She had no idea of how long they traveled, but by the time the carriage pulled to a stop, the strong daylight had faded into the tinges of a setting sun. The temperature was dropping with the sun. Night would fall soon.
The rear end of the carriage was pulled open. Kaydee recognized the driver as one of the men she had fought with. He stepped into the carriage, unlocking ankle shackles between the two rows before he pulled one row by a length of chain.
“Come,” he said.
The row across from her stood up and moved as a unit. Kaydee saw then that the ankle shackles were a part of the carriage, probably to keep everyone from moving. The people in front of her still wore wrist shackles. The heavy chain lengths allowed them to form a single-person line. Chains linked from each shackle to the person in front and behind the other. The prisoners, as Kaydee thought of them all as, only had enough room to move in a straight line. The heavy chain between each person dictated how much room they had to move, and if they did not function as a solid unit, the person who lagged behind the rest pulled at the people they were attached to.
“Shut up with your crying,” the man snapped at a girl who couldn’t have been older than twelve.
When she didn’t stop fast enough to satisfy him, he took the riding crop he used on his horse and snapped it at her. She yelped, but her crying simpered down to a low whimpering.
“Second row, get out,” he said, without any concern for the girl.
The row Kaydee was sitting in stood up. She moved with them, her heart pounding unpleasantly. It was hard to keep up with the exact rhythm of the others’ steps at first and she heard the woman behind her protest quietly, too quietly for the man to hear.
Kaydee was right about being near an ocean. As they emerged from the crude carriage, she glanced around. They were at a port of some sort. A large ship that looked like a Spanish galleon was docked and people were running back and forth, from the wooden dock to the ship. Was she going to have to get on board this ship? Her stomach cramped unpleasantly. She had to find the other Shadow Assassins. She had no idea of who these people were or why they wanted to sell her, but she had to find a way to get out of this position.
Before she could think of any way, the man had the two rows of prisoners line up side by side. Anyone who talked out of turn or cried received a smack of his riding crop.
“Dalen,” called a man approaching from the ship. He was a heavyset man in a torn tunic. He had combed his hair in a horrid style that attempted to cover a growing bald spot. In the evening light, his red hair seemed to be on fire when the sun hit it.
“Thomas, there you are,” the man, Dalen, said as he looked up. When he met the gaze of the approaching man, he looked friendlier than he did when he faced the prisoners.
“Are these them?” the man called Thomas asked.
“Yes, ten in all.”
“Better be a good ten, for all the risk I’m taking for this shit,” Thomas spat on the ground to show his displeasure. “Had to break away from the pod. If I’m lucky, I can catch back up with the other ships.”
“Seafarers are heading west now, aren’t they?”
Thomas grumbled his answer, adding something about losing time and traveling in the opposite direction. He glanced at the two rows. “Let’s see what they can do.”
The man called Dalen agreed and headed to the front of the cart. He pulled out heavy sets of longer chain links and two iron rings. The first person from each line was unchained and around their necks went the iron rings. Like dogs, the two people were collared and chained to the crude cart, given the ability to use their arms and legs, but still unable to run.
The heavyset Thomas spoke. “The two of you will fight. If you refuse, you will be punished. Go.”
The two would-be opponents glanced at each other. It was a mismatch. One was a girl who looked sixteen; the other was a woman in her mid-forties. They didn’t look like they had any fighting ability at all.
When they hesitated, Thomas pulled a long, thin whip from his belt and cracked it at the two. “Fight, I said!”
It took another crack of the whip to get either of them moving. The teenage girl had her back licked by impatient, snapping leather. She snapped forward mostly out of surprise, but tackled the woman in front of her.
It was a pathetic sight to see, Kaydee thought. The older woman looked like she was supposed to be a motherly figure. It pained her to take on the teenage girl, the pain obvious on her face. Unfortunately, if they refused to fight, they would receive another crack from the whip, if not worse. The teenage girl held out her hand and a beam of energy manifested. The energy glowed a light pink color, but it flickered in and out of view, as if the girl was greatly weakened. The energy formed into the vague form of a sword. She used this weapon against the woman she faced. The woman fought back with an energy sword of her own. Her energy was the color of the forest, but also weak and flickering like her opponent.
“Immortals without their familiars are weak creatures,” Thomas mused to Dalen. The two men observed the chained women as if they were watching some sports match.
“They would not comply until their familiars were killed. Over time, their Immortal powers will be so weakened that they will barely be more powerful than an ordinary mortal human.” Dalen spat on the ground, echoing his companion’s way of showing disgust. “This is about the only thing they’re good for now, with such a shortened lifespan and power limit.”
Kaydee could barely stand to watch the fight, but it was hard to ignore the grunts of pain and protests. Eventually, a winner had been decided. The teenage girl had effectively knocked the older woman out. She lurched back, panting, looking horrified with herself.
At this, Dalen went back to the front of the crude carriage and took out another set of chain. This he needed Thomas’s help with. The two men unloaded another set of shackles and chain. The teenage girl was transferred to this new length of chain and the older woman was woken up and made to stand. She was chained back in her original spot, with the others.
On it went. The next two were selected and made to fight, then the next two after. Some of them looked ready to fight; some had to be coerced with violence. Kaydee could see that each person selected had some sort of power. Mages were more powerful than Immortals, for instance. A mage who could wield fire as a weapon easily overpowered an Immortal who could barely summon an energy weapon. Each victor was transferred to the new length of chain and shackles.
Kaydee’s turn was up next. She felt like vomiting as she was forced into the iron collar. The ring of metal weighed her down, made her feel awkward and bulky. The person she had to fight was a boy who looked only a few years younger than she was. His fear had turned to anger when he saw that fighting was the only option he had. Once Thomas instructed them to start, the boy came at her, fast.
She gave a startled yell and reached into her powers. They were standing on a grassy field, so she used the grass to her advantage. It swelled and thickened with sudden growth and life, turning from something that was only ankle-deep to stand in to something taller than her head. Her opponent was lost in a sudden growth of grass before he swiped at it angrily with an energy sword that still shone strong, despite the Immortal’s lack of a familiar. The grass burned as pure magical energy swept through it.
Kaydee again reached into her earth-based powers, reaching for energy reserves she felt deep in the earth under her feet. Vines grew at her influence and wrapped around the boy, keeping him from advancing any further. He shouted in anger, struggling. She backed up from him, tripping over the chain that held her captive.
“She will not fight,” Dalen muttered. “She did something similar to us when we captured her.”
“Oh, I’ll make her fight.” Thomas cracked the whip at her. “Quit fucking around!”
The harsh language hit first, then the pain. She screamed when the leather bit into her flesh. It was enough to break her concentration and the Immortal she was fighting pitched forward. He char
ged at her again.
She figured it would be easiest to end this fast, without anyone getting hurt. She called upon the vines again. They shot up from the ground and again captured the boy. While he struggled, they tightened around him, weaving tightly around his chest and neck.
Tears formed in Kaydee’s eyes as she went against every instinct she had and forced the vines to choke her opponent. She hated the disgusting, gurgling sounds he made, but she only held him captive until he passed out. Once he had, she released his body to the ground.
Dalen said nothing as he dragged the boy back to the line of the losers. The boy didn’t wake up but more gurgling noises came from his mouth.
Thomas moved closer to move Kaydee to the chain of victors. When she was again shackled by the wrists, she began crying in earnest. She couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop it either, even after Dalen came back and smacked her with his crop.
“Let her cry, she’s already won,” Thomas snapped, impatient for the last fight to happen. Once the last fight was over and the last winner was declared and re-chained, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag that jingled.
“Two hundred for the winners,” Dalen said instantly, eying the bag greedily.
“Two hundred is barely what I’d get in betting on them in the real thing!” was the incredulous reply.
The two haggled over prices and Kaydee paused in her sobbing, fear overriding the tears. Did he just say the real thing? Did that mean that this wasn’t even the start of what she had to face? She didn’t want to fight anyone; she just wanted to find her friends. Instead, she was being sold like a slave to a stranger who would pull her further away from her friends!
Dalen and Thomas finally agreed on their price and golden coins were exchanged. Dalen held the coins with obvious satisfaction before he pocketed them. They jingled in his pocket when he moved back to the five he was left with.
“Nice doing business with you,” he said, bowing to Thomas.
“You give the Gypsa a bad name, with the prices you deal in,” was the only reply he received. With that, Thomas turned back to the line Kaydee was in, instructing them to follow him. Stragglers received a crack of the whip he held.
Please help me, Kaydee found herself pleading to no one in particular. Someone, please help me. I’m going to die, here.
Far outside the continent of Aurialis, a man sat in his stone house. Outside his window, the sea crashed unpleasantly as it always did in Siiati territory. Siiati, the sea-witch colony, as it was called, always had a perpetual angry ocean outside. It was part of the magic of the Isle Dark, magic that kept the sea witches from escaping the continent and going back to Aurialis.
The man was inside his own home, yet he still wore the traveling cloak he had been out in. The hood was up, keeping his face in shadow. The only distinguishing thing about him that was visible was the large pewter dragon pendant on a long chain around his neck. The annoying ice mage Leta who always seemed to hang around him wanted him to have the dragon pendant. He took it mostly to get her to stop talking, but also because he liked anything to do with dragons. It appeased her enough to get her to stop talking to him.
His attention was now focused on an aura he felt, one too similar to his own. The aura was too far away to track properly, somewhere on the continent Aurialis, but he could feel the aura as a small breath of air. If he was correct, then that meant one thing.
Kaydee was somewhere in the Second Realm.
For what reason, he did not know, but he sensed she was in danger. He couldn’t have that at all.
He stood up from the ornate wooden chair he had been sitting at and headed out of his house. Maybe the annoying ice mage Leta could help him in identifying where Kaydee was.
Chapter Eight
This woman was going to shoot him. Marco knew this but he didn’t know why. He was obviously human – he had no pointed fairy-like ears like she did. He was just a normal, ordinary human...with the advantage of some advanced telekinetic powers.
“I’m human,” he said to her slowly, as if trying to calm an attacking animal down.
“How do I know this for sure?” the woman demanded. Her bright eyes blazed. Green like the forest around her, they promised that she would shoot him with her vicious looking arrows, more of which were on the quiver she wore.
“Because I’m not like you?” he asked. “The ears, I mean. Not the same.”
Her eyes blazed with anger, as if she found his answer insulting. He hadn’t meant for it to be, he just didn’t know how to answer her logically. Did she want him to provide a blood test or something? It wasn’t as though he carried proof of his species on his person.
Relief flooded through him as she lowered the bow and arrow she wielded. He kept his hands up, though, to show her that he wasn’t a threat and wasn’t going to use one of the weapons he was packing.
“What are you,” she said flatly, coming closer to him.
“Human, just like I said,” he spoke quickly, as to not anger her with a slow reply. She had already shot at him once for hesitating.
She stepped in closer to him, causing him to back up a step. The strange woman was suddenly in his face, her forest-bright eyes searching him over as though she could dissect him where he stood just with her eyes.
“You are not dressed like the humans I see,” she murmured.
She was much too close for his liking. It wasn’t that he felt threatened by her. At least, he wasn’t threatened as long as she wasn’t aiming a weapon his way. She was much too close for another reason though, and that was her beauty. She was much more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen. That was a tall order to fill, when it came to Marco's tastes. Kaleb poked fun at his voracious appetite for beautiful women, followed by a more obvious talent of being unable to obtain a good number of them. He was goofy and awkward, at least, that’s what Evangeline bluntly told him.
He wanted to impress the woman in front of him. Her ethereal beauty was in the fine structure of her face. High, ivory cheekbones colored with her anger and confusion and those eyes still blazed. She was not of the women he had seen on a routine basis. She was not of this world; or at least, the world he knew.
With no warning at all, the woman reached out for him, her hands dropping the weapons she held to the forest floor. Long, elegant fingers grasped his arms and pulled him closer...as her lips dropped to his.
The kiss made everything else fade away. One moment, he was in a forest. The next moment, he knew of nothing but the kiss. Her lips were soft and sweet and warm – and gone from his much too soon.
He lurched back from her, staring with wide eyes.
“You do not react as a faerie does,” she said, her own eyes widening in wonder.
“A what?” he asked, his voice a breathy gasp.
“A faerie. The tricksters that inhabit this forest. They are why I questioned what you were. They take the form of others. Elves are supposed to be immune to their charms, but I was not sure if that was true or not.”
Did she just say elf? He asked himself.
“I am an elf,” she said, as if sensing his question. She bent to pick up the fallen weapons before she spoke again, “From the Oraldine colony.”
He had no inkling as to the colony she spoke of, but he nodded anyway. “How would a faerie react when compared to me?”
At this, her ivory skin colored, but this time it was not from anger. “Sexually. The faeries take their victims out here, those who are tricked into thinking that a friend or another stranger seduced them. Afterward, the victims are routinely eaten and disposed of.”
She spoke with the savagery as if it was another part of everyday life, albeit one that shamed her.
“And you risked that just to see if I was one of them?” he asked, incredulous.
“I had to be sure.”
He frowned in disapproval. This woman before him didn’t seem like one to wantonly give into sexual desire. She seemed to be the total opposite in f
act, modest and hesitant to explain the savage ways of the creatures that inhabited this forest.
“This forest can drive one mad,” she added, seeing his frown. “Several of my brothers were lost in this forest, only to go mad from the trickery of the faeries. It is not wise to be here longer than absolutely necessary.”
“Well, I got lost in here too. If you’re looking for the way out, why don’t we travel together?”
It was a bold proposal to give the woman who had been threatening his life only moments before. She didn’t seem to be a danger to him anymore, with him having proven that he wasn’t one of the killer creatures she spoke of, but it was still a risky move.
She nodded. “I know this part of the Feynid forest well enough for us to leave.”
“Feynid,” he echoed. “Is that where we are?”
She nodded. “You are not from this region, are you?”
“Try this realm,” he said with a smirk.
The two began their journey out of the forest. As they did, Marco filled her in on who he was and where he came from. She seemed thrilled by the thought of a modern First Realm. She asked him to describe it and he tried not to sound so cynical or demeaning. He mentioned that there was still war but it was fought with weapons far more deadly than her bow and arrow. He touched on how women were confident and strong, taking to less traditional roles as head of house and having an independent job outside of the family. These small things that seemed so average to him seemed beyond what she had access to now. While she was no doubt confident and strong, he had a feeling that she would still be married to a man who thought the sun and moon shone out of his ass and that he could deny the world of either if he wished.
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