Freda hadn’t exaggerated that my supplies would only suffice until I reached the nearest settlement. Even with smart rationing, I had eaten my last scraps of food as I approached the city. I had been more frugal with my kabettle milk than was healthy, but it was better than risking having none in an emergency. A lesson I didn’t need to learn more than once.

I counted my shells, frowning at how small they were. They weren’t worthless, but I would have to haggle to get a fair price. I slang my bag over my shoulder again and tried to ignore the nervous buzzing as I approached the edge of the buildings. The people were taller than the largest Scorpid I had ever seen. I was accustomed to being the shortest person in the camps I had been in, but I was only half as tall as most of the citizens I passed. I pulled my hood lower to avoid the stares they were giving me.

Everything was larger than my previous camps, the unfamiliar surroundings causing me a low level of anxiety. I lost sight of the desert as soon as I entered the city proper, and I had a sense of being boxed in by the stone structures around me. I took steadying breaths and focused on finding some kind of market. My panic would not help me find food faster.

I wandered in fruitless circles for what seemed like forever, so I decided I needed help. I didn’t have any idea if their markets would resemble the ones I had encountered before. Their stone and metal settlement was overwhelming in its differences to the earth and leather camps I had grown up in.

“Hey, you lost?” I froze when the unfamiliar voice got my attention, turning to find a red-haired individual waving me over to where he stood with his lanky blond friend. I tugged my hood lower, hoping to hide the thin black lines at the outside edges of my eyes, which would reveal I was part of the desert community.

“Yeah, kinda. I’m trying to find a market or shop where I can trade some goods for food. Would you be able to help me?” I stood several feet away from them and took a kabettle shell from my bag. He extended his hand, but I was just outside of his arm’s reach.

He leaned against the wall behind him with a disgruntled scowl. “Might have a hard time finding anyone that will trade you anything for whatever that is. You could convince a generous merchant to hand over three of four copper for the lot, but I doubt it’ll even get you enough for stale crackers. You got any coin on you?” He took a small, round piece of rust colored metal out of his belt pouch and placed it on.

I frowned as I put the shell back in my bag, trying to examine the metal he held while not moving closer. The blond man raised his hand up and glowing silver circles surrounded the iris of both eyes, the coin lifting from the red-haired man’s palm. He floated the copper in my direction and I plucked it from the air, finding it rather cold. I turned it over, examining the odd symbol at the center of both sides.

I tossed the coin in their direction and the blond man caught it with ease, the glow fading from his aqua eyes. “What does the symbol mean?”

The two men exchanged a confused glance, glowing white lines running down the red-headed man’s eyes to his chin. I glanced from one of them to the other, an odd static filling the air. I took a step back, my heart pounding harder by the moment.

My movement grabbed their attention, and the red-haired man smiled, the white lines fading. “Sorry, Jorog and I needed to have a small chat about which vendor can most helpful for your situation. The symbol is how much the coin is worth. You weren’t letting  encountered coins before.”

I furrowed my brows. “Was that Magic?”

Jorog raised an eyebrow. “Of course it was. These are low level Powers that they should teach you in primary training. You appear old enough to be in your secondary lessons. Which Mentor did you train under?”

I held my bag against me as a barrier between me and the men and attempted to think of a convincing lie. “I didn’t get to go to primary training. My guardians were not very responsible, and I imagine I’ve missed many lessons.”

A solid excuse.

The red-headed man crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “That’s a pretty outlandish situation you grew up in. Where are your guardians now, kid?”

Not solid enough, it seems.

Jorog hit his friend’s shoulder and gave him a warning glare. “Quit, Harnin, you’re scaring them. If their guardians were as bad and they’re implying, why by the Deities would they want to tell us more about those people?” Jorog turned to me with an apologetic smile. “Excuse his questions. How about we just bring you to the merchant? Maybe they can even find you a Mentor to get you a proper education.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of their behavior, but I nodded despite my reservations. “That sounds good to me. Thank you, Jorog.”

Jorog led me through the rather quiet city street where we passed shop owners as they opened for the day, Harnin following at a distance. Most of the merchants ignored us, but there were others that watched with frowns, which made me doubt how good a decision it was to go with these men.

I tugged on my hood. “Why do they keep staring at us?”

Jorog shrugged with an easy-going smile. “Who knows? Some people are nosey and will use any excuse to pass around rumors. Don’t worry about them, kid. They hold little value to Descendants like myself.”

I glanced up at him just enough so my hood wouldn’t fall. “Descendants?”

Jorog laughed and shook his head. “You grew up more sheltered than I thought. Magic users. Rather, those who get past primary training. We’re touched by the Deities and blessed with more potent Powers than the everyday person.”

“I hear there are people in the desert who don’t have any Magic.” I hadn’t noticed Harnin had closed the distance between us. “They’re useless freaks who can’t even light a candle. It’s a wonder how they’ve survived out there for so many generations. Their numbers are dwindling. Faer’vool the Destroyer will visit their communities soon.”

I clenched my fists as Harnin insulted my community. Sure, the other Scorpids had never treated me well, but they had more worth than this man was expressing. “I hear they help people get through the deserts. It’s dangerous out there. They don’t sound useless to me.” I hadn’t meant to have rage in my tone, but my control was slipping.

Careful.

Harnin scoffed and moved to walk next to me, leaving me surrounded by the men. “How would they even know which direction to bring people if they cannot feel the energy of their destination?” He looked me up and down. “You’re awful defensive of desert scum.”

I the heat of my Magic spread through my body and I took a deep breath to quell it. “I just think you’re making a lot of assumptions.”

Jorog glared at Harnin and reached over my head to hit his friend in the shoulder again. “Quit it.” He smiled down at me. “Ignore him. You won’t have to deal with him for much longer.”

It relieved me when we reached our destination, but the shabby-looking shop caused my anxiety to spike. I took a step back. “Are you sure this is where you meant to bring me?”

Harnin grabbed my arm with bruising pressure, grinning down at me. “We’re sure.” I struggled to free myself as he dragged me into the shop and Jorog locked the door behind him.

I glared at the blond man. “You tricked me.”

Jorog’s friendly smile morphed into a wicked smirk. “Not at all. We told you we would bring you to a shop who would take your goods.” He ripped my bag away and tossed it to a handsome individual with pointed ears who sported a self-satisfied grin.

The shopkeeper threw my bag into a closet with little regard for my things. “Thank you, gentlemen. Let’s get a good look at what we have under that cloak and then I can evaluate their worth.”

Harnin growled at the shorter individual, a faint white glow emitting from his eyes. “You questioning our judgment on our wares, Dowrin?”

The lithe individual waved their hand in dismissal as they moved behind the counter. “Of course not, my young friend. You know I don’t buy without examining the product. What kind of business man would I be if I underpaid for quality goods.”

Jorog hit his friend’s shoulder again, baring his teeth at Harnin and exposing his pointed canines. He leaned close to the red-haired man’s ear and spoke in hushed tones. “Don’t be an ass. They’re paying for our starting gear, quit messing with a good thing.” The friends locked eyes, and the air filled with the uncomfortable static.

“Fine.” Harnin pushed me into Jorog with a grunt. “You fucking do the negotiations.” He stormed over to the door and leaned on it with crossed arms.

Jorog rolled his eyes and dragged me to the counter, giving Dowrin a charming grin. “I apologize. He’s going through a Spark growth and you know how grumpy that can make a person.”

Dowrin leaned on the counter and played with a lock of loose burgundy hair. “Nothing to worry about, Jorry. We have amiable enough relations that I can forgive this minor offense.” He placed a weathered, long-fingered hand on Jorog’s arm with a flirtatious gaze.

Jorog gave Dowrin a casual smile and laughed. “You have my gratitude. I am in your debt, shopkeeper.”

“Are you two done flirting?” Harnin was unamused by their behavior. “Can we get this sale over with?”

Jorog shot a sharp glare over his shoulder. “You’re so impatient.” He reached for the clasp of my cloak and I slapped him away, my eyes glowing in the shadows of my hood. He snapped his fingers and a trail of green smoke rose out of his palm, which wrapped around my wrists and ankles. In seconds, it solidified into vines covered in thorns which pressed against my skin.

He waved his finger at me. “If you had just behaved, I wouldn’t need to restrain you. Let’s learn what you’re trying to hide under this hood.” Jorog unclasped my cloak and pushed it off of me. He took a half step back as he recognized the markings on my face. “I see why you were so defensive of the desert dwellers.”

I bared my teeth at Jorog and struggled against the vines, masking my fear with anger. “You people call my community scum, but which of us abducts foreigners  off the street and sells them?”

Jorog chuckled and patted the top of my head. “Aw, look, the little Scorpid thinks they’re people.” He turned his gaze to Dowrin again. “Looks like we hit the jackpot with this one. It’s not every day you find a wild desert dweller just wandering the streets. What’s your appraisal of the goods?”

Dowrin stared at me with fascination before walking to the front of their shop. “Bring them here. I need a better look. Many people find it surprising by how common fabricated Scorpids have become. I know you boys wouldn’t try to cheat me, but I must be sure.” Jorog carried me toward the shopkeeper.

I dug my teeth into his shoulder and he dropped me with a pained yell, gripping his injury and glaring at me. I surprised us both when I spit his blood on the floor. Jorog looked at his hand and growled when he found it stained red. “You’re lucky I want to make a profit off you.” He reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a cloth with symbols I didn’t recognize on it. He placed it over my mouth, the fabric clinging to my face after he stepped away from me. “There. Now you’ll be quiet.”

Jorog placed me in the middle of the room and Dowrin circled me, mumbling in hushed tones to himself and moving closer with every circuit. He came to a halt in front of me and grabbed my chin, tracing the Life lines on my face. “Interesting patterns. Much more developed than I expected for someone their age. That’ll bump the price up for both of us.” He rubbed his fingers together and smiled. “Good news, boys. You somehow found yourself a genuine Scorpid. What were you looking to get for the kid?”

Jorog rubbed the already healing bite mark and looked me over as I might if I found a wild herd of kabettles. My heart pounded as I realized I wasn’t a person to these individuals. I squeezed my eyes closed and attempted to call on my Magic to burn away the vines, but my fear made it hard to concentrate. I gave up and watched Jorog and Dowrin haggle over my worth in their little pieces of metal. The pounding in my ears drowned out their words, so I used that time to memorize their faces. I remembered everyone who had wronged me, and these people were going to the top of my mental vengeance list.

They shook hands and Dowrin went to the counter again to count out the agreed upon price. My whole being was numb and nothing felt real. I tried to tell myself I was having a nightmare as the room spun around me. I let out a muffled yelp when the shopkeeper picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

“A pleasure doing business with you boys. Let me know if you find any more wandering Scorpids. There’s good coin in buying and selling from the Shardless. It’s a kindness, to be honest. A life without Magic? No thank you, I would rather be dead.” They escorted the men to the door and locked it again when Jorog and Harnin had passed their threshold. “Just you and I now, eh?” They laughed as they carried me down a narrow set of stairs. I attempted to protest, but the cloth still clung to my face. “No use trying to speak. That thing stays firm for an entire cycle, so I’ll make sure you get fed as soon as it falls off.”

They brought me to a small, dark room and placed me on a stiff cot in the corner. “This isn’t very comfortable, but get used to this kind of environment. Rest well, child. Can’t have my top shelf product looking tired.” He slammed the door closed and locked it behind him.

I stared at the darkened ceiling and tears ran down the sides of my face as I contemplated my situation. I had been in dangerous situations, but I had never been so helpless.

What have you gotten yourself into this time?