Copper Snare_A Vampire Girl Novella Page 3

  Ace tore his gaze from Malin’s and joined his brothers, and Malin slipped back into her cage and tried to slow the beating of her heart as the door clanked shut, as the lock clinked closed.

  Malin clutched at the bars, her palms sweating, her chained wrists stinging, until the princes and the king left the courtyard. Daylight was fading into hazy twilight, and the guards lit a few torches on either side of the line of cages but did nothing else to take care of the prisoners. Clearly the bedraggled, shackled Fae were expected to relieve themselves where they stood and to shiver in the cold until the auction in the morning. Lovely.

  Most of the prisoners were quiet as darkness closed in. The guards played cards on stools near the doorway, drinking from flasks they pulled furtively from the folds of their tunics, as dogs from the town howled into the night. Foria wept, her terror creeping along Malin’s bones until she couldn’t take it anymore. She turned to Saana. “If the girl stays, the one named Levi will destroy her,” she murmured. “If not her body, then her spirit.”

  “If she is too weak or stupid to protect herself, then that’s what she deserves,” Saana shot back, her lips barely moving. “We cannot be distracted from our mission.”

  “I know.” But it didn’t sit right with Malin. Not at all. She wished she could be more like Saana and Zoran, zealots, believers in the star-given right of Fae to rule Inferna, so much so that it justified any and all actions they might take, no matter how brutal or heartless. It would be so much easier that way. “Foria,” she whispered after a few minutes.

  The girl didn’t answer, but she did fall silent.

  “Where is your family? Who sent you into the woods?”

  “I was with my father when we were captured,” Foria said in a strained voice. “They killed him because he fought to keep them from taking me.” She let out a low sob.

  “Quiet,” snapped Malin before trying to soften her tone. “Which part of the Outlands do you come from?”

  “I … am not from here.”

  “Of course you’re not from here. But if I were to help you get out of this courtyard—”

  “Malin,” said Saana. “Don’t you dare.”

  “Nothing I do will impact the mission,” Malin said sharply. She fixed Saana with a hard look. “And that means you need not worry further.” With that, she turned her back on the woman, facing Foria. “Where will you go if you’re freed? Even if you do get through the city and beyond its perimeter, it’s a long way to the boundary wall.”

  Foria’s eyes were huge under the moonlight. “I know a way. There’s a door. A Waystone.”

  “A what?”

  “Quiet down there,” shouted a guard, this one with a thatch of blond hair. “Another word and I’ll hang you upside down for the night!”

  Foria cringed and pressed her lips together, but her eyes were pleading with Malin, full of terror and hope.

  This could work, Malin thought. I can do this. Now there were only two guards on duty, and both were drinking hard, knowing their vampire lords were probably doing the same inside the luxury of the palace. The timing was ideal.

  While Saana grumbled and Zoran stared in silent outrage, Malin slipped her fingers along the waist of her leather breeches and carefully pulled out the thin, flexible strip of metal she’d hidden there. When Prince Ace had questioned the locks, she wondered if he’d seen what she had—these were actually a snap to pick. Keeping a close eye on the guards as their heads lolled and the scarred one let out a loud snore, Malin folded the strip in half and used the two ends together first to open her shackles, then to depress the wards inside the lock on her cage. She cradled the lock’s weight in her palm, heavy and cold, as it fell open. Then she slid it free of the latch on her cage, careful not to let metal clank against metal.

  The other Fae were silent now, though she could read the pleas in their eyes. With the exception of Zoran and Saana, all of them were desperate to escape. How would it look if certain Fae escaped while a few remained in their cages? Bad. Suspicious. Foria was the only one of them who had been threatened with treatment that would kill her in a way no sword could. Foria was the one she had to help right now.

  “Have faith,” she whispered along the line. “Have hope.”

  Her hope was that this would keep them quiet as she stepped out of her cage and loped over to the two dozing guards. Summoning her strength, she slammed the lock into the side of the scarred guard’s head, causing him to slide off his stool and land in a boneless heap in the dirt As the other one jerked awake, she gave him the same treatment, but he had time to let out a shout before a second blow sent him into unconsciousness. She then splashed the heavy drink they’d been chugging over their heads, hoping others would blame the alcohol instead of her. Knowing it was only a matter of time before others came to investigate the noise, Malin sprinted back to Foria’s cage and picked the lock, which was much faster than fumbling with the guards’ keys—she’d always had a keen understanding for such things. Long ago, her father had taught her all about hunting with traps and snares, and the thing that had interested her the most, far more than the quarry, was the way the things worked, the way simple parts came together to create something that could catch a living thing, sustain a family, make the impossible possible. In a tribe full of fading, frustrated magic, she’d been far more interested in levers, pulleys, hinges, anything that could speed the work. It had made her an oddball—and it was why Ekan had chosen her specifically for this mission.

  A mission she was straying from in this moment, but she’d get back on the trail of it soon enough. As soon as she saved Foria from the Prince of Envy. She dismantled Foria’s shackles entirely, using her flexible metal tool to unscrew the poorly constructed metal plates and let the pieces fall to the ground. The young Fae leapt from the cage, all desperate energy, and sprinted across the courtyard, so swiftly that Malin had trouble keeping up.

  “Come,” Foria said between ragged breaths. “I know how to get us far from here! Back to our homeland!”

  “The Outlands is a league from here, and the gate is closed—”

  “Not the Outlands!”

  The young girl nimbly scaled the fortified wall, her slender fingers and toes finding every available foothold and grasping point. Near the top, she looked back once. “Come!”

  Malin shook her head. “Go. I can’t.”

  With one last, frustrated look, Foria disappeared over the wall, leaving behind only the rapidly fading sounds of her footsteps.

  Shouts from within the castle jolted Malin. Someone had raised the alarm. She cursed—she’d planned to be safely back in her cage by the time anyone realized Foria was gone, but now it was too late for that. Her gaze skimmed the courtyard. Saana and Zoran were glaring at her in angry disbelief while the other Fae were wearing various looks of despair and fear, knowing escape was beyond their reach now, maybe wondering what was going to happen to Malin …

  Because now soldiers were entering the courtyard. Now they saw their fallen comrades.

  And now they had noticed her, sending frenzied panic through her veins. For a moment, her mission abandoned her mind, and all she knew was surviving. She skirted the wall of the courtyard as the guards came after her. When the first guard blocked her path, she spun out of his way and grabbed his club from his belt as she did. She slammed it into his head in the next moment before taking off again. She downed another guard with a sharp jab of her foot to his groin, then finally reached a low section of the wall that led to the main road where the princes had ridden into the palace grounds. She vaulted over the barrier. She was going to make a break for it, maybe figure out how to rescue the others, maybe find a way to complete the mission from the outside. Something. She would do something. Right now she had to stay free.

  Her feet hit the cobblestones, and just ahead of her, she witnessed a miracle—the palace gate was actually open! Maybe because they were expecting one of the other princes, maybe because Prince Fenris’s guards were sorely undisciplined�
�she didn’t care. All that mattered was escape, and—

  Her arm snagged on something midstride, and she was jerked back. Heavy footsteps rumbled behind her as she stared down at her wrist, now encircled with a metal cuff connected to a chain.

  A chain that was inconveniently connected to a similar cuff, encircling the wrist of a tall man who stepped from the shadows.

  Prince Ace. He smiled at her as he held up his arm, showing off the cuffs. “I think you’ll find these a good deal better constructed than your previous shackles,” he said amiably as guards surrounded them. He put his hand out, clearly signaling that they should stand down, and inclined his head in the direction of the courtyard and the cages. “Shall we?”

  Chapter 3

  Meeting of Minds

  You are asking me to be complicit in the slaughter of my own people, and that is a cruelty far worse than any torture you could visit upon me.

  —Malin

  “Have they got lock-picking magic now, too?” Fenris asked, clearly annoyed as he paced the meeting room.

  “No—the Fae woman had a tool,” Ace said. He chuckled quietly and held it up, still bemused by its simplicity.

  Levi squinted at it. “That’s it? That’s all it took to escape from the domain of the Prince of War?” He shot a haughty look at Fenris. “I am suddenly very concerned about the security of the Seven Realms, if a slave can waltz away so easily. No prisoner would make it out of my palace alive.”

  Dean groaned. “Yes, yes, we get it, you’re very scary, no one to be trifled with, blah blah.”

  Lucian frowned as he stared into the fire. “I want to make sure I understand. The dull-brained, copper-haired one—she tried to escape—”

  “I think she was more interested in helping the young Fae make it out,” said Ace. “She’s clearly the one who freed the girl, not the other way around.” The copper-haired Fae had fought and spit as Ace had taken her back to her cage, enough so that he didn’t feel bad tossing her in there and slamming the door shut again, nor when he closed one of his own locks over its latch, nor when he deprived her of the tool she’d clearly used to pick the first primitive lock. He had known in an instant it would be easy to do … he just hadn’t believed any of the Fae would realize the same thing.

  “We should hunt the girl who got away,” growled Levi. “I’ll run her to ground.”

  “Do it if you want,” said Fenris. “But the auction will proceed at dawn, as planned. I have other things to do—there is word that rebels are massing at the gates to the Seven Realms, and we must be ready.” He shot a meaningful look at Ace, who held up his hands.

  “It’s on the barge,” Ace said. “Should be here in a day or so, maybe sooner.”

  “Good,” said Levi. “Because our little brother apparently needs all the help he can get.” With that, Levi turned on his heel and stalked from the room, clearly determined to catch his lost prize. It made Ace a little sick to think of what would happen to the young Fae if Levi did catch her, and for a moment, he hoped she would escape.

  “So, Ace,” said Dean, leaning on a table, a goblet of wine in hand. “How did you catch the creature who took out four of dear Fen’s guards? I’ve never taken you for a fighter.”

  “I’m not. I happened to be in the right place at the right time,” Ace replied. He pulled the cuffs from his pouch and tossed them onto the table. “I had just retrieved these from one of my attendants because it was clear Fen’s locksmith doesn’t know what the devil he’s doing.”

  Fen scowled. “He’s new. I’ll have a talk with him.”

  “Do,” said Ace. “Show him my design. Strong and light, impossible to pick. Even with this.” He held up the flexible strip of metal he’d taken off the copper-haired Fae woman. Examining it yet again, he could barely suppress a smile—and what was probably an absolutely terrible idea.

  The sun was rising over the mountain as the auction began. Nobles from most of the realms along with their king and four of their princes—Levi had returned moments before, a sour look of foiled lust and violence on his face—had gathered to bid. While Levi pushed his way to the front, Ace hung back, watching as the auctioneer led one of the captured, a tall male Fae with green hair and hooded eyes, up a short set of steps to the display platform that had been erected in front of the cages.

  As the bidding began, Ace found his gaze straying to the copper-haired female. She seemed riveted on the auction, oblivious of his attention, so he let himself observe at his leisure. She really was pretty for a Fae. Her hair was thick and shiny, pulled back into a practical braid. Her body was strong, leanly muscled, not waifish or weak. If she were able to stand up straight—which was impossible in those little metal cages--she was likely almost as tall as Ace was, and her skin had a tawny hue that suggested days spent in the sunlight. Her ears … well, they were the ears of a Fae, long and pointed at the crests, but elegant in their own way.

  He blinked as he found himself staring, and turned his thoughts to the part of her that truly fascinated him. Her mind. Its ceaseless activity was apparent in her keen, dark eyes. He’d suspected as soon as he’d seen her that she was smarter than she was letting on, and he’d been right. She was clearly mechanically inclined, too, with a natural sense for machines. No way could she have picked the locks as quickly as she had—no way could she completely dismantle one of them, leaving it in pathetic pieces on the ground—without an instinctual sense of them.

  The auctioneer banged his gavel on his metal podium as the tall male Fae was purchased by Fen while Father looked on bitterly and Dean let out a ponderous sigh. Clearly it had been a battle to the highest bid, and now … now the soldiers were bringing her up the steps, their grips bruising on her arms, punishing her for the night before. Despite the pain she must have been in, she met Fen’s gaze steadily as she passed, then stood with her head held high.

  “Here we have a female of middling age,” said the auctioneer. “Appears reasonably well-nourished, with no apparent scars or markings. Good, healthy teeth and a solid build, with no obvious physical problems that could impair her ability to engage in manual labor. Captured yesterday, initially docile. Like the others in the group, she was carrying no weapons that would indicate she is a rebel.” He narrowed his eyes at the prisoner. “But last night, she attempted escape. Prospective buyers should be warned that she may require additional monitoring and discipline to tame. Claims to have skill in …” The auctioneer consulted his parchment. “Carrying things.”

  Ace snorted, then covered his mouth and gripped his jaw firmly when a few of the nobles gave him odd looks. When he glanced back at the woman on the platform, she was most decidedly not giving him an odd look.

  She was glaring at him.

  He probably deserved that. If it hadn’t been for Ace, she’d likely be free.

  When the auctioneer called for an opening bid, there was silence for a moment, and Ace suddenly felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff, arms spread. It was the strangest sensation, the oddest feeling, as he lifted his hand, signaling his willingness to pay the reserve amount.

  After a few more seconds of quiet in which the female continued to stare daggers at him, Ace thought he might have her for the lowest price, and that foreign giddiness rose up in him again, making him feel like he was about to jump into open air. But then Levi waved his jeweled dagger, upping the bid. And when the Prince of Envy looked over at him, when Ace saw the vicious sneer that curled Levi’s lip, he knew he was in for a battle.

  The thing was, Levi didn’t want the woman because of her mind, her cleverness, her strength, her resourcefulness. He didn’t even want her for her beauty. Levi wanted to punish her for releasing the young Fae he had wanted to own and use. Levi wanted to show this woman what happened to those who defied him.

  Ace loved his brother, and normally he didn’t oppose him. Normally he didn’t care enough. But this time? This time it mattered, even though Ace wasn’t sure he knew exactly why. All he knew was that he was going to bid
until he had no coin left. This time, he was going to win at all costs. Levi kept raising the dagger, more forcefully each round, until he was stabbing it into the air every time he drove up the price.

  As the auctioneer’s voice rose in pitch and speed and excitement, notching up with every bid, Ace started keeping his arm up, all while he kept his face free from expression. This wasn’t about anger or lust. It was about practicality. It would be a terrible waste to break this woman. She could be so useful. She could be a wonderful helper, Ace believed, if she were treated properly, respected for her ideas. Surely she’d tried to escape simply because she didn’t know things could be all right for slaves, if they cooperated and showed they could contribute. Ace would make that possible for this one.

  He might even make her his Keeper.

  With that thought, that crazy thought, Ace opened his mouth and shouted out a number so high that Levi, already pale, turned positively white. The auctioneer blinked at Ace, slack-jawed. Fenris stared, and Dean whistled, low and appreciative. And their father the king laughed. “At least we know he’s capable of a fight!”

  Ace ignored all of that. He didn’t care. His heart was hammering, and he was breathing as if he’d ridden full bore across the countryside like the demon prince he was.

  “Sold,” said the auctioneer, still sounding bemused. “Sold to the Prince of Sloth for a princely sum indeed.”

  Ace grinned. “Neat.”

  He looked at his new slave, expecting her to smile as she realized that he already believed she was valuable, as she understood that he had saved her from Levi. She was smart enough to know what might have happened if his brother had bought her; it had to be the reason she had freed the young Fae the night before. But as he met the copper-haired beauty’s eyes, all he saw was a murderous hatred.