Menagerie. Fancy word. French. It sounds suspiciously close to ménage. Ménages I approve of. This Menagerie? Not quite sure.
The woman behind me slows down to keep her pace with the Collector. Lights slowly come to life near the ground, soft greens and blues illuminating tall glass containers. Aquariums, maybe. Some are empty. We pass one with some weird fish. Another with what I think is a plant, but then it moves, rising from the ground and creasing its surface like it's studying me back.
I'm afraid to ask. I do it anyway. "What's a Menagerie?" My voice trembles now. It trembles more with every step I take. I do my best to keep my chin up, my shoulders pulled back, but my voice is so hard to control right now. So hard to control when the lights come on and I can see exactly what this is.
Though some of the glass containers are filled with water, not all are aquariums. They're cages. Glass cages, big enough for large animals, big enough for... Me.
"A Menagerie, darling," he stops in front of a cage, bending on the waist to examine its inhabitants, "is a zoo. But not any zoo. It's a zoo that keeps the rarest, most special creatures on this planet. For safety, you see." He smiles at me, and the devious glint in his eyes is enough of a sign that I don't need to use my sixth sense. He's lying. It's not for anyone's safety, but his comfort. His amusement.
My body tenses. A Collector. He collects whatever rare creature passes his way, and, apparently, I'm this Shadow Mage thing, and he wants me. It's so simple it hurts.
If it wasn't for that bastard Chosen One. If he hadn't cheated, my seal would never have been broken, and I would never have been found out. My fingers curl into fists. If he came back to life, I wouldn't mind sending him to the Underworld again.
The Collector taps the glass. Something inside winces and squirms away. My spine steels, all fear washing away, only rage left behind. I bare my teeth. "Leave them in peace, at least. They're already in this awful place with no way out. Give them some peace of mind."
The Collector straightens to his full height — taller than me, of course, because once upon a time I thought I was a tall girl, but then suddenly, everyone around me is over six feet tall — and locks his eyes with mine. "It's not about leaving them in peace, darling. Some of these specimens are precious and might be extinct in the wild. I bet you never thought about it."
I scowl and follow him as he paces ahead. Once I reach the cage he bumped the glass like a brat, I turn to search for what's inside. Dull, dark eyes meet mine, full of horror, fear so apparent it seeps into my bones. A pity so aggravating, so deep settles inside me as I stop. Even when the woman behind me shoves me a step ahead, I turn to see the animal once more.
"Non on his prime, is he?" The Collector breathes to my ear, too close, too fast. "He’s been refusing to eat. It’ll take him a moment to get used to his new surroundings." He smiles and releases a soft chuckle, a sound that should be amusing and light if I wasn't staring at a dog, a puppy who's been through too much.
It’s not an adult yet, clearly, and I could carry it in my arms. The short black fur is dull, showing his ribs. Though he has the lithe body of a Doberman, his ears are droopy like a Labrador. Maybe a mixed-breed? He looks at me with pain, and I can only think of cradling it to my chest.
The poor thing. Why the hell does the Collector want caged dogs? He could have the puppy walking by his side, but no. He’s so cruel he has to keep him locked up. The woman shoves me harder and I can't help but move away. My eyes stay locked with the puppy’s and, deep inside my heart, I promise myself I'll find a way to escape this place, and I'll take this poor dog with me. He'll know some kind of love, even when I didn't.
Even if all I had was betrayal and the sight of disgust on the face of my mate.
I shake these thoughts away as I'm once more dragged down the hallway. The ceiling's so high I can barely see it, the dim blue light not illuminating enough. At first, I try to face the others inside those cages, but the more I look at them, the more I see the future I'll soon find myself in. The creatures who have eyes or some semblance of a face are hopeless. They don't even have the despair anymore. Empty shells, merely husks of their former, maybe glorious, selves.
We pass a mermaid, and the shock that the creatures are real is soon subdued by the depressive scene. She's asleep, or drugged, I don't know, half-lying with her shoulder pressed to the glass. The once-beautiful tail is colorless, like a fish who spent too long out of the water. There is water inside the cage, yes, but it isn't a foot deep, and her breaths are labored. The cage next to hers contains a merman. The top half makes it easy to distinguish them. I'd like to study the curious semi-transparent thingies coming out from under his ears, but the man flares out, punching the glass with both fists. He's strong, tall, and broad, but he doesn't dent the glass.
The Collector stops and looks at him with a mix of disdain and boredom. The merman points to the mermaid next to him. "Do you really think we can survive in these cages? What use are we for you if you don't care about our death? Dead merpeople sell cheap," the merman ends with a sneer.
I shoot a glance at the Collector. That's what he's going to do to me? I thought he just... Collected. I shake my head, confused. Would he sell me? Because if he would, then Kayn could just walk in and take me home, no fights needed. I wouldn't even have the chance to argue. Out there, I had Ren, and Apollo before he figured out what I was. In here? I'm by myself.
The Collector approaches the glass, tilting his lips up into a slashing smile. "Merpeople aren't that rare in my line of business." The Collector waves a hand down at the merman's tail. Once, it was probably a beautiful shade of dark blue and jade green, sparkling when the light danced in them. Now, it’s pale, flaky. Sad. "I like to collect you. But as fishes, once you're not pretty anymore..." He shrugs, and whirls around as if that's answer enough.
My jaw drops. I look at the merman, and I want to tell him I hate this man too, and this absurd situation, but the merman bares razor-sharp teeth at me and hisses, not like a cat, but maybe something more... stabby. A shiver of fear races down my spine and I pick up my pace. Apparently, he doesn't care for my heartfelt feelings.
The Collector laughs. "Merpeople hate earthens." He throws me a wink over his shoulder and I almost wince. "With everything we have going on up here, they like to put us all together in one word. Earthens." A laugh. “Even if that doesn’t apply to me.”
I lick my lips, looking over my shoulder. "Well, I'm pretty sure they don't call themselves merman and mermaid too." The silence that follows my word is a sign that the Collector lost his interest in me, which sounds great, and I narrow my eyes to study a moving shade against a cage that seemed empty.
With a jerk, I snap my head to the other side. The cage is empty. The moving shade was someone being reflected in the glass. I look over my shoulder but see no one following us. My heart pounds inside my chest for too long, and I miss every chance of not going down without a fight.
I slightly stumble on something as I'm gaping over my shoulder in fear, then I stop. My gaze goes to my feet, and the ground has changed. It's like the bottom of an animal cage, poked full of holes so the pee will pass through. I frown, then realization hits me with a punch and I whirl around just in time to see the cage closing in on my face.
Fucking idiot. I lost my one moment to make it clear I wasn't going to be imprisoned without a struggle!
I would raise my fists and pound on the incredibly thick glass, but they’re still bound behind my back. "What do you think you're doing?" I ask, rhetorically because the answer is obvious.
The Collector taps his chin, turning to his goon. "I wanted to keep her around for a while, you know? Just to see what it is like. But I'm already getting requests for an auction, can you believe that?"
The wordauctionraces through me, leaving the brain-dead sensation of a slurpee. Auction. They are going to sell me off. My knees buckle but I manage to keep standing. I manage to keep a mad look on my face, my teeth bared like I’m about to bite someone's arm off. I want them to fear me. I want them to think I'm more powerful than I am. Maybe then they won't toy with me too much.
The New Council has started to sound like the least of my worries now.
"Then we should get upstairs and start on the invitations," the woman replies, her voice emotionless like a robot. Maybe she is a robot. Would explain how she found my weak spot so easily.