There is just enough time to suck in a quick lung full of air before four people come into view. One fey guard and three naked people wearing collars. All of them appear male.
The cell door is opened and the three pets file meekly in. The guard locks the door and strolls away, leaving the four of us alone.
My gaze quickly scans over the bare dirt walls. I’m fairly certain there are no listening devices. Besides, why would anyone be bothered to spy on a handful of pets before they perform? Llywelyn is a genius. This is a perfect opportunity to gather intelligence.
I clasp my hands together and bow to my new friends.
“Namaste.”
My greeting invokes three different expressions, but they are all variations in levels of incredulity, bemusement and confusion. It’s perfect. Exactly what I was hoping for. They now firmly believe that I am completely unthreatening and no danger at all.
“You’re human?” the youngest looking one asks.
I let my surprise show and I quickly reassess my new companions. The one who has spoken looks like a Caucasian male. Short blond hair. Blue eyes. Around 5‘6. Slender build.
The other two men are older, thirties, and bulkier. Brown hair. One has green eyes, the other pale blue. They are all extremelyattractive. But all three of them look very human. They don’t look fey.
“You’re not?” I all but stammer and I don’t have to fake it at all.
“No,” answers the blond with a soft smirk.
I look at the trio again, my gaze darting like crazy. “You came through the portals?”
The older, green-eyed man sighs tiredly. “Paranormals have always been here, human. We just hid from you.”
It is an effort to keep my wide-eyed expression while keeping my scowl to myself, but I manage it. Llywelyn should have told me this. It is extremely important information. It is a whole potential pool of allies.
“Oh,” I say in my very best lost and hopeless tone. Immediately, pity flares in the blond’s eyes. Excellent. For good measure, I wring my hands together anxiously. “What are they going to do to us today?”
The older two look vaguely irritated, but the blond steps forward with a gentle smile. “Don’t worry.”
I turn my full attention to him. He’s clearly the one to latch onto. It’s going to be far easier to get information out of him. There is no need to bother with the other two until I have learnt everything I can from this one.
“The guy who captured me said something about wrestling?” I say, with a nervous quiver to my voice.
Blond boy places a reassuring hand on my naked shoulder and starts to talk. Perfect. Now I’m getting somewhere.
Roughly thirty minutes later, our little chat is ended. Four fey guards, all dressed in stout dark leather, have come to take us to the ring. Actually, ring is the wrong word for it. I glimpsed the performance area on the way here. It is a pit. Just like Llywelyn described. Dug out like this cell is.
“You and you,” says one of the guards, pointing at me and the green-eyed man.
I guess that means we are first. I run an appraising eye over my selected opponent. He is taller than me. With far more muscle mass. And a deeply aggressive gleam in his eyes. Damn it, I’m going to have to let him win. There is no way yoga-boy could defeat this kind of man.
I lower my head and follow the guards out. Discontent is grumbling through me like I’m some sort of jack-ass. Losing a fight is a ridiculous thing to get upset about. I don’t know what has got into me lately. I’m really starting to think the fey bring out the very worst in me.
We reach the pit via a shallow trench. The pit itself is only about seven foot deep. I could reach up and touch the lip. It’s about twenty feet across. Plenty enough room for two grown men to throw each other around.
I was half-expecting a ravenous, raucous crowd. But instead, it is almost eerily quiet. A gentle hum of conversation. Soft harp music. The fey that I can see, are idly lounging on huge cushions. Almost like beanbags, but far more stylish.
I spot one ornate hookah base. A pretty curved glass vase with several coiling cords spiralling from it.
Llywelyn is holding the end of one in his long elegant fingers. He is sitting close to the edge of the pit so I can see him and his insufferably smug expression far too well.
I snatch my gaze away. I have never in my life been stark naked in front of these many people, and being utterly body hair free is making me feel extra bare. But I’m not going to let it get to me. Especially since nobody seems interested. If I had to describe the atmosphere in one word, it would be, ‘bored’.
It seems the life of the stupidly rich is the same everywhere. It doesn’t matter if you are human or fey, if you are rich and nobility, then you lie around your court being as bored as hell. With no jobs and nothing to aspire to, I guess it makes sense.
Suddenly a gong sounds. The next thing I know, my opponent is rugby tackling me to the ground. For a split second, my combattraining tries to kick in, but I manage to quell my instincts and let myself be thrown to the floor instead.
