Page 3 of Given to the Fae (The Dark Realms #3)

The sun is setting now, so I go back to the barn and finish my work that the troll interrupted earlier.

By the time I’m done, the moon has risen and I sigh.

I’ve missed the daily meal. Plodding across the yard, I make for the torches on the other side of The Barrack.

Curt, one of the goblins from earlier, cackles as I get closer.

‘No food left,’ he chuckles. ‘You should have been here before.’

I nod, unsurprised and I turn on my heel to go to the female side of what they call the dormitories but is actually just a row of thin pallets on the dirt floor of a room, which we all have to share.

When I get inside, the lone torch flickering in the sconce on the far wall shows me that all the pallets are taken.

I sigh heavily, dragging my hungry, weary body to the end of the row where I lie down in the dirt close enough to one of the girls that I can share a little heat.

She immediately rolls away, snuggling in with the others. ‘You let one of us be punished in your stead again, Bryn,’ she hisses. ‘We heard all about it from Sara! You aren’t welcome.’ She punctuates her words with a bony elbow to my side, making me grunt in pain.

So that’s the new girl’s name… The dirty fibber.

A moment later, the girl on the other side kicks her in the head and she stifles her yelp before she turns her head towards me once more.

‘Worth it, Kismet!’ she hisses, turning back over and not giving me a moment to explain that that wasn’t what happened at all, that Sara is a jealous, lying cow.

I’m left alone on the ground. No dinner. No pallet. No blanket. No comfort.

I try not to let them hear my telltale sniffles as I close my eyes and attempt to get some sleep.

Locke

Breach travel wearies me.

Actually, that’s not quite true. I hate it.

I fucking hate it. Each Circle of the Dark Realms is worse than the one before it as far as I’m concerned.

But needs must, I suppose. Traversing the Bridges is as necessary as breathing.

Either that or the past year of preparation, of research and information-gathering, will have been for naught.

I watch Morgan and Jak in my periphery from my place astride my horse’s back.

I make sure nothing I do is conspicuous, out of the ordinary.

None of the others in our band of ten fae are aware that the three of us knew each other before we joined the ranks of Bere’s loathsome troop.

As far as they’re aware, we only met when we joined this group of skin traders a few months ago separately , and we need to keep it that way.

Bere, the leader, gestures up ahead to the great stone arch before us.

‘Last Gate,’ he says from the corner of his mouth, holding his cheroot between his teeth on the other side, ‘and we’ll be able to swap cargoes.’

Humans. He means humans.

I glance at the two women and five men in our cargo .

Travel has been slow, so they don’t succumb to Gate Sickness.

Too slow. I’ll be glad when this is done.

I don’t lock eyes with any of them, not even Soreno and Tori, our agents who aren’t as one-hundred percent human as they look.

They all must be treated the same, or the past months’ work will have been a waste of time and lives.

I do make sure the magickal signatures on them are still strong just in case, though.

We need to make completely sure we can find them after they’re sold on, after all.

The Gate opens, the thunderous noise making the horses a little skittish, but our mounts are used to this, so none try to bolt as the Breach opens to allow us to finish the final leg of our journey.

The procession enters the tunnel, two by two, walking through to the other side as if it were merely an extension of the road.

I suppose it is in some ways, but I dislike the way the energy inside makes my hair stand on end, and my gut clench.

There’s always a part of me, no matter how many times I travel this way, that wonders if I’ll make it out the other side or get lost and be cursed to wander the ether until I starve to death.

But I go through without hesitation as I always do.

Bere glances at me and laughs. I told him about my fear once while I was deep into my cups.

Well, at least that’s what I made him believe.

He thinks we’re close friends, a necessity on my part so that when my predecessor went ‘missing’ six months ago, I was named to take the cunt’s place by our indomitable leader.

Indomitable.

We’ll see.

I manage to appear rueful when I know the others, apart from Morgan and Jak who are in on the ruse, aren’t looking at me. I play my part well. It’s one of the reasons I was chosen for this.

Bere guffaws. ‘Only one more, my friend, and then we celebrate the trade!’

The others in the group whoop, and we emerge on the side of a hill on the gloomiest world I’ve ever seen. The early morning sun is warm, but muted, as if it’s making its way to us through a haze of dust.

I frown at the sky. It’s clear. Not a cloud in it.

The air is warm, a normal temperature for summer, and yet the few trees’ leaves are shriveled and brown.

I see the others surveying the place similarly and coming to the same conclusion as I am.

I’ve seen it a few times in my travels through the Circles.

This rock is dying.

And, my nostrils flare, it stinks of unwashed humans.

Slaves.

I’ve heard of this place, The Barrack, but I’ve never been here before. The smell alone makes me hope I never have to return to it after our business here is done.

We enter the skin traders’ outpost, everyone on their guards just in case. It wouldn’t be the first time we were ambushed by opportunists intent on gutting us all and stealing our slaves. They’re worth their weight in gold these days, after all, especially the breedable females.

Gods, it makes me sick how they’re treated, but what’s worse is how they treat each other, what they feel they must do to survive the Dark Realms. Half the slavers I’ve met over the past few years have been at least part human and yet they sell their brethren with no more thought than they’d give to a horse or a pig.

Bere has to order the females separated sometimes because they fight each other like dogs for scraps.

..or for male attention. Even the bulls, used to tussling with each other, typically already know their hierarchies, so they don’t tend to tear each other to pieces.

The females, though, are almost as ruthless as their cruel masters, and some of them are cleverer as well.

Is what we’re doing for nothing? I’m wondering this more and more the longer I spend out here in these backwater worlds.

No.

I have to believe that our work in the Dark Realms can change things for the better so that what I endured will one day happen for the last time…and then never again.

I let out a breath and have to almost force myself to draw another from the fetid air as I glance at the bulls in their smaller yard, sectioned away from the females who are allowed to wander, doing chores like cooking and cleaning for the outpost and its inhabitants.

I don’t care about any of it, but Bere will ask my opinion later on which of them we should trade for or buy outright.

I assess the bulls as we go by, picking out the ones with the strongest backs and broadest shoulders, the ones that will be easier to sell in the lower Circles.

The females are more difficult, though I know Bere will request a close look at them all anyway, so I don’t worry too much about them.

A large orc with long, midnight blue hair in a knot on the top of his head and two long knives at his belt appears from one of the out-buildings. He raises a hand in greeting and our procession halts. His eyes flick to the slaves we’ve brought, taking them in quickly before giving a nod.

Bere dismounts first, and I follow his lead. We approach the orc, and I notice overseers of various creeds watching for any problems. They slink around, their eyes always on the slaves and constantly moving almost as if they’re afraid they’ll be overrun at any moment.

I snort at the ridiculous thought. The rabble of humans I’ve seen so far barely look well enough to run twenty paces let alone take down even one armed guard together.

‘Come to trade?’ the orc asks, his eyes not leaving Bere’s.

‘Aye.’

‘I’m Sio. Commander Ogdan will be out in a moment.’

Bere points his thumb at himself. ‘Bere.’ Then at me. ‘Locke.’

‘Males or females?’ Sio asks, eyeing our cargo almost lazily.

Bere shrugs. ‘At least one or two bulls.’ He gives a sly smile. ‘Not sure about the females. We’ll have to see your stock to decide.’

Sio nods, clearly expecting this, and I pretend I’m as interested in seeing them as our leader is.

‘Get them out here,’ the orc mutters to one of the nearby goblins who are hanging about and listening to our exchange.

He nods and walks off. I hear him bellowing a moment later and there’s a flurry of activity as all the females in the outpost line up on the road for Bere and I to survey.

‘You inspected the bulls?’ Bere asks me and I nod.

‘Aye. The one with the longer hair and the other with the dog inked into his chest look the most virile at first glance.’

Bere nods. ‘Unload the cargo,’ he calls, and the others finally get down from their horses.

The females are let out of the cart. Tori’s eyes catch mine for an instant before she trains them on the ground in front of her. If she’s afraid or nervous, she doesn’t show it. I don’t worry about her. She’s trained for this.

Similarly, Soreno and the other bull are placed next to the females.

He prances in place a little as if impatient to be rutting a female and I tell him silently not to be so deliberate.

These cunts aren’t fools, and we’re all dead if they suspect anything.

There’s no one all the way out here in the Eleventh Circle to help us.