Astrid and Meruse joined hands with him, bowing their heads as well.
“So mote be it.” The three of them intoned, a small glow infusing their hands before vanishing.
“We will be in touch.” Astrid grasped my forearm, and I squeezed her hand. I met Meruse’s eyes, and she gave me a twisted smile. The witches and drakens nodded to each other, and we parted ways.
“We need to get into the city,” Benedict began, his eyes falling to me. “As our residing expert in humans, can you help us?”
I arched an eyebrow, wondering if the world was ending. Benedict was asking me for help. The look on Kieran’s face told me not to push it.
“First, we need human clothes, and way in. Humans aren’t allowed to just walk in and out of town.”
They looked at me seriously, trust shining in their eyes. I felt a small sliver of terror at their faith in me—the weight of their safety was heavy on my shoulders. I closed my eyes and pushed it away. When I opened them, I had several ideas.
Slave carts were a constant fixture in most cities. I heard Clarice complain about them in the breeding house enough to know the basics. They came through city gates several times a day, the backbone of the bustling slave trade.
I pointed one out to Benedict and Kieran; small, but large enough to have twenty or so humans packed in the back of its iron cage. The slaves were older and not much of a threat; therefore, it was only lightly guarded. A small fire grew in Benedict’s eyes as I detailed my plan, and by the end he was grinning with his fangs out. It was easy to monitor the road from under the bridge. It was even easier to jump onto the back of the wagon, a finger to the slaves to keep quiet. They eyed us warily, but quickly agreed when we tossed what food we managed to steal from a nearby garden into the cage. I hung onto the iron bars on the back while Kieran and Benedict moved to the front. With barely more than a muffled thump the wagon came to a stop. Kieran and Benedict worked quickly to dispatch the drivers, dumping their bodies on the side of the road, and stripping them of their clothing.
I put a hand to my face, laughing at the tightness of the tunic stretched across Kieran’s broad shoulders. He scowled and threw it to me instead. The undershirt fit him better, and he kept his own breeches. Benedict had no real luck at all, his massive form unlikely to find anything that fit. He stuffed himself into the remaining shirt, and I made careful rips to allow the fabric to stretch over his chest. I rubbed mud on the areas where his skin showed through the holes. The slaves watched us with wide eyes.
Benedict turned, withdrawing a dagger. A moment later he’d picked the lock and opened the door to the disbelief of the humans inside. He gave them a mocking bow and gestured for them to leave. No one moved.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you wish to escape?”
They flinched back from Kieran, fear in their eyes. I knew immediately what the problem was, as my heart sank.
“Where would they go? The woods? They’ll just be attacked or enslaved again.”
I jumped up into the wagon and shut the iron door behind me.
“If no one truly wants to go, that’s your choice. What if we were to release you into the city?”
Their faces twitched, alive with interest.
“Into the city, then.”
I found it interesting they would rather be released closer to the demons and vampyres but didn’t say anything more. Benedict jammed a rock into the lever to the door, creating a makeshift lock He jumped up to the driver’s seat, Kieran joining him. With a clicking sound, he urged the horses forward, and the wagon lurched to life.
“What are you doing?”
A woman grabbed my arm in a bone-crushing grip.
“We need a way into the city without attracting attention.”
My answer caught the attention of many more faces. The woman leaned in close, her lips right next to my air.
“You are rebels then?”
Every eye in the cage was on me, and I knew they’d all heard her. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just nodded my head.
Jaws dropped.
“We have heard...we heard rumors of an underground rebel base in the city. That is where we would like to go, instead of the woods. The woods are full of lykos.”
I put my hand on top of hers.
“I understand.”
More hands reached out to me, until every slave was reaching forward, their faces full of hope and conviction. My throat tightened, my eyes brimming with unshed tears.
The road lengthened on, and several lesser manors appeared. A familiar stone mansion came into view, and it was a full minute before I realized why such terror had seized me. I had sworn I’d never look at those four walls again, but here I was. In a cage, within reach. It would be easy to be afraid now—so, so easy—but I fought it. I fought it hard.
“What is it?” The woman asked. I saw no reason to lie. If anything, my story would lend us credibility with the other slaves.
“That manor...it’s a breeding manor. I lived there.”
Her hand found mine and squeezed, a knowing look in her eyes. I looked away and caught most of the others staring.
“I was born on a farm.” The other woman offered. “They needed many hands to raise the animals. Is it wrong that I miss it?” A wistful looked bloomed on her features, and I squeezed her hand back.
“It’s never wrong to miss home, however miserable it may have been.”
She smiled, but only for a moment.
“The vampyre who owned our farm was killed, and our new owner doesn’t want the responsibility. He’s sold all of us and killed the animals.”
The sorrow in her voice was marked on the faces of everyone around
