by J. J. Green
“Addicts? What makes you think I’m an addict?”
Carina didn’t bother to answer as she sped up her pace. She needed to find a jeweler who would give her cash for a gemstone. Then she would return to the spaceport to buy her passage out of town.
“I said,” Bryce reiterated, “what makes you think I’m an addict? I’ve never been addicted to anything in my life.”
Narrowing her eyes as she glanced at the figure half-walking, half-running beside her, Carina said, “You know, you have a really bad habit of not taking no as an answer.”
Bryce grinned. “Guilty. Now, why would you…?” His eyes widened. “Wait. Did you see me take a dose of medicine in the street last night and think it was drugs?” When Carina didn’t answer, he went on, “I don’t take drugs. I’m sick. I have to self-medicate to keep my condition under control. I would show you a syringe, only I don’t have any left.”
This last comment caused Carina to slow down. “What’s wrong with you?”
“It’s a blood disease. Don’t worry, you can’t catch it.”
Carina paused, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. Her first impressions of Bryce had been that he wasn’t a bad person. If he really was sick, it would confirm her instincts and go some way to explaining his behavior.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” he asked.
Carina didn’t reply. He went on, “I can show you.” He turned and lifted up his shirt, exposing his bare back. It was covered in light purple bruises, yet they didn’t look like the marks of a beating.
Suddenly, it all made sense. “You have Ithiyan Plague,” she exclaimed.
Passersby, hearing her words and seeing Bryce’s exposed back, hurried away with horrified backward glances.
Bryce let his shirt fall and turned around once more, looking down. “That’s what they call it, but it isn’t a plague. Like I said, you can’t catch it.” His tone was somber.
“My landlady would put a pill next to my breakfast every morning,” said Carina, “and tell me to take it to ward off Ithiyan Plague. She said it was a blood disease endemic to the planet. Something to do with the radiation. How come you caught it? Why didn’t you take the preventative?”
Bryce’s jaw muscle twitched and he still wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Like I said last night, it’s a long story.”
“Can’t the splicers fix it?”
“They can, only I can’t afford to pay right now. I’ve been sick with it for a while, but the medicine to keep it under control is expensive. So expensive that I haven’t been able to save up the money for the permanent fix. I’m kind of caught in a trap. If I don’t take the medicine, I’ll die. But paying for the medicine means I can’t save up enough money to pay a splicer.”
“So you turned to stealing,” Carina said, “and hanging around in taverns, looking for likely victims.”
Bryce nodded. “I really wouldn’t have hurt you—”
“You got that right.”
“But I was getting desperate.”
“Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t have a lot of money myself. I’m just about to sell something so I can buy a ticket to the city.”
“That’s okay. I don’t want your charity. But I could use your help, and you’re looking for work, right? That’s why you were going to the merc ship? I have a job offer that would pay for my treatment, but I need another person. You’ll get half the payment of course. I need someone who’s handy in a fight but doesn’t look it. Someone like you.”
Carina began walking again. She needed to cash in a gem if she was going to catch the afternoon shuttle. They crossed the street behind a multi-person autocar with tinted windows. It was a luxury vehicle bearing the Sherrerr insignia of three stylized blades. Carina looked back thoughtfully. Had the car come from the Sherrerr estate? It seemed highly likely.
But she’d made her decision. She wasn’t ever going to be able to approach any of the local Sherrerr clan.
Fifteen minutes previously, Carina had thought she was going offplanet. Five minutes previously, she’d been planning to travel to the capital. Now a third possibility had opened up. If Bryce’s story were true, it wouldn’t hurt to help him out. If his story were true. She guessed it wouldn’t hurt to find out more. “What’s the job?”
Bryce grinned. “It’s simple. We just have to find out some information about a place way up in the mountains. It is a little risky, which is why I thought it would be good if you came along. The client especially wants two younger people so we might not look so suspicious.”
A reconn job. Carina had done plenty of those. It shouldn’t be hard, yet she wasn’t very interested. If she didn’t do it, Bryce could probably find someone else. It wasn’t up to her to fix his problems. She was about to refuse when something made her say, “What’s the place?”
“It’s a Sherrerr stronghold.”
Chapter Five
Faye Sherrerr delicately held her napkin to her nose and then waited until her husband momentarily glanced away before slipping it beneath the table. During another brief lapse in his attention on her, Faye risked a peek at the napkin. Two bright spots of blood were vivid in the snowy whiteness. She slid the napkin into her pocket.
She placed her eating utensils side by side on the plate. It was a signal to her husband that she had finished eating and wanted to leave the table. She could never state her intention or even ask her husband out loud. Requesting permission gave the impression that the man was in control of what she did, which was absolutely true. It was just that over the previous ten years or so, Stefan Sherrerr had liked to imagine otherwise.
Faye wondered what Stefan’s warped inner view of their relationship was like. He seemed to nurse a vision of a loving, respectful, equal partnership. Yet that existed nowhere but in his head. Whenever Faye said or did something that contradicted his vision—like asking his permission to do something—it would anger him. On the other hand, acting without his prior approval would send him into an absolute rage.
Finally, Stefan paused in his lecture to their children long enough to notice Faye’s plate. He gave a slight nod.
Faye said, “That was delicious, but I think I’ve had enough. I’ll see you all in the garden later.”
As soon as she’d left the room and was alone, Faye snatched the napkin from her pocket just in time to catch the blood that threatened to drip from her nose. She went quickly to the bathroom, locked the door, and held her head over the basin, removing the napkin. For around a minute, blood slowly dripped from her nose before it finally stopped.
Faye washed the red puddle away and cleaned up. Her reflection in the mirror was pale and tired, and she wondered how much longer it would be before Stefan noticed that she was ill. A lot longer, she hoped. So long that it would be too late for the local splicers to do anything about it and her husband would be forced to take her to a hospital in the capital, where it would be much easier for her and the children to escape.
Someone tried the handle and a knock sounded at the door. “Who is it?” Faye asked.
“It’s me, mother,” her six-year-old son, Darius, replied.
Faye unlocked the door. “I’ve finished. You can come in.”
“I don’t want to use the bathroom. I was looking for you. I want you to play with me in the garden.”
Though the boy was getting a little big to be carried, Faye scooped him up. “I’m too old to play with you. What about Oriana or Ferne?”
Her son had been understandably clingy for the previous three months after he’d been kidnapped, but Faye wanted to encourage him to be less dependent on her. If her ruse didn’t work, she might be leaving him sooner than she wanted.
Darius’ little arms were wrapped around her neck and his face was buried in her shoulder. “I don’t want to play with Oriana or Ferne or Nahla or Castiel or Parthenia. I want to play with you!”
“But I’m an old lady,” Faye replied. “I can’t play with you.” She lowered her son to the floor. “My joints are sti
ff, my bones ache, and I can’t see farther than the end of my nose.”
Darius giggled. “Oh yes you can. You’re looking at me right now.”
“No, I can’t. I’m only looking in the direction of your voice.”
“Oh Mother, you’re teasing. You can see me. I know you can. You can see me here.” He ran a short distance down the hall. “And you can see me here.” He ran to the end of the hall. “And you can see me here,” he said, waving his arms.
“Darius,” Faye exclaimed. “Where have you gone?” She lifted a hand over her eyes as if to look a great distance. “You’ve disappeared.”
The little boy came running back, chuckling. “Here I am. If you really can’t see farther than the end of your nose, I’ll have to lead you to the garden.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her.
Faye allowed her son to drag her down the hall to the stairs. On the way down, they met Stefan coming up. Instantly, Darius fell silent and looked downward. He dropped Faye’s hand and held his own together in front of him.
Stefan tutted. “What’s wrong with you, Darius? Don’t let me stop your fun.” When Darius didn’t move, Stefan said to Faye, “This is your fault. You’re poisoning the boy against me. Don’t think I don’t know it.” He turned to his son. “Hold her hand as you were before.” Darius didn’t respond, and Stefan shouted, “Do it!”
Darius said, “Yes, Father,” before softly taking Faye’s fingertips in his own.
“Now,” said Stefan. “Continue downstairs.”
Both mother and son obeyed, and Stefan said, “That’s it. Have fun.” He stumped upstairs, muttering to himself.
As soon as Stefan was out of sight, Darius perked up a little. “Come on, Mother.” He pulled harder on Faye’s hand as he led her into the garden.
She marveled at the small child’s ability to shrug off his father’s domineering behavior. One of the few happinesses in her life was the fact that the children her monster of a husband had fathered upon her seemed relatively stable and healthy, despite one parent’s harsh, cruel treatment of them.
The girls and boys had the afternoon free after completing all their lessons that morning. As always, most of them were playing in the garden. Only Parthenia, her eldest, seemed to be absent. Perhaps she was in her room. Faye hoped that Stefan was not forcing her to practice her Casting.
Over the years, Faye had tried to limit the skills she taught her children, knowing that the more they could do, the closer Stefan would bind them to him. In the beginning, she had even tried to pretend that Parthenia didn’t have the ability. Then one day Stefan had said he would slit the child’s throat if she was of no use to him.
Thankfully, her husband had softened since then and when it turned out that the child who came next, Castiel, really could not Cast, he had spared his life. It was to Stefan’s own benefit, it had turned out, for Castiel grew more like his father every day and was now his favorite child. Ferne’s mage abilities didn’t attract the same good opinion, and neither did Oriana’s, his non-identical twin. The same pattern was now playing out with Darius. It seemed that Stefan saw his mage wife and children as little more than chattel and tools to further his business schemes. While he saw Castiel, and Nahla, who also could not Cast and was Darius’ elder by two years, as like himself: true Sherrerrs.
“What are you thinking about, Mother?” Darius asked. Faye had sat on a bench that gave her a good view of the garden as Darius had contented himself with looking for fish in the pond at their feet, but now his young gaze was upon her.
“I’m just thinking how fast you’re all growing up and how well you’re doing.”
Darius got up and climbed onto her lap. He barely fit anymore. The little boy looked into her eyes. “I messed up my oration this morning and Tutor Peverel scolded me.”
“Well, oration is quite difficult when you’re six. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“And I can never remember my family history. I get the people confused.”
“There are certainly a lot of people to remember.” Faye wanted to add, you have another family too, somewhere, but she dared not.
Darius gave a heavy sigh and squirmed around until his back was lying against Faye and his legs were dangling on each side of hers. His soft hair tickled her neck. Faye wrapped her arms around him.
“Mother,” Darius said, his tone remaining sad.
“Yes?”
“I know you told me never to talk about her again...”
Faye’s heart froze and she quickly checked that no one was within hearing distance.
“...but I miss Carina.”
Faye hugged her son tightly and bent down to whisper in his ear. “Darius, please. You don’t want any harm to come to Carina, do you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then...I know it’s hard, but you really can’t mention her ever again. Not even to me. Do you understand?”
“Okay. I won’t.”
Faye exhaled. She hoped with all her heart that her son could keep the secret. Stefan had nearly everyone she loved within the grip of his unrelenting fist. Their children lived within a glorious, luxurious prison, their mage abilities chaining them to him. She could not risk him finding out about the one child she had who was free.
Chapter Six
The next day, at breakfast, Stefan looked pleased with himself. The children had all turned up on time, looking clean and neat, and the cook had made his favorite dish of lightly poached fish roe, but Faye detected that there was something more that was responsible for her husband’s uncharacteristically good mood. As always, she couldn’t question or remark upon anything to do with him, so she remained silent and waited for him to explain, if he chose.
Parthenia announced to the table, “Tutor Peverel complimented me on my deportment yesterday. He said my posture and bearing were fit for the Assembly.”
“Well done,” said Faye.
“Yes, that is good to hear, Parthenia,” said Stefan, “though perhaps you need extra lessons on charm. You won’t endear yourself in company if you go around boasting about your achievements.”
Parthenia flushed. “Yes, Father.”
Faye felt for the girl. In her fifteen years of life, she’d never once received a word of praise or compliment from her father that hadn’t been followed by a rebuke or criticism. Yet despite his ill treatment of her—or perhaps due to it—Parthenia seemed to crave her father’s approval. Hence her tactless declaration.
Faye said, “Nevertheless—” Stefan turned cold eyes on her. Faye left the sentence incomplete. The only noise in the room was the scrape of Darius’ spoon as he ate.
Stefan finished his roe and signaled to a servant to take away his plate. Immediately, everyone put down their utensils. Breakfast was over. Two more servants began to clear the table. Stefan removed his napkin from his lap and wiped his mouth. “It seems like a fine day today, don’t you think?”
No one answered, unsure whether the question was rhetorical.
“Yes,” Stefan continued, “there’s no sign of rain or even a stiff breeze. I was thinking to myself, this might be a good day to take a trip into town. What do you think?”
The children gasped. Even Faye’s heart skipped a beat. Ever since Darius had been kidnapped, no one in the family but Stefan had been allowed to leave the estate. The Sherrerrs had been purging Ithiya of Dirksen spies and associates. Stefan had declared that until the job was done, it wasn’t safe for them to step outside the walls. Was he saying they could go out once more? Or was it one of his cruelties? Was he implying that meaning but then he would declare that he would be the one taking a trip outside?
“I think that would be a nice idea, Stefan,” said Faye. If she kept her response neutral, it might encourage him to be kind. Or at least not sadistic.
“I’m glad you agree, darling,” he replied. “Well then, go and get ready, children.”
The children yelled with happiness and scraped their chairs on the floor as they jumped up.
“Quietly, please,” Stefan said sternly. The noise immediately stopped.
“Yes, Father,” said two or three of the children before leaving the room.
Her husband hadn’t yet mentioned if Faye were to be included in the excursion party. She handed her plate to a servant and waited for him to say something that would indicate his permission.
“Do you have anything to do in town?” Stefan asked, his light eyes twinkling in his enjoyment of her plight.
“I do, but nothing urgent. If you would rather I didn’t go… ”
“No, no. You and the children have been cooped up here long enough. Chief Sherrerr’s report says they’ve swept the place clean. It’s safe to leave, or I wouldn’t allow it. I insist you go and enjoy yourself too.”
“I will then,” said Faye, avoiding Thank you out of habit. Thank you meant he had given permission, contradicting Stefan’s self image as a benevolent, loving, indulgent head of the family. It was bitterly ironic. Faye knew first hand what he was capable of, and she would never—could never—forget. But she stood and went over to her husband as he wanted her to, bending to kiss his cheek like an affectionate wife.
He turned and pulled her head close to his, kissing her fully on the lips. Faye fought down her revulsion. She tried to act as if she didn’t hate what he was doing, though through the long years she knew that Stefan had never believed her. She wondered if that made it better for him. She suspected that it did.
When he finally released her, a hunger was excited in his eyes that she knew he would sate that night. Faye forced a smile and went out. In the empty hall, out of sight of the breakfast room, she wiped his saliva from her lips. It was a futile gesture but it brought her some small relief.
The children were already bounding down the stairs dressed in their expensive jackets and hats. Sherrerrs only wore the very best that money could buy, and Stefan was sensitive about his family’s appearance in public, even if they were only seen by the local townsfolk. Faye hurried through them as she went upstairs. If she wasn’t at the front gate quick enough, Stefan might decide to leave without her.
