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Chapter 2 - Chains and Shadows

The cold stone beneath me cracked.

A sound like bones snapping echoed through the square.

Then—

It shattered.

A deafening roar followed as the altar split apart, sending shards of stone into the air. Dust rushed up my nose, choking me in the taste of dirt and ash.

The bonfire beside me spat flames higher, embers spiraling into the black sky. Dry straw caught instantly, and the banners burned to curling black scraps in seconds.

The chanting stopped.

Screams took its place.

Villagers shoved past each other, trampling anyone too slow to move. Panic tore through the crowd.

Through the chaos, three figures moved in a way that made something crawl under my skin. Not the stumbling run of the terrified, but deliberate, practiced steps. Masks covered their faces. Eyes sharp and searching all over the mess until they found me.

The ropes bit into my wrists. Blood slicked my skin where the fibers had cut too deep.

The first masked figure dropped to one knee beside me, sliding a knife so close to my arm. The ropes fell away from my wrists. Another went for my legs, sawing through the bindings in short, quick jerks.

The third stood back, scanning the chaos.

I didn't thank them.

Instead, my lips curled into a slow, deliberate grin. The kind that said, I already know something you don't.

They thought they were rescuing me.

A shadow fell across me. One of them bent lower, reaching to haul me upright.

"Who were these morons trying to save me?" I thought, tilting my head so the torchlight caught my teeth. "About time I got some slaves to do the running for me."

Before I could say more, the leader hooked an arm under mine and yanked me onto my feet.

The square was chaos.

Knights in mismatched armor shoved through screaming villagers, trying to form a wall between the fire and the temple. The priestess shrieked orders, her voice breaking with fury.

A knight lunged at us. On instinct, I shifted my weight, letting the trafficker tug me aside—just enough for the knight to stumble past me. My foot snaked out. The knight went down hard, helmet cracking against stone.

I laughed, sharp and loud over the noise.

The leader didn't look back, just dragged me toward the edge of the square.

The second trafficker—faster than the others—slipped between two guards. His blade flashed once, twice, and both knights clutched their legs, roaring as they crumpled.

We ducked into a narrow alley. Smoke chased us in.

"Move!" the leader barked.

I didn't need telling. Not because I wanted to be free—no, that would've been too… expected. I just wanted a better view of the chaos.

A villager bolted into our path, eyes wide, face slick with soot. I stepped aside just in time to plant my foot squarely into his back, sending him sprawling into two pursuing guards. The crash of armor and curses was music.

I laughed again.

The second trafficker shot me a look over his shoulder, like he wasn't sure if I was insane or dangerous. I gave him my best both smile.

We burst from the alley into another street, this one already half-collapsed from falling debris.

A knight rounded the corner ahead of us. The leader didn't slow. He shoved me forward—straight at the knight.

Reflex overrode reason. My hands shot out, grabbing the edge of the knight's shield, and I twisted hard. His own momentum sent the shield slamming into his helmet with a metallic clang. He staggered, dazed, just in time for the second trafficker to slash him across the chest.

I laughed softly.

The leader grabbed my arm again and pulled me along.

We cut through another alley, this one darker, walls dripping with moisture. The air was thick here, tasting of rot.

Somewhere behind us, a knight's voice bellowed for reinforcements.

I turned my head just in time to see a robed mage raise glowing hands. His lips moved fast, shaping a spell.

Opportunity.

A half-burnt banner dangled from the wall above him. I reached up, yanked it loose, and let it drop. The flaming edge caught the mage's hood. He screamed, clawing at the cloth. The light in his hands died instantly.

I grinned, smoke curling around my face, and laughed.

We didn't stop.

The street opened into a shadowed courtyard. In the center, a covered cart waited, horses stamping nervously at the smell of smoke.

The leader ripped his mask off, revealing a scar that split his lip into a permanent sneer.

Before I could speak, two of them grabbed me—one under each arm. My feet left the ground.

I tilted my head back and laughed.

The scarred man's sneer widened.

"Oh, you'll pay," he said. "Pretty thing like you? You'll pay more than you know."

I barely had time to throw him a mock salute before something heavy slammed into the back of my head.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

***

When I woke, my first thought was that the air was wrong.

It was heavy. Stale. Damp, with the sour tang of unwashed bodies and something metallic underneath—blood, faint but clinging.

I opened my eyes to iron.

Thick bars rose on all sides, bolted into stone. Rust streaked down them in dark red trails. Chains dangled from the ceiling, each ending in cruel hooks. The floor was rough stone, wet in places. My clothes stuck to me with cold sweat.

A single torch burned outside the cage, its flame too weak to push back the shadows. In that dim light, I could see other cages. Some empty. Some… not.

Shapes sat in the corners, too still to be sleeping.

I stretched slowly, testing. My wrists were free—but the bars laughed at that small freedom.

The traffickers hadn't gagged me. Mistake number one.

My grin returned, sharper this time.

They thought a cage could hold me. That chains could tame me.

All they'd done was give me a place to plan.

The torch outside my cage flickered.

A figure sat on a stool just beyond the bars—big man, broad shoulders, skin weathered like old leather. His jaw worked slowly, chewing something.

He noticed me looking.

"You're awake," he said, voice a gravel scrape.

I smiled without blinking.

"Alive, too. Amazing, isn't it? You people usually can't manage both."

He spat to the side.

"You'll keep your mouth shut unless you want it broken."

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees.

"Oh, I'd hate that. How would I tell you about the rats in your pockets?"

His chewing slowed.

"There ain't no—"

I tilted my head, eyes darting to his hip. "Left pocket. Bottom seam. They've been nibbling your food since we came in. Or maybe that's just your smell."

He slapped the pocket instinctively. Found crumbs. Swore under his breath.

I laughed softly.

"You see? Already I'm more useful than you."

He stood halfway, stool creaking behind him.

"You got a tongue on you. Won't last long."

"Oh, I'll last," I said, teeth flashing. "Longer than your career, anyway. Tell me—when's the last time you caught someone who wanted to be caught?"

He froze.

I could almost hear the thought rattle around in his skull. "Wanted" wasn't in the script for prey.

I leaned back against the bars, stretching like I owned the place.

"You think you're in control because I'm sitting here. But you're already dancing to my tune, big man. I say 'pocket,' you check it. I say 'smell,' you sniff yourself. Next thing, I'll tell you to open this cage just to prove you're not scared of me."

He barked a laugh—too loud, too forced.

"You ain't that clever."

I chuckled low.

"And you ain't that smart. But I like you. You're… malleable. Like wet clay. Or rotten bread."

He gripped the bars, leaning close enough that I could smell his breath—ale and onions.

"You keep talking like that and I'll—"

"What?" I cut in. "Hit me? Break a few ribs? Maybe knock me out again so you can feel like a man?"

His eyes narrowed.

I kept smiling.

"Do it. You'll only prove me right. And when your friends ask why you had to knock out the smallest, thinnest catch in the lot, I'll tell them you were scared."

The torchlight caught the twitch in his jaw.

I leaned in until only the bars separated us.

"You're going to open this cage one day. Not because you want to. Because I'll make you think it's your idea. And when you do…" My grin widened. "…I'll show you what a real mistake feels like."

For the first time, he stepped back.

Not far. Just enough to break the spell.

I leaned against the bars again, laughing softly to myself.

The game had started.

And he didn't even know he was already losing.

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