Free Token (Token Chronicles) by Ryan Gressett Page B

to earn some sort of leverage here. They obviously want to keep me happy because I may potentially earn them a huge chunk of money. So I plan to milk this opportunity for as long as possible.
    “I would like to see my friends, just to be sure they are actually okay.”
    She smiles and says, “I thought you might make that request.”
    She raises her left hand and motions for the Grods to open the door. When they do, I see they all three are still there and seem to be physically unharmed. I begin to rush over to them, but my body is still too battered and bruised to move quickly. They come to me instead, and we all embrace each other, but I cringe in pain at every hug.
    They all talk to me so fast I have no time to answer any of them.
    “Are you alright?”
    “What happened to you?”
    “We were worried sick. Thought you had gotten yourself killed.”
    “I am fine now,” I answer. “Just thankful to see all of you are okay.”
    The Grods step back in between us and direct them back outside of the office and quickly shut the doors ending our brief reconciliation. I am disappointed our reunion was so short, but I turn back to look at Emissary Quinn.
    She says, “I just wanted to show you I can be generous as long as you are compliant. I expect the same of you in regards to your time and service.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Well, because you have generated so much interest, we have decided to take advantage of this opportunity. We are going to throw you into this quarter’s auction, and we have already been sending out mass waves of advertisements for the auction for weeks,” she says gleamingly. “You will be our prized Token.”
    I realize again I have had no sense of time since I have been brought to the Ambassador’s mansion. The last time I was out, the next auction was a week away. Maybe I will have a few days before I am sent up.
    “When is the auction going to take place?”
    “Tomorrow,” she replies. “If you are going to be ready in time, we have quite a bit of work to do. First, we have to restore you, to get you back to normal. We need all of this done by tonight so we can send out more last minute commercials tomorrow. It will be quite the event, we are expecting our largest cash influx ever for the auction!” she exclaims. “Because of the highly anticipated interest from the Elitists for this particular auction, we are even throwing in some of our other top prospects in. Your friends will be going through too. Isn’t that just so exciting?”
    I am relieved to hear I will not be going through this process alone, but I begin to feel guilty. This may make the process easier for me, but their lives, like mine, will essentially be over three months earlier. All because of me.
    She waves the Grods over and orders, “Take him to the Restoration Rooms.” She looks at me and says, “Don’t worry, they will have you back to normal in no time. I know you will do just great tomorrow.”
    The Grods do not grab me this time, but they point me in which direction to go as they flank me on both sides. Once we are in the metallic box, they press a button, and I feel the force of the movement indicate we are going to a lower level than before. The ride takes longer than the previous ride to the office. I am guessing we are now below ground.
    We step out into the clean white polished hallway and walk towards the double doors at the end. When the doors open, all I can see in the room is a seven-foot long copper colored tube supported by six wide arching legs sitting directly in the center of the room. There is a mirror behind the box with a door to its left, but nothing else. A thin black-haired woman with brown sunken eyes and pale brightly painted skin approaches. I have never seen a woman’s face with so much color. On her lips, cheeks, eyelids. Almost everything seems to be decorated with a color different from her natural skin. Hadley was always so beautiful whether she had been working all day out in