After “greeting” Cass, Rat went back towards an archway in the far wall. A separate room, perhaps? Cass tried to avoid attention, but she had been arrested once before. The cell she was put in was cramped, dark, and damp and it definitely did not have a second room. She had been lucky that a kind hearted guard had released her, but she did not hope that it would happen a second time.

Another person came towards her, a girl, maybe a year older than Cass herself, with dark, wavy hair. Every Boss had underlings, and Cass prepared herself for the worst, she would probably be beaten to make certain that she “knew her place.”

“Don’t worry none,” the girl said as she saw Cass flinch. “Ain’t nobody going to hurt somethin’ that Rat claimed. I would know, cause I’m Birdie.”

Cass did not relax, Birdie’s hair might be long, but Cass noticed the bruises on her neck. They looked vaguely like handprints, even if the others wouldn’t touch her, she was far from safe.

Birdie noticed her glance and laughed, “Everythin’s got a price kid, you should know that much if you came off the street.”

Cass nodded, she did indeed know that. And considering the broken kid in the corner, some bruises might be a small price to pay… But that did not stop her fear.

She let Birdie take her hand and pull her forward and introduce her to some of the other kids in the cell, nodding when she was supposed to and keeping her mouth shut. Orphans learned quickly that no one wanted to hear them, and that few people were shy about letting a noisy orphan know that with fists and feet.

“Heh, you’re even quieter than most of the dregs dragged in here.” Birdie snorted, “At least tell us what to call you.”

“Cass.” Her reply was quiet, few orphans had a real name and few people had a real name as dangerous as hers. She would have lied, but if someone in here knew her and told Rat, Cass did not want to imagine the punishment.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Birdie blinked, then sneered. “Ha, looks like we got ourselves a little noblewoman. My apologies, Milady.” Birdie did an exaggerated bow as the others snickered.

Cass silently cursed the priest who had given her that name, back when she was too young to realize the danger it had. Cass was short for Cassandra, which was a noble name. For an orphan to even have a part of a nobles name bordered on blasphemy, which was another reason for Cass to keep her mouth shut around others. As much as the thugs and thieves and whores of the streets hated nobles, they would never be able to take out their anger on them, but Cass was close at hand. Even though she was no more nobility than she was a tree, the name alone was reason for some to vent their rage on her.

“Birdie, don’t be sucha bitch.” A ten year old boy drawled out, Cass remembered his name was Stone. “Ain’t got much of a choice wit’ your name, right? It is what it is.”

“Come to think,” Stone continued, “You should be thankin’ Cass since Boss took a likin’ to her. Gods know we all are tired of hearin’ your voice every night.”

Birdie scowled at Stone but said nothing else before sighing. “Your right Stone, just street habits die hard.”

Cass was shocked to see the apology and even more stunned when Birdie calmed down and turned to her.

“You must be havin’ some questions.” Birdie unnerved Cass, she alternated between nice and sneering, so she could not get a read on her. “Go ahead and ask.”

Cass weighed the dangers of responding or not responding, feeling anxious that she could not tell which was worse. But the expectant silence was also nerve wracking, so she squared her shoulders and asked.

“What is a laboratory?” She had heard Rat use the word, but she had no idea what it meant. Only that it had something to do with a magician, though she had only street rumours to tell her what a magician was to begin with. Some dregs said that magicians could turn invisible and kill with a glance, others said that they did not even exist and were just fairy tales.

“Ha!” Birdie laughed, “They don’t think of us dregs as people, you know? That bastard magician keeps us here like a rich folk would keep chickens or ducks. And uses us much the same.”

“He eats us?” Cass’s eyes widened and a tremor went through her body. Even dregs would avoid cannibalism if it could be helped.

“Not quite,” It was Stone who replied this time. “We are ingredients for his “experiments.” Whatever the fuck they are.”

“They will probably be comin’ soon,” Birdie said. “Best start praying you aren’t chosen. The Boss is gentle compared to those fucks.”

Cass shivered, the eyes of the crowd around her had turned from hunger to abject terror. What kind of mess had she landed in?