Obsidian Tears

by Jaleta Clegg

  "Flattery is not becoming." But she still sounded pleased.

  I picked myself up from the ground. My lip was bleeding. Reashay was waiting for me. She smiled, slow and cruel. She had a whip in her hand. She snapped it over my shoulder.

  "You will do exactly as you are told."

  I snarled with what little defiance I could muster. She hit me again, this time snapping the whip across my naked belly. I cringed.

  "To the tree." She snapped the whip. I backed away, towards the tree. "You may go now, Arvi," she called over her shoulder. "Tell des Tuarik to call me tonight."

  Arvi climbed into the transport and backed it away, through a gate. The gate slid shut, closing off any sight of the world outside the dirt yard.

  Reashay snapped the whip over my shoulders. I bit my lip to keep from screaming. I dashed for the gate. The whip cracked over my back. I felt my skin split. She'd been playing before. I stopped, flinching as the whip cracked over my head.

  "To the tree," she repeated.

  I sidled around. She lifted a loop of chain from the ground. I backed away. Not chains, never chains. She snapped the whip. I flinched but kept backing away. She hit me, the whip wrapping around my shoulders. It burned. I still backed away.

  I crouched in a corner. She whipped me until I bled. Then she dragged me to the tree and snapped the collar around my neck. I heard the chains clink. It did what the whipping couldn't. I started screaming. I'd been chained and sold as a slave once before, on Dadilan. Darien Harris had tried chaining me to the wall when he kidnapped me and hijacked my ship. He finally unchained me just to get me to stop screaming.

  Reashay didn't seem to care. She beat me with the whip until I passed out. The chain remained around my neck.

  The rattle of it woke me up. I started screaming again. It came out a hoarse croak. I fought the chain, jerking it away from me. The other end was fastened around the tree. I backed as far as I could and fought to get it off. I was alone in the courtyard. Reashay never came out. I couldn't get the chain off, I couldn't get the collar loose. The tree was too thick to budge. I tore at the chain until my hands bled. I sobbed, hysterical and beyond reason.

  I finally stopped, too worn to fight. I crouched on the dirt, naked and hungry and bleeding. No one came. I curled up, at the very end of the chain, and sobbed until I slept again.

  I woke to find a bowl of water near my head. I picked it up and drank, so thirsty I didn't stop to think about drugs until after I had downed most of it. I was still hungry and naked. I was still chained.

  I tried to do it smarter. I felt the lock on the collar around my neck, forcing myself to stay calm. I felt panic building with each rattle of the chain. I ended up yanking at it, swearing and crying and tearing it until my hands were bloody and my neck raw.

  I finally got myself under control again. I crawled back to the tree. The chain was just as secure. I couldn't get free. Even with my lockpicks, I would have been stuck. I huddled in a ball and cried.

  A door opened, a quiet noise in the heat of the courtyard. It was day, hot and dry. The shade of the tree was thin. Reashay stalked into the yard, tapping her whip on her boot and watching me with her cold eyes. She wore a red outfit today, sleeveless and tight fitting. She held a bowl in her other hand. My eyes were drawn to the bowl. Was it water? Was it food? Was I desperate enough to beg?

  I sat up slowly, watching her. She eyed me, cold and aloof. I measured a length of chain in my hands, suddenly burning with anger. She noted the chain and stepped back.

  "You displease me." She went back through the door. Without leaving the bowl.

  I slumped, the chain running out of my hands. I spent a very long afternoon tormented by thirst. Hunger wasn't a problem. It had been so long I didn't feel my empty belly anymore.

  Night came. The darkness was marginally cooler than the day. The dirt yard held in the heat. I paced and fought the chain until I ran out of energy. My throat was so dry I couldn't swallow. My tongue felt swollen and thick. My head was spinning. I finally curled up on the dirt and slept.

  Morning came. Burning light crept slowly down the wall of the yard until it was overhead. I stayed near the tree, crouched in a miserable huddle. The heat built and gathered. The door didn't open. I lay down, on the ground, panting. I saw the air shimmer. I thought I heard Jasyn talking to me. I sobbed, too dry to cry. The afternoon passed slowly, the sun crawled over the sky.

  Evening brought slightly cooler air. I curled up next to the tree, waiting to die.

  Something cool and wet dripped over my face. I sucked it, licking moisture off my lips eagerly.

  "What is your name?" A demand in an arrogant voice.

  "Dace," I croaked.

  A line of fire streaked over my back. I huddled away from it, moaning at the pain.

  "What is your name?" The cold voice again.

  "Please, let me drink," I begged.

  The whip struck, leaving more pain behind.

  "What is your name?"

  "Dace."

  The whip again.

  "What is your name?"

  "Dace." It came out a croak. I cringed, expecting the whip. It never came. I crouched and waited until I finally found the courage to look.

  I was alone again. And thirsty. And in pain. And still chained. I collapsed into my huddle and cried in despair.

  She came again in the morning. I barely moved until she snapped the whip. I shuffled back against the tree.

  "You will kneel when I come," she said.

  "I don't kneel to anyone," I croaked through my aching throat.

  She whipped me thoroughly. She didn't stop until I was unconscious.

  I spent the afternoon wandering in hallucinations. I sprawled under the tree, no longer caring that I was naked. I wanted water. I wanted the pain to end.

  She came again at evening. She walked out of the house, a bowl of water in her hand. I panted. I couldn't move. I was too far gone. She pursed her lips as she studied me. She deliberately poured most of the water out next to my head. I struggled to roll over and lick the ground. The water soaked in immediately. I got a mouthful of barely wet dirt.

  "You will kneel," she said simply.

  I rolled onto my knees. She put the bowl beside me. I reached for it. She slapped the whip across my hands. I backed off, whimpering like an animal. I hated myself for that reaction. She snapped the whip. I crouched on my knees. The water was so close I could smell it.

  "What is your name?" she asked.

  I kept my mouth shut. Dace! I screamed in my mind.

  She tapped her whip on her boot, then turned and left. I waited until I heard the door shut. I glanced up before I moved, making sure she had left. I was alone. I grabbed the bowl and drank the water. It was a scant mouthful. It barely eased the pain.

  I dreamed that night. Nightmares of Vallius and Dadilan and Serrimonia and Xqtl all rolled into one. It wasn't anything compared to reality. I almost preferred the nightmare when I finally woke. It was morning, but the sun wasn't over the wall yet. A thin breeze shifted the limp leaves of the tree. It didn't touch me down below in the yard. I looked to the side. The bowl was gone.

  I resigned myself to another long day of torture. I sat next to the tree, not bothering to move.

  She came when the sunlight was halfway down the wall. She held a bowl out. I crouched, kneeling in the dirt. She set the bowl down and left. I crawled over to it, waiting for the unpleasant surprise I knew was coming. She was going to come and take it back away. I watched the doorway furtively. I lifted the bowl, sniffing. It was some kind of broth. I sucked it down, too thirsty and hungry to resist. She didn't come back.

  The bowl wasn't nearly enough. I wanted more. I put the bowl back down, studying it. Maybe I could make it into a weapon.

  The whip snapped across my hands and sent the bowl spinning away. I yelped and shuffled back.

  "What is your name?" she demanded.

  "Dace," I shot back.

  She beat me with the whip.

/>   "What is your name?"

  "Dace," I screamed defiantly.

  She beat me until I was bleeding.

  "What is your name?"

  "Dace." It was a whisper.

  She walked away without a word.

  I spent three days alone, without water or food.

  I heard the door through a stupor. I struggled onto my knees and waited, staring down at the dirt. She walked over to me and stopped a single arm's length away. I stared at her boots, too sick to fight.

  "What is your name?" she asked.

  I stayed silent.

  "Answer me," she shouted. I flinched. "What is your name?"

  I stayed silent, huddled in the dirt.

  "Your name is whatever I decide it should be," she said after a long moment. She waited to see how I reacted. I stayed on my knees, staring at the dirt. "You have no name, no past. You are whatever I choose to make of you. Please me, and you will be rewarded. Defy me, in any way, and you will be punished."

  She waited a long moment. I didn't move.

  "Do you understand?"

  "Yes," I whispered hoarsely.

  "Yes, des Shira," she corrected.

  "Yes, des Shira," I parroted.

  She waited to see if I was going to fight her. I had nothing left to fight with.

  She put down two bowls and stepped back. I shivered with need, but I stayed still.

  "Good, pet. You may eat now."

  I waited a moment, suspecting a trap. She made no move. I crawled forward and drank from the bowl of water. She watched me, standing over me.

  The other bowl held rolls of some sort of vegetable leaf. I reached for one. It was warm and soft. I ate it hungrily. My stomach cramped. I hadn't eaten in so long I couldn't eat more. I hated to leave the food but I was going to vomit if I tried to eat more. I drank the rest of the water, not nearly enough, and shuffled back.

  "You do not eat what I offer?"

  I wanted to explain. I didn't dare. I cringed away from her voice, huddling into a ball under the tree.

  She laughed. "You will eat what I bring, or I shall not bring more." She dumped the food into the dirt and took the bowls back through the door.

  I waited until my stomach quit protesting and crawled back to the rolls. I picked off what dirt I could and ate a second one. I chewed slowly. It tasted bland. I didn't care. I took the last roll and crawled back to the scant shade of the tree.

  I was horribly sick an hour later. The roll came back, splattering on the tree. I crouched on my knees, retching up nothing. It took me a long time to get my body back under control.

  She never came. I was left, sick and shivering, under the tree until the next morning. Arvi, the man in the tan robe, finally opened the gate. I was so weak I could barely open my eyes. He stood over me and frowned at the mess in the dirt.

  "She said you were sick, not poisoned. Reashay shouldn't have fed you vervain leaves. They're poison to your kind, like most of our food." He crouched over me and roughly checked my eyes and mouth. He wiped his hand on his robe when he finished, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "You'll live. I could almost pity you."

  He left. The door slid shut behind him. I wanted to cry. I was too weak.

  Reashay came through the door. She set two bowls on the ground and walked away without a second glance.

  I stared at the bowls that whole afternoon. Clouds built overhead. The breeze touched me. It set me shivering again. I finally managed to crawl to the bowls. One was water. I drank it. The other was a thin soup. If it was poison, maybe it would kill me. I drank it. I curled up where I was and went to sleep.

  Rain woke me in the middle of the night. It was cold and miserable. The dirt in the yard was almost too hard to absorb it. A thin film of mud covered everything. I huddled under the tree, licking moisture off my arms. The storm passed before long. I finally managed to sleep again.

  A touch on my back sent me scrambling for a weapon under me. I was only half awake. It was an old habit that I'd never managed to break. Reashay beat me again, until I huddled on my knees in the mud and waited for her orders.

  "You will stay," she commanded.

  I crouched, shivering and hurt. I didn't move as she stepped behind me. The collar around my neck clicked open. I stifled my sigh of relief as the chain slithered away. I waited, wondering what she planned now. I didn't have to wait long.

  She slipped a thin band around my neck. It was soft and flexible. I froze when I realized what she was doing.

  "No," I whispered. I scrambled away from her, jamming my hands under the band. I had to get it off. "No!" I shouted as I jerked and pulled at it.

  A jolt of pain washed through me. I screamed and continued yanking at the collar. Another burst of pain. I rolled in the thin mud of the yard, screaming incoherently. Another wave of pain. This one lasted for an eternity. White hot fire raced through me.

  It finally passed. I lay limply in the mud, staring at nothing. The slave collars on Vallius had been old, the technology affected by the passing of time and no maintenance. This was like comparing a club to a blast cannon. Both hurt, but one was much more deadly.

  "Kneel," she commanded me.

  I rolled onto my knees, head bowed, waiting. I retreated mentally from her, from this world, from the whole situation. I saw no way out, other than death.

  "What is your name?" she asked. Her whip tapped against her boot top.

  "I have no name," I whispered brokenly.

  "Very good, pet," she said.

  I was rewarded with more thin broth and a very cold bath.

  Chapter 16

  Jasyn stood in the hatchway, silhouetted in the very early dawn light. A stray breeze pulled at her long hair. She looked out, at the small pockets of activity in the port. Clark came up behind her, silent on bare feet.

  "Couldn't sleep?" he asked quietly.

  Jasyn shook her head, sending her hair rippling in dark waves over her shoulder. "She should have been here a month ago," she said, barely above a whisper. "She isn't going to come back, is she?"

  They'd been through this once before, thinking Dace was gone. He rubbed his wife's shoulder. She looked up, at stars barely visible in the growing daylight.

  "She used to watch the stars. She told me about it, how it gave her hope to see them."

  "She'll come back, some day," Clark said, sounding brighter than he felt. "She'll surprise us."

  "Do you really think so?" Jasyn sighed.

  "I want to believe it."

  They stood in silence, Jasyn leaning back against him. He put his arm around her, wishing he could make the pain less for her. Together they watched the sky lighten to pale blue.

  Clark's eye was caught by a single figure walking purposefully towards the ship. There was something familiar about the person. Jasyn stiffened when he came close enough for them to recognize. She turned away when it was obvious he was headed for their ship.

  "I can't face him right now," she said as she stepped around Clark, into the ship.

  He heard the door to their cabin close. He leaned on one arm against the hatch.

  Darus came closer. He carried an air of defeat, beaten down in the slump of his shoulders. He walked around a refueling crane, making for the Phoenix. Clark watched him draw closer. Darus stopped at the foot of the boarding ramp. He looked up at Clark. His face was lined, he looked older than he ever had. There was no humor in his eyes.

  "Can I come in?" he asked.

  "Jasyn will probably skin you alive."

  "I deserve it."

  Clark was moved by the expression on Darus' face. He hurt as much as they did. "Come on in," he invited, stepping inside himself.

  He busied himself in the galley, finding something hot to drink. He put two mugs on the table. Darus slumped in a chair, dropping a duffle on the floor next to him. He murmured his thanks for the mug, taking it mechanically.

  "So, what are you doing out here?" Clark asked.

  "Lowell didn't send me, if that's what you're asking.
" He shifted the mug around on the table, finally raising it to sip the drink. "I'd resigned myself to dying alone, some day. I convinced myself I was happier that way. Even on Vallius, there were days when I was glad no one would do more than wonder what happened to me. I didn't have anyone to care, either way."

  He trailed into silence, drinking. Clark sat at the table, waiting, uncomfortable with the intimate sharing.

  "I had no idea she was my daughter." Darus cupped his hand over his chin, hiding the tremble in his lips. His eyes were bright. "I've lost her again. I should never have helped Lowell talk her into going." He dropped his hand to wrap it around the mug. He stared into the steam rising lazily from the mug as if it held the question he most wanted to answer.

  "Lowell didn't talk her into it," Jasyn said, behind him. She'd slipped out of the cabin unnoticed. She crossed behind Clark and helped herself to a mug of the drink.

  "He bullied her into it," Darus said. "And I helped."

  Jasyn sat next to her husband. "She didn't do it for him. She told me before she left. If it had been Lowell alone, nothing would have made her go. She went for the Eggstone. And Tayvis."

  "She's still gone." Darus rolled his mug between his hands.

  "So quit blaming yourself," Jasyn said, more gently than the words suggested.

  Silence fell, strained and full of unspoken grief. Darus finally broke it by clearing his throat. "I came to ask you a favor."

  Clark took Jasyn's hand, an unspoken request that she not lose her temper with the older man. She squeezed his back, telling him to mind his own business.

  Darus searched their faces. "I turned in my resignation a week ago. Two more years and I would have had a full pension. I couldn't take two more years." His voice trailed off. He dropped his gaze to stare into his mug and cleared his throat. "Not much work for a weapons engineer. Not one my age. Not outside the Patrol."

  "What do you know about a Bentley twin shaft?" Clark asked.

  "Absolutely nothing," Darus admitted.

  "Then—"

  "Don't say no, please," Darus pleaded. He looked at Jasyn, sensing she was the one to make the decision. He looked so much like Dace Jasyn had to look away.