Chapter 14
Fourteen
W e travelled all that night, heading deeper into Misophae territory. Vaelor lay barely conscious on the floor of the cage, and I huddled by his side, knowing he’d eventually heal but wishing there was some way I might help him.
When we stopped to water the horses, the hedge witch came to my cage. She wore hand-woven clothes and a necklace of demon teeth. Flowers adorned her dark hair. She held out a waterskin. I wasn’t too proud to take it and drink.
“You differ from the other humans we have taken into captivity,” she said.
“Why do you say that?”
“I’m unsure, but I sense something about you.”
“You’re wrong. I’m nothing.” I was incapable of anything. I couldn’t heal Vaelor, couldn’t help us escape. Useless.
She took the waterskin from me, her expression suspicious. “Say what you will, but my instincts are rarely off.”
I wanted to throw something at her. How dare she come and taunt me in my captivity? I sat back, refusing to respond to her more.
She didn’t appear fazed. “Perhaps I’ll tell Namar not to sell you for too low a price.”
“What… do you want with me?” Vaelor asked, his voice full of pain.
The hedge witch laughed. “You don’t know? There are spells and magic that use spirits to bring about dark, powerful purposes.”
“You mean… use me in sacrificial spells.”
“It'll be painful.” Her smile grew as a cold delight shone in her eyes. “Even for a spirit.”
Vaelor’s lip curled. “Go to hell.”
The hedge witch only laughed again before walking off. I watched her go, anger clutched in my chest. “Gods, I wish I had powers so I could cast page ten on her.”
“Page ten?” Vaelor asked.
“It's a spell from the hedge witch book I’m reading.”
His eyes closed briefly in agony as he lay unmoving upon the wagon floor. “What are you… doing with a hedge witch book?”
“I might ask you the same question. I had the impression that demons don’t take hedge witch magic seriously.”
His expression darkened. “Many don’t. However, a few of us are aware of its power. Some secretly—or not so secretly—employ them like the slavers, giving them an advantage over other demons.” Even as he spoke, his voice sounded strained.
In a short while, the wagon began moving again. I unwrapped my arm to check the wound from my bite marks. The wound appeared mostly healed so I left it unwrapped and cast aside the binding.
Over the next several hours, two out of three of Vaelor’s wounds healed much faster than my arm, though he didn’t rise. It was odd watching them close. The lack of blood was the strangest of all.
“Forgive me. I have failed you,” Vaelor muttered.
“How have you failed me? Wasn’t I supposed to be your tool to find you a body?” Gods, I shouldn’t care, but I did.
Whether he was sacrificed or claimed by the Final Proving's time limit, I couldn't bear the thought of this raging, monstrous demon disappearing from the world.
“That is what I told myself.”
“But?” I whispered.
“It doesn’t matter. This was inevitable. I thought you might be immune. I thought that because you were… Fuck, I don’t know. I assumed you’d be different.”
“Different from what? I don’t understand.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated. I hated the despair in his voice.
I lay next to him, the wings on his back extended a little, enveloping us, though they were transparent so they didn’t completely hide us from view.
We needed to escape. But after so many failed attempts, I didn’t know what might work at this point. And the hedge witch added an unknown element, not to mention the finger around the slaver’s neck that controlled Vaelor.
I sighed. “We need to devise a plan,” I whispered. There were numerous variables that needed to come together, but I had no idea how to make them fit.
“Denara, relax. Go to sleep. All the confounding factors you’re trying to sort through will be there in the morning.”
He was right. I grasped his hand and held it between our bodies.
It was perhaps a terrible thought, but I was glad Vaelor was here with me.
When they took me last time, they had split me and Gerand up almost immediately, and I didn’t locate Mira until later.
It had been terrifying being shoved into a cage with others I hardly knew.
Vaelor was becoming, for all his flaws, familiar and comforting.
I curled into him without fully touching him. “Good night, Vaelor.”
“Sleep well, Denara.”
The next day I awoke to Vaelor crouched at the bars, his body healed.
Frustration was etched on his face, as he no doubt ran over the same factors I had last night, trying to find a way to freedom.
But these slavers had experience and were far from stupid.
Each demon or human they took to sell was hoping to escape, so they had taken precautions to ensure that we couldn’t.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Like a fly caught in a spider’s web.”
“I meant pain-wise.”
His expression softened a tad. “I feel fine, Denara.”
“You didn’t have to do all that last night.”
“Do what?”
“Protect me from the slavers. Try to get me out alive.”
He didn’t answer, and I realized I was wrong. I was coming to learn that Vaelor did have to fight for me because he was someone who protected others.
“I suppose I fail to grasp why someone like me would deserve your… sacrifice,” I murmured. “Especially after everything I have done to you. Taken from you.”
“And what about what was taken from you?”
“You didn’t take those things. Others did.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but the wagons came to a sudden halt.
We had joined up with a few other wagons during the night, and we were now a full-fledged slave train.
Huge cages towered over our small one, some with demons, but most with humans—many of whom had a dead, lifeless stare that made my heart twist. None were clean or well-kept, though that said more about the demons that kept them than the humans themselves.
“Are we watering the beasts this early?” I asked about the stalled train.
“I have no idea,” Vaelor responded.
Rising, I eased next to him and looked out through the bars. We were in the middle of the line of wagons. With the greater number of slaves came the increased stench—urine and feces and blood mixing into one massive stink. It radiated around us and soured my stomach.
A large demon with a human’s body, a leopard’s face, and sizable antlers extending from his head walked down the row with Namar.
The leopard-headed demon wore fine, cleanly woven clothes.
Clearly, he possessed money. He and Namar paused at each wagon, peering inside before moving along to the next one.
I stared at the finger tied around the slave dealer’s neck.
It was bloody and fleshy. If only I could get my hands on it, Vaelor would set us free.
They came to our wagon. The leopard-headed demon looked me over and then regarded Vaelor, his eyes widening in shock. “What is this? A spirit?”
“Yes, a rare find. I already have a buyer in mind for him. Only the girl is for sale.”
Vaelor’s gaze darkened at the news.
The potential buyer advanced a step closer, looking me up and down, and I shrank away, pulling my shoulders in, hoping he’d pass by.
He stepped aside and turned to the dealer. “I’ll take her. What price are you asking?”
My heart sank. No.
“Ah, that one is special,” Namar said.
“Don’t play games, and I’ll give you a fair price,” snapped the leopard-headed demon.
“You dare buy her,” Vaelor snarled from his cage. “And I will rip out and feast on every organ in your body.”
“Pipe down, you,” the dealer called, the finger jiggling on his chest. Gods, I needed that talisman so Vaelor and I could escape.
“Don’t fight,” I whispered to him, worried the slaver might hurt him if he kept going. “There’s nothing you can do.”
Within seconds, they struck a deal, and money exchanged hands.
“There are a few extra items we found in her possession, if you’d like them?”
The leopard-headed demon nodded. “I'll pay for the items.”
More money passed between them, and the slaver sent a servant to fetch my possessions.
Namar fumbled with the keys at his waist and walked up to the cage. I straightened, my gaze never leaving the bloodied talisman. This was my chance. I had to get it off of him.
The cage door opened.
Vaelor stood close to me, fury in his gaze. I could tell he wanted to attack, but Namar had commanded him not to touch anyone, and the order still stood. The slaveholder reached in and took my arm. My hands flexed at my sides, but I went with him as I stepped down.
And launched myself at Namar.
He released a surprised cry as I bowled into him, and we both fell to the earth with me on top.
I attempted to strike out with my right hand while my left fumbled for the finger.
I struck Namar across the face, my nails leaving gouges in his skin.
Namar snarled, his fist connecting hard with my head, knocking me off him and into the dirt.
The world spun, and I tried to steady my vision.
Vaelor was swearing and raging from the cage.
Namar’s blood and flesh packed the creases beneath my nails, but my fingers curled around aching emptiness. I didn’t have the talisman.
Namar turned on me, a deadly rage visible in his eyes. He pinned me against the ground. An angry snarl escaped him, and he raised his hand, ready to strike again. The uncontrolled anger in his expression told me I wouldn’t be sold. I was about to be killed.
The leopard-headed demon stepped up and jangled the heavy bag of coins tied to his waist. “If you stay your hand, I‘ll pay double for her.”
Namar released another snarl, bloodlust plastered across his face as he swiped at the red scratch marks. “Triple,” he spat.
“Done,” the buyer said.
Namar released me and rose. “You”—he pointed at a nearby underling—“get her bound before I tear her to shreds.”
The underling nodded. “Yes, Namar, sir.”
My head pounded. My rush of adrenaline mixed with disappointment as I was pulled to my feet and my hands were bound with ropes, my failure tasting like acid on my tongue.