beam overhead, its weak flame barely lighting the cavernous space.
Crates stamped with the Thusk Shipping Exchange insignia were stacked in uneven towers, their wooden sides stained and splintered.
Chains dangled from the rafters, some tipped with hooks.
She caught sight of a guard leaning against the far wall on her left, a piece of straw between his teeth, his hand resting lazily on a belt that held a ring of keys.
“Excuse me?” Mistel called, her voice cutting through the stillness.
The guard flinched, the straw falling from his lips.
“Quiet down!” came a sharp voice on her right.
Mistel twisted toward the sound. Over the stack of boar cages, she spotted two more men, their heads bent close in conversation. She narrowed her eyes. How many guards were in here?
She tried again with the first one. “Oh, sir? The one who dropped the straw?”
The man straightened, his brow pinched. “What you want?”
“Can you let me out, please?” she asked sweetly.
“’Course not,” he snapped. “You’re going on the next boat.”
Mistel’s stomach dropped, but she masked it with a tilt of her head. “You must be mistaken. Master Fawst said he was going to buy me for himself.”
Behind her, someone snorted. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
She glanced back and saw three men standing around a stack of crates, a lantern between them illuminating a dice game.
“Certainly not,” she replied.
“Well, Fawst ain’t in charge.” The first guard pushed off the wall and took a step closer. “And Thusk already sold you, so you’re shipping out.”
Sold her. She shivered. “Sold me to who?”
“What do I look like, a ledger?” The man’s lip curled. “Now quiet down, or I’ll make yeh.”
“Well!” Mistel straightened, mustering a haughty tone. “There’s no need to make threats.”
“Bite your tongue!”
Ah ha. That this hunx of a guard had a temper gave Mistel an idea. She cleared her throat and began to sing.
“Woe, woe, woe to the Five. Woe, woe as they flee for their lives.”
One of the dice players groaned. “Woman, spare us your clamor.”
Another said, “Let her sing. She’s got a right fine voice.”
Mistel sang louder, filling the cavernous space. “As the Father God grieves how they fail to believe. Woe, woe to the Five.”
The animals stirred, blinking in the darkness. The ice boar snorted and pawed at the hay. The man in the cage two down from hers lifted his head and fixed a pair of shimmering blue eyes her way.
A boot kicked the back of her cage. “Pipe down.”
Mistel kept going. “Woe to the realms as they turn from the light. Following darkness and evil delight.”
The straw-chewing guard stormed over, his boots sharp on the floor. “Stop that!”
She met his glare and sang louder. “Their emperors scheme and sorcerers teem. Woe, woe to the Five.”
He pounded his fist against the top of her cage, rattling the bars. “I said stop!”
She paused long enough to say, “Don’t like my voice?”
“Get her, Veek,” said a voice behind her.
“Yeah, teach her a lesson,” said another.
Veek reached between the bars, clawing for her.
“No!” Mistel shrank back and gave her very best performance. “Don’t hurt me!”
His fingers caught her hair and yanked her forward until her face struck the bars.
Pain shot through her cheekbone, but Mistel gritted her teeth and reached for his belt.
Her hand found his keys, and with a flick of her wrist, she slipped them off his belt, holding them tightly to keep them from clinking.
She drew them into her cage and tucked them beneath the folds of her skirt.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll be quiet.”
Veek released her. “You’d better. Where you’re going, if you pull stunts like that, you’ll get worse than I just gave you.”
As he stalked away, Mistel slumped back into the straw, her heart racing. She wondered again who had purchased her and where she was headed.
It didn’t matter. The keys were hers now. As soon as she found the right moment, she was getting out of here.
She glanced around the warehouse again. The guards. The exits. The stacks of crates and cages. She didn’t know the layout of this place or how many obstacles stood between her and freedom, but she knew one thing. She wouldn’t leave here as someone else’s property.
Not tonight. Not ever.