Paradise Forgotten Trilogy

by Mackenzie Morris

  The people part when a very large man in a golden robe and purple flowing pants, surrounded by soldiers in power armor, struts up to the stage. He strokes his thick black beard as he nods his head. "Stand that slave up and bring him over here."

  "Yes, Pharaoh Hector." The slaver drags Paris to the edge of the stage and forces him to stand.

  Hector removes his sunglasses then grins as his voracious eyes wander over Paris's thin body. "That burn on the left half of his body . . . could he be the same boy from seven years ago? Yes. I remember his eyes." He trails his thick fingers up the inside of Paris's thighs. "Soft skin, just like a woman's." Hector brings a handful of Paris's hair to his nose and breathes deeply. "Ah, yes. Yes! That delicate scent. How could I ever forget? Oh, Paris, my sweet young Paris, I have been waiting to have you in my arms again. Welcome back, my pet."

  "Will you take this one for yourself, Sire?" The slaver asks.

  "Yes. This time, pierce him like the females then take him to my harem. I hope he hasn't forgotten how to dance for me."

  The slavers pin Paris down on the stage. They pierce his navel and his nipples then insert glittering gold rings. Pairs is squirming and crying uncontrollably. The people cheer and call him all kinds of profane names.

  Orion makes a pained sound then whispers to Troy. "This isn't good."

  "You're so observant. I don't feel like talking right now. I think I'm going to be sick."

  "So they knew Paris already. Poor kid."

  "Just shut up." Troy snaps.

  "Are you crying?"

  What is wrong with this guy? "You don't get it. He's a child."

  "You should be more concerned with your own fate, Troy. You're next."

  8

  A slaver unbinds Troy's wrists before pushing him to the middle of the stage. "This one is a pure Nymph with a good physique, strong enough for physical labor. His piercings are permanent, but there's plenty of space left for more. I'll start the bidding at fifty gold."

  As the bids rise and the slaver's hands prod his body, Troy lets his mind wander to a different place. Mentally, he's somewhere else entirely, somewhere safe where he can be himself again. He's back in Athens with his family making pizza and watching movies like they used to do on so many occasions. Zodiac and Nova are there and Apollo is back to being himself. That's the reality Troy wants more than anything. He wants the comfortable life he had before all of this, before being blamed for a crime he didn't do. Where is his family now? Do they miss him? Troy makes a silent vow that he will find a way to see them again. As long as he knows his siblings are thinking of him and living their lives the best they can, he can manage to survive whatever kind of life is awaiting him.

  "Sold for the outstanding price of one thousand gold." The slaver pulls Troy off of the stage and quickly binds his wrists again before handing him to a rough-looking man with a red turban and a mustache.

  Troy keeps his head bowed and his eyes fixed on the sandy street. There's no reason to risk doing something to displease his new owner, especially when he doesn't know what kinds of rules and punishments are common in this country. Before he finishes weighing the possible consequences for looking his owner in the eyes, Orion joins his side and they are once again tethered together.

  The man leads them out away from the crowds, the brown brick buildings, and colorful markets filled with the exotic scents of curry, citrus fruits, and nutmeg. Underneath the red and yellow sheets hanging above the bazaar, snake charmers sit on elaborately detailed rugs and play the same flute-like instrument that Paris would play for Snakey. Only these snakes certainly have their fangs. Children wearing only small cloths around their waists kick a red rubber ball in the dusty street while an old dog chases them. Families, all dressed in the common flowing robes of the region, barter for vegetables and smoked meats while women in see-through purple skirts with golden piercings adorning their bare chests dance to the enchanting music from the snake charmers' flutes. This place is vastly different from Athens. But Troy already knows that. This place has changed so much since that time he was here.

  As they walk past a group of people, Troy becomes painfully aware of his own nudity. However, the citizens don't even seem to notice as they go on with their daily lives. Perhaps two naked slaves being led through the streets is such a normal occurrence that they have become desensitized to it.

  Their new owner yanks on the rope. "What are your names?"

  "Troy." Troy answers immediately.

  "And you?" The slaver stops and points at Orion. "What is your name, slave?"

  Orion glares at the man with a surge of pure hatred. "Go to hell."

  In one fluid motion, the slaver punches Orion in the face, sending him to the ground and dragging Troy down with him. He stands over them. "Answer me! I will beat that insolence out of you. Now tell me your name or I will whip your friend here." He pulls out a leather strap and wraps it tightly around his fist.

  Orion spits at the slaver's feet. "Go ahead. It will take a lot more than that to break me."

  "Fine. Have it your way." The slaver pushes Troy down and unleashes a brutal beating over his stomach and chest, no sparing any sensitive area.

  Troy knows not to scream or try to avoid the hits. He has to bear it in silence and not show weakness. Oh, gods, Orion. Why won't you tell him your name?

  After what feels like an hour, Orion finally says something. "Orion. My name is Orion. Just stop hitting him."

  "Good." The slaver pulls them to their feet and continues walking. "You will address me as Master Khalid. You two came from the same shipment and I noticed you whispering to each other. I need a pair of able-bodied slaves with a good emotional connection to work as partners down in some ruins on my private land. It's too dangerous to send only one, so you two will look out for each other and keep the other safe. I hope for your sake that you two are friends and not bitter enemies. Hell, if you're lovers, even better."

  Well, Troy thought they were friends, but now he's not quite sure. Why did Orion let him take that beating when he could have prevented it? Now because of Orion's stubbornness, Troy is limping from the stinging welts on his thighs. If this continues, Troy just might have to make Master Khalid angry to get back at Orion and watch him suffer a bit. Orion was Troy's owner before coming here, but now they are equals.

  Master Khalid continues talking in his deep booming voice. "Most slavers pierce their slaves, like that ring in your nose, Troy. However, I like something a bit less flashy. Branding."

  Oh dear gods, no. Can this get any worse?

  "You're no stranger to that either. Though, mine will be somewhere more painful than the spider one on your forehead, pure Nymph. That will come later. Right now, you two will be cleaned and groomed to my liking in the stables."

  Stables? Troy's heart sinks when Master Khalid leads them into a horse stable. Every stall is occupied by two male slaves either being sprayed with water by other slaves in all grey, sitting on the floor and eating, or curled up in the straw sleeping. Every one of the slaves being bathed has a coiled snake brand on his right hip bone. So that's the brand.

  Master Khalid opens the gate to one of the stalls and unties both of them. "I will have one of my maintenance slaves groom you then you will be given the same grey pants and tunic as all of my workers. You'll be fed then I'll brand you. After that, you will want to get all the sleep you can because your work begins in the morning."

  * * *

  Paris sits on the floor in the corner of the dimly lit room where the thick haze of twenty different perfumes hangs in the air. Small groups of women sit on silk cushions and plush beds of lace and fine cotton. They braid each other's hair and laugh at jokes as if there's nowhere else they would rather be. They wrap themselves in pink sheer cloth and apply powder, glitter, and deep red lipstick to their faces while drinking sparkling wine. Not one of them has even acknowledged his existence, though that might be because he has been motionless and silent since those slavers left him here. Hiding behind
a pile of pillows isn't helping him get noticed either. Paris doesn't want any of them to notice him, or look at him, or touch him. He just wants Master Silver to come save him and take him back home to the guild hall. He wants Snakey, and Master Orion, and Troy.

  Paris is too scared to cry anymore. His new piercings hurt and he's tired, but sleep is entirely out of the question. His mind continuously takes him to those terrible haunting places where his memories morph together and form a terrorizing vision of his future here. If he is forced to endure that same abuse that he did years ago, he knows he won't be able to survive it. Not even Master Silver knows all of it. Where is Silver? Surely he didn't get taken, not the man Paris regards as the strongest man in the universe.

  "Did you hear that?" One of the women asks. She comes over to Paris's pillow fort and looks behind it. She gasps and pushes the pillows out of the way before kneeling down in front of him. "How long have you been hiding here? Who are you?"

  Paris tries to scoot away from her, but there's only a stone wall behind him. "Paris."

  "Your name is Paris? Stand up. Let me get a good look at you." She watches him stand then laughs and hides her blushing face. "Oh my goodness. You're not a girl, are you?"

  "No, ma'am."

  "Here." The woman fetches one of the sheer pink skirts and wraps it around Paris's thin waist. "That helps a bit. So tell me, Paris. Why did Hector send a boy down here? Why do you have the female dancer piercings?"

  Paris closes his eyes and crosses his arms across his chest to hide the gold rings. "Hector likes me to . . . dance . . . for him."

  The woman's smile fades. She takes Paris's arm and leads him through the now intrigued group of women who are talking about him. She sits with him on a bed. "We're going to have a little talk. My name is Nyx."

  Paris notices her red hair and green eyes. "You're not a Nymph."

  "No. I'm an android. I saw your Nymph tattoo on your back. How did you get that awful burn? Is it on that entire half of your body?"

  "Yes. Hector likes it."

  "Did he do that to you?"

  "No. My mommy did when I was five. She got mad at me for dropping her necklace in the forge. Then the blacksmith sold me to Hector's men, but I was saved by Master Silver." He reaches up to touch the silver and ruby ring in his septum. "This ring proves I belong to him, but I was stolen and brought here. Now Hector wants me even more this time."

  "Oh, you poor thing!" Nyx holds him to her chest. "I didn't think even a disgusting man like Hector would do this to a little boy. I knew he was creepy, but his is so far beyond what I thought he was capable of. What did he do to you before?"

  Now that the same things are undoubtedly going to happen again and will probably be even worse this time, Paris decides to tell this friendly woman most of it. He has to talk to someone. He clings to her as he speaks. "I was a dancer. Even though I was burned, he made me dance like the women. Then he . . . he hurt me and let all his guards hurt me too."

  "Dance? The dance we all dance for the men?"

  "Yes, but with snakes." Paris says. "The snakes were my only friends and even though they had their fangs, they never bit me."

  "How old are you?"

  "Twelve. Were you here back when I was younger?"

  "No. I was taken from Athens a couple of weeks ago when I tried to return home. President Evans sold me. So here I am."

  Paris smiles at her. "You're really nice. Thank you for helping me. Will you take care of me?"

  "It's every woman for herself in here. We all try to be better than the others so we get food, but you're the youngest here by far so I'll take care of you, okay? The other women are already eyeing you. I wouldn't be surprised if they all dote on you. You're so cute. Well, if you are going to be a dancer like us, then you need to practice like we do. Come with me and we'll begin."

  * * *

  Troy shivers in the cool desert night air and clutches the wool blanket around him. The thin course grey tunic and pants offer little warmth. The snake brand on his thigh still aches, but right now it's not the primary thing on his mind. He glares at Orion who is sitting against the opposite side of the stable stall. "I hate you."

  "What did I do?" Orion asks.

  "You opened your big fat mouth and tried to fight them. You're an idiot, Orion. Either that or you enjoy watching me be whipped for the stupid things you say. If I was a lesser man, I would do something truly heinous so they would take it out on you."

  Orion pulls his blanket up to cover the top of his head. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. I haven't been treated like this since I fled from Athens five years ago. Even then, my owner didn't treat me like a slave. He always told me that Nymphs are Nymphs. It doesn't matter if they are pure or not."

  "I swear if you smart off to them one more time and I get beaten, I'll make you pay. That was the third time."

  "Okay. That's fair."

  "So, where is your Nymph mark? I saw all of you earlier and I didn't spot it."

  Orion laughs. "Checking me out? Sorry, dude. I'm not like Silver."

  "Haha. You're not funny. Don't flatter yourself."

  "I don't have one."

  "You don't have one?" Troy asks. "All Nymph infants are tattooed then it gets expanded and redone when they're teenagers. How do you not have one? It's the law."

  "I honestly don't know. My owner never told me and I didn't think too much about it."

  "What about your parents? Didn't they tell you?"

  Orion looks down at the dirty floor. "I don't speak to ghosts."

  "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

  He lies down on the bed of straw. "Troy?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I'm worried about Paris."

  "Me too." Troy says. "You have to tell me something, though. Hector isn't really a pedophile, is he? Please tell me I read him wrong."

  "You read me wrong."

  That's not even in the same category. "You're not like him. Plus, you didn't hurt that girl. This is a completely different situation. I know without a doubt that you are a good man who would never harm a child. Besides, if Silver trusts you to be around Paris, you know he believes that as well."

  "Thanks, Troy. As for Hector, take every bad thing you think about him then multiply it by a thousand. I don't know all that you've been told about Paris's time here, but that poor boy needs to get out of here as soon as possible before he goes through it all over again. Even someone as strong as Paris can only deal with so much before he breaks."

  "I will find a way out of here and we'll rescue him. Then I'll kill Hector with my bare hands."

  Orion scoffs. "Like you'd ever kill anyone willingly."

  Troy only shakes his head and leans back against the wooden wall. He can see the glimmering stars through the slats in the ceiling, calling to him from their stations in their eternally frozen constellations far from here. What lies out there in the velvet blanket of shadowy space? Does his salvation dwell just outside this galaxy, somewhere forever floating in the emptiness? Watching the cold moonless night pass by overhead only makes him feel colder.

  Orion doesn't know anything. For too long, people have seen what they want to see in Troy instead of what is actually there, lurking just below the polished surface. Only a few people know most of the truth. And only Troy knows it all. Oh well. What is in the past should stay there. If Orion believes that, then Troy will let him continue to believe that.

  "You didn't try to argue with me."

  Troy looks down at Orion. "What are you going on about?"

  "You love to prove me wrong, but the look on your face tells me I was wrong." He props himself up on his elbow and raises and eyebrow. "It's too cold and I'm too hungry to sleep. We have a long few hours of night left so you might as well talk."

  "There's nothing to talk about. You heard Master Khalid. We should try to get some sleep before we start working tomorrow."

  "Who did you kill, Troy?" Orion asks, sounding genuinely concerned now.

  "Forget about it. No one knows
and it's going to stay that way."

  "You can't say something like that then expect me to forget it."

  He sighs and watches the stars more. "Being in this country again is messing with me. You know as well as I do that some secrets need to remain hidden."

  "But I told you mine."

  "All of them?"

  "Well . . . uh, no."

  "Then don't pressure me to reveal my past to you. If the gods want you to know, then you will find out in time. I'm going to sleep." Troy lies down and covers his face with the blanket. "Goodnight."

  9

  Silver straddles the black-haired woman on the bed and tightens his hand around her neck. "Tell me where they are. God help me. I will snap your neck if you don't tell me. I'm done fucking around."

  "Stop!"

  "No. I can't let you abandon them, Mistress!"

  She writhes under his weight and closes her eyes behind her thin glasses. "You're . . . hurting me."

  Silver shakes her then stands up and releases his iron grasp from around her neck. "You have one minute. Go."

  "I can't let you do something stupid." Mistress rubs her throat where the red marks are already beginning to bruise. "If I tell you where they are, you will get that stupid ambition in your mind that you need to storm in there and be the big hero. One man isn't enough for this job, Silver, not even a man like you. I don't care what kind of training you've had as an assassin or a mercenary. Hector's guards will overpower you without blinking an eye."

  "So they're in Kyro."

  "Damn it." Mistress lunges to the door and locks it. She spreads her arms out to prevent him from leaving. "I'm not joking. If you leave the guild hall, I will send my Elimination Squad after you. I can't lose any more agents because you do something stupid that gets them killed."

  "That's why I have to get Orion, Troy, and Paris."