Chapter 18 · Rust and Relic - Chapter 18: Crow Price

"Step up, step up." The auctioneer's voice cut through the smoke like a blade. "Fresh meat from the north pass. Still breathing, mostly intact."

I was on my knees in the center of a dirt ring. Hands bound behind my back. Blood crusted on my temple where someone had clocked me during the descent. The ropes burned.

Around me, maybe thirty people sat on benches carved into the rock. Most wore leather and furs. A few had bronze. All of them looked at me the way you'd look at a horse with a limp.

"What do we start at?" someone called from the back.

"Three silver marks," the auctioneer said. He was a short man with a scar bisecting his mouth. "Or equivalent trade. Grain, salt, worked iron. No credit."

"What's he worth?" A woman in the front row leaned forward. Her teeth were filed to points. "He looks half-dead already."

"He walked here," Scarmouth said. "That's more than the last batch managed."

I tested the ropes. They didn't give. My wrists were already numb.

The shard pulsed against my ribs, hot enough to leave a mark.