26. Esther #2
I might have no one on my side, but I will never let a piece of shit like this, or anyone else who might come after me, even touch me.
His grubby hand stretches out, and before I offer my singular chant, a heat burns at my chest, and a rock flies into his stomach, flinging him across the room and against another cage.
The green catlike beast hooks its elongated claws into the man, ripping the side of his neck with its fangs.
The man’s screams curdle, blood pooling onto the floor as guards run to his side. The rock that slammed into his chest quickly dissolves into loose dirt on the ground as if it never existed.
I wrap my hands around the open cage door, inconspicuously closing it again as the tent fills with men. The man goes limp in the beast’s mouth as other guards zap and prod their magic-infused sticks, pushing it into the corner of its cage.
“Someone clean up this mess!” Roulen kicks the dead man’s boot. My hand grasps the talisman Regent gave me, the faint whisp of his magic lingering from the attack.
“Wear this. Trust me.” My brows dip in confusion. If he only cared about getting rid of me, then why would he go to such lengths to keep me safe?
“A lock picker, ’ey?” another guard says, coming to stop in front of my cage. “Let’s take this one next. She’s a crafty one.” Another three men come to stand around my cage, looking in.
My heart beats through my chest, that fight-or-flight instinct fueling my blood, and oh how it’s a welcome friend.
I shove at my magic, an internal debate sparks as I push it away from eating at me some more.
I stopped resisting it under the repers enchantment, but now it is to work at my bidding again.
It blossoms like a beautiful flower, neither dissuaded nor grateful to serve a master once more.
Only ever satisfied when it’s used for crafting chaos.
My invisible chains pick up on two of the men before me, identifying them as fire greers.
My odds of escaping are limited, even if I tap into the water greers magic from outside.
I have no idea what the layout of the auctions is like, and I can sense past these two the other security measures that are in place.
Volmere seems like a clever greer, who undoubtedly has contingency plans for items or beasts that attempt to go astray or escape. If I want to get out of this alive, I have to be smart. And so, I choose to willingly go with them.
I follow while my invisible chains slither against the tent, constantly bouncing back by the enchantments in place. Even if I wanted to break through them by force, the complexities of the enchantments could take me longer to escape in precious time.
Four guards surround me, my chains dragging behind me.
My magic teases the beasts as we walk past, rousing them.
I consider whether I might be able to control them like I did the birdlike creatures that I recently learned are called croons.
But I immediately disregard the thought when the repers come to mind.
I don’t want to touch that kind of darkness ever again.
“Do not play with magic you do not understand.” Master Kain’s message came through loud and clear.
All his lessons up until this point are beginning to make sense.
It’s never just been about raw power and strength; the facets of surviving this world and the pull of Felia’s influence depend solely on me making conscious and enlightened decisions.
A guard with glazed eyes opens the tent flap, and my hand immediately rises, trying to block out the brutal sun.
I’m shoved onto a stage, my invisible chains overwhelmed by the magic surrounding me as the crowd collectively gasps, quickly followed by groans of disappointment and some “oohs” of intrigue.
Greers and even humans fill the stands.
When my eyes adjust, I notice that some greers have taken on beast-like physical modifications, either from curses or self-mutilation.
Some wear masks and hoods hanging low to hide their identity.
Dark magic thrives among the crowd, feasting off the buzzing energy.
Some sit in pairs, some alone and others with entourages.
“Now, now,” Volmere coos to her audience. “I know what you’re thinking,” she says, bringing down the hammer to the stand. The moment the hammer hits, everyone falls silent. “Why is this small red-haired beauty standing before you, here?”
A gust of wind magic sweeps up my back, forcing me to step forward. My invisible chains seek out Regent’s magic, but he’s no longer among the crowd.
Has he already retrieved what he needed?
Has he already left?
“Red radiant hair, glowing skin. Furthermore, ladies, gentlemen, and greers, I give you the lost and last… omni greer.” Her words echo, and whispers begin among the crowd, and unlike before, when I was unfazed by my identity being called out, it rattles me now.
I must survive.
“Prove it!” a greer shouts.
“I do not barter with the likes of anyone during my auctions,” Volmere replies, her eyes narrowing on the man who is quick to take his seat again, silently.
“But reputation is important to me, of course. My word is the truth. Starting bid is one hundred gold.” Her hand sweeps out in a grand gesture.
One of my invisible chains hooks onto Regent’s magic, rolling in its familiarity and comfort. I keep my expression neutral, surprised to find him near the tent I’d just come from, but his magic is quietening into a dull pulse.
What is he up to?
“Prove it!” another man demands. The auctioneer hisses, more beast than greer.
The man is suddenly attacked by her beast, the two-headed snakelike beast biting into him, poison oozing.
His screams last only a few seconds as others step away, and he suddenly melts, his skin caving in as he crumbles into a heap of sizzling ash.
His neighbors only seem inconvenienced as they brush over their clothes, the snake slithering at the feet of the other buyers.
“Since we have such a lively audience today, of course, I’m happy to accommodate,” Volmere hums with her exotic accent. “A small display may seem appropriate. Come along, girl. Show us.”
My eyebrows dip. “I don’t—”
“Show us,” she demands. My hands become clammy. Does she truly know what I am? That this isn’t a ruse? I look back at the crowd, my eyes sweeping to find an exit.
“Count to five, girl,” Volmere says so quietly that only I can hear.
Her slitted eyes narrow, and I begin to count.
“One.” Did they think I was chanting a spell?
“Two.” A slice of wind magic comes toward me from the side.
“Thr—” A stone erupts from the amulet Regent gifted me, shooting toward the wind greer who sent the wind magic in my direction.
The guard is quick to deflect the stone, and it flies over the heads of the crowd.
Some even duck, their jaws dropping. A flame bursts in front of me, crackling overhead like fireworks.
I understand then, as I notice the curve of Volmere’s black lips. It’s all an act as she forces other greers to use their magic, feigning that it’s coming from me.
“Four.”
These people are idiots. My kind don’t require a long-winded chant, but knowledge of my kind is scarce, especially after they were wiped out.
“Five.” A vortex of water wraps around me, and I make eye contact with the greer in the crowd as she quietly chants, unbeknownst to others around her, and the water freezes into an ice barrier.
A shaky cold puff escapes me as I press my hand against my reflection. I lost weight, my natural glow and supple cheeks withdrawn, and I look as if I’ve aged years.
Is this what is left of me after allowing my magic to eat me alive for the last week? Have I really spiraled so deeply, and only awoken now, perhaps to a point where it’s too late? My throat marking burns, and I shove Grimace down. I failed us. But no more.
Fuck the Fates, and fuck the repers.
Fuck Dahlia and the men who will follow.
I will fight for us.
The talisman between my breasts heats, and Regent’s magic forces out a stone wall, shattering the ice around me, shards glistening against the sun as they fall around me.
Volmere’s eyes narrow on my chest, unable to see the talisman beneath my leather coat, but she’s powerful enough to sense or suspect it.
Slow clapping begins amid the crowd, and a woman with black hair, pale white skin, and wearing a deep red dress, yells, “One hundred and fifty gold.”
“One hundred and seventy gold,” another quickly follows.
The bids continue to increase, creating a frenzied war, my heart pounding with every coin that goes up as I consider my options as to how I’m going to escape this situation.
The woman wearing the deep red dress is beautifully bewitching, but her magic pulses in dark waves. What dark deeds has this greer done to have such an odious stench to her wind magic?
Her main competitor is a man who sneers every time her bid rises. What appears to be numerous guards standing around him glare at the woman in their master’s stead, as if it were beneath him to even look her in the face.