Page 19 of The Bazaar (Fae's Captive 6)

isses the golden snake.

The slavers titter and some laugh.

“And what’s the best way to make an example of Silmaran? Anyone have a guess?”

Silence falls again, then a fae yells, “A thousand coins!”

Zatran smiles. “Exactly. This creature was always meant to be a slave. She is a lesser creation, a beast. She is made to serve us. Why kill a perfectly good slave? She’ll have a few years left in a brothel or the mines. I think she needs some time to reflect on all the mistakes she made. To realize she will never be more than she is, that she will never deserve the life she’s given, and that she only draws breath because of our magnanimity. Now, let’s hear your offers. Don’t be shy!”

“Two thousand!”

“Three!”

“Four!”

The bids are rapid, each one building onto the already-impossible number. Each yell makes Beth jump as if she’s been hit with a lash, and I feel despair trickling down the bond in slow droplets. My rage grows with each bid, and I try to focus on Beth, on her breathing, her scent, the beats of her heart. The slaves seem frozen, but they are watching, waiting, listening. It feels as if we’re teetering on the edge. Silmaran has led them to the precipice, and all they need is the right push.

After several minutes, the bidding finally slows down. Some of the slavers grumble in disappointment as the numbers become too rich even for them.

It’s down to two bidders, and I turn to see which cruel bastards are vying for her. Chastain is at the front, his hand in the air each time as he throws out more and more offers.

“One million gold!” The other fae, a male with a jaunty hat and lacy cravat, shouts.

Chastain raises his hand again, but Zatran jumps down from the cage. “My lord, I’m afraid I know how much coin is in your accounts. I should have called this match when it started, but I was curious to see just how far your traitorous heart would take you.” He snaps his fingers and guards rush through the surprised crowd and seize Chastain. “You think I didn’t know.” Zatran laughs, and spins. “I own this city, you fool. Your little dalliance with Silmaran couldn’t stay secret forever. Not here.”

Captain Bracanda strides up and backhands Chastain.

Silmaran’s high cry sends chills down my spine. “Leave him!”

“My songbird is awake.” Zatran grins, his face a grotesque caricature. “You thought you could lead an uprising, that you could stop slavery in the summer realm.” He turns and scans the crowd, his gaze landing on me, and he waves me forward.

Raywen steps from the line of slaves and grips Beth’s elbow. “Go.” She looks up at me with eyes that have a spark of hope in them. “I will stay with her.”

“Thank you.” I hand her off gently. “I will come back for you,” I shout down the bond, but I don’t know if Beth can hear it.

I affix an affable expression and approach Zatran. He’s dangerous, a snake that I can’t predict. Does he know that I’m in league with Chastain? I can’t tell yet. But if he knows, I will strike him down and run to Beth.

“You thought you were an equal, someone who could lead the slaves. But what you don’t understand is that you are slaves because you will never be more than the basest animals. Only a high fae can ever lead your kind, because you simply don’t possess that ability. And worse, not only have you failed to stop slavery here—” He pulls me to him and pats me on the back. “Our new relationship with the winter realm will see the spread of this noble practice!” He ends on a shout, and the applause follows. All those silver eyes staring at me and smiling, the slavers accepting a new one to the fold. I force myself to remain at ease, to stop imagining their destruction.

“Not only that.” He raises his hands to quiet the crowd.

I could stick a dagger in him right now, could gut him in front of his horde of fiends. But Beth is too far out of reach. I can’t strike until I know she’s safe. The slaves are restless, their whispers growing again. They must rise.

“Not only that,” Zatran turns and motions to someone at the back of the room. “But I have another very special guest. With his formidable strength, we will not only see the spread of our influence, but Cranthum will finally take its place at the forefront of the summer realm. No longer will Byrn Varyndr set its terms, take its taxes, or try to enforce its rules.”

The cheers are almost deafening.

I keep my gaze on Beth and will her to look at me—not at Chastain or Silmaran or anyone else. Just me.

I grin and hold up my hands. “To seal this new alliance, I bid two million coins for the traitor!”

More shouts of approval rise, and Zatran claps me on the back. “Sold!”

Beth sags against Raywen, and Chastain gives me a nearly-imperceptible nod. If the slaves don’t rise, I at least have a chance at claiming Silmaran. I’ll figure out how to get the coins later. I can salvage this. We can regroup. Once Silmaran is healed, we’ll work out a way to rescue Chastain. I can fix it.

“Two million? That’s quite a lot of coin, but he’s good for it.” A voice from the other side of the cage raises the hackles along the back of my neck. “I can vouch for him, or at least I can say that we’re acquainted.”

My gut twists, and I reach for the blade concealed at my waist.

“Can’t say we’re friends, though.”

I draw my blade as he comes into view, his eyes slitted and his sword drawn. I never believed he perished in the Gray Mountains along with his father, but I didn’t expect to see him in Cranthum. The Ancestors have given me a chance to end him, and for that, I am grateful. I flick the blade out to my side, my blood humming with vengeance. “You should never have come here, Cenet.”

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