COF 2: The Soul Spells

4 | Captive (II)

Outside, she could barely hear metal striking metal, a strange whirring noise, and a dozen loud honks. She caught a whiff of coal burning and noticed the sky was painted gray with plumes of smoke.

Reeca's mind whirled. Circular buildings, metal clanking against metal, a faint smell of coal burning. Where in Umazure was this?

"Client shoulda veen hither by now," a man harrumphed. Reeca pivoted her neck to get a glimpse. This one was lean, broad-chested, tall, and inked. Swirling patterns resembling different figures splashed across his chest, his arms, and even to his cheeks. He looked older than Reeca and was almost Rhys's age, though with fairies, it's quite hard to tell.

He crouched and forced Reeca to look up to him by her chin. "Now I see why Garbin thought ya a treasure," he grinned to show teeth with black spots. "Different colors issa treasure indeed."

Reeca averted her eyes to anywhere but that youth's black-ridden teeth and hairy brows. She despised the muddy finger pressed against her chin.

"Get off me," she rasped, her voice coarse through her dry throat.

The inked youth grinned and turned to his companions. "Maybe we ain't throwing 'er off after they got them see-ers. Shall we 'ave 'er at a talent market? That voice ain't a dagrine's ass."

They erupted in laughter, the stout man, Garbin, especially the loudest.

"Aye thar li'l prissy will be worth our trudge from Anchester!" a third man bellowed. Three piercings shone from his left ear, contrasting against his dark complexion. He stood bare-chested, with only a kilt around his waist and no footwear at all. His dark eyes glared down at Reeca with blazing intensity.

Reeca pursed her lips. What was a fire sprite doing with these men?

She watched as the sprite clapped the back of another man who grinned and showed only two front teeth. Reeca peered deeper and entered trail vision. His trail was unremarkable. Only a human or a banshee have that trait.

Front-teeth man garbled something Reeca didn't catch and elbowed another man who stood mutely beside him. The man smiled thinly, his light brown hair slightly messy. He wore a vested tunic and a smooth cloak tied around his neck. His brown eyes stared into space. A Brownie, most likely.

Reeca's mind tallied all her observation of the men who captured her: Garbin who was either human or a banshee, the youth who was more likely to be a half-blood, the fire sprite, the front-teeth man who, like Garbin, might be a human or a banshee, and the brownie. It must be the brownie who sneaked up behind her. It's almost impossible to detect their presence when they vanish.

Garbin said something in their diverse language and the men erupted in laughter. Blood rushed to Reeca's face. In her mind's eye, she saw how pathetic she looked. Tied to the ground with her eyes about to become meat in someone else's salad. Pathetic. Rhys would never let her live this down if he ever saw it.

Think, Reeca.

Her mind ran through her options. It would be impossible to stand up with her legs tied to her chest. Springing up would be out of the question. Reeca rested her head on the cobbled road. The rocks dug against her temples.

The client still hasn't shown up and the men lost interest in her and instead focused on downing their ales from their mugs. They started talking about breasts and other things just as lewd. Reeca rolled her eyes. Ugh, men.

She looked around. They appeared to be in some kind of tavern but darker, damper, and smellier. A lone brownie sat on a table farthest from Reeca, not eating anything. His hands were folded calmly on the table, half of his face hidden in the shadows.