I'm cold. I'm hungry. My whole body aches from sleeping on the floor. A few other women are locked up in cages nearby, just like me, waiting for the big day—the auction.
From what I understand, each seller gets their own cell. I guess I’m lucky, if that word even applies here. Prax and Bully are only selling me, so I’m alone. Other cells hold four to eight women.
I still can’t wrap my head around how I ended up here. Maybe this was Pherebos’s plan all along. I did manage to switch vendors, but my escape just led me straight to this place. Vagantu. Mostly underwater, and from what I’ve heard, a major hub for trafficking of all kinds.
Since I was taken, I’ve barely seen Prax or Bully. Prax is a Sadjim—part feline. Bully’s a Penubian, more reptilian. It’s Bully who’s been in charge of me, keeping me drugged and sluggish with constant injections until we arrived. Not that I could’ve escaped their ship anyway.
Since we landed on Vagantu, they’ve kept me in these gray, damp, moldy cells that stink of rot. I wear a restraint collar they control remotely. I haven’t dared test it, but I saw what happened to a woman who spit at a guard—she collapsed, screaming in pain. Since then, I’ve kept my head down. I don’t even make eye contact.
Bully brings me food once a day. The prison only provides the cages; it’s up to the vendors to keep their merchandise in good shape. I tried pleading with him, begging for my freedom. He didn’t even respond. Just looked at me like I wasn’t worth the effort.
He hasn’t come back since yesterday morning. I finished my energy bar hours ago.
Suddenly, the lights in the gaol flicker on, stabbing into my eyes. That usually means vendors are coming—to check on us or bring food.
I’m surprised when Prax shows up. He stops in front of my cell while a guard hands him the remote for my collar.
“Come,” he says. “Follow me. You’re getting a bath and a proper meal.”
I give him a look—half suspicion, half disbelief. What’s he up to?
“I won’t hurt you. I promise,” he says, raising his hands like he’s trying to prove it.
Not that I have a choice. I get up and follow him out.
We walk through a few corridors, and I realize just how many victims are trapped here. It’s not just women. There are men too—young ones, from what Ican tell. I don’t recognize all the species. Some I’ve never even heard of.
Eventually, we leave the massive storage area behind and step onto a wide, covered terrace overlooking the sea. The water is a deep, dark green, stretching endlessly to the horizon. There’s no coastline. Just ocean.
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air after days in that stinking cell. It feels like the first real breath I’ve taken in forever.
Above us, two birds circle in the cloudy sky, screeching. There’s no moon. Nothing in orbit. No point of reference. Just this strange, endless world.
Prax leads me a little farther. The esplanade narrows, and on the right, I see a row of small cubicles overlooking the sea. He guides me to one of them and pulls back a curtain to give us some privacy. The space is about two by three meters, with two seats around a low table and a few steps that lead directly into the water. The walls slope down into the sea, and a fine mesh grille surrounds the natural pool, making sure no one can swim out.
“Take off your clothes and wash up,” Prax says casually, settling into one of the seats like this is all perfectly normal.
I glance at him, wary. I’m completely at his mercy—whatever he wants, I can’t stop him.
I take off my tunic and slip quickly into the dark water. It’s warmer than I expected. The swimming area is small, maybe three meters across, but I can touch the bottom almost everywhere.
Prax has already picked up my tunic and handed it off to a servant. So now I can’t leave. What is he thinking?
Relax, he says. Your tunic’s just being cleaned. Not exactly a luxury, you know? I’ve got a much more sensitive nose than Bully, and even he didn’t notice anything.
His words make my cheeks burn with shame. Of course I smell—I’ve been wearing the same thing for days, and the only washing I’ve had was with a few damp cloths.
But I don’t have anything else to wear.
It’ll be clean and dry in a few minutes. And you’ll get a full meal—boiled vegetables, and something with cooked grains. Bully told me this morning he’s only been giving you bars. I’m sorry I didn’t check sooner.
Prax looks genuinely downcast. Could it be that he’s not as heartless as his friend? Should I try again—lower myself and beg for my freedom?
“So this is what you do for a living? Kidnap people who never asked for anything and sell them to the highest bidder?”
“Er, no. Not really,” he says, clearly annoyed.
“Oh? Well, here I am. I’m not going to be your captive, or anyone else’s.”
