Yours Truly 2016 / Cascadia College / Bothell, WA | Page 65

The Auction
Sage Moore
A brittle man descends the steps first,
revealing long front teeth in his grin. The
second man must duck to let his graceful
white horns through the door. His blacknailed hands are curled around a pair of
iron manacles, hauling a pale, skinny boy
behind him.
Greyson’s eyes are open on the ceiling
as he is dragged down the steps. Each one
hits a different protruding bone. Rib. Hip.
Tailbone. He barely notices, numb with
cold and iron.
The staircase curves and gives way
to a market lit with old oil lamps. Long,
flickering shadows of merchants and
customers cover the crumbling brick wall
as they shift back and forth, inspecting
merchandise. It is all the same—iridescent
rocks and vials of glowing white liquid. The
shimmer follows the inhabitants through
the room, catches on the edges of cheeks,
the satin of dresses or the spike-studded
lapels peeking from beneath dark coats.
There is one merchant who has
something other than white. A gas mask
covers his face as he runs vials of viscous
red liquid through a smoking clockwork

machine and produces a sparkly gas into
balloons. The only child in the space begs
his mother to buy one, as if the blood gas
is a carnival toy. Trembles take Greyson’s
limbs. The horned man throws him to the
center of the crowd. Voices squeal and
feet shuffle back, forming a circle around
his crumpled form.
The man with the sharp teeth raises his
arms to the shadows on the walls. “Ladies
and gentleman of Paris! It’s time for a party.
We start the bidding at one thousand
gold,” he says, motioning to Greyson on
the ground.
Gasps travel through the circle as they
take in the offering and skitter back further.
“Are you mad?” screams a greenskinned woman in a striped dress. “We’ll
be raided!”
“I beg to differ, my lady,” the horned man
says, ripping through Greyson’s cravat to
expose his bare neck. “Unchained.”

The bidding begins.

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