The ship ride was an eternity packed into two days. We spent most of it attempting to sleep and drown out the movement, the noise, and the smell as best we could.
In eternity, it was the small things that mattered. The sun shone brightly on both days, the literal and metaphorical bright spot of our days. I was lucky enough only to have to empty the pot once, and the pot stayed steady in our below-deck cell.
Rude stayed true to his name, making cruel comments and refusing to help the rest of us. While I didn’t entirely disagree with him, the way he approached it was frustrating, at best. Discontentment festered, but mentions of the chimera process gave the rest a spark of hope; guilt crept into my chest. I knew I would crush their hopes and dreams with my own two hands. I avoided the chimera conversations like the plague, pretending to sleep each time it was brought up. If the others noticed my reluctance, they didn’t talk about it.
Late on the second evening, there was a change in the ship’s movement. Manius claimed he’d spent his life on the sea and knew the patterns of the crew and the sea enough to know we were nearing the shore. Rude argued that Manius couldn’t possibly know that, but Manius was proven correct when we lurched to a stop.
However, it wasn’t until a few hours later that we were herded off the ship and into the fresh evening air. Two new chimeras met us at the dock, both dragon-based. Though they didn’t look related, both had blue scales, which contrasted nicely against their dark brown, or tanned, skin and their dark hair. They had cat-like sky-blue eyes that were all the bluer against their skin and carried spears on their backs.
They crammed us into a petite horse-driven cart, and we were off, our path lit by moonlight.
“How do they know where we’re going?” Titus asked quietly, “Are we sure they can see?”
“Yes, and we can hear too.” One of the chimeras replied. “Now shut up.”
Our other attempts at conversation ended similarly, the chimeras urging us to keep quiet each time we so much as whispered. We quickly abandoned conversation altogether, and I took deep breaths, trying to get the most out of the fresh air.
Unlike the larger cities I’d seen on Stoicheion, no wall surrounded the city. Watchposts and lighthouses were scattered around the small island's beaches, which appeared to be about three times larger than the city proper. The castle Mare sat on a cliff, towering over the city.
As we rumbled through the forest, a single double-gated wall appeared, blocking entry to the castle from the forest. The horses pulled us through a gate without issue and climbed the winding path up the hill to the castle proper.
A cloaked figure motioned the cart around the castle and to a back entrance. They hurried us off the cars, one of the chimeras lifting and carrying Aurora like a sack of potatoes. She shifted, uncomfortable, without protest as his hands wandered. I caught a glimpse of her pale and resigned face in the moonlight and dug my nails sharply into my palms, refocusing myself. Octavia caught the motion, and her black hair twirled as she shook her head, motioning for me to turn away.
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Helpless, I did. Blood trickled down my palm.
Our ‘rooms’ for our stay were two cells, divided only by bars, that they locked behind us, sauntering away merrily. They didn’t need to have bothered. For the others, this procedure was their last hope. They wouldn’t leave.
Each cell came with its own pot and a few rolled-up mats in the corner, a facade of hospitality. There weren’t enough for all of us, and the cells stunk of disease and rotting flesh.
In the neighboring cell, Octavia gently shifted Aurora, who’d been thrown unceremoniously into the cell, into a more comfortable position. In a fake-soft voice that was meant to be heard down the hall, she angrily said, “Once you’re a chimera, you can rip their heads off yourself.”
I turned away, feeling like I was intruding on something I shouldn’t. It didn’t stop me from hearing Aurora’s response, a broken and soulless chuckle.
We divvied out the mats in the fairest manner we could, working from oldest to youngest. Or we attempted to, anyway. Rude, who no one believed was older than me, threw a hissy fit over the arrangement, demanding a mat. Unable to listen to his unbearable superiority complex any longer, I surrendered my mat. The ungrateful man took it with that same irritating air of superiority, and I was tempted to steal it back. But, the resulting argument wasn’t worth the time or the energy. Once spread, Rude and Manius’ mats took up nearly half the cell anyway, though that was more of a testament to the size of the cell than the size of the mats. Laying down, we probably had less than half a foot between our bodies.
Some chimeras handed us lunch and dinner that evening. It was slightly better than the food we’d had on the ship, though not by much.
In what was probably either the best or worst luck of the whole trip, depending on one’s point of view, a dragon-chimera and a phoenix-chimera came to our cells–sorry, ‘guest rooms’--after supper, prowling menacingly down the hallway.
“Listen up!” The dragon-chimera ordered. “We’re going to analyze each of you, one by one, to pick out the best of the best candidates.” His eyes narrowed threateningly. “If any of you so much as thinks about attacking us,” he lifted a clawed hand, “you’ll receive two-fold repayment swiftly.”.
The cell doors unlocked with a click and opened with a clang, startling the unaware. They ordered us to stand against the wall, encouraging us to move faster as we rose off our stiff muscles and clambered over each other to line up and spread out along the wall. Even though only four of us were in this cell, we stood nearly shoulder to shoulder.
While the dragon-chimera hovered by the door, ready to act on his threat, the phoenix-chimera entered and began inspecting us in a manner not dissimilar to what Nero and Drusus had done a few nights ago. Manius and Titus were passed over with no outward reaction by the chimera. When he reached me, he stopped shortly, his eyes widening. He reached his hand out to grab my face, tilting it this way and that. Unlike the comforting warmth of Aquila’s touch, his burned. There was no doubt in my mind that he left a handprint, though there was no reflective surface for me to check with.
“Master will be very interested in you,” he said, dropping his hand.
Partly pleased, partly disturbed, and more than a little unsettled, I stood there meekly. Their evaluation finished quickly after that, finishing the women’s cell in less time than the phoenix chimera had spent on me alone. The others were a little unsettled by this behavior, too, some shooting me dark looks and others peeking curiously. I ignored them, focusing instead on my own problems. They left after their evaluation without telling us when they’d be back.
Darkness fell, bringing sleep with it.
By morning, the cell pots smelled rancid, though we’d shoved them in the furthest corners possible. Our cell stank in particular, having been shared by three men and not cleaned out in nearly a day. Nothing seemed to help the smell.
At breakfast, we picked at the lackluster stale bread, the chimeras returning shortly thereafter.
The cell door swung open. The phoenix chimera pointed at Rude and me, saying, “You two, with us,” and motioning us out of the cell. We obliged, Rude knocking into my shoulder with a glare as we stepped through the cell doors. They herded us up the stairs, behind a few doors, and down tiny stone hallways which could fit hardly more than a person and a half. Occasionally, we’d pass the back of a fireplace or pass a servant.
Soon, we arrived at an unknown door, and the phoenix chimera ahead of us reached forward to push it open. It swung open quietly and easily, revealing the office I’d seen in my dreams. We emptied out from a hidden door at the right of the bed the mage had been working at, across from the desk and the bookshelf. Sitting at his desk, the mage looked up before motioning us closer. He gave a strained, friendly smile. I didn’t trust it.
“Come in, come in.”