Mazra’s mouth fell open.
“How much gold will that be?” she muttered, giving me a measuring look.
I wasn’t a petite or slender girl. My fuzzy sweater was far from slimming either. I turned toward the shadow by the entrance. He must know what he got himself into.
Of course, the more important question was, what did all of it mean for me? Sadly, I had no answer to that. I didn’t know who this man was. I couldn’t even see him, which unnerved me. Why did he keep out of sight? What did he have to hide? And what did he want with me?
The last question was probably easy to answer. All shadow fae wanted the same thing from humans—our joy. The figure in the corner had no yellow flowers anywhere on his shroud, but he could be keeping bucketfuls of them under it.
“The Joy Vessel’s weight in gold is our latest bid, ladies and gentlemen!” Xavix announced quickly. “More, anyone?” He twisted around, scanning the crown in invitation to challenge the big. “Anyone?”
Ray growled disgruntledly, then curled his lips in disgust.
“That much gold for this bitter one? She isn’t worth it.” He spat through his teeth onto the sand, then glared at Piara. “You’d better bring a sweeter one up here next.”
“Oh, I will,” she rushed to assure him, breathless with the anticipation of the huge payout. “Of course I will.”
“Sold! To…” Xavix paused, extending the moment, maybe hoping to get a higher last-minute bid or simply trying to recall the name of the winner. “Timur!” he finally announced. “Sold to Timur for the Joy Vessel’s weight in gold!”
Xavix spun his scroll over his head with a flourish in celebration. However, no one clapped or cheered, or whatever reaction Xavix had been hoping for with his theatrics.
Ray shrugged, sauntering away. Mazra darted a calculating glance between me and the bizarre figure who’d just won the bidding process.
Who’d just wonme…
My brief relief from escaping Ray evaporated quickly. Dread painfully crushed my chest. I was sold. Even in Prince Rha’ssaraias one of his Joy Vessels or locked in a cage on the side of the camel, I didn’t feel the loss of freedom this acutely.
“Bring in the scale!” Xavix snapped his fingers at his people.
Two of them dragged in a big scale that must be used to weigh grain sacks or animal carcasses. Today, they were going to weigh me on it.
“Come, Sweet One,” Xavix coaxed, patting one of the scales’ brass plates. “Step right here.”
“Move it.” Piara dragged me off the crate and toward the scale.
Xavix pressed the plate down for me. Dazed, as if trapped in a nightmare, I stepped onto it and grabbed onto the chains that attached the plate to the large metal bar above my head. On the other end of the bar, the second plate swayed on the chains, empty.
How could any of this be real?
“Time for your payment, sir.” Xavix waved his scroll like a baton in the direction of the winning bidder.
A faint hum rolled subtly under the clamor of the crowd. The shrouded, misshapen figure rose from the ground slightly, the hem of his cloak hovering over the sand. The black fabric edged with a shimmering green glow as he moved smoothly toward the scale.
I’d never seen anything like that before. By the way the other fae stared, muttered, and shrank away from the slowly moving figure, this likely wasn’t a usual sight in Ashgate either.
Fear sliced through my stunned numbness as the eerie, dark shape approached. A strangled cry caught in my throat. I twisted around, trying to get off the plate.
“Steady, Sweet One.” Xavix held his scroll at my back to keep me in place.
Piara clamped a heavy hand over my shoulder.
The shrouded figure passed by me on his way to the empty plate. I got a better look at him, but it revealed little more than when he hid in the shadows. Hovering about a hand’s width above the ground, the bidder—Timur—was about the same height as me, which was short for a fae, especially for a male. He was wide, with broad shoulders and even broader, misshapen base. A black cloak shrouded him completely, with a wide hood drawn low over his face, only leaving his chin and mouth visible.
He stopped at the plate, and his left hand emerged from his shroud. It was a large, masculine hand, covered with smooth, black skin that glowed faintly. A wide bangle circled his wrist. Made from a metal the color of aged bronze, it was decorated with precious stones and…mechanical gears? The gears moved, emitting a soft green glow. I’d never seen anything like this in Alveari before. An onyx ring in a gold setting graced his thumb. The ring was big and seemed heavy, covering the entire lower phalanx of his thumb.
Timur held out a tightly stuffed satchel. Xavix shoved his scroll under his arm, then grabbed the satchel and opened it. His pale eyes widened at the glimmer of gold inside.
“Very well,” he murmured with eager anticipation. “Let’s see then.”
