by H. D. Gordon
She had heard stories about girls who’d had unpleasant encounters with men, but such a thing had never happened to her, and she felt violated and angry and scared.
Suddenly very scared.
“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I’ma tell you why I was sad. I was sad because I was just a boy and already I knew I’d never have a chance of gettin’ to run my hands through that pretty lavender hair of yours.” His fingers left her hair and traveled slowly down her arm. “Or touch that perfect skin.”
His lips went back to her ear, and she could feel the nasty wetness of them there. His tongue flicked out and licked her, and she couldn’t help the terrible shudder that wracked her body.
“I knew I’d never get to do any of the things I’d have countless dreams about.” He sighed, stirring her hair again. “I could tell you about those things, princess… but I’d rather just show you.”
Her heart lodged itself in her throat, and a thin sweat broke out across her brow as his dirty fingers unclasped the front of her cloak and began reaching inside. She could hardly process what was happening.
Anger filled her quite suddenly, and though she was still horrified, it strengthened her. She clung to it before it could leave her.
“If your hand reaches any further into my cloak,” she said slowly, so as not to cut herself on the blade with the movement. “You’ll die with it shoved down your throat.”
“Whooo-eee!” the man hollered again, and then laughed so hard that it turned into a fit of hacking coughs, spraying Surah’s cheek with bits of spittle. He was careful to keep the blade in place until he was finished.
“I heard stories about you.” He told her, shoving her forward and out of the trees, his body pressed awfully close behind her. “You don’t seem so big and bad to me. You gotta a good mouth on ya, but I’ve found girls with good mouths have plenty of uses.”
He laughed again, and Surah swore to the Gods right then that no matter how this ended, she would make him pay in blood and flesh for making her feel this way.
That didn’t stop her legs from trembling slightly as he lead her out to the road, and what she saw there made her clamp her lips together to keep from calling out.
Charlie and the big man leading the group of men were squaring off with each other.
The rest of the men stood around hooting and hollering, telling Slim (whom she assumed was the big man) to kick the pretty boy’s ass, apparently having forgotten the women they were chasing for this better bit of entertainment.
Surah sized up Charlie’s opponent, who was as wide and tall as an Ogre, probably outweighing him by a good fifty pounds, even though Charlie could in no way be considered a small man.
She cringed when Slim landed a hit on Charlie’s jaw, which made a cracking sound with the impact. Blood sprayed from Charlie’s mouth, and he stumbled back a few steps and spit out another mouthful of red.
Surah’s eyes darted around until she spotted the crossbow Charlie had somehow lost possession of in the hands of a skinny man in overalls. Her eyes went back to Charlie and she saw him grin at the big man through bloody teeth, his eyes twinkling with amusement, as if he hadn’t just almost had his head knocked off.
Panic began to well up in her, and she attempted a binding spell out of instinct.
Of course, it failed.
Charlie took another hit, this one to his stomach. He doubled over, but regained himself surprisingly quickly. He came up fast with an uppercut that sent the big man sprawling, but he recovered quickly as well.
Surah felt like squeezing her eyes shut, but couldn’t make herself take her gaze off Charlie. She could tell he was hurt and tired, but no matter how many times he got hit, he just kept coming back, that bloody grin on his face, spitting out mouthfuls of red as if it were chewing tobacco.
He took another hit, delivered another, and then caught one to his left eye that finally knocked him to the ground. Surah’s heart was beating so fast, her fear for him so intense, that she swore she could taste blood in her own mouth.
“Lookie what I got me here, fellas!” the man said, and the group of men on the road all turned to look over at him, including Slim and Charlie. “I found me a princess hiding in the trees. Ain’t that just sumthin?”
Surah glanced at Charlie, whose shoulders dropped visibly at the new development. She could practically read the exasperation in his eyes. Could hear the unspoken question there: Why couldn’t you just listen?
And his obvious worry for her in that moment made her feel very stupid and foolish. By being so smug she had managed to become something she hated—a damsel in distress.
Charlie still hadn’t regained his feet, and when he spat out another wad of red, Surah thought maybe they both were the damsels here.
Except, there was this strange look in Charlie’s eyes…
The big man, Slim, slapped his hand on his thigh, drawing her attention back to him, a wide, gapped grin on his face.
“Nice job, Larry. I always wanted to have me a princess. I just bet she’ll scream like a real bitch when I’m ramming my big—”
He never got a chance to finish, because Charlie was already on the move. Surah watched as he slipped the knife he’d given her out of his boot and stabbed it into the thigh of the man in overalls, who promptly dropped the crossbow and began screaming in pain.
Charlie caught the weapon before it hit the ground—which he had yet to get up from—and fired an arrow that went straight through Slim’s left eye.
The others hardly had a chance to process this before Charlie fired a second arrow, which struck the hand that held the knife to Surah’s throat. The knife clattered to the dusty ground, the man that was holding it screaming like, well, a real bitch.
Surah reached into her cloak and removed the sais strapped to her back.
Charlie pulled himself to his feet. Surah thought then that she’d been wrong about them both being the damsels of the situation.
Charlie Redmine was proving to be incredibly resourceful.
This should have comforted her, she thought. But for some reason, it didn’t.
Chapter 14
Surah
Surah kicked the man who’d been holding her hard in the stomach, and he fell to the ground with a thud, clutching his injured hand and staring at the arrow protruding from it in shocked wonder.
She stood over him now, the tip of her sai pointed at him, a pleased look in her violet eyes. She never enjoyed it when she had to do heinous things to protect herself, but she thought she might enjoy this.
She leaned down, lowering her voice so only he could hear her. “Not so big and bad now?” she said. “We’ll just have to see if I can change your mind about that. I’ve heard I can be very convincing.”
The remaining men stood speechless and indecisive, and Surah spared them a brief look after speaking to the one who had violated her. Her purple eyes were cold as she looked at them, the thought running through her head that she should just kill them all evident in her expression.
“Gentlemen,” she said. “I’m going to do some very unpleasant things to your friend here. If you choose to stick around, I will do some very unpleasant things to you as well. If you go now, I’ll let you live.” She flicked her wrist at them in dismissal. “Make your choices quickly.”
“You ain’t got no magic, either!” one of the men said, inching closer to where Surah was standing. “You Highborns ain’t shit without your magic. You’ll let us live? How about you get on your knees and we’ll let you li—.”
Surah didn’t let him finish. She reached into her cloak and pulled a small throwing star free of its folds. A heartbeat later, it was sticking out of the speaker’s head.
Another heartbeat later, he collapsed to the ground—dead.
Surah eyed him and shook her head. “Don’t be stupid,” she said to the others.
After a few glances between themselves, the remaining men took off down the road, back in the direction they’d been coming from.
> Charlie walked up beside her and stood looking down at the man who was now cowering at their feet. The blood running from the man’s hand splattered his ragged clothes, and his cries of pain were growing more and more agonized.
“What are you going to do to him?” Charlie asked.
Surah’s head tilted, and she took out a small, serrated blade. “I’m going to make sure his dirty hands don’t touch me, or anyone, ever again.”
Her eyes narrowed as she thought of how he’d licked her ear, of how her stomach had turned when he’d tried to slip his fingers into her cloak.
She leaned down closer to the man, saying her words slowly so he could not mistake them.
“Normally, I like to let people keep their tongues,” she told him. “It makes them better story-tellers, and after this, you’re going to have one hell of a story for your friends, Larry, but as for your tongue…”
Larry scooted back a couple inches on the dusty ground, tears running down his face and cutting tracks through the dirt there. He held his hands up over his head, cowering like a kicked dog.
“P-Please, my lady! I ain’t mean you no harm! I was just messin’ with you, was all. Let’s not do somethin’ crazy here!”
Surah crouched on her haunches. Larry scooted back further still, glancing around wildly, as if trying to decide whether or not to run.
He backed up right into Charlie’s legs, and his shoulders sank when he looked up to see the half smile on Charlie’s bloody face.
Charlie gave him a small kick back toward Surah. “You just sit tight,” he said.
“Hey! Y’all alright?” said a woman’s voice behind them.
Surah turned to see the old lady and the young girl the men had been chasing had returned. When they saw who she was, the old woman fell to her knees and bowed her head, yanking on the hem of the younger girl’s dress until she did the same.
Surah suppressed a sigh. So much for not being seen.
“Princess Surah,” the old lady said. “Forgive us, we did not know it was you.”
Surah offered her a hand. “Please, rise,” she said. “There is nothing to forgive.”
The woman grinned widely, revealing crooked teeth and making deep creases appear around her eyes. She took Surah’s hand and pulled herself to her feet. The younger girl beside her rose as well.
“I’m Candice Waterford, and this here is my granddaughter, Cindy-Joe.” She turned to Charlie. “Thank you for helpin’ us. Those men sure had trouble on their minds.”
Larry, who was still cradling his injured hand, spat on the ground beside him. “They’s some liars, my lady,” he said, suddenly minding his manners. He nodded toward Cindy-Joe. “That one there stole four bottles of liquor from us! She had it comin’!”
Surah narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh, I’m a lady now, am I? You didn’t seem to be of the same mind a moment ago.”
Larry shrank back and snapped his mouth shut, his muddy brown eyes wide with fright.
“So what if I did?” snapped Cindy-Joe, her face twisted up with anger. “They steal shit from us all the time. They’ve taken milk right off our porch stoop and chickens right out our backyard. They’re the ones that had it comin’.”
Her grandmother gasped at this and her hands fluttered anxiously. “Cindy-Joe! What in the names of the Gods is wrong with you? You know how to behave in the presence of a lady. This is your princess, I raised you better’n that.”
Cindy-Joe’s eyes went to Surah then, and she saw a little hatred behind the girl’s guarded expression, but in honesty could not blame her.
Just by looking at the girl—who looked about the same age as Surah, if her attitude was any indication—Surah could tell she had a hard life. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be made to grovel in the presence of Highborns, or what it would be like to have to worry about a gang of men stealing chickens out of the backyard.
Surah felt sympathy for the girl, and saw that she was actually very pretty underneath the dirt and grime and anger on her face.
“Well,” Cindy-Joe said, clearly not impressed, “then maybe the princess can tell us what the hell happened to the magic. Then we won’t hafta go all the way to the city to that stupid meetin’ tomorrow night.”
Surah was just thinking she was getting tired of all this when her eyes snapped to Cindy-Joe, who misinterpreted her serious expression and shrank back a touch. She made a conscious effort to soften her face and put a small, forced smile on her lips.
“What meeting is that?” she asked, as if it made no matter either way.
No need to tip her hand to these strangers, even if they looked harmless. Inside, her mind was racing with questions, her pulse kicking up a notch.
Cindy-Joe opened her mouth to speak but Candace slapped the back of the girl’s head and reached into the top of her brown dress. She pulled out a crinkled piece of paper and handed it over to Surah with an apologetic smile.
“The Hunters were out posting these everywhere earlier t’day, my lady,” she said.
Surah took the paper and unfolded it, making sure to keep everyone in her peripheral as she read.
A message to the Sorcerer people:
We are aware of the disappearance of the magic. Please, do not panic. Rest assured we are working on resolving this issue and expect that we will be successful soon.
Please, carry on as usual, and feel free to attend the public meeting midday tomorrow at Zadira Square. We will do our best to answer all questions and concerns at that time.
Sincerely,
Head Hunter Theodine Gray
Sounds like Theo, Surah thought.
At least he didn’t say Princess Surah is a traitor and kill on sight. A weight fell off her shoulders that she hadn’t realized had been there.
This was good. It seemed Theo was keeping her secret.
For now.
Surah refolded the note and handed it back to Candace. “Where were these posted?” she asked.
“As far as I know, they went out all over the kingdom, my lady. People been passin’ by my place all day on their way to the city. Lotta folks is worried.”
Surah nodded. “I’m sure.”
Cindy-Joe cut in again. “Are you? Because you don’t seem to be sure of nuthin’. You didn’t even know there was a meetin’.”
Surah got the urge to slap the spit out of this girl, but resisted. Though she didn’t always like what others had to say, she didn’t believe anyone should be punished for speaking their mind.
“And if you ask me,” Cindy-Joe continued, apparently not knowing when to quit, “you royals are worse off without the magic than we are. We don’t need it to wipe our asses or clean our clothes.”
Candace gasped and swatted her granddaughter’s head again. “Cindy-Joe Waterford!”
Surah held up her hand to assure the old woman it was okay, and gave the girl her sweetest smile. “I wonder why no one asked you,” she said.
For the first time since Candace and Cindy-Joe arrived, Charlie spoke, drawing Surah’s eyes away from the now scowling younger girl.
“Princess,” he said, and nodded down at Larry, who was looking as if he was still hoping for a chance to escape. “There is some unfinished business over here.”
Surah nodded and turned back to the women. “Thank you for your help, Ms. Waterford.” She glanced at the sky, which held a slowly sinking sun, deep pinks and purples cutting across the clouds. “Perhaps it’d be safest if you returned home. Who knows if those men plan on coming back?”
The old woman nodded her agreement. “It’d be wise for you to do the same, my lady.” She glanced around, noticing something Surah was hoping she’d overlook. “I hope I’m not outta place, my lady, but where is your escort?” Her eyes went to Charlie. “No offense, young man, but you don’t look like the Hunter type.”
Charlie waved his hand in dismissal and gave his signature half-smile. Surah didn’t fail to notice that Cindy-Joe was eying him, smiling at him in a way that made Surah ret
hink slapping her.
All of a sudden, she didn’t care how hard this chick’s life was. Surah didn’t like her.
She watched as Cindy-Joe flicked her dirty blond hair over her shoulder and sidled over to Charlie. “I don’t think we got your name,” Cindy-Joe said, batting her eyelashes in a way Surah found ridiculous. “You can call me CJ,” she added.
Surah knew she had no right, but anger and jealousy welled up in her despite her best efforts against it, and before she could think better of it, she said, “Charlie’s delighted to meet you, CJ, I’m sure, but he’s also right that we have business to attend to.”
Surah turned to Candace, thinking that if she looked at CJ much longer her eyes might burn holes in the girl’s shirt. “And you’re right, ma’am, he is no Hunter, but he is escorting me to the city, as my other means of travel vanished with the magic.”
“Charlie can’t speak for himself?” CJ cut in.
Surah wouldn’t be surprised if there was steam coming out of her ears just then, even though she had no real reason to be so irritated. Still, maybe she should cut out two tongues today.
Before she could form a response, Candace cut in for her. She swatted CJ on the head once again. CJ cringed.
“Gods, girl, don’t you ever know when to shut up?” she said. “I’m sorry ‘bout my granddaughter, my lady. She’s got nuthin’ but defiance in her veins. Let me make it up to you. Have you eaten dinner yet? My house is just yonder down the road, and I’d be happy to have you both. It ain’t fancy, but I make a great fried bird.”
Surah refused, but Candace persisted, and eventually, after a growl from her belly and a glance at the setting sun, she agreed. The old woman clapped her wrinkled hands happily and told Surah where to find her house. Then she hurried off down the road, dragging CJ behind her.
Surah’s eyes narrowed as she watched the girl leave, and she continued staring after her until she heard a low chuckle beside her.
She looked over to see Charlie smiling at her, as if the whole left side of his face were not swelling up.
