Snow (tale of the vampire and his slave)

Sia had learned that there were different kinds of silence. There was the peaceful kind—the silence that came after rain, when the world seemed to hold its breath beneath a grey sky. There was the silence of a sleeping child. And then there was the silence of a room full of vampires waiting to taste human blood. That was the kind of silence surrounding her now. Sia stood barefoot behind the iron bars of a large holding cage, her hands clasped tightly around the thin sleeve of her brother's shirt. She could feel him trembling beside her. She didn't look at him. If she looked at him, she would worry. If she worried, she would cry. And if she cried, someone would notice. Crying was a weakness in places like this. Everything was a weakness. Hunger was a weakness. Fear was a weakness. Illness was a weakness. Even kindness could be a weakness if you showed it to the wrong person. So Sia had learned not to show anything. She stood quietly with her head lowered, just as she had been instructed. Beside her, her brother struggled to breathe. "Sia." His voice was barely audible. She turned her head. His face was pale. "Are you okay?" He nodded. It was a lie. She knew it was a lie because his fingers were shaking. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed. "Don't talk." "I can breathe." "Just slowly." He tried. In through his nose. Out through his mouth. It didn't help much. Sia looked around the cage. There were twelve humans inside. They had been brought in during the afternoon, but nobody had told them where they were going. They had simply been dragged through the back entrance, searched, washed, dressed in whatever clothing the auction house had decided was presentable, and locked away. Some had been there longer. Some were young. Some were old. One woman had spent the entire evening whispering a prayer under her breath. Another man had been staring at the floor for so long that Sia wasn't sure he was still aware of what was happening around him. Sia understood him. Sometimes it was easier not to be aware. The auction hall was on the other side of the enormous doors. She could hear voices through them. Laughter. Music. Glasses clinking. The occasional burst of excitement whenever another human was brought onto the stage. It sounded almost like a celebration. That was the strangest thing about vampire society. They could make anything beautiful. Their palaces were beautiful. Their clothes were beautiful. Their parties were beautiful. Even their cruelty was dressed in silk. Sia had learned that years ago. Before the auction house, she had lived somewhere else. A place that had once been called home. She remembered a small house. A wooden table. Her mother's hands. Her father's voice. Her brother running through the yard. She remembered warmth. She remembered laughter. But the memories were scattered now, like pieces of glass she couldn't safely pick up. There were things she remembered clearly. And things she couldn't remember at all. She knew she had once had a name. She knew her brother's name. She knew her parents had loved them. But when she tried to remember her own name, there was nothing. Only emptiness. The first time she had asked her brother, he had stared at her as if she had asked the strangest question in the world. "Sia," he had said. She had repeated it. "Sia." He had smiled. "That's your name." So she had accepted it. Perhaps Sia was her name. Perhaps it wasn't. It was the only thing she had. The only name that felt remotely familiar. She had heard a slave trader use it once. "Sia, get over here." Another time, her brother had called her by it. "Sia, wait." That was enough. She didn't need anything more. The memory of her parents was harder. Their deaths had happened years ago, during the war. The war between humans and vampires had torn through villages, towns and cities. It had turned neighbors against one another and left families scattered across borders that no longer seemed to matter. Sia remembered fire. She remembered screaming. She remembered her mother's hand slipping from hers. After that, everything became confused. She and her brother had survived. Her uncle had taken them. At first, Sia believed that meant they were safe. She had been young enough to believe that adults knew what they were doing. She had been wrong. Her uncle had not protected them. He had protected himself. When food became scarce and soldiers began moving through the region, he decided that two children were burdens he could no longer afford. He sold them. Sia didn't understand it at first. She remembered asking when they were going home. Her uncle never answered. Eventually, she stopped asking. The first auction house had been smaller than this one. The second had been worse. By the time they reached the place they were in now, Sia had stopped counting. Her brother's asthma had made everything harder. He could not run as quickly as the others. He could not work for long periods. Sometimes his chest tightened so badly that he could barely speak. And every time it happened, the people who owned them complained. Useless. Weak. Expensive. Those were the words they used. Sia hated those words. Her brother wasn't useless. He was her brother. That was enough. Whenever food was given to her, she divided it. Whenever she received medicine, she tried to make it last. Whenever they were punished, she tried to take as much of it as she could so they would leave him alone. She had learned quickly that survival was not about being strong. It was about knowing when to bend. Knowing when to remain silent. Knowing when to disappear. And knowing when to fight. Tonight, she had no idea which one would save them. The door to the holding area opened. Every human inside the cage went still. Two vampire guards entered. Their eyes moved across the prisoners. One of them pointed. "You." A young man was dragged forward. His feet scraped against the floor. The woman who had been praying stopped. Sia lowered her head. She knew what happened at the auction. She had seen it before. The humans were displayed. The vampires inspected them. The strongest were tested for labor. The healthiest were prized. And the blood of those considered valuable was sampled before the sale. A slave trader could claim that a human had exceptional blood, but vampires preferred to judge for themselves. Blood was more than nourishment to them. To some vampires, it was entertainment. To others, status. Certain bloodlines were considered rare. Others were prized for their taste. Some vampires could identify a human's lineage by a single mouthful. Sia had always found that terrifying. A person could stand before a vampire and be reduced to nothing more than the taste inside their veins. The young man was taken through the doors. A few moments later, the crowd erupted into applause. Sia closed her eyes. Her brother leaned against her shoulder. "Sia." "I'm here." "Don't let them take you." Her throat tightened. "I won't." It was another lie. She didn't know if she could keep that promise. Nobody could. The doors opened again. The young man was brought back. His face was pale. Sia looked away. Then came another. Then another. The night continued. Eventually, the auctioneer's voice became louder. "Ladies and gentlemen, our next lot."