As they neared the dock the smell of dirt, faeces and animals greeted them. The dock itself was bustling with life and noise, albeit a rancid sort of life. The people there had not yet had the pleasure of death. Pacha watched silently as ships in front of her unloaded their cargo. Wolves came off a ship with men holding the chains tied around their necks. One of the wolves got out of control and a man stabbed a metal tube into the wolves fur. The animal howled out in pain and collapsed on the ground. The man kicked it, forced it to stand and walk forwards. Pacha watched as many more animals, humans and creatures of all kinds were forced off ships and were taken through the overcrowded dock, vanishing between buildings.

“Docking!” Someone yelled and their ship jolted to a halt as a man in ragged clothes ran over and tied the ship to the dock. Alvar strode towards Pacha and with one haul he lifted the metal bases, to which Pacha’s chains were tied and walked off the ship. Pacha had no choice but to follow him and as she did so she looked back desperately at Asil and Twulai.

“Twulai! Asil!” She screamed towards them but Twulai was so weak that he could only match her look of desperation. Asil was still unconscious. Pacha stumbled and fell as she left the ship. Quickly she scrambled to her feet to see Alvar glancing back at her before he yanked on her chains.

Alvar walked with a purpose through the crowds as people parted before him. Meanwhile, Pacha was heckled by men of many different statures. Some felt her legs and others reached for her breasts but each time Pacha would be pulled forwards, away from them. They passed an alleyway and Pacha looked in to see a woman only a few years older than her in a torn red dress. A man came up to her and pulled this woman’s hands away from her chest, and even from this distance, it was clear to see that she was missing her left ring finger. The man reached for some money and stuffed it in the women’s cleavage. Then Pacha lost sight of the alleyway. They passed two men and Pacha was able to make out their conversation.

“Orkan’s youngest son hasn’t been seen since last night. Word is that Isana Avery was the last person to be seen with him,” One man said.

“He won’t be coming back any-time soon then.” The other man replied. The men laughed as Pacha was diverted down a small street before it opened out to a courtyard. Here the noise was much louder. The courtyard was full of men, they were dressed in fine clothes and they looked Pacha up and down rather than grabbing for her. She disliked these more than the men in the streets. These men were not street urchins looking for a good time, but rather they were sizing her up and judging her usefulness, as you would with your property. Alvar led Pacha to a space in the large crowd. There stood before a fenced area on a small raised section of decking, with an auctioneer standing in the centre taking bids. Before Pacha stood people in chains. An aged man with a long beard and stood nearest Pacha, giving her a solemn look. Behind him, stood a crying child.

“Sold!” Cried the auctioneer and Pacha watched as the old man was pulled away. Alvar brought Pacha to the fenced area where someone noted down a few details, and Pacha was placed directly behind the small child in plain view of the crowd. Alvar dumped her chains onto the decking and Pacha watched as the boy was sold.

“381. Any bids?” The auctioneer called out and Pacha looked at the floor.

“50 reteps!” Came a voice from the side of the crowd. The voice sounded crooked and twisted as if something wasn’t right.

“100 reteps!” Called a voice that was sharp and clear.

“600 reteps!”

“1,500 reteps!”

“2,300 reteps!”

“4,000 reteps!”

“4,500 reteps!”

“6,900 reteps!” Voices began to call out continuously, like shots firing ruthlessly after one another. The voices began to merge and Pacha didn’t want to listen. She didn’t want to know how much these men thought she was worth.

“7,800 reteps!”

“10,000 reteps!” After that, the voices became muffled, some turning to whispers. The twisted voice spoke up once more,

“30,000 reteps!” The crowd went silent and Pacha held her breath. She felt eyes on her, looking her up and down. In her gut she wished to disappear, not wanting to know what fate awaited her.

“50,000 reteps!” A sharp, clear voice called out and the crowd went silent.

“For that, you can have her,” The twisted voice spoke, the words were broken as if the vocal cords themselves had been shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Sold!” At the bang of the auctioneer’s hammer, Pacha’s heart sank. Still, she looked at the floor as she felt a rough hand on her shoulder. She was pulled harshly away from where she stood and dragged through the crowds. She was hauled up onto a wagon, her metal chains came crashing down with a loud clatter as they landed on the wagon. After a moment she managed to sit up where she noticed the four other slaves in the wagon alongside her. She looked over at the auction and witnessed the man who had bought her, a figure walking back to the front of the auction waving his hand with ferocity. An elderly man was hauled away next and thrown into the wagon next to Pacha. She looked back a moment later and saw that the man had vanished from the crowd. The wagon jolted and started to move.