Chapter Eight

Riley had never felt more humiliated.

"I'm telling you, Kanver, that's a beast with low magical affinity if I've ever seen one, twenty-six copper, and not a bit more," A swarthy shopkeeper eyed her and a few other magical animals, greedily rubbing his hands together.

So far today, she'd been fished out of a pleasant forest, stunned with some kind of magical net, caged, and now this… Of all the places she expected to end up, the magical pet shop wasn't even on the list.

They didn't even have magic in the world that half of her had come from… At least… she didn't remember if there was.

The point still stood. This sucked, and she could still find no way out.

"Seven silvers for the lot?" Kanver asked, his tone affecting and pleading. He was the fishing asshat that had dragged her out of that pleasant astral space, ending her conversation with Grimm.

Hours later, her stomach grumbled, her throat was parched, and she was in no way closer to finding a way out.

The rat bastard had even gone so far as to padlock her cage. Not that it would have made much difference otherwise.

"Can you hear me?" Mental projection worked with her boxes, and it wasn't like she had a body built to project sound, so she decided to go for broke with telepathy.

It wouldn't have been the strangest thing to happen that day by a mile, if it worked.

The presumably magical bird, somewhere between a parrot and a duck, with bright and colorful feathers, a ducks beak and feet, but a parrot's head, and a cockatoo's plume, cocked its head at her before its feathered crest rose. It began making a terrible screeching, quaking racket, bouncing up and down, flailing its wings.

"If that's a yes, they aren't sapient," she sighed and looked towards Kanver and Matros, the pet shop owner, running a quick mental calculation.

If they knew she could think on their level, it might affect her chances of escape. There were benefits to being thought of as a dumb animal, magical or not; if she blew that ruse, then she'd lose a particular avenue for egress.

Deciding to keep her sapience a secret from her jailers, she worked her way back into the cage and waited for this little drama to finish.

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"Aye, that's fair. Have your boy unload," Matros said, holding out his hand. Kanver reached out and grabbed up near his elbow, as the shopkeep did the same, before pulling a money pouch off his belt, emptying the contents in his hand, and counting out 7 shiny silver coins.

"You lad, see to your duties, I want all of these critters unloaded in ten minutes, or you'll feel the whip just assuredly as these cockatrice. In emphasis, he clapped his hands as the boy scurried up from his place standing behind the coach and began seeing to his duties, knowing his job.

"So that guy's a prick," Riley said to herself, as one by one and sometimes two by two, the boy unloaded the cages, moving them into the back of a shop.

Riley caught the scents of fear and terror, along with every other thing, the mixed bouquet setting her on edge, especially as the aroma of blood drifted to her sensitive nose.

"I've got to get out of here," her heart was racing with fear. Matros stuck his head through the door just as the kid set her cage down.

"You lad, there's a copper in it for you if you give them water," he shouted, causing the boy's face to light up.

"Right away, sir!" Dutifully, he went to a large trough and began working a hand pump; water, clean and cold, flowed out of it, filling the wooden basin as a maddening itch of thirst blossomed to full and desperate need within Riley's mind.

Nothing had ever smelled that good as he, in agonizingly slow motion to her mind, filled a stack of bowls piled up next to the trough. Tapping his magical bangle, he brought the bowls two at a time, reaching his hand through the metal of the cage, depositing them quickly, and finally coming to Riley last.

Losing all control, she leaped for the bowl, lapping it down greedily until she dunked her muzzle, sucking water up her nose, inspiring a snorting fit.

Pawing desperately at her nose, the inner cavity burned as she felt some of the liquid slide down her throat.

The kid watched her curiously, snatched the bowl away while she was distracted, and refilled it, only to bring it back around.

"There ya go, little beastie," he said, and at that moment, she felt grateful for that small bit of kindness.

"Thank you," She said to herself, and, acting with greater calm, lapped slowly, the action coming as naturally as breathing to her.

Cool spread through her midsection, forming out the edges of a gnawing, empty cavity within.

"Hungry... It's like I'm remembering to feel by degrees," she hoped food would come soon. At first, her mind snapped to pizza before switching to lush grasses and shoots, her mouth watering with competing memories.

"Hungry," she whined, sprawling out in her cage, trying to ignore the metal pressing through the toes of her paws. She found some relief when she finally flopped against the side and stretched out.

Having finished his duty, the kid left, only for Kanver's voice to drift back to her ears.

"I'll be keeping your copper because yer' late," as if to taunt him, the older man appeared in the doorway, flipping the coin.

A wave of burning anger swept through her and, with it, a power like a flame of will, hot and fiery, rising in her chest, running down her paws. Startled, it broke her rage, and as quickly as the power came, it left.

Distantly, she heard the sound of the carriage beginning to pull away. The kid went by the door and out of her life as quickly as he had come into it.

"Boy.. Boy!" Matros called out conspiratorially, doing his best to keep his voice low; he stopped in the center of the door, holding something in his palm.

"Thanks for looking after them. Don't let that skinflint get ya down," he whispered before passing a copper off to him.

"Huh," she grumbled before trying to get comfortable, waiting for her chance.