The auctioneer smirks. “A freebie, bonus with purchase.”
“Get her out of the way. She’s blockin my view of the pretty slave. And untie her neck so I can touch it.”
The auctioneer rolls his eyes. “For quadruple the stein, I’ll do it.”
The being produces money, and I’m unceremoniously d
ragged from the dais, and tossed to the floor at the auctioneer’s feet. He kicks me. “Stay,” he warns, his voice vicious, “until you’re needed, unless you want a dagger through your throat.” He kicks my face again for good measure.
My side burns and I think maybe he’s broken a rib with his boot, but I right myself and try to stand. Maybe there’s still a chance to save her. At least in the fracas my hands have come free of the coarse rope.
Now they’re reaching out, touching Enya: her face, her hair, her hands. When someone reaches for her breasts, I lose it.
“No!” I roar, and with all my might, I stab at the closest being hard, in the place where his thighs meet his body, and twist.
He goes down with a high-pitched scream so violent and sudden that I almost reel in surprise, and I stab again and again until suddenly I’m at the dais, and there’s Enya.
“Come on,” I shout.
“I’m injured! Fetch a medic!”
The one I stabbed first in the gonads is in agony, and the crowd around rumbles and pushes.
And for a split second, the attention is off Enya.
It’s hardly the graceful thing I had hoped for, but I grab her, her hands still bound, and then stumble, the pain in my ribs making me tear up. “Oh, Mother Earth.” I manage to get my cape off and toss it over her head. “Run,” I urge her. “I’ll…”
The pain in my side is a knife of fire. “Just go,” I wheeze, falling to my knees.
“No. Not without you. If you want to save me, you save yourself,” she orders me, her voice stronger than I’ve ever heard it.
She stands still and my heart freezes. “Enya,” I start. “My leg.”
“Zina, we go together or not at all.” She pulls at my hands. “I’m not losing the only family I know.”
There’s no time to argue, so I force myself to my feet, and dizzy with the pain, stagger beside her. “As soon as they notice us, I’ll create a distraction,” I gasp. When I touch my mouth, it comes away with blood. I wipe it on my breeches and a sudden surge of need gives me energy.
“This way.” I pull her arm toward the wall, where there are no daises with slaves and the crowd is thinner. Beings are still rushing toward the place where Enya was, and then a cry—“She’s escaped! Find her!”
“Mother Earth, we must hurry.” I swallow a mouthful of blood, iron and earth. “Enya.”
Adrenaline dulls the pain and together we weave and dart, and it’s like we’re back in the fields on Ocretia, doing the training I created. It’s almost beautiful how we work together, and soon we’re almost at the door.
We dodge a pair of Ocretions, only to run directly into two hard chests.
“Pardon,” I mutter, putting up my hand, keeping my eyes down. “Excuse us.”
Enya’s well-hidden under the voluminous cloak, and if we can just get past these two, we will have line of sight to the airfield—
“No. Wait.”
The first of the two speaks, his voice deep and commanding. “Let me see your faces.”
“Keep going,” I whisper to Enya, and we try to sidestep.
The second one grabs our arms, his hands so large and powerful that even my muscular bicep is like a twig in his fingers. “I said, let me see your faces.”
He pulls up my chin. Horrified, I gaze at his face, which is silver and purple, warty. A Mauk. His eyes, though, don’t match the other Mauks I’ve encountered. They seem far more intelligent, inquisitive. Interesting color, too.