Davilo and Lala both entered the auction halls with their disguises. Davilo was no longer in his red duds, but in fact in a white seersucker suit with a large brimmed hat, sunglasses, and he’d conjured his pitchfork into a cane.

  Lala had become her favorite form as well. A shining beautiful face minus the scar on her cheek that followed her with every shape she changed into. She wore a red dress and walked into the auction hall on Davilo’s arm.

  Davilo flashed his two tickets as they walked in. The auction hall had a lively air. It was a longhouse for some number of years when the town was still first built by vikings and explorers. The longhouse remained intact and well treated as the ages advanced and kingdoms reshuffled. Now, it was a small town in a small province of the Ulmund Kingdom. The need for a longhouse had gone away but the need for an auction house was never more apparent. Everyone had dressed in their best attire. Merchants, traders, and bigwigs from around Milik and the nearby cosmopolis of Mandelcub. Davilo kept his brimmed hat tipped in case everyone recognized him, and with his anonymity, began looking for the Ducervi.

  Unfortunately, the band had called in sick. Apparently they all felt a strange stomach flu when they heard a particular brown note strummed from a lute a block away. It caused them such ailment that they canceled at the last minute. The auctioneer cursed himself, wondering where he was going to find entertainment. That was when a gift from the heavens fell into his lap. A man that donned a headscarf and could play better than anyone he’d ever heard played near the auction house. It was serendipity. He paid Tamas a smaller fee than he’d pay the band and asked him to play immediately. Tamas accepted.

  Davilo nodded to Tamas as the satyr played his lute and sang. Lala detached from Davilo’s arm to get a drink at the bar. She turned around, resting her elbows at the bar and scanning the room as Davilo chatted it up with what looked like two warlords.

  “You are as beautiful as ever,” Lala turned to see an old sod

  Lala smiled, more comfortable being noticed in this form, “Thank you, but I’m with my husband.”

  The man’s face housed a look of confusion, “I know you, don’t I?”

  Lala’s smile wilted, “I’m certain you don’t. We’ve never met before tonight.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” He said.

  “Lala,” Lala said, “And what’s yours?”

  “Lala,” The older man said it as if he was playing with a piece of gristle in his mouth. Determining if the taste and texture was right, “Odd name, is it not?”

  “Uhm,” Lala said, “I can try a different name if you’d like! Some of my friends shorten it to La.”

  The older man studied Lala, his gaze coming to the indelible scar on her cheek.

  “My, how’d you get something so heinous? Hopefully the person that did that’s still in stockings.”

  Lala let out a polite laugh and used her hair to cover up her scar, she looked down, “I really must be getting back to my husband. It was wonderful meeting you.”

  Lala turned and stepped forward. She walked back to Davilo but as she did the man’s words cut through to her.

  “Marisola!”

  Lala stopped dead in her tracks and turned.

  “Marisola?” He asked again.

  Lala took a few panicked short breaths before propping up a smile and saying, “I’m sorry! Not familiar. You’ve got the wrong girl.” And she walked off to meet Davilo.

  Lala approached him and sat on the seat next to him, she could feel from the dry air that Davilo was fuming. His knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping his cane as he sat.

  “What’s wrong?” Lala asked.

  Davilo pointed with his cane, trying not to send too much eye contact his way. Lala followed where his cane was pointing. They were exactly as described. Tucked in the corner of the auction house were four people, boisterous and clanking glasses. Well, one of them anyway. The blond man, ‘Casios’ was hooting and hollering while the Orc tried to calm him down. The dwarf scanned the area for threats, and the elf was asleep, presumably taking a power nap from an abundance of wine. An idea procured by the sea of empty bottles around them.

  “Let’s just try to calm down,” Lala said to Davilo, “We need to find the back of the auction house and steal Sal back. This isn’t the time to be making ourselves known.”

  Davilo shook his head, “Fine. But I best not cross paths with those ruffians. For their sake and mine.”

  “Let’s just try to avoid them. Confrontation isn’t necessary,” Lala said, “I wonder how Stormbristle is doing in that tiny cage?”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Stormbristle was doing very poorly. The cage they could secure was meant for a mid sized dog and Stormbristle could only barely fit because of his spent with Davilo. Since he had been away, some of the moisture in the air plumped him up, making the cage even more uncomfortable. He could not move and thus could not get a good look at his surroundings. He could hear the calls of some animals, as well as some artifacts, weapons, cahrms, and and do-dads.

  “Sal!’ He hissed, hoping to get his attention, “Sal! Tell me you’re here!”

  Stormbristle waited for somebody to reply. He sighed and hissed again, “Sal!!”

  “He ain’t here.” A voice came from behind him.

  “Who is that?” Storm asked, “Speak now! I can not turn.”

  “They keep all the enchanteds and demis locked up in a different part of the auctioneer house. More like jail cells then cages.”

  Stormbristle clammed up instantly. Had he caught the attention of the auctioneer? Or some guard? Had he given up that he was an enchanted too early?

  “What are you doing here?” The pitchy voice asked.

  Stormbristle kept his mouth shut.

  “I asked, what are you doing here, piggy. You’re a storm boar, ain’t ya?” The voice cawed out.

  Stormbristle had one last defense left. He closed his eyes and started to snore.

  “Are you pretending to fall asleep? What, cause I know your jig?”

  Stormbristle snored again, keeping his eyes closed. He heard the clatter of movement and sealed himself more, then when he thought it was safe, Stormbristle opened one eye. Staring right back at him, hanging upside down from the top of the cage was a pink monkey with little horns on his head.

  “Helloo!” The monkey cried out.

  Davilo grabbed his cane and stood up with ceremony. Lala looked up at him but grabbed his arm to pull him down, “Please, Lord Davilo. We can’t cause a scene. It will ruin the plan.”

  Davilo let out the low grumblings of a man just barely complying. But he sat back down.

  “We can’t catch their attention,” Said Lala as she turned to look. Raka was staring right back at her. Lala quickly turned away and stared back. Her gaze went to Tamas who tuning his lute for another song. .

  “We avoid them,” Lala said in a hushed tone, “Best thing to do is to just avoid them.”

  “Excuse me,” The rough and tumble voice of one green orquette entered the frame of both Davilo and Lala’s vision. Lala looked up and standing in front of her was Raka.

  “I’m a Ducervi mercenary and I was taken by your beauty. Would you and your… father like to join us for drinks?”

  Lala’s cheeks reddened, She looked over and saw Casios and the dwarf waving at her. “Oh, we couldn’t…”

  “No, we couldn’t,” Said Davilo.

  “We shouldn’t,” Lala continued.

  “We really shouldn’t.”

  And at the same time they said,

  “So I must decline,” “But we shall.”

  Lala looked up at Davilo in shock. The devil was staring straight past Raka, to the blonde man that Kip had informed him had taken his salamander. Davilo got up, and walked to their table. Raka looked expectantly at Lala, Davilo turned back too.

  “Lala, Dear, mustn’t keep your old father waiting. Your new friends have invited us to join.”

  Lala shook her head silently at Davilo who stared daggers back at her. Their silent conversation was interrupted by Raka saying, “We have wine!”

  “Wine!” Davilo said, “Did you hear that, Lala? Wine’s her favorite, she’s a drunk! Come now.”

  And Davilo walked toward the remainder of the group. Raka offered her hand. Lala demurley received Raka’s hand and off they went, to mingle with the enemy.

  “So,” The monkey said, “You’s hoping to find your friend, is it? They don’t deal with talkers up here. No no. Theys good business folk. They sell the talkers privately.”

  “So you pretended you weren’t enchanted?” Stormbristle asked.

  “What’s that they say? One in ten thousand?” The monkey asked, “We lucky few, huh? And it makes us even more valuable. And for what? For the dirtiest humanses to keep us as pets? No. I won’t give them the dignity. They paying for a pink horned monkey. Not a talking one. Then, when I get sent to their cages, I breaks out, eh? Easy as.”

  “Easy as,” Stormbristle said, “And it seems you’ve already broken out,” The pink horned monkey was free as a bird, “Why don’t you just leave now?”

  “Cuz then we don’t get the money, brainless.” The monkey said, “Me and the doofus have been taking humans for all they worth for too long. Bout to retire he is. Mes? I ain’t so spry myself. You stay on the job too long you’ll get caught for real. If a person who bought a pink horned monkey found out he paid for a pink horned monkey and got a talking one? Thats what humanses call a ‘come up.’ You ain’t wanna be nobody’s come up.”

  “Sir,” Stormbristle said, “You could take your wealth and join the Dark Lord’s empire. He’s building a haven for enchanteds. We’re treated better there than anywhere else. With decency and civility. If you help me and my friend get out, then we can give you a home.”

  The pink horned monkey cocked his head, “It ain’t the decents that pay me, brainless,”

  Stormbristle shook his head, “May I ask for your name?”

  “Keesee. Like… monkey see. Hey, you want to be with your friend, don’t you?”

  “May you let me out of this cage, Keesee?” Stormbristle asked.

  “Sure could. Easy as. This thing’s a sitch for opposable thumbs.”

  “Well… may you?” Stormbrisle asked

  “May I?” The monkey repeated, “You talk like some kinda human, boar. You talk like a kinda human I don’t like. May I’s and pleases and all that right before they try and eat ya.”

  “I-I’m sorry I just…”

  “Look boar, you think just because I talk and you talk means we got something in common?”

  “I figured it would be the decent thing to do.”

  “How’s decent going for ya?”

  “What the hell are you doing out of your cage?!” Stormbristle and the monkey turned to the north of the room where the auctioneer was staring daggers at both of them. Stormbristle froze. The auctioneer walked right up to the monkey

  “You shouldn’t be outside of your cage this close to the showtime.”

  The pink horned monkey looked at Stormbristle, “We got ourselves a talker here.”

  The auctioneer looked at Stormbristle, “You’re sure?”

  “Sure as. He was giving me a few pointers on how to talk better even. Me thinks you should remove him from the pool. Send him down with the other talkers.”

  The auctioneer sighed, “I’ll tell the boys right away. But the auction’s about to start so please make it back to your cage!”

  Keesee did a mocking salute and headed out as the auctioneer grabbed Stormbristle’s cage. Storm whinnied and squealed to try to keep up appearances as the auctioneer dragged him down below with the other enchanted creatures, but he broke.

  “Why?! Why, Keesee!?”

  “Sorry, boar. It’s like I told ya. You’s a come up. You ain’t wanna be nobody’s come up.”

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