Selling your first-born elf child to buy their mother as a ? Priceless.

"SOLD!" the gavel boomed.

"Holy shit!" screamed Kat.

"Wyatt! You monster!" screeched Kayla, gripping the edges of her chair with white knuckles, a look of horror on her face.

Wyatt blinked, and smiled triumphantly.

"Damn, that might be the most interesting thing I've seen bid at one of these things," said Damien, "good for you buddy," he slapped Wyatt on the back, "go get your prize!"

Wyatt stumbled forward, but turned to look at Kayla. "Look, I'll explain later okay? Trust me, I have a plan."

As he moved to the front quite a few people stood up to follow Damien's example, slapping him on the back or shoulders; even more voices congratulated him, real warmth in them. He wondered whether he should enjoy the congrats, or if he should be disgusted since the people were basically congratulating him for winning a ****. All he could feel was relief, well okay, relief and a little anxiety. But he'd done it! Like he'd told Kayla, he had a plan. This Lexi girl would be free soon enough.

A perfectly dressed butler and maid out of some sex-dream of the gilded age appeared, their outfits tailored to show off their assets — literally, both seemed to have buns of steel. The maid was carrying a small case, like some fancy wooden box for chef's knives. The butler had a fold-out side table. He set up the table and the maid placed the box on top. The auctioneer walked over to them, and as Wyatt approached he smiled wide.

"Congratulations m'boy! This is Aaron," the butler bowed, "and Erin," the maid curtsied, "and they will be performing the union ritual tonight. But first," the auctioneer raised his voice, "ladies and gentleman! There will be a short break for the union ritual, and then the auction will continue. As an unusual payment has been accepted, the winner—" he leaned in and gestured to Wyatt.

"Uh, Wyatt. Wyatt Gainer."

"—Wyatt Gainer will be brought into the back rooms as collateral until it is time to process his payment. If you are curious to speak to this creative newcomer, you can request to visit him."

"Just a formality kid," whispered Aaron, "don't worry your head. The House just wants to make sure you aren't up to anything, like thinking of running away with the merchandise."

"Haha, yeah, of course," said Wyatt, an octave more loudly than he meant to. His voice cracked. Well his plan wasn't to run, so it shouldn't matter.

Erin slapped the princess on the rump, and the elf squeaked and staggered forward up to the table. Now that she was right in front of him, Wyatt couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was. Like a fine sculpture soft and smooth, yet with perfect sharp definition at the same time. She seemed so real. His eyes wandered over her body for a second, then shot back up to her face. She was in some kind of light bathrobe, holding it close around her actually, but now that he was next to her and could see every gap, it was obvious she was wearing a string bikini, or similar lingerie, underneath — and nothing else.

"Now please, a round of applause for the new master!" shouted the auctioneer with a flourish.

The crowd clapped enthusiastically, and a few whistles and cheers echoed through the room.

"Now the fun part," said Erin quietly, suddenly between Wyatt and the table. She grabbed his wrist and tugged him into position across from the princess Lexi.

Aaron walked over into the only free space remaining, across from Erin at the table. Erin and Aaron across from each other reached for the box, and opened it together.

"Fuck."

Wyatt blinked. He hadn't meant to say that, but. . . fuck.

Inside the box were two thin knives. Each had a groove in the blade, the sort that could hold poison. . . or blood. Erin and Aaron each took a knife with identical timing, and then Erin grabbed Wyatt's hand, and Aaron grabbed Lexi's.

"Agri#%*@," said Lexi, the words surprisingly harsh, and she struggled weakly to pull away.

Aaron didn't seem to even struggle as he held her whole arm still by her wrist, and cleanly sliced across it, bright — so bright! — blood stained the knife blade, and was sucked into the groove, traveling down to its handle.

"Ow." Wyatt looked down at his hand, where Erin pricked his hand with her knife, drawing a lot less, much darker, blood, that was similarly drained into the knife handle.

Both blades gleamed, spotless.

As one, Erin and Aaron released some catch on their knives, and the blood they'd collected drizzled out onto a small flat plate with strange arcane symbols on it that had been hidden in the depths of the box, nestled in velvet, and underneath the knives. The blood pooled, and mixed, and then glowed with eerie red light.

"Place your mark upon her—" said Aaron.

"—with the blood, using your fingers," finished Erin.

Surely magic doesn't exist. Surely it was all special effects, a hidden red LED and a thinning agent to make the blood more translucent. Surely.

"What if I don't?"

Aaron frowned.

"You really don't want to do that," said Erin. She grinned. A vicious, anticipating, smile.

"If you refuse, then we make you a **** too. And you're next on the auction block. For refusing to pay, and refusing to take possession of your earnings, both," said Aaron.

Wyatt realized their voices were exactly the same. He gulped.

Magic isn't real. That seemed so quaint now that he was standing there.

He dabbed his index finger in the blood.