by Paul Heisel
Owori emerged after walking through the forest, discovering she was near the shore of a lake. There were flat gentle waves and the blue water was fresh. The shoreline was thin and rocky, with portions adorned by fine white sand. The water was serene. It was inviting, but she didn’t want to swim – perhaps she would if it would get her off this island or if it would wash off her tattoos. There was no way off this cursed place, she was sure of that, and she saw nothing in the distance that hinted of another shoreline being near. Owori climbed on top of a large jagged boulder and stood there overlooking the lake. Her reflection in the water showed a person she didn’t know. She sat down. Although her view up and down the shoreline of the lake was breathtaking, she was in no mood to enjoy it. She meditated, letting magic fill her, and it settled her nerves. What was she going to do?
#
“This is one of my favorite spots on the island,” Pearl said. “It’s interesting that you found my rock. Fate perhaps?”
Owori heard Pearl approach, but didn’t move to greet her, nor did she say anything. The underlying anger wouldn’t go away, nor would the sudden pang of loss – she would never be the same. Her stomach rumbled and she had thirst, and the pounding in her head didn’t make matters better.
“If you’re wondering, your head hair and eyebrows will grow back. The marking process requires removal of all hair from your body. We all went through it.”
Owori looked over the water, imagining a boat coming to her rescue. That was what she needed, a boat or a way to get back to Bora. The time sitting here, reflecting, had softened her mood as memories of what had happened back in Bora came to the surface. It was better for her to be away from the monastery, so maybe being here wasn’t such a bad idea – other than the tattoos. She still lacked the understanding of why this was happening. What had happened back in Bora was fresher in her mind now, causing further dread. Kara was the culprit in leading the conspiracy, not Jerr. She felt terrible. Jerr had been loyal to the Accord of the Hand. They used her to harm him, intentional or not, and now she was confused because Pearl had taken her away to safety. Pearl was part of this conspiracy, right? Wasn’t she?
“We need to talk as you suggested,” Owori said. “I want straight, honest answers. I'm in no mood for prattle.”
Pearl climbed on the rock and sat next to Owori, close enough so their shoulders touched and their crossed legs were touching at the knees.
“I’m baffled by all of this. Explain why I’m on an island with these damn dragon tattoos on my body.”
“We’re known as Furies,” Pearl said. “In Pyndira, we serve the ruling families with our magic. Our history is long and troubled, but it is a story for another time that you will learn. We’re among those who have power and influence in Pyndira. We are advisors, generals, and protectors of the different families. It has been this way for many hundreds of years. I brought you here because you’re a Fury, only you don’t remember living on Pyndira when you were a small child, you only remember Malurrion. Your parents must have taken you from here to Malurrion. That is the only logical explanation I can come up with. Now that you’ve been marked, you’ll have the opportunity to go to one of the families and serve them. Don’t worry, your life won’t be cruel or meaningless, in fact your life will be better than living at one of the Hand’s monasteries. Furies are an important part of our society. They are respected and feared.”
“What about my choice?” Owori pointed to her hand, the red dragon tail bright and exposed.
“There is no choice for the tattoos. If you’re a Fury, you must be marked. It’s the law.”
“Why?”
“Pyndira is a world filled with magical creatures; human, animal, and spiritual. It’s rare to find a Fury, a person who has inherent magic, among the millions who live in Pyndira. The magic, when not tempered, is dangerous. To keep balance and order, all Furies must be identified.”
“Why? This makes no sense to me!”
Pearl paused. “If we weren’t identified, we could do as we please and cause chaos, be destructive in secret. We could get our hands on a Favored One belt, that’s an example of why we must be marked. With one of these belts and no tattoos to exhibit control, a Fury would be powerful. The tattoos make sure we can’t use the belts, and it makes sure the families can have a measure of control. That’s the third reason for the tattoos, which we spoke about but I didn’t elaborate. Control.”
“I can be controlled like a puppet?”
“No, not like that,” Pearl said. She rubbed Owori’s leg and patted it. “Control maybe isn’t the correct word. It allows the Fury to be bound to a family, so that they won’t turn on their masters. Once you’re in the service of a family, a Favored One, or a Most Favored, you will always be in their service. You will always be loyal. I can’t explain how it works, but it does. The magic – it binds you.”
“Then who do you serve?”
At this Pearl laughed. “No one. I was to be bound to a Favored One, but instead I chose to hide in Malurrion and help other Furies. To hide our numbers from the Emperor, we have diverted Furies to Malurrion. From there, I have been training them within the Accord of the Hand. Only the ones who have mastered the magic come back to Pyndira to join a family, the others stay and train. They are safer there.”
“Then I could go back.”
“After what happened? You can’t go back. You’d be killed before you had the chance to flee. Perhaps over time, when things have settled down, you could go back and sneak out of Bora.”
“My understanding of this is limited,” Owori said. “You say Furies are rare, yet you’ve gathered hundreds of them in Bora. And they seem to have a choice of where they go and what they do.”
“There are millions of people in Pyndira. Two hundred Furies out of millions – that is rare in my estimation.”
“Why didn’t you go to a family? You had a choice, why don’t I have the same choice?”
Pearl looked away, gazing across the lake. “You’re right, I did have a choice. Had Paq not agreed to let me go to Malurrion, I would be in the service of the Ku family. They’re in the province of Emesia, distant from here. I didn’t want to go, so Paq hid me. Then I figured out how to go to Malurrion and I found an old picture of the Bora monastery and used magic to transport there. Then I got an idea, why not take Furies to Malurrion and train them, away from the Emperor’s eyes? I made a deal with Paq’s family to do this in exchange for my independence. Every so often families will put in an order for Furies, and I’ll help Paq select candidates – willing candidates – to fill the order.”
“I need to talk to Paq.”
Pearl laughed and smiled. “He only did it for me because he thinks he loves me. Though he’s a good person, I would prefer a more commanding man. A man of station. A man who’ll respect me because I’m not only his woman, but because I’m a Fury.”
Owori suddenly thought of Feln. She could see Pearl pouncing on him, laughing and smiling in the most playful of manners. It didn’t make her any happier. This was ridiculous! What, she was jealous of her lost love and Pearl? She was losing her mind, this was crazy!
“I’m content to be alone for now,” Pearl said. “My work consumes me, and companionship doesn’t figure into it. One day I’ll find a man who is…interesting.”
“What happens now? To me? To you? When can I talk to Paq?”
“A family will want you to serve them, unless you don’t want to serve – then you can stay here on the island. As I alluded to, Paq tries to match their needs with a Fury, so they get the maximum benefit. A family representative comes in secret to the island, they find the Fury, and Paq arranges travel. Few living souls know the location of this island. It has been kept secret for a thousand years, if not longer. Those who know the location don’t speak of it.”
“I don’t want to go with any family. I can tell you that right now.”
“Then you’ll remain on the island, live here with the other Furies who don’t want to serve or can
’t serve. Most of them live normal lives. But they can never leave the island.”
“A prisoner then?”
“The law is that Furies aren’t allowed to be without a family. They aren’t allowed to roam Pyndira, independent, alone and without a master. It’s the law. In time, you’ll understand why there are such laws. The only exception that I know of is Salt Island. And it won't be forever, I'll find a way, if you wish, to get you safely back to Malurrion and away from Bora.”
The prospect of being on the island forever didn’t appeal to Owori, nor did being in a family’s service. Pearl was telling the truth, but it was the sugary sweet truth. It sounded like the families bought the Furies – they were cattle – only these slaves had the power to destroy. Then they did the family’s bidding. Kill this. Kill that. Protect this. No wonder Pearl chose to go to Malurrion. Maybe she could go back in a few months – a year at the most? Could she go to Sabrin and help the Grand Master? Her spirits dipped as the similarities registered. The Accord of the Hand was no different from being in the service of a family, was it not? She did their bidding, spying, fighting, and killing. How was this any different?
“What of you?” Owori asked.
“I’ll return to Malurrion to train the Furies. I’ll be back from time to time to check on you. But tell me, what happened?”
Owori relayed the tale, noting part way through it Pearl became uncomfortable. It was as if Pearl’s worst nightmare was coming true. When Owori finished telling Pearl that she suspected Kara was orchestrating the unrest and that Jerr was just trying to flush out the traitor, Pearl jumped down from the rock and walked toward the temple. Owori followed.
“I must return to Bora immediately,” Pearl said.
“And do what? You can't leave me here!”
“I only care about the Grand Master and the Accord of the Hand because they help my Furies. At this point Kara must be…managed.”
“What do you plan to do? I can help! Take me with you!”
“It isn’t safe for you to return, and it won’t be safe for months I'm afraid,” Pearl said. “We had a meeting yesterday and the word is out – they suspect that you murdered Jerr. His Furies are looking for you so you can be questioned. Kara has mounted an investigation, though now I see it is a false one to cover up her own intentions. I’ll need to keep an eye on her, but I don’t know who is loyal to her. I may have to let her plan unfold so I can identify who is who.”
Owori's anger swelled. She was angry with Kara and Pearl. “What am I to do then?”
“I’ll speak with Paq. You’ll be safe here in his care until I return. And I will return – I promise.”
“What if you don’t?”
“Trust me, I will return. Let’s eat, then I must get back to Malurrion to fix this mess.”
Chapter 4 - Refused
At the temple, servants greeted Owori and Pearl and showed them inside. By this time, Owori realized she was famished and in desperate need of nourishment. Owori ate with Pearl in a private room, forgoing one of the common areas where the other Furies ate. She didn’t feel like being social, nor did she feel like interacting on any level with the other Furies. They knew more than she did, would ask questions and figure out she wasn’t from Pyndira. Avoidance was the best course of action for now. She was still angry with Pearl, and it would take time for her to forgive her for doing this, no matter what good reasons she gave. Shades, she was covered with red ink from head to waist!
“I'm still upset with you,” Owori said. “How could you do this to me?”
“I had to. You're asking me to justify your marks. I saved your life whether you understand it or not.”
It was one of the first times she had seen Pearl flustered. “I'm still mad.”
“Good, then you'll remember what it feels like to be alive.”
Moments passed, the silence between them uncomfortable.
“This place is familiar to me,” Owori said. “I have the distinct impression that I’ve been here before.”
Pearl looked up from her plate of food. She was eating freshwater shrimp, brown rice, fresh mint, and wild onion sprigs wrapped in a translucent rice paper. “I spoke with Paq when I got back and he spilled his guts. You were here when you were a small child. They remember you, and your parents came here to take you away. It was a violent struggle to leave the island. Lives were changed. Paq’s grandfather lost his legs and an eye in the attack. Your parents did that to him.”
She didn’t know what to say in response. The time spent here was vague and unaccounted for in her mind. Maybe she blocked the trauma out, or perhaps she didn’t want to remember or simply couldn't remember. Her parents died when she was only five, and that tragedy had made her a ward of the Waskhal monastery. Her memories were cloudy, and she couldn’t remember much of her parents any longer. She thought, as well, this wasn’t the time to begin making those enquiries though she desperately wanted to. At least she confirmed her parents had been here. Maybe Paq’s family knew more about her mother and father and could fill in the missing gaps. Perhaps they knew of her family and where her relatives might be. Aunts? Uncles? Cousins? Grandparents? That made her smile.
“It’s best left for another time,” Pearl said, reading her thoughts. “No good will come from the questions you want to ask. It will open old wounds for Paq’s family.” She finished one of her shrimp rolls and washed it down with a crisp, pale ale. “I need to go back to Bora. I’ve delayed long enough. You understand that I must go.”
“Get back here soon.”
“You are much calmer now, but I know you are still mad at me. One day I hope you will see that I did what I thought was right.”
“The food has helped. It may take time for me to process all of this. I’ll wait for you to return, then we’ll figure out what to do.” Owori looked at her tattoos. “I can’t believe this. Maybe the overall shock hasn’t quite sunk in yet. Maybe it is better that you go back to Bora.”
“I understand you’re angry, but think about what I did and why I had to do it. If I hadn’t taken you away from Bora when I did, you would be dead.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to Paq before I leave and make sure he takes good care of you. If there’s anything you need just let him know.”
The two separated after lunch, Pearl went to find Paq, and Owori went outside into the lush garden. Owori stood there for a moment, letting the breeze run across her body. It was warming up as the day progressed. The soft wind felt good on her skin. She rolled up her sleeves and looked at the dragon tails, wondering if she would ever become accustomed to them. Would she accept this as her ultimate destiny? She didn’t know, but she was going to do everything in her power to keep from being sold into the service of a family. She would also find out about her parents. It was obvious to her they were from Pyndira, and Owori guessed they had fled to Malurrion so they could be free. This opened another angle for her to consider, perhaps there were more Furies who didn’t want to serve families and wanted to be free. Perhaps they would want to work together.
#
Days later she was back into a routine. The temple, a converted one truthfully, was more manor house than temple, and it had excellent facilities throughout. She trained and exercised with the other Furies, but kept them at a distance. They treated her with incredible respect, even the venerable men who had been on the island for decades revered her as a unique person. Later, she understood it was because of her dragon tattoos. Not only was a dragon rare, Paq had mentioned only two other Furies dragon marks, and it was unheard of to have two tattoos. The newness of her arrival wore off quickly, as did the attention, and Owori was happy to have fewer curious people trying to engage her in conversations. All she wanted was for Pearl to return and for them to figure out the next step.
A week went by, then two, and Owori was worried about Pearl. Yet there was no way she could go to Pearl – she didn’t know how to transport to Malurrion. There was a key to all of it, she was sure, but she didn’t know what the secr
et was. Was it the hand movements? Was it a different magic she had to invoke? What did a picture from Bora have to do with it? For now, she would have to wait until Pearl returned. Experimenting could bring about unwanted consequences, and she wasn’t willing to take that risk.
She struck up a casual friendship with Paq as the days blurred together, and she pushed herself in her training to the breaking point. The small amount of free time she did allow herself, she would take walks to the lakeshore. At times Paq would walk with her, and they would discuss various topics, though he was content to talk about art exclusively. He reminded her of artists she had known in Waskhal. Most of his time was spent doodling, drawing, or painting. His gallery was enormous, an entire wing of the temple was dedicated to his works, and he remarked to her that his father and grandfather didn’t share the same enthusiasm for pure art. To them what they did was a job, nothing more. Owori sensed he was unhappy with his situation on the island and that he longed for a different life. At times, she tried to draw more information out of him about his unhappiness, but he was aloof to it all, never elaborating. He didn’t let her get to know him better on a personal level either. She was a Fury that he talked to, not a pure friend that he could confide in. Two things were clear to her; he worshipped Pearl, and the sheltered life on the island was making him anxious for the rest of his life to begin. Those two things, in his mind, had to be intertwined.
