Chapter Twenty-two
A minute later, I found out what was behind the tent: more tents. Along with a surprised guard who was cursed through the fabric before he even realized he was a target. And then ended up a lump hidden behind the little movie the witches provided for anybody checking in.
It was supposed to be us, huddled in a circle, talking softly. And for an on-the-fly illusion, it wasn’t bad, although it wasn’t likely to fool anyone for long. But then, we didn’t have long.
The auction was about to start.
From what I could see past a couple of barrels, it looked like the marking up had finished and the sorting had commenced. Sobbing young women were being pulled away from their older relations, who I guessed were being sold as generic slaves. And then further divided based on age or looks. Groups were being assembled by dealers who frequently changed their minds, unifying and then jerking apart families as they tried to form the best lots.
My hand clenched as I watched two sisters, judging by their identical long auburn hair, be stripped and examined by a grizzled man with the impersonal touch of a horse trader. The girl with the prettiest face was kept; the other was dragged off, sobbing, to another group, without even being allowed to get dressed first. Her shift was knocked from her hand by a passing servant and trampled in the mud, leaving her to try to cover herself with only her hair as she waited, alone and terrified, to be sold with a group of strangers.
I told myself that Rosier had been right. I couldn’t stop what was happening, what had already happened. However this had played out, it was over, long ago. But my job wasn’t.
I had to get out of here.
But that was easier said than done. The camp was crawling with guards, both the official ones and the flashier, shiny-armor-and-etched-weapon type some of the slavers had brought. And even if we somehow got through all that, and through the warded palisade wall, an army was camped on the other side.
I bit my lip. I could use the potion, try to shift away. But even if I succeeded, that might make things worse instead of better. Because Gertie was still out there. And although she was currently unable to kick my ass, her acolytes had almost certainly rescued her by now. I doubted they were powerful enough to get her home, but they could definitely get her to her present-day counterpart, the Byzantine Pythia I’d seen with her last time.
And then she could kick my ass.
I was going to have to find another way.
“They’re auctioning the people in lots?” I asked the blonde, who had crouched down beside me.
She nodded. “Human traders aren’t allowed in Faerie. They sell the women in quantity to the fey, who take them back, clean them up, and auction them off individually.”
“So each fey slaver will be leaving with a fairly big group?” I asked, to be sure I understood. “A group he doesn’t know too well?”
“Not tonight,” the redhead said, before the blonde could answer. She crouched down beside us. “Not wi’ our people using the darkness to make them pay for every life they steal!”
“Your people?” I frowned at her. “You mean the crazy women who almost killed us coming in?”
She shot me a sardonic look. “They weren’t tryin’ t’ kill ye, girl, else ye’d be dead. They were tryin’ to save ye.”
“Aye,” Hooknose agreed, joining the party. “Let’s see how much Nimue p
rofits from her crimes!”
“Nimue? Then the Green Fey are behind this?” I asked, suddenly noticing a few green tabards in the crowd. Most of the guards hadn’t bothered with them, probably because of the weather. But the waterworks coming in should have been enough of a clue. Water was the Green Fey’s element and they could do amazing things with it. If I hadn’t been preoccupied—
I suddenly noticed that everyone had turned to stare at me, in various degrees of incredulity. “I’m . . . not from around here,” I added weakly.
“Your home must be far if you don’t know that Nimue considers this her personal fiefdom,” the blonde said. “She thinks she can do whatever she likes with it.”
“And what she likes is to renegotiate the treaty,” the redhead commented heatedly. “And it was bad enough already!”
“A recent war with the Dark Fey depleted her numbers,” the blonde explained. “She’s insisting on doubling the levy.”
“But the king refused, and damn right, too!” Hooknose muttered. “But now she’s come in force, rounding up not only what she asked for, but every woman she can find!”
“They’re even taking the children,” a thin brunette despaired, her eyes on the camp.
“She’s just trying to put pressure on the king,” the blonde told her. “Nimue has a hard enough time feeding her own children—she can’t want to feed ours, too.”
“So she’ll take them and the food!” the redhead said. “Leaving us just enough to raise a new generation. So they can come and pick them over, taking who they like, raping and plundering—no! This ends now!”
“How?” the thin brunette asked bitterly. “She has the leaders, and also the princess. And without them—”