Page 74 of Outfoxed

“Right. It’s a mystery who found a gun, got the bullets, and wanted you gone bad enough to stage an ambush and shoot you several times. Heartless bastard, too, leaving you to bleed to death in an alley like that.”

I remembered not to shrug. While my ribs and side had healed, it still hurt to move and would for a while. “There’s not much that can be done about it right now, and I have bigger things to worry about.”

Dr. Dorothy checked her watch. “Yes, you do. It’s showtime.”

Friday, May 22, 2043.

Albany, New York.

The East.

Dr. Dorothy allowed me to walk to my fate, something I considered to be a vast improvement, as she’d barred me from walking more than twenty feet for the past week while I recovered and dealt with my infections. To my amusement, we went a few doors down to a large chamber reminiscent of a school’s tiered assembly room or a concert hall. The entrance put us in a walkway beneath the second tier, circling a central platform. While it could seat hundreds, a crowd of no more than thirty people sat in the ground-level tier facing where a sole armchair waited.

“You’ll get a front row seat to your auction at least. The auctioneer will come out in five minutes to give them a chance to look you over. If you act completely uninterested in them, it’ll drive them wild.”

“But does driving them wild raise my auction price?”

“With this lot? Very probably. Good luck, Jade.” Dr. Dorothy turned and left, something I found to be amusing, as there wasn’t anyone nearby to stop me from following her. The guards stationed in the auction house’s maze of hallways would catch me eventually, but I could bolt out of the auditorium before someone caught me.

There would be time enough for defiance later, once I got a better feel for my situation, learned who was crazy enough to pay so much for me, and whether or not I might turn them into allies. I could only hope the family wasn’t associated with those behind the slow and inevitable destruction of the city I’d learned to call home despite its many dangers.

I already missed the wildness of the Alley and its residents, who flirted with death daily.

I carried Peace to the steps leading up to the central platform, eased onto the armchair, and did as Dr. Dorothy suggested, feigning boredom and a general disinterest, careful to keep my ears relaxed and avoid staring at any of the figures, who wore black clothing and hooded, dark cloaks, which hid their faces along with the help of gauzy scarves pulled over their noses and mouths.

I took that to mean the auction house didn’t want any of their guests to be able to readily identify each other. Interesting.

Judging from the presence of breasts the cloaks couldn’t hide, most of the bidders were women, supporting Dr. Dorothy’s claim the matrons of wealthy households wanted somebody to either tame or reform their wayward sons, who would one day be in charge. Less than impressed with the circumstances leading to being shot and taken to the East, I maintained the disinterested expression I used in the bar when I feared the rowdier men would interpret any change in my expression as interest.

The five minutes may as well have taken an eternity. An older man, with the first hints of silver touching his temples, strode in through the door I’d used, joined me on the platform, and stared down his nose at the gathered bidders, a feat considering we were below them. Judging from his suit, the man could afford to be one of the few seated in the eerily quiet auditorium.

The standoff lasted another few minutes, which I observed with one ear back and the other pricked forward, intrigued by the silent dance between auctioneer and bidders. Who won the odd battle? What were the rules? Beyond playing at being statues, what was the purpose in sitting and staring at each other?

I appreciated that the bidders paid the auctioneer a lot more attention than they paid me.

I pondered why I also played the statue game, decided I didn’t care, covered my mouth and yawned. Being polite mattered to a certain degree.

Their money would become justice for the Alley, and I wanted them to bid big or go home.

It would take time, effort, and cunning, but I would make the most of my situation. Dr. Dorothy’s very existence proved freedom could be obtained. It would be harder for me, but the possibility existed.

Difficult challenges hadn’t stopped me before, and they wouldn’t stop me now.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the auctioneer greeted. I could only assume the start of an auction involved some ritual, as everyone else in the auditorium straightened in their seats and nodded once to the man, the fabric of their robes rustling from their movement.

The auctioneer used the silence to build anticipation, and the bidders lost to his prowess on the stage until the moment he gestured to me. I almost turned both ears back, but rather than show my disdain, I forced them both forward and lied with my body, relaxing when I wanted to tense, reveal Peace’s pristine blade, and warn those watching I would not become easy prey for them or their wayward eldest sons.

No son of mine would be so helpless he needed his damned mother to help him find a wife, that much I would see to. And if he even thought about buying a wife on the market, I’d give him something to cry about.

Change would begin with me.

I wouldn’t be content to remain a fox. If needed, I’d become a dragon, a strong and fierce one ready to breathe fire.

Straightening my back hurt enough I amended my plans: I’d become a strong and fierce dragon sometime after my ribs healed. I forced myself to lean back in the chair, offering the illusion I’d straightened so I could make myself more comfortable.

“Jade Tamrin is twenty-six years old, a mixed Caucasian with natural auburn hair and brown eyes. She was born a hybrid, and there are no other known hybrids in her line of any species. She is a red fox, and she does not change species crossing through the boundaries. She, even when injured, recovers within a few hours with minimal problems, mostly nausea. It is uncertain if the nausea was due to her injuries or not, which puts her in the top percentile for boundary crossing. Both her maternal and paternal lineage includes mages and witches, and she is a gene carrier for all primary magic types. Her grandfather on her paternal side is an elementalist of notable strength, and her grandfather on her maternal side is both mage and agriculturalist.”

The auctioneer paused to give the bidders a chance to digest my heritage. I wondered if he’d ask me to show off my teeth or stand up and turn in a circle for their amusement.