They'd settled to their respective places on either side of the little fire, now, and Hawk had handed Teige a slab of hot stone topped with a slab of hot venison.

"...So you've�never�heard of the trade?" Teige asked tentatively, pinching the edge of the steak between two taloned fingers and inspecting it. The meat seemed cooked through enough, anyway, and it didn't�look�any different from a regular steak.

"Nope," Hawk replied, tersely.

"I guess I shouldn'ta be surprised," Teige mumbled, and then glanced up to see Hawk wolfing his own venison down with gusto.

"Ennyway," said Teige, ignoring this, "It's centuries old, the trade. Callin' it a 'slave' trade ent entirely accurate, though. People go in, they don't come back out." He shrugged. "They get sold as pets, or for labor--or parts, if they ent pretty or strong enough."

Hawk started at that. He'd forgot his momentary rage completely and now gave Teige a sidelong, hunted look, mouth full and eyes wide.

"Parts," he repeated. "You're fuckin' with me."

"No, sunshine," Teige said somberly, but then grinned with a mouthful of sharp teeth. "But your wide-eyed innocence to this partic'lr cruelty of the worlds is refreshing, I got t'say."

Hawk's brow knit. "Can it, a'right," he said irritably. Teige snickered, and then sobered up, starting in on his own venison.

"Ennyway. The point is, all kinds a' people get taken into the trade. Spirit, demon, human--even halfbreed, sometimes. But Aetheri's had the worst of it."