‘Madam Janaxia! It has been so long. But your style – truly, it has matured! I never thought to see such a thing, so clinging yet loose.’

Janaxia gave a spin, being sure to let her skirt flick out, to show how it fell and draped over her body. ‘It has been too long.’ She moved forward, letting herself be taken up in a hug, the shopkeeper still too bony for the gesture to be truly comfortable, but at least he meant well. The walls of his shop were covered with bales of fine silk and other materials, dummies hanging from the ceiling by chains (a little too reminiscent of something from Trakatha’s dungeon-laboratory) being used to display fine clothing, or at least as fine as Saltstone got. ‘Business appears to be treating you well.’

His servants, all in well-crafted and matching uniforms, bustled to and fro as they tended to customers, measuring some for clothing, serving others with food and drink. Janaxia accepted a glass of wine from one, declining it slightly in salute to Osari, her host.

‘Indeed. It’s been quite a few years since I switched from smugglings drugs in rolls of cloth, to smuggling rolls of cloth wrapped around some cheap drugs, and being thankful that no-one else seems to notice that the cloth is worth far more.’ He reached out to stroke a bolt of silk, vivid green, woven through with silver thread. ‘Listed this as Uvalan sacking, and those louts at the docks charged me a silver in taxes for the dreamweed tucked into it. Didn’t occur to them that the fabric’s worth a hundred gold!’ He plucked at Janaxia’s top. ‘But this, my dear, is exquisite. You certainly have done well for yourself. And a Sethan handmaid as well. I suppose you’ll be wanting her in livery, then?’

Sen was close behind, attentive to Janaxia who ushered her forward. ‘Yes, if you could. Something to bring out her eyes and scales, I think. And her legs, they are one of her better features. If you are amenable, Sen?’

‘Of course, Lady Janaxia.’ Her eyes were wide as she looked around, clearly unused to such spectacle. Well, it was rather grimy and dingy compared to the glories of the Sacred City, or any decent city, but for Saltstone, it was better than expected.

‘Of course. And for, ah, your sister?’

‘Kivata, come.’ As her name was spoken, Kivata twitched, approaching with fear in her movements. Her hands were still bound up, and she had barely spoken since her defeat, flinching every time that Janaxia looked at her. But at least she was obedient, coming when called. Janaxia put a hand on her shoulder, ignoring the twitch of fear that ran through Kivata’s body. ‘Now, this one needs a lot of work.’ She ran a hand through Kivata’s lank, black hair, still dirty with grit and grime. She tossed her head, feeling the sleekness of her own hair, a shining stream in comparison. ‘It was tempting to hose her down, but that seemed a little cruel. If you could kindly do… well, everything, to be honest. Hair, face, and some clothing that is rather less rank and ragged. Draw out whatever beauty you can find, I believe she has a certain amount of potential.’

She pulled on Kivata’s robes, the material wool, dirty and ripe with odour. While Mother may work her hard, there really was no excuse for not even cleaning herself! Osari was looking at Kivata with similar disgust, wrinkling his nose. ‘Yes, I can see a certain resemblance in your features, but you certainly take greater advantage of your looks and figure. This one is rather more… lumpen.’ He poked at her, trying to find where she was amongst the baggy cloth, ignoring the squeaks Kivata made. ‘There is some potential, but it will take some time to achieve. And of course, the subject must be willing.’

‘Oh, I’m sure Kivata will be entirely cooperative.’ Janaxia moved behind Kivata, taking a shoulder in each hand, speaking into her ear, feeling Kivata’s body shiver in fear and revelling in it. ‘You will be obedient, won’t you?’

Kivata’s voice was so quiet that it was barely audible. ‘Yes, Janaxia.’

‘Very good. Now, if you could do, well, everything. And a new ensemble as well – something practical, in the darker shades, but if you make it a little less…’

‘Sack-like?’ Osari said.

‘Quite, yes. And a few changes of clothing as well, just in case she should stain them somehow. Although I’m sure she won’t. Isn’t that right, Kivata?’

‘…Yes, Janaxia.’

Her simple obedience was a delight, after so many years of being a petty tyrant! She seemed a little shocked from her defeat still, but it seemed best to impress her new place in the hierarchy upon her, to prevent any nascent thoughts of rebellion.

‘Oi, you’re meant to be getting me something as well, remember!’ Semari spoke around a mouthful of hors d’oeuvres, grabbing them from the bowl a servant offered her.

‘I did say something from the house, but I suppose, as you are here, then your needs can no doubt be accommodated as well. Do you wish to be experimental, or stick with your usual stylings?’ Janaxia turned back to Osari. ‘This one is rather active and vigorous. Something easy to clean, and well-suited to allow a full range of movement. As you would dress a rambunctious child.’ Semari’s strike hit her just beneath the ribs, making her grunt and knocking the wind from her.

‘Hey, no need to be rude! But yeah, like, easy to move in would be great. Hey, might get a gift for Parth as well.’ She ambled off towards a glass jewellery case, a servant already moving close to keep a warding eye on her, obviously sensing her larcenous background. ‘As we are here, Vrintar, is there anything you desire? Perhaps some gifts for your husbands?’

Amongst the servants and customers of the shop, Vrintar stood out, taller than everyone else, her clothing and tattoos marking her as an outlander. She looked up from her conversation, one of the servants nodding animatedly. ‘Yes, I think some gems. And a few other gifts to distribute. This one was speaking of dwarf-crafted jewellery. Such a thing sounds suitably enduring.’

‘Yes, I imagine it would be. Something to hand to your descendants, perhaps? But let me take care of my charges first, and then I can advise.’ She pushed and pulled Kivata around until she was in position, holding her arms out to allow measurements to be taken, then handing her over to one of the staff for a full overhaul and workover.

Osari came over, his smile getting even wider when Janaxia handed over a bag of money, which swiftly vanished about his person, as he beckoned over another servant, more wine being poured. ‘It has been some time! I was worried you would fall afoul of some monster! But it seems you have survived your travels intact. But the rumours of you! Slaying demons at Redcastle, saving Baronet Karmarni, and you were engaged with that dreadful affair in Cormantara, so I hear? Such a shame, what happened to the Duke. When I think of you when I first saw you, well, the transformation is stunning! The Khems were speaking of you; they were most complimentary. And this material, the lace, is, well I can’t find the words. Come, you must tell me where you found it – it is Elven craft?’

Janaxia smiled smugly. ‘An original creation, actually.’ She had created it that morning – the chance of having her magic dispelled when getting Kivata re-styled seemed low. It was modelled after some of the clothing she had seen at Ashfall Keep, although with modification for her figure, and baring a little more flesh – elven fashion did tend to be rather conservative and all-covering, there was no shame in showing a little! She twisted and preened again, allowing Osari to feel the fabric, twisting on it to feel the weft and weight of the material.

‘Most impressive! I can certainly see how you caught the eye of the Anef twins. They asked about you.’ He looked up, eyes sharp. ‘Most curious they were, as to your relationship with your family, and all sorts of other things. They’ve been making a lot of waves recently, expanding into new territories. They, ah, welcomed me to their group a few months ago.’

‘Oh, I do hope they weren’t too rough with you.’

‘It was actually very polite. Cutter Garrick – the old pointman – had his throat slit as a warning, but at least they did it in the office rather than in front of the customers. And they’re giving me excellent deals on Sethan wares, I think they must have a direct line somehow. They pay rather better, and Asai has requested a few outfits! Which I was specifically instructed to not give you any details about, so I rather imagine she has designs on your next meeting.’

Janaxia smiled and gave a theatrical shiver of delight. ‘Excellent, it has been rather too long since we met. I shall have to think of something appealing to her predilections for my own garb. So, it appears you are flourishing?’

‘Quite, yes. I like to think of myself as bringing a little culture to the town. But tell me more of yourself! Your deeds, your travels! And what of the Iristari? There is quite the price on your head. Not enough to tempt any here to go against your blood, but you should be wary when travelling. And keep an eye on your companions, in case they should betray you.’

There was a cry of pain from one of the servants, as a flare of spell-power suddenly lit the room, Kivata yelping and looking about herself in confusion. Janaxia sighed, taking a sip of her wine before approaching. Kivata looked quite panicked and confused, some of the haze gone from her eyes.

‘Please calm yourself.’

Kivata whimpered and raised a hand protectively, as though fearing an attack. Janaxia focused her own powers, a crown of burning iron settling itself upon Kivata’s brow, and she immediately relaxed, smiling at Janaxia with trust in her eyes.

‘As I say, please calm yourself. No-one here will hurt you, they simply wish to improve you. Kindly let them tend to their work.’ She patted Kivata on the head, hand passing through the crown. ‘Now, sit.’ It was like commanding a dog that had been whipped and needing an excess of kindness to overcome the fear. ‘Good girl. Now, don’t let there be a repeat of such behaviour, or I shall be very cross, do you understand?’

Kivata gave a deeply satisfying whimper, sinking into her seat and letting herself be tended to, crown still flickering upon her brow, as Janaxia returned to Osari. ‘Now, where were we? Oh yes, you were telling me of your recent expansion. You truly do seem to be flourishing! I hope the Anef’s aren’t pushing you too hard.’

They conversed as Kivata was restyled, the flaming crown on her brow binding her into submission. Various styles were tried on Semari, before she settled for a surprisingly dashing shirt of black silk, held shut by golden knotwork, a pattern spiralling over one arm and shoulder. And Vrintar seemed satisfied with her choices; some chunky dwarven work, brightly-buffed metal that would look good contrasted with more ragged and rugged furs. Although had made her dissatisfaction at being knocked out rather pointedly known, in a fashion that left little doubt as to the potential consequences of a similar event. Although she had promised to ravage in a largely non-discriminatory manner, which might grant Janaxia some time and space to make her escape.

Eventually, Osari’s servants had finished their work, stepping back and allowing her to stand, the crown still flickering on her brow. She was certainly improved, and would pass, barely, in decent company. Her robe was still decidedly ‘functional’ rather than ‘attractive’, but some compromises had to be made, Janaxia supposed. Kivata smiled uncertainly, as Janaxia dismissed the spell, the glare of fanaticism fading from Kivata’s eyes.

‘Now, doesn’t that feel much better than your old robes? Far more comfortable.’ She ran a hand down Kivata’s cheek, choosing to ignore the woman’s shudder. Would the poor thing need etiquette lessons as well? Well, she would be used to harsh treatment, and if she were a slow learner, would receive more of the same. ‘Now, while we are waiting for Sen’s outfit to be completed, why don’t you tell me of Mother’s plans, or at least what she has told you of them?’

Kivata shuddered again, eyes casting about for escape, forcing Janaxia to grasp the back of her head and force their eyes to meet. ‘It would be simpler if you were to tell me, I would rather spare myself the effort of forcing it from you.’ She tightened her grip, feeling hairs start to break, resisting the urge to rag Kivata’s head about. She hadn’t done anything to deserve such harsh treatment, yet, at least. ‘You may speak. Or shall I bind you in magic again?’

Kivata whimpered, trying to look away, Janaxia not letting her. ‘She… she desires dominion. As the Icereaver once ruled, that is her goal. But she seeks old and ancient powers, from before the fall of the Elven Empire.’ Tears were starting to form in her eyes now, Janaxia giving her head a slight shake, to prompt further explanation. ‘She has been seeking ancient relics and powers, researching into the Unspeakable Tongue. She seeks the knowledge of the ancient dark, from before it was scoured from the world.’

Well, that all sounded dreadfully tiresome. Janaxia gave Kivata’s head another shake, revelling in being able to assert her dominance. ‘Why did she attack an isolated fort?’

‘Greganx was sent to acquire the bodies of the elves. They are preserved and Trakatha can make them into powerful weapons!’ Her right eye darkened, a rune shifting into place. Janaxia slid her hand around Kivata’s face, her thumb just beneath the eye. Kivata whimpered. ‘Please, Mother has bound me to silence.’ She started to shake. ‘Please don’t take my eye!’

‘Tell me what you can, then.’ It was a threat that would be entirely distasteful to follow through on, but Kivata did still have several unbroken fingers if further inducement was required. Whatever binding spell Mother had put in place would probably be highly grotesque and utterly lethal, so it was small wonder that Kivata was being cautious. The poor thing seemed in genuine terror, sufficient that deception seemed improbable. ‘She appears to have some issue with the Iristari, beyond their sudden ascension to power. What of that?’

‘Did she not tell you before you were sent on your mission? The younger is spoken of in prophecy! Is that not why you were sent to slay her?’

It wouldn’t do to betray a lack of knowledge, although Janaxia had not been sent on any such mission. Instead she nodded, trying to look certain of herself. ‘I would wish to know what your knowledge of such matters is, though. To see what Mother has told you.’

The rune was still showing in her eye, although appeared slightly paler now. ‘The heir was an impediment to her plans. She had to be slain before Mother’s plans could progress. But she was powerful and strong, so Mother didn’t dare send any of her agents. But you must have deceived her and struck her down!’

Well, that hadn’t been quite what happened, but if it bought her some measure of respect, so be it. Although Stathis being accounted so fearsome that even Ophexia and Perasperan were kept away? That was a surprise. Of course, she could probably defeat them if allowed to close to melee range, but both her siblings were sufficiently potent mages that “melee range” shouldn’t happen. Something to ponder later.

She pressed her thumb slightly harder against Kivata’s cheek, moving it up slightly, Kivata now twitching in fear, unable to move away. ‘And what may have pushed Mother to such actions? She has always been interested in ancient things, but this seems to be rather overt.’ She smiled at Kivata, watching terror spark in her eyes,

‘The stranger! I don’t know their name.’ She started to babble, hunching in on herself in a futile attempt at self-protection. ‘They came and talked. And then Mother started delving into the ancient texts and started her plans. And Ophexia and Peresperan were… changed.’ The rune in her eye was darker and more obvious now. ‘They visit sometimes. I’ve seen them with Trakatha, giving her shards of metal to implant into her creatures.’ Kivata’s eye was now almost entirely black, as Janaxia covered her mouth with her hand, silencing her momentarily, as the mark stayed there, darkly prominent. Probably best not to tempt it with further revelations; being showered with splattered shards of Kivata’s skull and brains would be most distasteful.

But “dark metal”? That sounded familiar, like the loathsome, trashy stuff that Stathis kept tossing at her, that always faded away to dust. Could it have some actual potency to it, if used without immediately disintegrating? She gave Kivata a pat on the head. ‘Good girl. You have done well.’ The relief on her face was quite pathetic, the way she smiled far too much like a broken dog. ‘Now, shall we see if Sen is done, and then we can return home?’

Sen’s outfit was indeed complete – sleeker than a usual servant’s outfit, it emphasised her hips and legs, something interesting going on with thin layers of linin sliding over each other as she moved, cut-outs to highlight some of her scaled patches, highlighting her exotic appeal. The white suited her, especially with a few ornaments of obsidian and onyx for contrast. She looked far more suitable as a lady’s maid now, sure to draw attention and compliments! She posed and preened for Janaxia, who fussed her hair a little, tweaking it into a better position, before judging the work completed to sufficient standard to be worth paying for.