The walk down the mountainside into the town was not nearly as bad as the walk up. The closer we came to the rather large city of fogged lights, the more and more of the rodrant people I saw. They, like humans, came in a variety of different colored fur, eyes, and shapes of their ears and snouts. Surprisingly, Vekrem stood out the most. Overall, he shared some of their rodent qualities, but compared to the others, he was far more human. Worse, he stood a good two feet over most of them in height, drawing unwanted attention to himself.

  Crowded streets with hawkers screaming out their wares barred our way as we tried navigating our way through. Children played, and animals—horses, mules and the like—hauled wooden carts around. Eventually, we came upon a waterway that was lined with small fishing boats rocking against the stone they were tied to.

  I turned, staring towards my new ‘master.’ “Vekrem,” I asked. “Where does that water come from?”

  He looked at me, dodging around a particularly careless child who turned to stare up at him as if he were a leper before quickly running back to his mother, clinging to her skirts.

  “From the mountain.” He pointed up. “It runs down to this valley, and then, further down, feeding the forest.”

  I nodded. “And this place we’re going—you mentioned it was a place of rude men and women? Sounds like a tavern.”

  “Exactly!” Vekrem replied. “I was never fond of getting so drunk you lose your senses. But, to each their own, I suppose.”

  “Speak for yourself,” I replied, nudging him with my elbow. That camaraderie earned me speculative glances from the locals, who already eyed us curiously. Far more-so than I liked. “Sorry,” I whispered.

  Vekrem returned me a coy smile as he twisted around a corner between two buildings. We walked along the narrow corridor until we came upon the exit, and he turned towards me, trying to push me back. “Wrong way,” he said, panicked. “Go back!”

  “What?” I replied, forcing past him. When I emerged, I saw what appeared to me as a large auction block. There were crates which many sat on—some even stood—and there was so much excitement that it was tangible in the air.

  The auctioneer, or what I assumed him to be, from the fancy clothing and large gavel, stood above the other rodrant, with what appeared to be a runway underneath his feet.

  “What’s this?” I asked, turning to Vekrem, but he just returned my gaze with a blank stare. No, not blank… horrified. He looked as if he would be sick.

  The auctioneer’s voice rose above the crowd, and I spun back to face him.

  “Now for today’s auction,” the rodrant man announced. “We have a wide selection of suitable servants. Let’s start off with one of our best showings of the day.”

  Two rodrants, dressed as if they were guards, with tan leather armor, pushed forward a chained human. A young girl with curly blond hair. The chains were connected to both hands and ankles, and they were looped through each other, eventually connecting to a brace around her neck.

  I stepped forward without thinking, and Vekrem’s hand shot out, grasping my shoulder tightly as he pulled me back, his nails digging into the skin.

  “Don’t,” he said. “Please… I beg you.”

  I shoved him off, and turned again, but Dragon boomed into my head, almost sending me to my knees. “Enough! There is nothing you can do.”

  “Fuck. That,” I growled, forcing my back straight. “You may not care, but I do.”

  Wait… why did I care? It wasn’t me. I didn’t know her. Surely, helping would cause me all manner of trouble. I just couldn’t help the comparison. I didn’t see a chained little girl; I saw myself, passed off like a piece of meat from household to household—nobody giving a single fuck and all looking for a government check.

  Vekrem grabbed me again, turning me to face him. “They’ll kill her!”

  His words caused me to lapse, and I paused, listening to what Vekrem had to say.

  “Not just you,” he continued. “And not just me. They will kill her… and her family. Her friends. Anyone who is connected with her in any way. That’s how they stop a rebellion from starting. They stomp out all hope.”

  Vekrem’s words were of a desperate man. Heeding his warning, I turned to stare back at the barbarity. I knew I shouldn’t, and that there truly was nothing I could do, but I couldn’t stop myself. Dragon had mentioned that I’d caused this. I felt I owed it to her to, at the very least, witness it. In the end, another little girl, a rodrant, won the auction, her father chastising her for betting with his coin. However, her spirit was undaunted as she exclaimed excitedly that she’ll have someone to play with her now.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  It was not the worst of outcomes, and I hated myself for thinking that way.

  “Come on,” Vekrem insisted. “We’re close. Come.”

  Hesitantly, with my pride bruised, my sense of justice tainted, I followed Vekrem, not daring to look back. I set the matter aside in the back of my mind to deal with later.

  I needed more time to think on it.

  ***

  I did my best to avoid looking at anyone as we made our way towards our destination. My mood had taken a sour turn. I felt the very same as I did when the girl had been hurt from my own world.

  The inability to save anyone was grating. How could I be a hero if—

  “We’re here,” Vekrem announced suddenly, shouldering open a door and beckoning me inside.

  As I entered, the smell of old beer and smoke smacked me upside the senses. The tavern was a dingy place; hardly the place I’d expect Vekrem, of all people, to have any friends. Still, the place seemed to serve both rodrant and humans alike, although the humans seemed to be left with the shoddy and old tables and chairs. Nor did the groups intermingle, although both were dressed similarly in simple, mute clothing. The humans argued loudly over a card game, and the group of rodrant’s looked as if they would take issue with them.

  Turning towards Vekrem, I said, “Never took you for this type of rough.”

  “And you’d be right to assume that,” Vekrem replied, stepping towards a long wooden bar.

  He sat on a stool, and I reached to sit beside him when he pushed my hand back as quietly and quickly as he could. Glancing at him, he gave me what I assumed was a look of warning. Sighing, I stood motionless behind him, trying, and failing, not to show my annoyance on my face.

  An elderly human man approached, at least seventy, his face so wrinkled and gray that he looked chiseled from stone. He set his hands on the table as he asked, “What can I get you, master…”

  “Vekrem… and this is my servant, Ike.”

  The man looked up at me, and I nodded, not trusting myself not to say something stupid.

  Vekrem coughed, drawing the attention back. “We are here to see the master of the tavern.”

  “Fraid they are not here, sir.”

  Vekrem cocked a smile. “Of course they aren’t.” He gestured with his hands, pointing to the rest of the room. “A noble, no matter how low in stature, would never be seen with this rabble. No…” He tapped lightly on the counter, almost in a sort of tune. “But I think I’ll have a Basilisk’s Spit. On the house.”

  The man’s eyes went wide, and he wordlessly moved to a door behind the bar that looked like it led to the back. He opened it and waved us forward.

  Vekrem slid the chair back casually, walking in with a brisk step, and I followed close behind. In the back were barrels upon barrels of what I assumed was alcohol from the fragrance they gave off. Crates filled with bread and cheese littered the floor as well, and there was even a cooking stone, but it looked worn down and unused.

  The old man pulled a key out of his pocket, placing it into a locked door that looked like it led down to the cellar. He cranked it once left and then twice right, and the latch gave way, a loud grinding sounding out, followed by a clink. He pushed, and the hinges groaned as they opened. This time, the man didn’t follow us. We stepped through, and he closed the door behind us. I heard the lock re-engage. My heart dropped into my stomach.

  Looking down the dark and dusty stairway, I whispered to Vekrem, “I hope you didn’t just lead us into a trap.”

  “Of course not,” Vekrem replied, wiping dust from his rust-colored coat. “She just has a flair for the dramatic.”

  I stopped on the stairwell. “She?” I nudged him. “You never said anything about a she. So, who is this mysterious woman to you?”

  “Would you two come downstairs already?” I heard a feminine voice call out from below. “I’m rather interested in what young Vekrem has to say on this matter.”

  Vekrem sighed, giving me an elbow in the ribs, then added dejectedly, “Come on… We best not keep her waiting.”

  His face went beet red as he walked down.

  I smiled, trodding down the stairs behind him, each step kicking dust into the air that threatened to choke me. I rubbed my eyes, and shook the stuff from my hair.

  When we reached the cellar, the entire environment was different than expected. No, I expected a rundown cellar filled with cobwebs, dust and old, discarded items. Instead, I was met with luscious decadence. Glass portraits that looked to have been spun from silver. Various ornamental rugs that showed not a speck of dirt. And to top it off, an entire wall of bottles set in individual cubbies.

  The short rodrant woman gazed at me from her seat on a long black coach that looked finely stitched. Her eyes were surprisingly human, blue as the ocean, but the edges dark as the depths. Her rodent-like face was somehow feminine, her ears pierced and adorned with brass. Even her tail, slender and long, was adorned with plated brass pieces. Knowing nothing of their culture, I could tell this woman came from wealth. Or, as Vekrem had mentioned, royalty.

  Her eyes ran up and down my body as if she were inspecting a horse.

  “Like what you see?” she asked, and I realized I was still staring.

  “Fuck,” I said, turning away. “Sorry.”

  There was a silence that followed. I turned, coughing into my hand. The act made her laugh. She leaned back in her chair and wordlessly motioned us to be seated as well.

  I breathed a short sigh of relief.

  Vekrem shook his head and then gave her a condemning look. “It’s alright. We’re… friends.”

  She scoffed at that, but said nothing.

  I took a seat on a blackened wooden chair that was lacquered so heavily that it appeared to glow red, reflecting the fire in the hearth that raged across from me.

  Vekrem knelt, knees down, on a padded pillow that was on the ground. He folded his arms. “So Vhol… “ he mused. “How are you?”