Walking through the ground level of the warehouse was more intense than sneaking over the catwalks. The heat was lessened slightly, but the pungent odor of tightly massed bodies and waste was revolting. I resisted the urge to vomit and started breathing through my mouth.
Huge wooden crates lined the walls and were stacked in haphazard piles at random throughout the warehouse, creating a very maze-like environment, and there were plenty of cages mixed with the crates. A few were empty, more than likely the once homes of the slaves that were auctioned off outside, but most of the pens held the less valuable ones: the young elves and dwarves or the too valuable ones like the rabbit men. The nobles just go crazy for bunny-girls, much too valuable to just auction them off. More than likely, Liam would have held a private event for them and raked in a mountain of gold.
I tried to ignore them, tried to ignore their pleading or judging eyes, but I could feel them like daggers in my back, begging me to save them. I can't help you. We've been here too long already, and I have to get Eris out of here. She comes before all others. I didn't have the time to waste helping them.
I could ignore the looks from the slaves, could leave them to their misery, and whatever awful fate awaited them. It would only further damn my soul to whatever pit of hell I'd resigned myself to, but I could do it. However, there was one gaze I couldn't ignore.
Eris was wide-eyed, staring at the horrors of this place. Her face held such sadness at what she was seeing. I tried to put it out of mind, but she felt such conflicting emotions that she'd inadvertently opened our connection and spilled her overflow of feelings into my mind. Considering the many lifetimes she'd spent locked away herself, she couldn't bear to see others going through what she did.
She tugged sharply on my arm, forcing me to stop walking, which had been me dragging her more than anything.
"Sam, we have to help them."
"We don't have time to waste. Look, I'm sorry, I know how this must pain you to see, and I don't exactly like it either, but this world is a harsh one, and we can't right every wrong we come across. Bad things happen to good people. It's just the way it is."
I yanked on her hand, trying to force her to keep walking. The bay doors were just a few yards away, and freedom from this place was so close, but Eris wasn't having it. She dug in her heels and wouldn't budge, using all of her considerable strength to stop me in my tracks and pulled away from me.
"No, Sam, I'm going to help them, whether you like it or not. I love you, but you're better than this, I know you are."
I stared at the bleeding marks on my arms where her fingers had scraped the skin free from my arm.
Godsdamn it!
She was right, though; I knew she was from the beginning. I just didn't want to listen. Much as Eris thought I was good, I wasn't. I'm a monster, but she's right, I can't just walk away. Not when she's begging me to right a wrong against innocents.
"Fine," I sighed.
The smile that lit her face put the sun in the sky to shame. She squeezed my hand tight and mouthed, "Thank you."
I managed a half-smile, which I quickly dropped as I got down to business. Staying here means staying on guard. Let's get this done and get out.
"Right, let's make this quick."
Whispers around us told me that our conversation had been overheard, and a few death glares withered into ones of relief. They crowded against the bars of their cages, each of them begging to be freed—their voices combining into so much incomprehensible noise.
"Quiet!"
As if a switch had been flipped, they obeyed—instant silence.
I walked over to one of the cages. A slight elven male resided in it. His thin features even more so, as malnourishment emaciated him. He flinched back as I got close, but I ignored him and looked at the lock on the cage. It was different than the one that housed Eris. The key I took would be useless.
"Does anyone know where the key is kept?" I asked. It wasn't in the vault, and there wasn't a key in Liam's remains. I don't want to waste any more time on a scavenger hunt.
"Here," one of the slaves spoke up from a cage along the far wall.
As I got closer, I noticed the slave was one of the rabbitmen demi-humans. A small girl, maybe six years old. Her black hair was a tangled mess, and her gray bunny ears had dirt and filth on them. Her blue dress was ragged and soiled with grime. It looked as if she'd been wearing it for weeks.
Her face was equally dirty. Except for where her tears had washed away the dirt, leaving thin streaks down her face. She looked up at me with wide, unblinking eyes. Such bright blue eyes.
"The key is kept over there," she said in a whisper, pointing at a small office hidden behind even more crates. The door was ajar, and I spied a desk and a rack of keys hanging on the wall.
Not wasting any more time, I took off at a sprint and hopped over the crates in my way, barging into the office. I knocked aside the door with my shoulder. It slammed against the wall with a thud to rattle the single window in the cramped space.
Four different keys lined a small wooden shelf on the
