Page 17 of The Jester

Something stirs in my stomach; the urge to let my gates down and search out Rosalie’s feelings. But what good would that do? I wouldn’t just let hers in, I’d let in the swirling, cacophonous emotions of every soul in the arena.

I am still trying to fight the urge to feel for her when the Gloomweaver launches into a rapid-fire sales pitch, extolling Rosalie’s virtues as a breeder and her abilities as a fire faerie. The crowd grows restless, shouting out bids.

In the end, it is a rotund man with a leering grin and a pair of golden Sunborne wings who claims her, his bid outstripping all others. Rosalie sobs quietly as she is dragged away.

In front of me, Kayan’s shoulders shake as he starts to sob too.

I drop to my knees beside him, my heart breaking for him. “Shh,” I whisper, stroking his hair. “We’ll find a way out of this. We’ll find her.”

But even as I say the words, I know they are hollow. How can we find her when we’re about to be sent to our own version of the hell she is headed for?

As the auction continues, as more of our kin are torn away from us, sold to the highest bidder, a numbness settles over me. This cannot be happening, cannot be real.

Any minute now, I’ll wake up in the cave behind the waterfall. The stranger in the blood-red mask will be there, cradling me in his arms. And everything will be right again.

I close my eyes, trying to block out the sights and sounds of the arena.

It works.

The noise dies down, and something in the air shifts. Quiet descends. For a moment, I feel like I can breathe again. But then I open my eyes to see every single fae in the arena staring in the same direction.

At the side of the stage, a huge, looming shadow has appeared. The Gloomweaver running the auction flexes her fingers on her wooden staff and takes a step back. She looks afraid. Everyone looks afraid.

And then I realise why.

“Lord Eldrion, what a pleasure.” The Gloomweaver dips into a bow as the tallest fae I’ve ever seen steps out of the shadows.

My mouth becomes instantly dry, and my wings stiffen.

Eldrion’s presence commands the entire arena. A simmering column of power, he strides towards the Gloomweaver. His wings, huge and black, iridescent onyx in the morning sun, unfurl at his sides, casting shadows over the stage.

As he moves, his long, silver hair catches the light, cascading down his back like a river of molten metal. His chiselled features are sharp and angular, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline that could have been carved from marble.

He is beautiful. And he is deadly. A lord and a predator.

“I was not invited to this morning’s auction,” he says in a timbre that is deep and rough. He raises an eyebrow and folds his arms in front of his expansive chest.

The Gloomweaver stutters nervously. “I wasn’t aware...” She trails off, then corrects herself. “An unforgivable error on my part, Lord Eldrion. How may I make it up to you?”

Is she flirting with him? On stage? While we are sold like cattle?

Eldrion does not bite. Instead, he turns and fixes his gaze on the pen where we are being held. “This is all that is left?” he asks, waving a casual hand in our direction.

The Gloomweaver nods. “Yes, my lord.”

He nods slowly and then, causing a ripple of shock to move through the crowd, flies over the heads of the audience and lands with a thud in front of us.

Dust flies up from the ground.

His wings beat hard against the sticky, congealed air of the arena, and his ice-like eyes scan our faces. When they graze across mine, something tugs at my belly. A quiver of treacherous intrigue that makes me want to lower my head in shame.

Except, I can’t. Because he is staring at me and I cannot look away.

Although his head barely moves, I feel his eyes trace my features. He takes in my hair, my pale skin, the freckles on the bridge of my nose. He looks at my wings, my arms, and the gloves I wear.

Then he snaps his gaze away, flies back to the stage and says, “I’ll take them all. Name your price.”

The Gloomweaver’s eyebrows jerk up towards her hairline. “All, my lord?” She laughs nervously. “It’s just that I have customers expecting –”

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