26. Esther
ESTHER
Over the next week, I barely sleep, still haunted by the repers’ chants whenever I close my eyes. Regent has hardly spoken, and I keep my distance, even during the times he tries to initiate conversation.
Since the repers, my magic has also not been the same. I startle at any sudden noise or movement, and my magic seems more focused on eating away at me rather than sensing the danger outside.
I was an idiot for thinking I’d be able to defy the natural laws. Retrospectively, once my binding started to come undone, this was always the inevitable.
The Volmere auctions appear impressive in scale, though we only go as far as a large tent on the outskirts of the commotion. Regent reapplies the shackles he first fitted me with. I’m to be sold in only a few hours, all my worth valued in beauty, which feels poorly placed.
The golden tent that glistens against the morning light looks grand from the outside, but when we enter, it does very little justice for the space that’s grander inside.
Beasts within cages squeal and squawk. Some slither, others bang against metal bars as they lunge for us when we walk past and are thrown back by a magical barrier.
The tent rolls with different tendrils of magic, my own piqued with curiosity before turning in on me again.
When I woke this morning Grimace returned to the marking at my throat, and even with gentle encouragement, he would not come out; it brings me little comfort to know that we are in this together.
No matter what happens going forward, when I feel like my magic is close to consuming what’s left of me, I’ll cast him from the marking.
Numerous wooden chests wrapped in magic are stacked against a wall. An ominous, foreboding energy leaks from them, and I presume enchanted items are sealed inside. In a place like this, more than likely randor blades are included.
One thing is distinctly clear: dark magic is prominent amid this auction. Neina and those who follow her on the path of light are known for their righteousness and peaceful living. Those who follow Felia favor raw power and strength. On the black market, the latter is much more valued.
Regent’s face is twisted into his mask as he’s approached by a greer.
Her silver eyes are slitted, closer to a snake’s than a human’s.
A sizable beast slithers behind her, with two snake heads as it hisses and licks at the air.
Her markings cover half her face and down her shoulder and arm.
Whatever the beast is capable of, it must be strong for her to have such a large marking.
Dark fire magic swirls around the greer as she charms a smile, her black lipstick cracking when she spots Regent.
Men around her busily work at her command.
“My, my, I didn’t think I’d see you here so soon, old man.
What brings you to my auction this year?
You know the price is steep to be welcomed,” she says in a thick, elusive accent.
Her long black dress shimmers in the light from the sun that cascades into the tent.
I warily watch the beast behind her, who studies me carefully.
The greer draws a puff from a long pipe, the tip of it burning hot crystal coals, as purple smoke rises to the top of the tent. Perhaps this is an enchantment to keep her men under control. Or to make sure nothing uninvited enters, and nothing is able to leave.
“Hello, Volmere. I am offering an earth greer for today’s auctions as an entry fee to look at the merchandise.”
Volmere clicks her tongue. “Earth magic, who can’t these days? I already have five beasts today that are inclined to such magic. And they’re beasts. Not puny little girls.” She casts a dismissive glare toward me.
A large catlike beast with green fur and black stripes paces back and forth in the cage beside us. Its sharp, dark green claws look overgrown, curling into its paws as it becomes disgruntled in the presence of her snakelike beast.
“Little greer, take off your hood,” Regent instructs. I do as he says, my red braid spilling over my shoulder.
“Red,” she says with admiration. “Come here, girl.”
“Are your own feet broken?” I bite back.
Regent tenses as the woman’s smile cracks her black lipstick again. “I do enjoy breaking in new beasts.” Her voice is velvet smooth as she steps forward and grabs my chin, appraising me, clearly more impressed with me now.
Regent watches us both closely, most likely not sure if I’ll kick her across the room or not. I might’ve once. But all that fight is nowhere to be found now.
Her long black nails coil around the strands that frame my face, and I resist the urge to slap her hand away.
“So precious. Her skin is porcelain. Long legs. A little gaunt, but buyers won’t care,” she says.
“I’ve already heard of such a description.
” She looks at Regent pointedly. “However, I know I can acquire a far higher price than any bounty on this girl’s head.
Did you know that royalty among the omni greers were known for their beauty and red hair? ”
My stomach drops.
Does this auctioneer see through me?
Does she know what I am?
Does it matter?
“Just an earth greer,” I grit out, mixed emotions coming forward. My entire life, I’ve fought against others finding out what I really am, and yet, now that it’s said out in the open, I feel numb to it.
“Insolent,” she hisses. “I cannot market a girl who talks back. What I can market is a long-lost line and heritage. The last omni greer.” She waves her hands in a grand theatrical gesture.
“But you would be lying about the product in question,” Regent interrupts, his gaze looking at me now with something I can’t read or don’t want to further look into. I look away, wanting this to be over with. The sooner he steps away, the better.
“It’s not lying. It’s showmanship. Whether they’re disappointed in the product is on their terms, not mine.” She takes another puff of her pipe and blows it into Regent’s face. “I’ll give you thirty percent of her selling price,” the auctioneer negotiates.
“I’ve earned more from you for a cursed stone,” Regent haggles.
“But she’s only an earth greer, right? This is entirely dependent on my showmanship. It’s a good cut, or nothing at all.”
As if in tandem with her magic, six men stop what they’re doing and circle us, their eyes glazed with a white film.
“Forty percent. And if she doesn’t sell for more than three hundred gold, I’ll forfeit my percentage. I know you enjoy a wager,” he says roguishly.
She taps the pipe to her lips contemplatively.
“I do like a gamble,” she purrs and holds out her slender hand with a suave smile.
Her hand is tarnished, black, and half-decayed.
A former contract with a beast that died under her care, perhaps?
When they shake on it, my heart sinks. “We shall see how much your pretty little imp will sell for. Roulen.” She summons one of her men who doesn’t appear to be under the same enchantment as the rest. “Lock the red beauty in a cage.”
His hand reaches for me, but Regent’s hand springs out, catching it. “Her legs are not broken,” he growls. “She can walk herself.”
“Hmmm,” Volmere purrs. “Are you so sure you’re able to let go of this little prize? What happens to her from now on is none of your business, especially as to whether her legs are or are not broken.”
Regent’s coppery gaze catches mine, and I rebuff him, stepping toward the other man. “My business was never his to begin with.”
I hold my head high, leaning into the weights of the shackles he placed on me as I let the man escort me away and farther into the tent of beasts that I will be sold amongst.
I sense Regent’s gaze on me but resist the urge to look back.
I’m shoved into a cage, where a neighboring beast attempts to scratch through the bars to get to me. I can’t see its form, but again, my magic lazily licks at it, curious of the dark magic before turning back in on itself.
Time passes, and men are doing routine checks throughout the tent to check on the merchandise as it grows rowdier outside. Other beasts are taken before me. Some beasts try to attack the advancement of Volmere’s men, but the moment they do, they’re zapped by magic-infused prodding sticks.
The enchantment over the cages acts as a slow magic eater. It’s obvious from the way some of the beasts are sluggish, some already sagging to the floor in exhaustion.
I can sense greers of all kinds, including a water greer somewhere in the crowd beyond the tent. The congregation where I’m assuming the auctions are held.
I consider connecting with the water greer’s magic.
I could attempt to flee, but even the thought feels trivial, my magic uninterested in the notion as it continues to feast from within.
However, one tendril of my magic is always attached to Regent, who lingers at a distance from the rest. He’s probably waiting for whatever auction item was so important to him to appear.
The tent opening spills sunlight into the dark corner where I was dragged. A guard comes to stop at my cage, this one different from the majority, his brown eyes normal, and pupils dilated but present.
“You are a beauty, aren’t you?” he says, flashing a smile missing more teeth than he owns.
A cold chill runs down my spine, my nails digging into my palms as he pulls a key from his hip pocket to open my cage door.
The beast beside mine grows more restless, its pacing back and forth unsettling as the man opens the door.
“I’m sure I can make the most of the few minutes we have before you’re called on stage. ”
A shot of adrenaline sparks me back to life. It’s men like these I hate the most. Suddenly, every part of me is in the cage, alert and here, no longer under the clutches of the repers or spiraling into decay by my magic.
It’s like an enchantment has been lifted, and the only thing I know about myself to be true reappears. I’m a fighter. I’m a survivor. I’m alone and afraid. And that’s okay.