by Janeal Falor
The weakening is tiny, barely anything at all. Yet if it continues, will it be enough to get through? How long can I hold this spell anyway? I don’t know enough to stop him. But if I cover his hands, sort of bind them, maybe that would stop him? It’s worth trying. If I don’t do something, I’ll end up back under his power, and my magic will mean nothing to me and everything to him.
And worse—what will the council do to me? To my sisters? Will the council think they are involved? I have to fix this.
The red streaks flare brighter as I propel the spell out harder, making the bands thicker and heavier until they are big enough to wrap around his hands. My folly may be the undoing of my sisters. This will be enough to keep him from sneaking free. It has to be.
He struggles again, faint flashes appearing from his fingers beneath the gold and red, but nothing happens. It seems, for now at least, he can’t do anything other than grunt and squirm about. Feigning a confidence I don’t feel, I lean over until my face is inches from his.
“This is what we’re going to do. You are going to release your ownership of me, just like Chancellor Zade did with Serena and I will go free.” He starts to say something, but I interrupt him. “You made it clear earlier you know all about it. There’s no escaping this. Do you have servants?”
He doesn’t respond.
“Do you?” I yell, fear sounding so much like anger.
“Yes,” he croaks out.
“How many?”
“I don’t know, lots. Over fifty.”
Thank the magic. “We’re going to gather them all together and you will tell them of my freedom. Then after I leave, you will tell everyone you know, everyone, that you changed your mind. That you didn’t want me but didn’t want to tarnish me because I’m just so nice.” His eyes tighten, but I press on. “That you gave me my freedom and no one is to bother me.”
He starts to shake his head. I tighten the already snug spell on his hands and wrists, emphasizing my control.
“You will do this. And then you will never, ever speak to anyone about what I can do, or I will make sure they all know, with vivid detail, how easily I overtook you. Do you understand?”
His face goes pale and finally he gives the slightest of nods.
“Good.” I hope. If my threat doesn’t work, I don’t know what fate will befall me and my family. “Take us to your servants. And if you make one wrong move, we’ll be right back here going over this again. Only next time, I won’t be so kind.”
Once more he nods, his lips giving a strained twitch. I release him from the chain spell but keep my hands up, ready to clamp them back in place.
He shrinks away and without a word leads me through the house. I follow, not trusting him, but having no other choice. If he should do anything contrary to what I asked, I’m ready to act however may be needed. Even if it means being harsher than a chain spell. At least I think I am ready.
We move from one hall to another, to another. How anyone can stand living in such a labyrinth is beyond me. I’ve no idea if we’re going anywhere useful or not. Though, perhaps that is the point. Wandering does afford plenty of time for thinking. Or rather, worrying. Mostly about what a terrible mistake I’ve made. What if he doesn’t keep quiet? What if he tells others about me? What will happen?
There’s no way to know. Besides, what other choice did I have? He was trying to take my blood. Thinking about it is making my head spin again. My thoughts are jumbling, piling up in a mass of worry. I need to focus on getting out of here. Then I can figure out what damage my actions caused, and if there’s anything that can fix it.
After a while of walking and turning down halls, we finally stop. He has led me to the kitchen. Makes sense. There’s always someone in the kitchen. It’s larger than I’ve ever seen, with an unfamiliar-looking electric cooktop, long counters, and two sinks. Six servants turn to him, their heads, whether the tarnished bald or not, lowered. They were all hiding in here, I suppose.
He addresses the closest servant—a male, lower class. “Gather everyone here as quickly as you can.”
Though Edward doesn’t sound as confident as when he was at Serena’s house, if I hadn’t hexed him myself, I wouldn’t have any idea what he’d just been through. My threat may be enough to make this happen with the servants at least.
The retainer scurries away, presumably to tell the others the latest order. The others return to their task. We wait in silence, me standing a little behind him, ready to bolt or cast a spell as soon as it’s needed. Every so often, one of the servants shifts or grabs another cooking utensil, but they don’t do much, either. They must be frightened of him as well.
When no one returns, I start to wonder if he somehow tricked me. Did he give some sort of signal to the servant and I didn’t notice? Something that said for him to bring the closest law officer? And do what to me? I don’t know. However I do know I don’t want to find out. I was watching the entire time.
While I’m hesitating over what to do, one of the doors opens. I jump and bend my knees to run. But it’s not a law officer. It’s a tarnished servant. I relax some, but stay ready to run.
The servant is out of breath but hurries to the center of the kitchen and stands with his back straight, arms at his sides, head lowered. It’s the fact that he’s out of breath that finally clues me in. This house is big. Of course it’s going to take time for everyone to gather together. From the way the servant is acting, it would appear they’re coming as fast as they can. I’m such a ninny.
Still, I don’t let down my guard.
Servants continue trickling in, slowly at first, but soon the kitchen is crammed full of them. Yet, somehow they manage to give both Edward and me a large berth. They’re pressed against each other so tightly, it’s a wonder they can breathe. Where were they all when I first arrived and so desperately wanted to see another human?
Finally, the original servant he sent off says, “We’re all here, master.”
There are so many of them. More than Zade has running his home, and he has a lot because he tries to protect and help as many lower class and tarnished as he can. This is what I need to hope that Edward giving my freedom will be accepted—a room full of witnesses. The biggest relief doesn’t just come in their numbers, but that most of them are lower-class men. Their word will be accepted more than the women, and especially the tarnished.
But gossip will spread from everyone gathered. Hopefully, across town or wherever I travel to. I don’t even know where I am, let alone where to go. There’s no time to panic about that now. I have to finish dealing with this first.
“This is my latest acquisition, Cynthia.” His voice sounds strangled. I’m no longer hexing him, so why is he so agitated? “She is—That is to say, I am going to…”
He looks to me with a sort of begging look on his face. What is this for? Does he really believe I’d succumb to that? He must be a complete dunce. There’s no chance I’m not taking my freedom. I scowl at him. It’s then he does something a warlock never does,. He lowers his head.
“I am going to set her free.” His voice cracks. “I don’t wish to own her but don’t wish to tarnish her. She shall be as free as any warlock, just as her sister Serena.” It almost sounds as if he is in tears as he turns toward me. “Now get out.”
I want to remind him to keep the second half of my demand, but I don’t want the servants to hear. That would be worse than saying nothing at all. Instead, I nod and move to leave. Only I have no idea where the entrance is. I’m lost. Of all the times I’ve been grateful I’ve perfected faking my emotions, none have even come close to this moment.
I smile at the closest servant, a man with a thin scar on his right temple. “Would you please show me the way out?”
The servant looks startled, then turns toward Edward for permission, but my owner of not even a day has already departed.
Once the servant realizes the master is no longer here, the uncertain look leaves his face. With a most solemn expression, h
e says, “I’d be honored.”
The rest of the servants must also feel it would be an honor as well, because as I’m shown out, they all follow. All of them. It can’t be easy or comfortable traveling after me though such a confined space. Still they come. Quietly, yet gently moving with me through the maze of the house.
When we reach the entry, the only area familiar in this place, the servant I asked for help says, “I would offer you a carriage, but…”
“I will manage. Thank you.” I face everyone. “Thank you all.”
They nod, eyes bright as they watch me leave. With my head held high I step out of the house, walk down the lane and out onto the road. Once I'm out of sight of the mansion, the reality of what just happened slams into me. I’m free, free as any warlock. The dirt is hard beneath my shoes as I do a running sort of skip down the road that would make my younger sisters proud. I’m as light as air, and happier than I’ve ever been.
I break out in a full run, pushing myself as fast as I can. The stretch and burning in my legs is as good as casting any spell. Then my foot slips in a hole. Suddenly I’m falling, down, down, down—I slam into the packed earth. Pain splits up my knee, hands and face. I lay on the ground, letting the pain eat into my reality.
What am I doing? It’s late at night, and I’m alone, running in the middle of the road because I don’t have an owner anymore? It almost sounds nice until the other side of that freedom crushes in on me. I have nowhere to go, nothing to wear but this dress, which is probably torn and dirty, though it’s too dark to see for sure. I’ve nowhere to eat, nowhere to sleep. This freedom came with a price I didn’t even know I would have to pay.
I roll onto my back and stare mindlessly at the stars above me. What did I just do? What have I done? Naturally, I want to be free, but I should have thought about the consequences of my actions more. Not only am I left with nothing, but I haven’t an idea whether or not Edward will stay true to his word. If he calls for law officers to retrieve me, will it matter if a group of servants saw him release me? Even if there were so many of them?
What’s worse is not what may happen to me, but what I’ve done. I wrap my arms around myself. I’m just like father.
The thought makes me ill. What I did to Edward is exactly what father would have done. If I had done something wrong and Serena stepped in to save me from punishment, he would have punished her. Perhaps he would have taken it further, but the concept is the same. How can I be just like him? My stomach roils until I’m scrambling to the side of the road, heaving.
Once finished, I pull myself up and limp down the road. I can’t stay where there are only thoughts of how like father I am, where I could be captured at any moment. I don’t know where I’m going, but I need to get farther from where I am. From who I’m becoming.
Chapter Five
I spend all night trudging along. Walking and walking, yet unsure if it does me any good. For all I know, Edward lives in the countryside without another soul for miles. Or perhaps he lives right next to town, but I went the opposite direction. Blasted windowless carriages. I’d hex them all to be burnt to charred ash if I could.
Night deepens. My legs and feet ache, each step makes the pain expand, tearing into my muscles. My stomach growls, mouth dry. It’s like father's here punishing me, once again locking me in the basement for two days, but there’s nothing to be done for any of it. Perhaps there’s some spell for conjuring food, but I’ve never seen or heard of one. I know of nothing to aid this insane mess I've thrown myself into.
I shove on. There’s no other choice. I must find someone, or somewhere, that can help. I don’t want to escape a life of being owned only to die of thirst and starvation on an unfamiliar stretch of road. Walking becomes a mind-numbing journey. Can’t allow myself to think or feel. Dirt and rocks beneath my feet, dark abyss all around.
Finally, there’s a light off in the distance. The closer I get, the more the light multiplies. It’s a town. For a brief moment, the weight pressing me down lightens. But then it’s back, heavier than ever. Without knowing what awaits me there, I can’t be glad. It’s not home. The carriage ride to Edward's was much too long for me to have reached my home on foot, and that’s the one place that would make me truly happy. If I’m fortunate, maybe I can find some food and avoid being apprehended.
Fortune is not my friend.
As I enter the town, I keep to the shadows. The houses are mostly dark, but a rare few have the glow of electric lights and several have the softer glow of candlelight. Stepping lightly, I try to stay in shadows of houses without any light.
It must be past curfew. Though I may have my freedom, there’s no way to prove it. Besides, it’s doubtful most warlocks would care even if there was proof. Since gaining my freedom wasn’t public, as Serena’s was, no one would notice or care if I disappeared. At least no one with the ability to do anything about it.
There are so many houses here. More than I’ve ever seen in one place. They vary more in shape and size as well. Some are tall and skinny, while others sprawl across the land. The further into town, the more the sprawling ones give way to the tall, skinny ones. No sign of food anywhere. From houses to the few shops scattered among them. With so many houses, there must be a lot of people in them. Where do they all get their food?
It doesn’t matter. My limbs can barely move. I stumble around like someone who drank too much wine. My eyelids droop. I’m worse off than a toddler at nap time. As I’m searching for a place to hide and rest, loud laughter echoes down the street.
I press myself against the closest house, pulse drumming through me. Several young warlocks are wandering down the street, playfully pushing each other and casting spells, though it’s difficult to tell what type. It’s not important right now anyway. Fool of a girl, I can’t be trying to learn when their presence means danger.
I slink along the edge of the building, trying not to draw attention to myself before I reach the corner and slip to the other side. Inch by inch, I grow closer to my goal. I’m almost there, almost there. I’m going to make it without being spotted! My foot kicks a rock. The resulting crash is loud, too loud. I freeze.
My hands flex, magic pulsing through me. But the warlocks continue cajoling each other as if they heard nothing. I relax the back of my head against the wall behind me before slinking along again, this time paying extra attention to what my feet are touching.
A few more steps and I’m around the corner. As I enter the alley, I let out a sigh and hurry away. Except I’m not safe yet. Their raucous laughter is growing closer and I’m still visible from the street. I rush to the other end, hoping their noise covers mine. Only the other is a dead end. A brick wall.
Panic claws at me as their sounds come closer. I shove it away as I struggle for a solution. The only things here are garbage bins. Disgusting. But not so vile that I would risk getting caught instead of hiding. Holding my breath, I dart behind them.
I close my eyes and make myself take shallow breaths as I listen to the warlocks, hoping they pass by my alley. They ignore my silent plea. Their teasing gets slowly louder and closer. I wrap my arms around my legs, squeezing myself into a ball as they near the alley.
“Where’re you going, Saban?” one calls out.
“Need to take care of something.”
“What? Down there?”
Down there? As in down here? Please, no, no, no!
“Old Grayson could use a little extra something. He’s always so rigid.”
One of the voices is getting closer, and the footsteps. Blast! They crunch against the pebbles and dirt, heading straight for me. If he comes close enough to the tins, I’ll be seen, and there’s nothing to be done about it.
Well, there is something. I’ve always kept my magic secret until yesterday, but if it comes to either my being caught and punished, or using magic, I could hex him. Possibly. But would this be one more thing to make me like father? Would it make me more like the rest of the warlocks? Their cruelty is somethin
g I never, ever want to emulate again. But to protect myself, perhaps that is acceptable as long as I don’t become overzealous. My hands shake as I hold them up, ready to defend myself.
The footsteps move closer. The shaking grows more violent, the energy inside me trembling with it. Suddenly, there’s silence.
“Hurry it up, Saban.”
“There are some things you can’t hurry,” the closer voice shouts back.
The boys laugh. What are they talking about? Is he trying to slowly sneak up on me? Purposefully making a mess of my emotions before dragging me out of the alley? If so, it’s working. Though the strain on my nerves makes me feel like my magic will erupt at the first sight of him. It’s not a consequence he’d expect. However, as bad as my hands are shaking, my aim would be ineffective.
I take several slow, steadying breaths like Zade taught us to do when shooting. There’s a strange sound. Like something I should recognize, but don’t. Like a spray of water landing on something hard? Oh, filth! Is he taking care of his personal business in public? Revolting!
The sound trickles on for much too long before finally stopping. I’m so shocked and dismayed that the shaking in my hands has lessened at least. But as his footsteps sound again, the shaking returns. Until I realize the sound is fading away. I let my shaking hands fall to my lap as he and his friends leave, laughing over his crude manners as they go. Still, I don’t relax until there’s no sound left.
Once it’s silent for a minute, I start to lean back against the wall. The thought assails me of what that warlock just did. My back goes hexed straight.
Ugh. How incredibly foul. The only place that would be worse to be right now is back at Edward’s. As exhausted as I am, there won’t be any relaxing this close to where someone relieved himself. I just can’t.
I stand, brush myself off, and walk toward the street—this time keeping far from the walls. Not far enough, though. My skin itches with the need for scrubbing. I brush myself off again, but it does nothing to ease the feeling. When I’m to the street, I cringe and creep toward the wall, though I don’t touch it. Only the need to stay safe and hidden is keeping me here.
