Hidden Revenge

by Norah J. Stone

  Throwing the peeled potato onto the steadily growing pile, Amelia ran the back of a hand across her brow, then reached for the next one. She knew the fires were necessary to prepare the food, but after the chilly, rainy fall weather in the Lower Kingdom, enduring this much heat was quite an adjustment. She wished she could complete her task outside where only the sun would warm her skin – a quite pleasant experience after so much fog and rain – but no such luck.

  The cook would sooner throw her into the fires than make any allowances for her.

  The plump, sharp-eyed woman seemed to hate humans just like her masters, and to make things worse, she also disliked Amelia personally for some reason. Amelia couldn’t fathom why. It wasn’t like she had done anything to aggravate the regent of the kitchen. She wasn’t even trying to strike up a conversation with the rest of the staff anymore – not like it would do her any good to make the effort since they all seemed determined to stay as far away from her as possible. The others only spoke to her when it was absolutely necessary, mostly to deliver instructions, but otherwise, they did their best to ignore her.

  Amelia’s hand clenched around the potato in frustration. A week had already gone by since her arrival – a whole week, and she hadn’t been able to glean anything of importance. Well, she could definitely confirm that the rumors about the Fae’s disposition towards humans weren’t overstated, but other than that … she had nothing to show.

  Amelia wasn’t allowed to roam around the mansion freely. In fact, she was restricted to the kitchens and the part of the house where the servants’ quarters were located. People wouldn’t talk to her, and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Aroan since their initial meeting in the study.

  His Lordship had yet to send for his newest possession.

  Pain burst through Amelia’s hand, tearing her from her thoughts. She let the potato fall to gaze at her hand in confusion, and a string of expletives escaped her.

  In her rising anger, she’d unwittingly stabbed her own hand with the dull kitchen knife, somehow nearly managing to sever her ring finger in the process. Now bright red blood streamed from the wound, dripping onto…

  “Don’t you get that onto my floor,” the regent of the kitchen screamed at her, exasperated. “Don’t just sit there, either,” she continued, rounding fully on Amelia. “Get out right now, and don’t you come back until you’ve done something about the bleeding!”

  Already a bit light-headed, Amelia got to her feet. She needed to find something to wrap her hand in. She looked around, but, as expected, no help was forthcoming, so she started for the servants’ quarters where she’d been assigned a chamber.

  The room was tiny and only equipped with a narrow bed and a simple dresser, but at least, Amelia had some real furniture and wasn’t forced to sleep on the cold floor or in the back of a prisoner wagon anymore. Honestly, it was far better accommodation than she’d enjoyed for quite a while – much better than a human slave like her deserved, as the head servant had made sure to point out, but since there was no outbuilding for slaves, they couldn’t very well place her elsewhere.

  At first, Amelia hadn’t understood how that was possible, but in fact, there didn’t seem to be any other slaves at the mansion.

  She was the sole one around.

  As she neared her room, Amelia started feeling more and more faint. The sparsely lit corridor she’d just entered blurred at the edges and she shook her head to clear her senses. She knew she had to keep her wits about her long enough to do something about her hand if she didn’t want to bleed out – she was sure that’s what would happen if she became unconscious, slowly but surely.

  Here, no one would bother with saving her.

  Despite all her efforts, Amelia finally lost her balance, but before she could actually fall, a slender arm came around her waist, steadying her. Amelia didn’t even have the energy left to glance over to see who had come to her aid, so she simply allowed the mysterious person to steer her in the direction of her room. She stumbled along, only registering that they’d reached their destination when she felt the bed give way under her. She vaguely recalled hearing soft steps getting farther away, then a door closing softly, but afterwards …

  She must have passed out, Amelia realized with a start and hastily tried to sit up, but a hand settled onto her shoulder, gently pushing her back down.

  “Stay,” a hushed feminine voice said, and as Amelia opened her eyes, the slight figure of the speaker came into focus.

  Dark, nearly black eyes. Equally dark locks framing breathtaking features. Ears that were even more pointed than those of the Fae.

  Her savior was a light elf. The timid little girl who worked in the kitchens.

  “You need to lie down a bit longer,” the elf went on, then fell quiet. She remained seated at the edge of Amelia’s bed, though, with her eyes still on her patient.

  Wetting her lips, Amelia whispered, “Thank you.”

  The young girl only dipped her head in acknowledgement.

  “I mean it,” Amelia said with a little more strength, and that was the truth. “I didn’t reckon anyone would help me.”

  Her elven savior just kept on looking at her wordlessly.

  Amelia didn’t want to bother her further, but her throat was parched, so she asked, “Can I have some water, please?”

  The young servant bounced up as if she were on springs. She was out the door and back again with a jug in an instant before Amelia could even blink.

  Amelia wasn’t too surprised, though. Elves were renownedly agile and fast. They had even sharper senses than their Fae cousins. What did surprise her was that an elf had decided to help her – twice now, to be exact.

  It was also a curious thing that the girl lived in a Fae household at all when most of the Fairykind tended to keep to themselves. Elves in particular usually dwelled deep in the forest where they had their own hidden settlements. Amelia decided against asking her about that at the moment, though, because she didn’t want to scare the girl away.

  The elfling set about handing her the jug, and Amelia automatically lifted her hands to take it, but with the thick bandage covering her left, she couldn’t actually grasp the pitcher.

  “I’ll aid you.”

  The chit lifted the jug to her lips, and Amelia took a tentative sip, then another. Clear, fresh water slid down her throat, making her feel a lot better. When she’d finally taken her fill, the servant girl set the jug on the floor, then plopped back down next to Amelia who set about examining her bandaged hand. During the time she’d spent with Naera, Amelia had learned quite a bit about treating injuries, and her hand appeared to have been expertly wrapped.

  “You did well,” she ventured, looking back at her companion. “You might have very well saved my life,” she added, needing to voice that. She was careful with her phrasing, though, lest she unwittingly incur a debt without knowing the elfling better, because even though the young servant wasn’t a Fae herself, she lived with them, and Amelia didn’t have any idea how much of their ways and traits she’d adopted. She seemed like a nice person, if a bit shy and quiet, but still. Admitting to a life debt could be very dangerous.

  “I’ve cleaned the wound as best I could after staunching the bleeding, so you won’t get an infection,” the elfling responded hesitantly, describing the steps she’d taken to ensure Amelia’s health instead of saying anything about a debt, so Amelia decided to take her at her word for now and only check her hand later. “I can’t give you anything for the pain, though.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve had worse,” Amelia said, trying to reassure the girl. Her statement had the opposite effect, though. The elf’s eyes widened in alarm at her admission, so Amelia decided to steer the conversation in another direction and asked, “What’s your name?”

  The servant girl appeared to consider how to reply, but for some reason, she must’ve decided Amelia could be trusted with the information because she finally said, “Evana,” and as she voiced her name, it rang
true. Amelia could feel it in her blood, sense it at her very core.

  The young elf had just shared her true name with her.

  So, the young servant either hadn’t learned much from the Fae, after all, or she indeed thought Amelia trustworthy. But surely even a girl her age knew that true names had power, even if they were offered to humans. Most of all if the information was given freely.

  “What are you called?”

  The way that question was framed kind of decided it. After all, the elfling hadn’t inquired after Amelia’s name. She’d merely asked what she was called. To trust so easily, though … It was risky, to say the least. Even if Amelia had no intention of using the knowledge to the detriment of the elfling, the girl couldn’t have known that. And no matter how much Evana confiding in her meant to Amelia, she couldn’t respond in kind.

  “Here, I’m mostly called slave. Or simply human.” Not to mention the cruder monikers. “Among humans, I am currently known as Amelia,” she added, infusing as much honesty in her statement as she dared.

  She wouldn’t endanger others, though.

  “Amelia.” Evana seemed to try it on her tongue. “That’s pretty.” She looked at Amelia with a conspiratory gleam in her eyes. “I understand why you’ve chosen it.”

  Amelia smiled at the girl – her first real smile since her capture. She soon sobered, though, and her smile vanished.

  “Evana, does the cook know you’re here?”

  The elfling ducked her head guiltily, but after a second, her chin came back up.

  “I slipped out after you left, when no one was watching.” She paused. “I couldn’t not help.”

  Amelia heaved a sigh.

  “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

  It would be a poor way to show her gratitude and repay Evana’s kindness.

  “I don’t think I’ve been missed yet,” the elf said after some consideration.

  Still, she had better get back to work, just to be sure.

  “You should hurry back, then. I will be along shortly,” Amelia assured her, then added, “But, Evana … You can come back sometime if you like.”

  The grin that lit up the girl’s face was a sight to behold.

  The next second, the elfling was gone – as if she’d never been there in the first place.

  ~ *** ~

  Late that afternoon, Amelia was finally allowed out into the vegetable garden.

  Because of her injury, she’d been useless in the kitchen. She couldn’t peel or chop with one hand, and her attempt at cleaning up had led to her leaving bloody spots or handprints on various surfaces whenever she forgot about her handicap. Finally, the cook had gotten weary even of her sight and, deciding that the responsibilities of a kitchen drudge might as well include collecting produce and the like, banished her outside.

  To Amelia’s great pleasure.

  At least, now she didn’t have to endure the heat of the fires and furtively being stared at. Though there were guards posted around the mansion, at this hour, she had the garden to herself, and even as she surveyed one vegetable patch after another, she could feel the slight breeze on her face and soak up the last rays of sunlight. Amelia had always been connected to the natural world, and unbeknownst to her, the mistress of the kitchen had just gifted Amelia with its nearness – as well as a bit of respite.

  The expansion of Amelia’s field of responsibilities also meant that she was now somewhat free to explore the grounds around the mansion. She wouldn’t dare to test her newfound liberty just yet, but the cook’s decision did open up new possibilities. With time, it would lead to Amelia learning more about the area and the Fae who dwelled there, along with their habits.

  Exactly the kind of information she’d need to plan her escape.

  Chapter Ten

  As the days went by, the residents of the mansion slowly got accustomed to the presence of a human among them.

  The novelty of Amelia’s sudden appearance in a household filled with Fae and only a few of the Fairykind was wearing off, and as it did, the number of curious glances thrown her way decreased as well. Amelia didn’t kid herself, though –believing that she was growing on at least some of the people she worked with day by day would have been foolish.

  No, the only thing that’d changed was that by now, they were more used to her presence.

  Well, there was one other thing that’d changed – collecting produce had indeed been added to Amelia’s tasks, along with weeding patches and picking berries. Thus, her forays into the gardens became more and more frequent. The guards were aware of her allowance to be out there, and they weren’t keeping such a sharp eye on her anymore. This, in turn, enabled Amelia to better survey her surroundings and take in details like the amount of guards around the mansion, the time of their shift changes, and the routes they patrolled, or the exact location of the outbuildings, and how far the woods were from there or from the mansion.

  Spring had truly arrived at last, as well, awakening even the plants that hadn’t been mystically nudged into bearing fruit sooner. Some trees were sprouting leaves, while others were already blooming in profusion. The wind carried the fragrance of jasmine, and it felt wonderful to spend time outdoors under the clear blue sky. Amelia could practically feel nature beckoning – urging her to wind through the nearby shrubs, slip into the forest and race along with the wild creatures who lived there, maybe even embrace flight.

  It didn’t mean that she could do so, though, Amelia reminded herself as she plucked off another tomato and let it fall into her basket. Not right now, when it was daylight and she was in plain sight. She had yet to learn how much control that wretched thing around her neck had over her, though, and how it would react if she stepped out of line and pushed the bounds a bit. She hadn’t been punished by that means so far, and while she didn’t relish the idea of being suffocated, she needed to know what to expect when she made a run for it at last.

  Well, then. She’d test the collar today at dusk. Thanks to the observations she’d made, it wouldn’t be too difficult. She could simply slip out when the guard left his post to relieve himself as usual. If she had to do this anyway, though, she might as well try and get some enjoyment out of the experiment.

  ~ *** ~

  Roan

  It was nearly evening when Roan became aware that something had changed.

  Sitting at his desk, he paused midmotion, not even noticing when a drop of ink landed on the letter he’d been finishing up. It took him a second to realize it was the subtle stirring of his power that had snagged his attention – that it was alerting him to a slight shift of … its own location.

  How strange.

  Then again, it wasn’t all that surprising if he took into consideration what he’d been experiencing – and struggling to get used to – since the arrival of that slave girl. It seemed that to some extent, he was conscious of her. An unintended side effect of the misbegotten plan he’d formulated in a split second, he supposed.

  Heaving an exasperated sigh, Roan set down his quill and let himself fall back in his chair.

  This was also connected to the girl. She had to be the cause of this strange sensation. Not that Roan blamed her – it was his own damn fault for attempting to mark her in a way that wouldn’t mar her skin for life, so she wouldn’t have to endure the indignity and the agony of a branding.

  Sure, his intentions had been noble, but he’d been trying to achieve something he’d never even seen done before. Thus, he bore the blame, and since he didn’t want to tempt Fate and end up making matters worse by attempting to undo what he’d done unless it was absolutely necessary, he had to bear the consequences, too.

  On the positive side, the binding seemed to serve its purpose. After all, every Fae in the household could sense that the girl was marked as his. The human hadn’t tried to escape thus far, either, and he had yet to hear about her willfully disobeying orders.

  Surely, that was something.

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, Roan
closed his eyes. He had no wish to deal with anything further after the stressful day he’d had, but this wasn’t a task he could simply pass on to someone else, so he focused inward … until he became one his energy, became bright flame and smothering darkness. Then he reached out to find his displaced part … reached farther, and farther still … There! He’d located the volatile piece of energy, but …

  Roan’s eyes snapped open.

  That spark was moving rapidly, and it was getting farther away by the second.

  She was getting farther away by the second.

  Groaning, Roan got to his feet, darted out the door and down the stairs, his unfinished letter forgotten. So much for applauding her compliance, even if only to himself. Roan crossed the hall as fast as he could and threw open the front door, startling a maid in the process, then rushed outside. Once there, he paused for a second to orient himself before he started for the back of the house and hurried into the forest.

  She wasn’t that far away, he realized after a couple of steps as be became somewhat calmer. In fact, she’d … stopped. She wasn’t trying to get away any longer.

  That puzzled him even more than the strange feeling that had alerted him to her escape attempt or her daring to try in the first place. Though it wasn’t like he hadn’t known on some level that she was a brave one since she hadn’t told him the truth when he’d inquired after her name.

  She’d dared to lie to him, a mighty Fae who was her new owner and master, and so soon after his threats and getting a taste of his power, no less.