The Sorcerer's Concubine (The Telepath and the Sorcerer Book 1)

by Jaclyn Dolamore

  “But the band could be removed?”

  “Of course, if you trust her you can certainly remove it. You’ll get the key when you buy her.”

  Velsa’s tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. She suddenly realized her mouth was slightly open. She must have had a very startled, stupid expression.

  “Can I spend a little time alone with her?” he asked. His tone was low and the rain hammering the roof made everything within the walls seem especially quiet.

  “Yes, certainly!” Dalarsha sounded faintly excited. “I must chaperone you, but you can inspect her apart from the other girls, certainly.”

  He nodded. “I’d like to speak to her, then.”

  Her first inspection. Her first. Maybe her last.

  Dalarsha’s eyes were bright with the prospect of a potential sale. “Come, then, Velsa.”

  “Velsa,” he said, his faint accent relishing the “l” for a moment.

  Would he ask her to strip naked? Fanarlem girls never had to be naked; they never had to bathe. She wasn’t used to the sight of her own skin, much less under a stranger’s gaze.

  Velsa forced her feet to move.

  “It is a lovely name, isn’t it?” Dalarsha agreed. Velsa knew Dalarsha was not just pleased because she might have money in her pocket on a cold, rainy night, but because she liked Velsa and would surely feel this man might make a good master. Still, it was strange to hear Dalarsha sounding happy to see her go.

  Every part of this seemed so strange, even though she was supposed to be prepared.

  Dalarsha let them all into the small private room. She offered the man a chair in one corner of the room and indicated for Velsa to stand in the center of the rug.

  “Please let me know what you need to see, rather than touching her yourself,” Dalarsha said firmly.

  Velsa was shivering.

  “I think I can see enough from here,” he said. “I’ll take your word for it about the rest.”

  Dalarsha laughed and removed herself to the other corner of the room. The man was still standing.

  “My name is Grau,” he said.

  “Grau.” She repeated it, unable to say anything more. She was so high-strung right now, so hopeful and terrified all at once.

  “In a couple of months I’ll be heading north to the border to join the patrol. I would take you with me. I’m not sure where I’ll go from there. I travel a lot, and I don’t know when I’ll settle. The conditions might be rough at times.”

  Dalarsha interrupted, “I’m sure you’re aware that our girls are perfect for such conditions. She will not need food, drink, or baths, and she will not be prone to discomfort. Although I do caution against getting her too wet. It tends to put stuffing out of shape. There is occasional maintenance, of course, but she should be all right for months at a time if you aren’t too rough with her. For practical reasons I would really not advise pulling her hair.”

  “Uh, no,” he said, looking as if he might also prefer if she stopped talking. Then he looked at Velsa again. “You would see a lot of the country. I have no intention of marrying—no Daramon girl would put up with this life—so you would be my only girl.”

  She had seen more handsome men. A Daramon men wealthy enough to afford a Fanarlem concubine was also wealthy enough for shape-shifting, but she didn’t think his face had ever been shape-shifted. He looked like he squinted into the sun a lot; if he cared for fashion he would have wanted his eyes to seem larger. Nor did he sound like the wealthiest man she would meet. But there was something earnest in his manner that made her hope and pray that he would value her companionship.

  At least she wouldn’t be locked away as someone’s prisoner. “I would like to go, sir,” she said. “Very much.”

  He looked at her face so carefully that she felt a shudder down her spine, because she was sure that look meant he would say yes. Or he would say no. He would say something and she was equally terrified of each option.

  He drew back and nodded decisively. “I will take her.”

  “Oh, wonderful, sir. Very good choice. You won’t regret it for a moment. Velsa is a personal favorite of mine. I thought, from the moment I saw you, that she might be a good choice for you.”

  What a lie, Velsa thought. She showed me to him last! Unless that was a tactic. The best for last. She hated to believe the worst of Dalarsha, even now. Dalarsha was the closest thing she had to a parent.

  He took out a money purse. “Two hundred and twenty ilan, is it?”

  “That’s right.”

  He poured out the contents of the bag. Her price, already counted. He gave the money to Dalarsha.

  She took a small bag from a nearby cabinet and handed it to him. “There are some things to go with her, for minor repairs, some oils and whatnot…” She fished out a small gold wand, the size of a pen. “And this is the key to her golden band. She is yours now.”

  Dalarsha came over to Velsa and embraced her. “I’m so glad, my dear. I think you’ve found a good home.”

  “Do you have anyone to say goodbye to? Anything of your own to take with you?” Grau asked.

  “She does not,” Dalarsha said. “All she needs is you, sir.”

  Of course she owned things, had friends to bid goodbye. Of course.

  But Dalarsha and their other teachers said they couldn’t take anything. She had to pretend she was newly born in this moment.

  He was looking at her, and his brow furrowed. “Surely she could take a memento. I’ll pay for it.”

  He seemed to think that Dalarsha was forbidding her from taking anything from the House, when in fact the rule was for his benefit.

  Dalarsha looked even happier. “You are too kind, sir. Velsa…if you would like to take something from your room, it sounds as if Mr. Thanneau won’t mind.”

  “Of course I don’t mind,” he said. “I’ve got this much space in my bag.” He framed a shape with his hands. “It’s all right if you want to take some time to say goodbye to your friends.”

  She rushed from the room, almost tripping on her own feet. Fanarlem were by nature a little clumsy anyway, and she was so startled she didn’t so much walk down the hall as flail, veering toward the wall. The other girls were gathered nearby and they erupted with questions when they saw her.

  “He said no?”

  “What happened?”

  “He bought me,” Velsa said. “He told me to bring something with me and—and say goodbye.”

  Pia gasped. “Oh, he’s very good then!”

  “You lucky girl!” Nraya cried.

  They were all grabbing her, hugging her, tugging on her hair to hassle her for such good fortune—Dalarsha would not approve. She was sobbing on the inside, but on the outside she was completely quiet. Relief mingled with a despair that threatened to overwhelm her.

  She went down the dim halls in the back of the House to her room. The only light here at this time was normally the moon, and due to the rain, she had to fumble around the beds to the shelf where the girls kept their few possessions. She found her precious wooden box and clutched it against her. She should be happy he was allowing her to take the one thing that really felt like hers, but right now it felt stupid. No better than bringing toys.

  Even if he was kind enough, she was aware of a cold fact. She didn’t want to belong to any man who was willing to take a pile of valuable coins down to a place like this, on a night like this, and buy a woman for his own pleasure.

  Chapter 3

  Dalarsha wrapped her in a wool cloak and exchanged her slippers for sturdy boots. The door opened to the cold, wet darkness. Grau had a hand wrapped lightly around her shoulders, steering her toward a horse standing under the edge of the roof.

  The door shut behind her.

  This was her life now.

  The horse was untethered. She wondered if the saddle was enchanted to keep the horse in place and deter thieves. She had heard of this but it seemed like expensive magic. At least he was not too poor, then. Some men scrimped and sav
ed for a Fanarlem girl but had little else to offer.

  “I can pack that away,” he said, offering a hand to take her box.

  “Thank you.”

  “Wow, that’s heavy. What’s in here?” He opened the box, without asking. Revealing all of her rocks and nut husks and other odds and ends. “What are these?” he asked.

  “Nothing, sir.”

  He looked at her uncertainly and shut the box again. Her heart sank. Maybe he expected her to have a more romantic possession. Maybe he didn’t want to carry a box of rocks.

  “The rain is very loud,” he said. “Can I lift you onto the horse?”

  “Yes,” she said, relieved that at least he had not left the box behind.

  He put his hands around her waist to lift her up.

  “Oof,” he said. “You’re heavy too.” Although he had no trouble putting her up on the saddle.

  “Am I?” She had always felt fairly insubstantial.

  “I guess you weigh a little less than a flesh and blood woman. Maybe. It’s not a bad thing, though. Wouldn’t want to lose you in a strong wind.” He swung up behind her. He took the reins, his arms close around her. His body was warm against her back. Often she was disturbed by the warmth of men, but on a night like this, it wasn’t so unwelcome. She couldn’t get cold the way real people did, but cold weather still didn’t feel good, especially wet cold like this. She could feel the damp in her wooden bones.

  He took a white stone from his pocket and tapped it twice. It brightened like a lantern, and he held it up to cast the way ahead, but barely. They moved slowly down the streets, pelted by rain. Her hooded cloak protected her, but he also kept his head tipped forward over hers. She was deeply conscious of how his body pressed around her, the muscles of his thighs, the size of him. Fanarlem girls were all made the same, five feet tall, so their parts could be easily changed without worrying over size. Besides that, they became clumsier the larger their bodies were made. Grau was perhaps six feet, not unusually tall, but she had never been this close to a man—as close as an embrace. Very different from perching reluctantly on a man’s knee.

  She wasn’t sure how long they traveled down the liquid shadows of those wet streets. She was so aware of him near her and so uncertain of what might come next, time seemed a tricky concept. They went far enough to leave the seedy district of the House of Perfumed Ribbons well behind them, now traveling on a tree-lined avenue near the river where wealthy merchants must live in the elegant stone houses. The river wove its way across the land to the port of Atlantis in the south, all the way to the Miralem lands in the north. Sometimes people called it the River of Money.

  He stopped in front of a small but cozy-looking inn, two stories with a balcony and a tiled roof, where candles glowed in windows. A boy walked out from the stables into the rain to take the horse. He looked at Velsa.

  “Success, huh?” he asked.

  “I’d say so,” Grau replied.

  Grau removed her box and some papers from his bag. Then he lifted her down and showed her to the steps, fishing out a key as he climbed.

  The room was small but they had it to themselves. There was a single large bed on a low frame. Seeing it twisted her insides. Also, a lounging bench with cushions, a writing desk, a fireplace. Grau put her box on the bed, took off his coat and hung it on a peg. He offered a hand to take her cloak.

  “You aren’t wet, are you?” he asked.

  “No, sir.”

  “Please, call me Grau,” he said.

  “All right…”

  He shivered, ruffling his black hair, which was soaking wet as he didn’t have a hood. “I’ll get the fire going. Have a seat.”

  She watched him move the logs around and stuff some paper beneath them. He put his hand close to the logs, blew out a quick jet of breath, and a flame sprouted.

  Magic. Just small magic, but magic all the same. She had never seen anyone work sorcery right before her eyes.

  Once he was satisfied that the fire would burn steadily, he sat beside her with her box on his lap. “Where did you get these?” he asked.

  Fates, how she was shaking! “Once a year…” She could hardly get her voice to go above a whisper. “…when the city is hot in the dead of summer and the mosquitos are out, so no one is coming to the House, we go to the mountains for a week. I always pick up interesting things I see, to remind me what it’s like out in the forest.”

  “I would love to look at them closer.”

  “Of—of course.”

  He opened the box and at first, he just looked at all the contents long and hard without touching anything. Then, slowly, he held his hand over the box, as if he was sensing something inside. He picked up one of the rocks and turned it over. “A fossil,” he said, noticing the imprint of a shell inside the rock. “You have a good eye.”

  “Is that what you call it?”

  “It’s a remnant from a time when the mountains were an ocean,” he said. “A long time ago.”

  “How?” She briefly shed her fear enough to question. She had always wondered how a shell could have ever been atop a mountain.

  “No one knows,” he said. “But sorcerers who study these things report sensing the energy of ocean creatures in the mountains, and of course, we find things like this. Maybe ancient sorcerers moved the land around.”

  He took a little glass out and squinted into it.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “A magnifier. Here, take a look.”

  The magnifier made the shell seem almost like the surface of another world. “Why do you carry that around?” she asked.

  “For just this reason. Looking at things. Sorcerers use things in the natural world to create spells, but so much of it remains a mystery. The best way to find a new spell is to study how nature works. How all the components of our world fit together and work in harmony. Sometimes, if you apply those same combinations and processes to spell-work, you’ll get something new and wonderful.”

  “So you’re a sorcerer?”

  “I won’t really feel like a sorcerer until I discover a spell of my own.”

  “I didn’t realize sorcerers had to discover a spell.”

  “They don’t, but…it’s the best way to make a name for yourself. Either way, I can’t pursue sorcery as a profession until I improve my potion-making skills. That’s where the money is.”

  “But for now, you’ll be joining the military?”

  “Just the border patrol, for six months. I have three older brothers, and we’ve all been working for my father, but being the youngest I have the dregs of the inheritance. I need to do something with myself besides overseeing our shipments. This will get me out into the world.”

  The fire was crackling and burning now, giving the room a warm glow. “And you bought me to accompany you during your military service? Is that common?”

  “My father was a soldier once. He said if I was going into the border patrol, all the other men on the patrol would surely be seeking female company in town, and I might be tempted to join them,” he said. “But it’s perilous nowadays. Miralem women can sneak in over the border and use their telepathy to steal everything a man’s got. There are reports of men waking up from a stupor with their eyes cut out, and worse.”

  Even in her sheltered life, Velsa heard plenty of talk about the Miralem people who lived in the northern regions. They were all born with telepathy, and the more talented among them could read and control minds.

  “I suppose it’s their contribution to the war effort,” Grau continued.

  “War? We aren’t at war, are we?”

  “We could be, any minute. It’s all anyone talks about at home.” He shrugged. “So this was all his idea. You, I mean. I really don’t know that I’d visit brothels, but then, I also don’t know how long I’ll be traveling around. It could be years and years. It does get lonely.” He regarded her, his expression turning more serious. “I’ve always been told that Fanarlem don’t have emotions like real people do
, but it isn’t true, is it? The way you look at me…”

  “Of course we have emotions,” Velsa said, offended. “All the girls do.”

  “It’s making me feel a little uncomfortable that I bought you.”

  “I’ve heard people say that about us…” Velsa plucked at the hem of her sleeve. “Some men don’t like to buy such well-made Fanarlem with education. Too much like a real girl…but, I am still a Fanarlem.”

  At this point, Velsa knew, she should assure him that she was happy to do anything he asked of her, that she was his willing servant because it would cleanse her tainted soul. But some rebellious part of her never liked to voice those sentiments, and she even now she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  “I understand that your karma is improved by obedience,” he said. “But I think I’d have a hard time asking you to do something you didn’t want to do.”

  She glanced at him. She feared it almost came across as a glare, and looked at her hands again. “I would be happy to do anything you ask,” she said softly.

  He shifted a little closer to her. “You really are astonishing magic,” he said. “When you consider that we ever figured out how to host a living soul inside a shell of wood and cloth, and make it so you can speak and move… You are so much more luminous than the sum of your parts.”

  She had been prepared for this her whole life, in the sense that she was told it was coming. She was told what men would want to do to her and what they would want her to do to them, what she should say and not say. But he was entirely new to her. Every thought had left her head, except his body so near her, the soft brown of his eyes with the gleam of the fire in them, the ghost of stubble on his chin.

  “Magic I could hold in my arms,” he said. “That’s what I imagined. I can sense the spells woven through you. Can you sense them?”

  “Can I sense them?” She hadn’t expected that question. “No.”

  “You could, with some training,” he said. “It’s very interesting. I’ve never sensed so many layers of magic at once.”