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Aidan spent the entire voyage to the northern mainland in the little cabin. It was the slave catcher's cabin, and he was the dark-haired man who'd been so amused by Aidan's violent resistance. The captain was in charge of the ship, but the slave catcher was in charge of the slaves, at least until they reached port.

He was not exactly attentive in his duties. In fact Aidan saw little of him, for he spent much of his time dicing with the sailors and other slavers, and very little paying attention to the slaves. He certainly spent little time paying attention to Aidan, who spent nearly the entire trip with his hands bound behind him, curled up in a corner of the cabin. He was released from the magical bindings in order to eat, and then locked back up immediately, this time in a set of more ordinary manacles. Those rubbed and chafed terribly, so that by the time the journey was through his wrists were rubbed raw, while his shoulders and arms ached from being held in one place for so long. Still he suspected that his lot was better than that of the others, crammed into the hold with scarce room to lie down.

The journey was fortunately short as sea voyages go, it took only two weeks to reach their destination. There the slaves were herded off the ship and into a kind of warehouse, where they were stripped, hosed down, and prepared for sale.

Those preparations included having their claws trimmed. The claws couldn't be removed completely without a bloody partial amputation, which Aidan was threatened with if he fought back again. But he had given up on fighting. He didn't want to prove himself more human. So he was docile, too full of despair to do anything but go along easily. Even when they strapped his arms down and cut his claws back to the quick, so that some of them bled, he didn't fight.

Most of the captives, naked and still damp from being washed down, were herded into pens, sorted by age and gender. A few were separated out and put on display on a kind of platform at one end of the warehouse. Aidan was among that number, as was Master Weaver. They were too far apart to speak together, but Aidan found he was a little glad to see his former master, even if he would have been gladder if Master Weaver had somehow escaped.

Humans began wandering among the pens, and Aidan soon figured out that the penned slaves were for sale at a set price, but he and those with him had been set aside for an auction. As the time for the auction neared the crowd gathered in front of the platform where he stood grew. A few of those in it came up for a closer look at the slaves. Some handled them with casual disregard, examining eyes and teeth as though they were animals. No doubt to those humans they were. Though the slaver standing beside Aidan warned off any who wanted to handle him, pointing out the red ring he wore. Some of the would-be slave owners actually flinched back on seeing it.

That roused him a bit from his apathy, anger and contempt displacing some of his despair. He laid his ears back and snarled at the next to approach him, and could almost laugh at the sudden fear on the human's face as he stepped back. As if he could harm any of them! As if he wasn't half their size, with his claws clipped and his hands once again bound behind him! And yet they flinched.

Though one would-be buyer didn't seem so affected. He didn't step back at all when Aidan snarled, though he also didn't put his hands on Aidan immediately. Instead he peered curiously at the rings in Aidan's ears. "Is that black ring for real?" he asked the slaver.

"Oh aye. Our rings never lie, sir."

"I hope you don't mind if I verify that for myself. I can read auras. And I've never even heard of a black ring felitan over the age of twelve."

"This one's seventeen, and you can feel free to verify it sir, we guarantee all our slaves."

"I see." A hand touched Aidan's chin, tilting his head up. Aidan was too startled to resist. He found himself looking up, even further up than usual for the man was tall, into a pair of pale eyes, a gray-gold that was nearly colorless, set in a pale face and framed by even paler hair. The man was an albino. As he held Aidan's chin with a gentle firmness Aidan felt the faint tingle of magic once more. The man let his hand fall and smiled. "Well, it seems your rings do indeed tell the truth. Fascinating."

"He'll be up for auction in half an hour, sir."

"I'll be here bidding then."

When the bidding began, Aidan couldn't help but watch the crowd and see whose hands went up. He saw Master Weaver sold to a short, mild-looking human woman, who seemed extremely pleased to have won the auction. Several other people he knew at least vaguely were sold in turn, and then only he was left.

"Now this auction will be a little bit different," said the auctioneer. "This slave is a black-ring virgin felitan of seventeen years old. I can tell you right now that this is the first time such a thing has ever been on this auction block. It may well be the last. I'm required to inform you that he's also wearing a red ring. But his claws have been clipped and he hasn't shown any signs of violence since his capture, so you have little to worry about there. Nevertheless this auction is at your own risk.

"As with all our virgin slaves, we'll be holding this auction in two parts. The winner of the first round of bidding gets an hour alone with him. So long as he isn't maimed, no questions will be asked about what you do with him." There was a leer in the auctioneer's voice, and suddenly Aidan's anger and apathy were swept away entirely by terror. He started trembling. The auctioneer didn't even notice, he just continued. "We'll provide a healer should he end up a bit damaged, that's included as part of the deal. So the winner of the second round of bidding, the one who gets to own this lovely lad outright, will get undamaged goods, don't you worry. Of course the same person is perfectly free to bid on both! So let's begin."

Aidan knew he should be watching the bidders, looking to see who won, but he couldn't. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and try not to tremble. He wanted to curl up in a ball and whimper. He had guessed what sort of horrible things Master Weaver must have meant all along, but he had tried to put them out of his mind. Now he could ignore such thoughts no longer.

The bidding was fast and eager, and even though he was paying it little attention, it seemed like the price for just the first auction was going quite high. At last there was a winner, and Aidan opened his eyes, needing to know. It was one of those who had flinched away from him, he thought. A large human man, fair-haired and bearded, heavy-set. Smiling. Aidan shuddered.

The bidding on the second auction began, and this time he watched the crowd, though he was still shivering with terror. The bidding was once again fast, but soon most of the bidders had dropped out, leaving only a handful. The winner of the first auction was not among them. Apparently he was not interested in owning Aidan. Aidan tried not to think about that. The albino man who had been without fear was still bidding. One by one the other bidders dropped out, and at last the albino was the winner. Somehow that seemed like a better, more tolerable thing. The kind of man who would own a slave was not the kind of man Aidan wanted to be helpless before, but at least this one wasn't also a coward. Cowards were bullies, and bullies had been bad enough when he hadn't been a slave.

The first winner was suddenly on the platform beside Aidan, looking at him with that same smile still on his face. There were no coins exchanged, only slips of paper, but Aidan knew that the deal was done. The slaver that had stood by his side was joined by a second. They led him off between them, with the large, smiling man following. Aidan was surprised he could walk, he was trembling so violently. His mind shied away from thinking about where he was headed.

He couldn't escape knowing for long though, for they went through a door and down a hallway lined with small office rooms, until they came to one at the end of the hall that was different. It was furnished not with a desk but with a bed. Aidan's terror peaked at this stark evidence of what was about to happen.

"You have one hour from when I close the door," said the slaver. "Do you want him chained up? Will you need anything else?"

"Do chain him, yes," said the man. "Face down please, I don't fancy getting bitten."

"Yes sir."

Aidan had thought that his terror had peaked before, but now it did in earnest. He felt himself growing dizzy, as though he might faint, but he did not quite gain such merciful escape. Instead he was dragged to the bed and pushed down onto it. The manacles on his hands were removed, replaced by ones that had hung unnoticed from the bed posts. His feet were chained down too, leaving him spread-eagled. He whimpered in terror when the slaver finished, he couldn't help himself.

"One hour," said the slaver, and then Aidan heard the door shut.

---

When the door once again opened, Aidan was hardly aware of it. All he knew was the pain of what had been done to him. What was, indeed, still being done to him, for the man had not been content to merely rape him once. He had taken his pleasure several times, and as the familiar voice of the slaver called out, "Hour's up!" he was once again atop Aidan, who had given up on struggling and was lying still, trying to blot the reports of his own senses from his mind.

"Just... a moment... more..." the man atop Aidan grunted breathlessly.

"Well..."

"Absolutely not," said a third voice. "The time is up, that means he belongs to me now, and I will not have another man using my property."

"Hey... Let me... just finish..."

"No, I don't think so." Suddenly there was a startled cry, and the weight was gone from over Aidan. Trembling, he looked up to see that the tall albino had somehow picked up the big blond man and thrown him across the room. He lay in a heap against one wall, looking shocked and angry. "Get your things and be gone," said the albino scornfully.

The big man opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again at something he saw in the albino's eyes. He hurriedly gathered up his clothes and scurried from the room without even putting them on.

"Better. Now, about that healing?"

"Of course," said the slaver. He beckoned and another human came into the room, this one a woman. She came over to the bed and put her hand on Aidan's trembling head. He flinched away from the touch, but could no more escape it than he had been able to escape the violation before it.

This touch soothed rather than hurt though. Magic tingled through him and as it passed it removed pain. From the torn tissue beneath his tail where the human had been too large for him, to the raw bands around his wrists and ankles where he had struggled too hard, all his pains slowly disappeared, the wounds knitting up until it was as if they'd never been.

The albino nodded approvingly. "Good. Now, unchain him."

The slaver looked surprised. "Are you sure? He is a red ring."

"Well I can hardly leave him as he is. If you don't want to do it yourself, you can give me the keys."

"Uh. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." He handed over a key ring. The albino took it without further word and started unlocking the manacles that held Aidan spread-eagled on the bed. Released from the chains, all Aidan did was curl into a ball, his tail tucked around him, and cry more. But when the albino reached out and touched his shoulder, it was too much for him. This touch he could do something about, and he did, lashing out not with his blunted claws but with his teeth, sinking the sharp canines into the man's hand. He tasted blood.

The albino let out a startled yelp and pulled his hand back. Then he chuckled ruefully. "Well, I suppose I deserve that. It's obvious that he will not be docilely following me home in this state. So." He reached out again, this time touching Aidan's head. Aidan wanted to lash out once more, but the instant he felt the touch a lassitude swept over him. He found his eyes suddenly heavy, and moments later the world went away and he dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep.