by Sarah Hawke
“I will do anything for you, Master,” I lied. “Please, give me another chance.”
His hand touched my cheek, and he smiled so faintly it was almost imperceptible. My tears intermingled with the blood and started to sting.
“You’ll get it,” he said, leaning in to kiss me. His lips were colder than the iron shackles around my wrists. “I promise.”
Chapter Three: Unexpected Allies
The instant I reentered the mansion, one of the house servants grabbed my leash and escorted me to the bath. They removed my restraints and set to scrubbing me, but as much I normally enjoyed the cleansing soaps and hot water on my skin, this time my mind refused to settle. All I could think about was Larric and the choice I’d made to bring him here.
Had it all been a horrible mistake? Should I have taken my chances with my own limited healing magic and tried to nurse him back to health? Should I have tried to find another way to contact the Faedari?
They were all meaningless questions at this point, of course. The reality was that we were back here in Sanctum, and for better worse we were going to have to live with my decision. I just needed to find a way to speak with him when he awakened. I needed to warn him that Kristoff knew about his relationship with the vaeyn...
After the servants gave a long bath and extensive preening, the house tailor and quasi-mistress, Sharela, appeared to fit me into a simple gown. If she was at all pleased that I’d returned, she certainly didn’t show it. She was as curt and callous as ever. Once I was dressed, she led me back to my bedchambers and practically shoved me inside. She locked the door behind me, and I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath—
“Hello. You must be Elara.”
I must have hopped an entire foot off the ground. Another faeyn woman was sitting at the desk on the right-hand side of the room. When I gasped in surprise, she immediately leapt to her feet and waved her hands apologetically.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she stammered. “I-I didn’t meant to startle you.”
“It’s all right,” I soothed, clutching at my chest. “I, uh…I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here.”
“Gods, I should have known. Master probably didn’t have a chance to tell you.” She smiled pleasantly and lowered her head. “My name is Astanya. I’m so happy to finally meet you.”
I reflexively smiled back. “What, um…” I paused and studied the room. The small office and library on the right seemed undisturbed, but she had clearly been using the living space on the left for several days. The linens had been changed, and some new clothes were hanging inside the armoire. “What are you doing here?”
“Master purchased me at auction two weeks ago,” Astanya explained, her voice filled with unmistakable pride. “He said you might need a bit of time to adjust. I can’t believe a Grand Duke had only one avenari serving him. You must be very skilled.”
I blinked in confusion. Master Kristoff owned many other slaves, of course, but most of them were laborers or soldiers. The thought of him purchasing another avenari…I had never even considered the possibility until this moment.
“I’ve been fortunate,” I murmured. “Times have been difficult since we fled Stormcrest.”
“I can’t even imagine. All those horrible savages climbing over the walls…”
I nodded absently and tried to pull myself together. So far, returning home hadn’t been anything like I’d expected. It seemed impossible that so much had changed in such a short period of time…
“You must be exhausted from your trip,” Astanya said into the pause. “Master said he sent you to Skyfall to entertain Grand Duke Darkstone.”
“He did, yes.”
“What was it like? I’ve heard so much about the Vale, but until recently I’d never left Rivani.”
“It was…intense,” I managed. “So much has happened I’m still trying to sort everything out.”
“I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to overwhelm you,” Astanya apologized. “There’s a pot of tea on the fire. Would you like some?”
I pursed my lips and glanced around the room again. This must have been some kind of test. Master Kristoff couldn’t have possibly replaced me so soon. Whatever else I might have been to him, I was still his avenari. He’d never even implied that he might need another…
“No, thank you,” I said, forcing another smile. “I think I’ll just lie down for a while.”
“Of course, please. Master said he’d summon me soon anyway. You’ll have plenty of peace and quiet.”
Astanya smiled again and returned to the desk. I kept watching her even as I stumbled over to the bed. She was slightly shorter than me with shoulder-length, braided blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her silver-blue sari was decidedly Rivani in design, and judging from her tanned skin she’d spent a great deal of time outdoors. She was so pretty I had a hard time believing her former master would have wasted her on labor work, but stranger things had happened.
All in all, none of her traits were particularly rare or shocking…except for the fact there was no tattoo on her bare navel. Like me, she was still ripe…which meant she should have been worth a fortune.
A fortune Master Kristoff no longer possessed.
“I still can’t get over how much space he gives us,” Astanya said once she sat back down at the desk. “And all these books! I don’t know why he’d waste them in the slave’s quarters.”
I shifted my eyes to the desk. She had opened a single book, the Elmare Nostra, an incredibly long and detailed history of the “Rebirth” following the Godswar well over two thousand years ago. According to Master Kristoff, it was widely considered a seminal tome among modern historians. This particular copy hadn’t even been translated—it was written in faeyn.
“You can read our tongue?” I asked, not bothering to hide my surprise.
“Oh…no,” Astanya replied sheepishly. Her cheeks flushed slightly. “But I enjoy the illustrations. Old maps, people…I know it’s a bit silly.”
“I don’t think it’s silly at all,” I told her. “It’s one of my favorites. I believe Master has a translated copy here somewhere if you’d prefer.”
She turned and looked at me, confused. I was about to ask why when the truth belatedly hit me. Her problem wasn’t that she couldn’t read faeyn—she couldn’t read anything.
I almost slapped myself in the face. Of course she couldn’t read; I was one of very few faeyn in the Empire who’d been privileged enough to learn the Imperial tongue, let alone the language of my people. I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, I…” I took a deep breath and shook my head. “I wasn’t trying to—”
“It’s all right,” Astanya soothed. “I hope I serve him well enough that he’ll teach me one day.”
I sank down onto the bed as sudden welling of rage rose up inside me. I wasn’t sure why this of all things triggered it, given all the harsher injustices I’d just witnessed and endured in the Imperial camp on the way here. But for some reason looking upon this sweet woman—a woman who could have easily been me if not for the grace of the gods—made me want to go back in time and do everything I could to find the Faedari rebels. It made me want to burn down this whole bloody mansion and half of Sanctum along with it.
Astanya turned back to her book, and somewhere in her blue eyes I saw a reflection of myself. She was cheerful and eager-to-please. She had probably been delivered from a far worse master, and she was genuinely enthused to serve someone who treated her with a modicum of respect. She would spread her legs or swallow his seed or do anything else he asked, and afterwards she would gladly thank him for the privilege…
“Are you certain you’re all right?” she asked. “I didn’t upset you, did I?”
“No, not at all,” I assured her, forcing a smile. “I was just thinking…perhaps if I spoke to him, Master Kristoff would allow me to teach you.”
Astanya smiled at me again. It was incredibly infectious—I could see why Master Kristoff would want
her. The thought made me even angrier.
“I would enjoy that very much,” she said. “Though I’m not sure I’d be a good student…”
I started to respond, but before the words could escape my lips the door abruptly opened and one of the house guards burst inside. He tossed a quick glance at me, then turned and faced Astanya. “Master Kristoff wishes to see you now.”
“Of course,” she said, leaping to her feet and straightening her sari. Before she left, she flashed me one last smile. “It was wonderful meeting you, Elara. I’ll see you in the morning.”
The guard shut the door behind her, and I was finally alone. I closed my eyes and tried to let the anger seep out of me, but it didn’t work. All I could imagine was Astanya kneeling before Master Kristoff. Just a few months ago, the thought would have filled me jealousy—and he undoubtedly assumed it still would. But right now it just made my rage simmer into a boil.
The hours passed slowly, though by the time the clock struck midnight I’d finally allowed my body to melt into the pillows and relax. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized just how much I had missed my own bed—or any bed, for that matter. Torelius had mostly forced me to sleep on the hard ground, sometimes without any blankets…
Once I was certain Astanya wouldn’t be returning for the evening, I slid of the bed and approached the door. The guard had locked it again, and short of setting the wood aflame I had no means of opening it myself. But when I closed my eyes and stretched out with the Aether, I could sense another guard outside perhaps thirty feet away down the corridor.
I knew that trying to manipulate him would be dangerous. After today, I couldn’t even imagine how Master Kristoff would react if he caught me. But I also knew that I had to warn Larric about what was going on, otherwise all the rest of our secrets were in jeopardy. So rather than lie back down and hope for the best, I banged my fist against the wood.
“Please, I need help. Is someone out there?”
The guard, apparently half-asleep judging from his abrupt emotional shift, quickly raced over. “What’s going on?”
“I fell and cut myself,” I lied. “Please, I-I need to see one of the healers.”
I heard him swear under his breath and mutter several slurs against elves as he fiddled for his keys. Once the door opened, he leaned his head inside and frowned at me. “What the hell are you—?”
Before he could move away, I reached out and touched his cheek. His mind was weak and easy to pierce; within a few short seconds I had all but taken control of his entire body. Wiping his memories of the past few seconds was just as trivial.
If anyone asks, I’m asleep in my chambers, I told him. Now return to your post and await my return.
He half-nodded, half-blubbered a reply, and once he’d returned to his perch by the wall I shut and locked the door. Now I just needed to reach Larric and pray to whatever gods were listening that I could find a way to wake him…
Swallowing heavily, I turned and flit across the estate in my bare feet. With the aid of the Aether, I had no trouble avoiding the rest of the house guards or the few servants who were still awake. I avoided the temptation to try and touch Master Kristoff’s mind just in case he sensed my intrusion and realized what I was doing. Instead I headed straight down into the basement where he practiced his channeling techniques…and just as I suspected, Larric’s body was there waiting for me.
I plucked the only lit glowstone from the wall and approached. He looked roughly the same as he had for the past several days—pale, gaunt, and generally sickly. Judging from the various empty tinctures along the wall, the local apothecaries had tried waking him to no avail. I wondered how long Master Kristoff would bother keeping this up. The instant he stopped using healing magic, Larric would dehydrate and eventually starve...
That’s why you’re going to wake him now, I told myself. He saved your life more than once. It’s time to return the favor.
I set the glowstone down next to him and placed my right hand upon his bare chest. I knew almost nothing about healing magic—Master Kristoff had only taught me the very basics. But no one had taught me anything about conjuring fire, either, and I’d figured that out on my own. Perhaps if I was desperate enough, perhaps if I wanted it enough, the secrets of the Aether would just come to me…
After the first few minutes of trying, my hopes began to fade. After several minutes more, it was gone entirely. I could stand here by Larric’s side all night and not accomplish anything, and I scolded myself for even making the attempt. The tears flowed so easily I couldn’t stop them if I tried. So I didn’t.
It wasn’t until much later, long after my eyes had dried and I’d finally stopped whimpering, that I realized I was approaching this the wrong way. If the Imperial healers hadn’t been able to wake him, then an untrained channeler like myself didn’t have a prayer in the Void. But there was another option. Maybe it wasn’t his body that required healing—maybe it was his mind.
Closing my eyes, I slid my hand from his chest up to his clammy forehead. I knew from experience that he had one of the most disciplined minds I’d ever touched, almost certainly as a side-effect from his training as a Covenant Inquisitor. I also knew that many of his mental barriers remained intact even while he was unconscious, as I’d learned when I’d tried to communicate with him following our battle outside Lakewatch. But now, weeks later, the vast majority of them had finally begun to erode…and after spending a few minutes pushing against them, they collapsed entirely.
Larric, I called out. Larric, it’s me. Please, I need you. Wake up!
I couldn’t hear his voice or communicate with him directly, but I could sense…something. His consciousness was there, buried beneath a mental fog so thick I could scarcely feel anything on the other side. I pushed harder, deeper, until his mental dam suddenly burst. A flood of images and memories washed over me so quickly I couldn’t breathe…
But it was all there. He was all there, bared naked before me. I could feel his hopes and fears. I could feel his pleasure and pain. I could feel his love for the people of the Empire despite their flaws. I could feel his love for Karethys despite the fact they’d been kept apart. I could feel his passion for the Faedari cause and his fears that he would fail them.
Along with his fears that he would fail me.
I balked at the realization and nearly lost my connection entirely. But when I dove in deeper, I could see how much he cared. A terrible guilt had been gnawing at him ever since Master Kristoff had bought me at market. He had wanted to free me, but he knew he couldn’t. He had to maintain his cover as a Faedari agent in the hopes he could learn vital intelligence about Kristoff and the rest of the Imperial Court.
It wasn’t until he’d learned I was Unbound that everything had changed. He’d acted like he hated me, but in truth he was just testing me…and myself. He hadn’t known what to do until the events at Skyfall had forced his hand…
Larric, I repeated, reaching as deep as I could into his subconscious mind. Larric, please wake up. WAKE UP!
His body twitched so violently it actually knocked me backwards. I had to blink several times before my eyes refocused on reality, almost like I had just awakened from a deep dream too..
“Elara…”
I smiled and leaned forward as he attempted to sit up. Some of the color had returned to his face, though he still looked incredibly weak. “It’s all right,” I soothed. “We’re safe. Just stay still.”
His eyes darted about the room, and I could tell he was having trouble figuring out where we were. He’d smacked the glowstone off the stretcher, and without it his human vision was practically worthless.
“We’re in Sanctum,” I said, retrieving the stone. “We’re back in Kristoff’s estate.”
“What?” he gasped, bolting upright. “Why would you—?”
“Please, don’t move,” I implored him. I placed my hand on his sternum and tried to push him back down. “You’ve been unconscious for almost three weeks. Do you recall
what happened?”
A dozen different expressions flickered across his face before he finally swallowed and let out a deep breath. “Yes. We were outside Lakewatch and we were attacked.”
“A Covenant Inquisitor found us. He killed the Faedari and nearly killed you. I barely managed to get you on the raft and escape.”
Larric blinked in disbelief. “What?”
“It will be easier to show you,” I said, offering him my hand.
He stared at me blankly for a moment, and I could tell he was desperately trying to come to grips with reality. But eventually he nodded and took my hand…at which point I pushed back into his mind and showed him everything that had happened since—the ambush, my counterattack, our trip down the river and back to Sanctum. In the span of a few heartbeats, I shared several weeks’ worth of memories…and by the time I had finished, all he could do was swear under his breath.
“Merciful Triad…”
“I know it’s not what you wanted, but I didn’t know what else to do,” I whispered apologetically. “You were dying, and the Imperials were the only ones who could help you.”
He slumped back on the bed, and his eyes lost focus as they stared up at the ceiling. I stood quietly at his side while he tried to process what I’d shown him. Had our positions been reversed, I probably would have sat there for an hour trying to fit everything together. But if I’d learned anything about Larric these past few months, it was that he was capable of handling anything, especially the unexpected.
“You should have left me and searched for other Faedari,” he said after a moment. “They had a camp nearby—they would have found you eventually.”
I shook my head. “I couldn’t just let you die.”
Larric sighed and closed his eyes. “Of course you could. You don’t owe me anything, Elara.”
“I owe you everything. You’ve saved my life time and again.”
“After allowing Kristoff to ruin it. You should have saved yourself.”
