I blinked in the bright sunlight, finally getting a chance to look outside the cage. Three of the slavers were in the wagon, unlocking and unloading the other prisoners. The wagon was on a hard-packed dirt road within a thick forest, filled with all sorts of unfamiliar foliage. I gaped in shock at the trees, some of which had trunks dozens of feet wide and canopies hundreds of feet tall.
The slaver who had uncovered my cage shoved a grimy key in the lock, opening it just enough to reach his hand through. He grasped the chain tying me to the cage and jerked it hard, slamming my head into the bars.
I groaned, but my horns protected me from the worst of it. Even so, a painful tremor coursed along their length, reminding me of just how sensitive they were.
While I was still recovering, the man jerked me outside, barking something in an unknown language. I stumbled, legs weak from disuse, but managed to retain my footing. Good thing too, because he headed to the back of the wagon with no intention to see if I could keep up.
The wagon floor was rough and splintered, biting into my bare feet, but I ignored the pain and kept up, leaving bloody prints in the wood with every step. Most of the other cages were empty, their occupants already unloaded from the wagon.
The slaver jumped off the wagon, falling four or so feet to the ground with a grunt. I hesitated at the lip, but he yanked the chain, pulling me off. I yelped and hit the ground hard, lying there stunned for a moment, but he callously began walking again, dragging me behind.
A massive four-story warehouse hid amid the trees off the side of the road. It was constructed of stone and wood, with small vertical windows, barely wider than my new, small hand, lined up every ten feet. Two enormous doors yawned open at the ground level, revealing a massive room that must have taken up the entirety of the first floor. A large sigil was carved above the entrance, depicting a blooming rose set against a stylized sun.
Hundreds of cages were stacked atop each other, lined up as improvised partitions to create narrow passages throughout the room. Most of them were occupied by strange people with animal body parts, like wolf ears or horse legs. A few seemed exactly like humans, only they had slanted features and pointed ears, like the storied elves of Earth.
Thick, roiling dust enveloped us as we entered the warehouse. It was dark and hazy, a fetid mixture of dust, sweat, and feces, swirling in visible eddies. I gagged as it clogged my sensitive nostrils, my throat swelling shut. Even worse was the terrible, dry itch that overtook my horns, which I could do nothing to relieve.
The slaver didn't seem to notice the difference, navigating the maze of cages without pause. He dragged me down an aisle near the back wall, jerking me to a stop before an empty cage. The other slaves nearby looked at me with interest, but they almost universally scowled after getting a good look at my tail and horns. The sheer disgust in their expressions made my skin crawl, and tail curl between my feet.
A hot glob of spittle launched from the shadows of a large cage, splattering my cheek. I cried out, staggering a step, and turning to see a towering slave with the face and claws of a lion. He was as emaciated as the rest, but his growl oozed power. He glowered at me and spat again, but the spittle went wide, narrowly missing the slaver.
"Filthblood," the lion man snarled.
The word was unfamiliar, but I recognized the syllables and sounds. Finally, a language I could understand! I'd been starting to worry the gods had sent me here with literally no way to communicate with anyone.
My slaver kicked the lion man's cage, rattling it violently. The lion slunk back into the shadows. His slit, cat-like eyes glared at me, glowing faintly with reflected light. At least he didn't spit anymore.
Muttering under his breath, the slaver opened an empty cage some fifteen feet from the lion and stared at me expectantly. It was small and cramped, not even tall enough to stand up straight in. A dead rat lay between the bars, half-decomposed, half...eaten?
I looked up at the slaver, eyes shimmering with tears, my tail limp against the cold, unforgiving stone floor. His eyes narrowed, and he raised his fist. I ducked my head and scurried in, wincing as my tail caught on a sharp spur on one of the bars. His hand followed me in, chasing me to the far wall, where he grabbed at my throat. I braced myself, gulping a last, desperate breath, but his fingers went to the collar, not to choke me. There was a sharp metallic click, and the tether came free. His arm darted back, and he slammed the door, locking it.
Through the lines of cages, I could see a few more slaves brought into the warehouse. Once all were locked away, the slavers shut the warehouse doors, plunging the room into darkness. A few small windows near the ceiling leaked trickles of sunlight, but that only distracted my eyes, which immediately adjusted to the dark. Even so, the light of the sun was a comfort, and I soon began to miss the breeze that drafted through the tarp on the wagon.
After a moment of silence, the drone of hushed conversation filled the room. To my delight, I was able to understand about half the words, mostly coming from the animal-human hybrids. The topic of discussion was the new arrivals, although that soon petered off into regular complaints about the state of life here. Those who were the thinnest were the first to fall quiet, their eyelids dropping to cover their dull, empty eyes. Eventually, almost everyone retreated into themselves, and an oppressive silence smothered the warehouse.
The first thing I did was carefully pick the rat up by its tail and toss it aside. A flash came from the cage next to me, a hand that caught the rat mid-air. I squeaked in surprise, staring at my new neighbor. He was tall and scrawny, with big hands. And fox ears, with a ratty fox tail jutting between a rip in his trousers.
"Thanks, but you're crazy for getting rid of good meat," he said, stuffing the rat down his shirt. "I half-thought that thing would decompose before anyone replaced Tim. Lucky bastard, getting sold after only three months."
"You're welcome," I stammered. Taking a deep breath, I timidly asked, "Where are we?"
A morbid cackle echoed around the warehouse, coming from a slave some five rows away. The noise grated like nails against stone, causing my tail to bristle. Judging from the irritable flashes in the other's eyes, they felt the same. Fortunately, the laugh caught in the slave's throat, turning into a series of hacking coughs.
"Where are we?" a twisted voice asked once it had recovered. "What an absurd question, especially for a slave. Where we are going, on the other hand, is a much more pressing concern."
I ducked my head at the venomous words, but the voice kept speaking. It came from a few rows down, although I couldn't see which cage.
"From the sound of it, you're rather young, so you might get let off with an easy house job. But, you're also a girl, so… heh heh heh…"
I squeezed my eyes shut as he broke into laughter. As vile as he was, the slave confirmed my fears. Had this fate chased me even to another world? Surely, the church, or whoever was waiting to receive us, would find me. I was one of their heroes, right?
A bright light illuminated the room, shutting the voice up and drawing pained hisses from the other slaves. I squinted until my eyes adjusted, wonder driving any sense of despair away. The source was a large crystal fixed to the ceiling with chains, like a primitive chandelier. Harsh white light streamed from its rough facets as though by magic, with no sign of wiring or use of technology. Well, considering the world, it probably was magic.
I was so taken with my first magical experience that I nearly missed the shrieking creak as the door opened. It revealed a stairwell going to the upper levels, on which a woman descended. She swaggered, with unkempt hair and wearing a thin, indecent nightdress, which exposed most of her breasts and legs. I shivered as her gaze lashed around the warehouse, zeroing in on us newcomers. The drowsiness in her eyes disappeared, replaced by a cruel indifference.
The woman uttered a phrase several sentences long, in the same, unknown language the slaves used. She said something else, but this time, the words were much sharper and harsh-sounding. The same phrase, but in perhaps another language?
Three more times, all different, until, finally, I understood.
"From this moment on, you may consider yourself property of the Roseburn family. My name is Kaitlyn, though I never wish to hear your filthy lips utter such an angelic name. In fact, I don't want to hear you say anything. Ever. I don't care if you're hungry, cold, or dying. Let me know you exist and I'll ensure you won't for much longer."
She let that sink in, casting a wide look over the warehouse. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she caught a glimpse of the demonkin I passed on the way in, and again when she saw me.
She continued, "For the new ones out there, I'm sure you're upset about your present circumstances. I couldn't care less. Whine all you want, just not when I'm around. You'll be leaving here soon enough."
Without another word, she stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. A few seconds later, the light winked out, plunging the warehouse into darkness.