For Minx, there was nothing but to handle each guard as they came. With surgical skill, she struck the leather-bound ribcage of a rampaging Plurn, and as he reeled, she drew him in by the arm, promptly dispatching him with a blow to the throat. No sooner did the beast-man plunge to his knees was another rushing toward her. The sweep of a great axe from mere feet away set her raven hair swaying in the air, missing by an uncomfortably small margin. The attacker loosened a roar of anger at having missed his mark and hoisted the weapon high in a second-attempt—but was too slow for the nimble Fae. Planting her heel against the top of the guard's foot, she had only to deliver a hard shove to knock him off balance. The Plurn tumbled backward, flailing into one of his fellows and catching the back-swing of another's axe handle to his side.
The dragon shifter was handling himself capably as well, and despite the rushing Plurn all around her, Minx couldn't help but watch Kaleb's progress through the mass of guards. His expression, hard as the steel blades they swung at him, scarcely shifted as he worked his way through the attackers. The heft of his armor kept him from matching her own swiftness, but his every move demonstrated an almost-frightening level of stopping power. To the rampaging Plurn, Kaleb appeared a young, handsome man—a talented fighter, but a lone man all the same. Minx knew what he really was, though—and in the bone-rattling strikes he dealt, in the armor-rending swipes and violent throws he passed out in quick succession, she sensed the awe-inspiring power of a royal dragon.
Seven or eight Plurn had been struck down, left dazed or severely injured, before the remainder of the auction house defense grew weary of further engaging with the pair. Kaleb shrugged off the jab of a short sword, then struck the arm that had delivered it with the back of his fist, resulting in a snap heard all around the room. The others flinched at this display and took several paces away from pair, axes held close to their chests.
Sensing an opportunity, Minx started toward the succession of cages, ripping the veils from them with abandon in search of Mau. To her surprise, the guards appeared nervous to intervene. A trio of them came up on her flank, but she had only to spare them a sharp gaze to get them to maintain a reasonable distance. It was not like the Plurn—famous for their power and savagery—to flinch at the prospect of a fight, but having seen so many of the others struck down, those remaining knew their odds of success were slim.
In yanking away the velvet coverings of the cages, Minx discovered strange and terrifying creatures the likes of which she'd never dreamt, much less seen. One cage, specially reinforced to keep its slender-legged denizen from escaping, was a hideous creature bred by the Zuscha. This beast, spider-like and nearly as tall as she was, bore a vaguely human face and skittered around the ceiling of its cage on eight razor-sharp legs. The Fae huntress backed away from the cage with disgust, the odd creature chittering as it watched from above.
The other vessels revealed creatures of similar strangeness—unnatural combinations of Fae, animal and other races—but no sign of Mau whatsoever. Still clutching one of the red curtains and wringing it out in her hands, she called back to Kaleb. “Mau's not here.”
The dragon shifter took a step toward Minx, and the ring of Plurn surrounding him startled as if expecting an attack. “Oh? She's not here, then?” He eyed the guards, sparing them a little grin. “Oops. I guess we had the wrong place, huh?” He shrugged. “No harm, no foul. Right, guys?”
One of the Plurn shadowing Minx let out a growl. “You're looking for the Faelyr, aren't you?” he asked, gripping his axe with both hands.
She turned on her heels to meet him, wielding daggers for eyes. “That's right. Where is she?”
The guard bumped into one of the cages as he sought to back away from her. “W-Well, she's not here,” stammered the Plurn.
Minx grabbed up one of the axes a fallen Plurn had dropped and pointed it at the guard, backing him against the cage. “If you know where she is, you'd better start talking. And if I find out that you or any of your friends here harmed so much as a hair on her head, you're going to be sorry. Very sorry.”
One of the Plurn she'd met outside, the one with the streak of silver fur over one eye, had entered the building at hearing the commotion and replied gruffly. “They aren't going to kill your pet. They want it alive. Harder to make a sale if you kill the merchandise.” The guard—seemingly the one in charge—bared his fangs and motioned to his subordinates. “As you can see, she's not here.”
Kaleb strolled over, stepping gingerly over the heap of fallen Plurn. “Excellent. So, I'm a bit embarrassed after all we've been through, but might you direct us to the place she's being held?” He ran a hand through his flowing hair, eyes flaring with a coal-like glow. “Unless you want us to stick around, that is.”
A few more guards poured in through the main entrances, stunned at the state of the auction floor. “What's going on in here?” demanded one. “Chief, we've got some Krah mercenaries on the way, just like you asked!” called another.
So, thought Minx, they won't tell us, will they? They want a fight? She peered at Kaleb in the corner of her eye and found he hadn't even broken a sweat. He hasn't even begun to fight. She couldn't help but marvel at his strength. “OK, then,” she said, taking a step toward the chief Plurn. “Have it your way.”
The mass of guards tensed and began to close in on them, waiting for orders
