Princess of Nothing — Chapter 8
A fantasy tale of magic, struggle and survival — Draft 1
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CHAPTER 8
“Let me go you piece of filth!”
I hear a female shout from down the corridor. I haven’t seen her yet and am already worried for her. “Quite the mouth on this one,” Rec observes with clear amusement in his voice. Amusement is better than anger, I tell myself.
Across from me the mimic, lying on his side atop his cot, cracks open an eye at all the commotion.
An unfamiliar male’s voice says, “She’s been like this since the day I acquired her.” They are both too far away for me to see — but are getting closer by the second.
A grunt from Rec. “Sounds familiar. I have one that’s similar.” Is he referring to me?
I move as close as I can to the bars, straining to get a look. They stop in front of the vacant cell left of mine. “It will require some patience on your part, Magnus. It takes time to break them properly, but we’ve come a long way these past months.” Rec suddenly steps into view. “Isn’t that right, Faeling?”
I bare my fangs at him.
His eyes sparkle with delight as he winks at me. Rec turns to his mysterious companion and says, “Though I must admit, I like mine a little wild. The way she glares at me when she’s upset — you can truly see the murder in her eyes.”
The unknown male beside him chuckles, the sound low and cultured. “If she looks at you like that now, I can only imagine how she started. This is why I decided to stay here. A little birdie told me your facility’s better equipped to manage fae.”
“It’s not the facility,” Rec says. “It’s me.”
From the back of his cell, the mimic glares at Rec with such undiluted violence that I’m relieved Rec’s yet to look his way. Rec thinks I look murderous…
Another low chuckle. “After everything I’ve seen, I’m inclined to believe you, Recruiter.” Finally the other male moves into my line of sight — a well-dressed eldraki. His dark skin appears youthful and flawless. Small, curved horns peek out through his thick, dark curls. His long tail swishes languidly with a plated, spaded tip. Staring at it, I wonder how sharp it is.
I have never seen an eldraki this close. Usually, they stand far off in the top row, half in the shadows amidst all the chaos — always immaculately dressed while silently observing my fight, waiting to see how long I last so they might collect their dollari. I always found it unnerving. They act like they are above it all. Like they are privy to some secret the rest of the crowd is not, when in reality, they are just as corrupt and awful as the rest of them.
I heard that a long time ago the eldraki used to be members of The Seelie Court but desired to be free of fae rule. Now most live outside the fae wilds, with everyone else.
This eldraki sports the enchanted tattoo that marks him as my enemy — only his is not yellow, nor scarlet, but blood-orange. This leads me to believe he’s of a different sect, or perhaps he specializes in something — more important than the rest, but not as high-ranking as Rec.
He yanks on a chain and pulls a resistant female behind him. Dirty, bruised, but — fae.
She’s pure fae!
She snarls at her captor — this male called Magnus — as she stumbles forward. “I’m afraid this is my only vacant cell at the moment,” Rec says, his serpent’s stare focused on the empty chamber to my left.
I rush to the small window between our cells and catch the female’s eye — just for a moment — before Magnus shoves her on the cot and chains her by the ankle. When she sees me, her wings flare and her eyes widen. She reminds me of the sun. Everything about her is gold: her hair. Her wings — even her irises. She’s too pretty. Will the fact that she’s not one of Rec’s keep him away?
Once she is secured, they leave her cell and close the door. “Hopefully we won’t burden you for long,” Magnus says. “I am simply awaiting my orders.”
“Please,” Rec hooks a muscled arm around Magnus’s shoulder, “make yourself at home for as long as you need.” Together, they pass my cell. Magnus casts a vaguely curious glance my way — he suddenly stops.
“Yours is a vision,” he says, looking me up and down.
Recs glances at me. “She most certainly is.” Something’s changed in his demeanor. Magnus doesn’t register it. He doesn’t know Rec well enough to.
Magnus steps close to the bars of my cell. I meet his stare. His eyes are a deep crimson. They hold a look of wonder as his brow furrows. “She’s special, isn’t she?”
“She is.” Rec’s voice is completely void of emotion.
“Something about her…” The eldraki sniffs the air. “She smells wonderful, too — fae, but something else. A hybrid, I take it, since she has no wings. Not like she can hide them with magic here.” Rec stays silent. Magnus continues, “She’s curiously pale…”
“Half fae, half vampire,” Rec says. I hear a sharp inhalation from the gilded fae in the cell beside me.
Magnus whips toward Rec. “Vampire!? The fae do not breed with vampires. I didn’t even think they could create offspring together.”
“Well, apparently, Magnus, someone made an exception.” Rec offers me a slashing grin. “Or took what they wanted by force. Either way, my little faeling here is indeed one of a kind.”
“Her eyes are fascinating — I’d like a closer look.” Magnus goes for the access panel to my cell. Behind him, the mimic uses the stealth from his borrowed vampire form to stand without alerting Rec and Magnus — his lips pressing thin as he watches the scene unfold. It’s hard to interpret the look in his eyes and I don’t want to stare at him too long lest Rec notice and turn his attention toward him.
Magnus raises his arm to the panel on my cell, about to scan his tattoo to open my door — Rec grabs hold of it, his grip firm. He clicks his tongue. “This is not a petting zoo, Magnus, they are for the pit. If you’d like to see what I have for sale, I’ll gladly show you.”
Magnus’s ruby irises hold Rec’s. He raises a questioning brow. “Not a petting zoo…” he repeats, with an edge of doubt creeping into his voice. Magnus seems to be a person who is seldom denied.
A green-hued vein pulses in the side of Rec’s neck, and I wonder if he is readying his venom. “Unless you would like to come to an arrangement? Give me some quality time with yours and perhaps I’ll have a change of heart.” Rec jerks his chin toward the golden fae without looking at her. Instantly my stomach drops. No. No, no, no.
Magnus shakes his head and removes his arm from Rec’s grasp. “I think not, Recruiter. I’ve heard the stories about what you do to females.” A pointed, questioning look at me. “Most of them.”
The loud clap of Rec’s hands startles me as he says, “In that case, come! The fight’s about to start. Let me show you how we do things here.” His tone has completely reverted to that of a good-natured host. Magnus smiles stiffly, following him out.
I am surprised Rec held his composure, but I suppose there are rules about attacking one of your own — even in a place like this.
When I look across the corridor into the mimic’s cell, he’s standing much closer than I last remember. We make eye contact. He’s the first to look away, and suddenly I’m watching a black panther slink to the darkest corner of his cell.
The fae next to me startles when she witnesses the transformation. “What — what is that!?” she asks, with a touch of hysteria as she points to the large feline. I approach the window between us and say, “That, is the least of your concerns.”
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