VARA

Vara rounded the corner, her heart thumping with such fury she thought it would explode from her chest. A nervous sweat soaked her scalp and poured down her face to mesh with tears. Though she’d never been so terrified, she didn’t run. He told me not to.

She willed herself to walk down the main road of Haver. Mud squished and popped as she slogged her way in the otherwise quiet night. After what happened to Sterl during the storm, people were already calling “cursed,” nobody was out late this night. Even the tavern had closed.

The flickering oil lights she passed as she walked caused the shadows to dance, which set her imagination running. She looked up at one of the lights, amazed. They are calling them “lights of science.” Vara didn’t know what the really meant, but it made no matter. Of the two, she was much more terrified of sorcery. She shivered again, thinking of the young violent woman that had nearly killed Animus. Had Yayisha seen her? For if she had…

She blinked and realized she had stopped walking. Quickly she started again, taking slow, methodical steps back to the temple. As she walked, she scanned the darkness, ears sharp, waiting for the slightest of sounds. I only have to make it back to the temple. Hopefully, Zalarius still sleeps….

An angular set of yellow eyes appeared in an alleyway between a set of two-story buildings. Vara froze. The light further down the street highlighted a whipping tail behind the beast, ten, maybe twelve feet behind it. Vara thought of running but stopped herself, knowing she couldn’t outrun the creature. She’d already tried that.

A man’s voice whispered. “He lives?”

“He does,” Vara matched his low voice.

“And?”

Vara paused, unsure of what else to say.

A growl came from the beast that emerged in front of her. It looked like a huge, muscular cat, its head as wide as her chest.

Quickly, she started talking. “He—he could walk. Nothing broken, maybe cracked ribs.”

There was a long pause from the shadows. “Animus saw your face?”

Vara nodded. “He looked right at me.”

“Good. And you know what you must do?”

Again, Vara nodded.

The cat growled again as the man’s voice became more audible. “I want to hear you say it.”

Vara’s entire body shook. Her head pounded; thoughts stumbling over themselves, none wanting to come forth. “I…”

A gaunt man standing nearly seven feet tall emerged from the darkness. A braided red beard cascaded down his frayed black robes to lay upon his chest. The entirety of his eyes glowed sky blue. He spoke. “Calm yourself. Tell me what you must accomplish.”

Vara forced herself to meet his eyes. As she did a terrible coldness enveloped her. The sweat on the back of her neck became so cold it made her gasp. She stammered, “I—I am to bed him. Many times.”

“And what of the girl?”

Vara teeth chattered. Yayisha terrified her. If Vara had a choice, she’d run as far away as she could and never return. But that was hopeless. She knew that. So she answered, “I watch her. Be civil. Keep my distance.”

“Very good,” the man said as he withdrew into the shadows.

She dared to ask, “When will I be free?”

The beast in front of her growled.

Vara steeled herself against those intimidating yellow eyes, asking again. “Suggo? You promised to—. “

From behind, a strong hand wrapped around her neck. Icy fingers latched around her throat, the cold of his grasp burning her skin as the pressure of his grip cut off her air. Vara grabbed at his hand, only to pull her hand quickly back from the pain of touching him. Like he’s made of ice.

Suggo whispered, “If my name tickles Zelicia Stormcloud’s ears, she’ll peel the skin from your body and feed it to you. After she kills you, I’ll pull you from your grave and do much worse.”

Vara’s eyes followed the cat as it approached, its huge maw biting her forearm gently, putting just enough pressure that Vara felt every last one of its teeth against her skin.

Suggo released her then, and Vara would have fallen back but for the cat’s firm grasp.

She wanted to scream.

Suggo’s voice once more came from the black shadows in front of her. “Do as your bid. Suggo will keep his promise.”

The cat let go of her arm and then simply vanished. Of the marks on her arms, they evaporated as if they had never been on her arm at all.

Vara steadied herself, heaving for breath. The streets around here were quiet. Bleeding Wizards. I hate them.

She walked well past the next light until there was nothing ahead of her but the road leading up the hill toward the temple. Finally out of the light, Vara sprinted up the winding road as fast as she dared. She raced around the walkway toward the back of the temple to the servant’s entrance. A lone guard stood there, his spear leaning against the wall.

Vara stopped running, gathering her breath before walking to stand in front of the guard. As she approached, the guard reached for the spear yet didn’t bring it to bear. “Who are you, girl?”

“She’s mine.” A man’s voice said behind him.

Vara cursed. When she saw the red embers of a lit cigar approaching, fear crept back into her. That and anger. Zalarius Zonce.

Her new master was a priest who had been summoned by Zelicia to come to Haver. He’d just arrived, for he’d been south, serving in the Blood Wars against the barbarians. Or so he told me when he bought me.

“Come here, girl,” Zalarius said.

She dared a scowl, knowing the shadows of the night masked her face. She walked quickly toward him, having already learned Zalarius did not like to be kept waiting. Making certain any sign of hostility toward him was gone by the time she entered the light, Vara approached him and bowed. Masters expect meekness from their slaves.

There was a pitcher on the table. A stout mug was cupped in his hand. Vara smelled the ale on him.

Zalarius blew cigar smoke out of his flattened nostrils. An angry scar as wide as her finger marred his left cheek, ending near the nose that had obviously been broken. That’s the good half of his face.

Zalarius towered over her. He was very tall.

“Hello, Tulka,” Zalarius said.

Tulka? He thinks me his mistress. Vara tried to keep herself from vomiting. The man was an ugly brute with an overwhelming belly. A long scar ran across his forehead. Half of his face had been recently burned when the brigands attacked them as they crossed the Great Southern river with the merchant caravan they had been traveling with. The burns were healing, but slowly. Too bad the brigands didn’t kill him.

Zalarius motioned with his thick arm. “Come here. Stand closer to the fire so I can see you.”

She acquiesced. Zalarius took a deep drink of ale as he watched her, feigning contentment. But Vara knew better. He’s never been happy a day in his life. Vara could sense people’s feelings, or at least she thought she could. From him she detected only hatred and deceit.

“Where you been wandering?” Zalarius said.

“I went to Sterl’s house. I didn’t know where you were so I tried a few of the inns and then—. “

Zalarius’s meaty backhand caught her in the ribs, a hard, swift shot that sent her tumbling to the ground. Before she could even take a breath she felt his hands grab her around her waist and hoist her to her feet. He spun her around to face him. One of his thumbs gripped her chin and forced her meet his eyes. “Lying whore.”

She knew the blow was coming. One of his fists drove into her stomach, doubling her over and to her knees. His hand tangled into her hair as he pulled her up to the table.

“Should’ve sold you to that whorehouse in Recka. They offered me good coin for ya.” He leaned close, his cigar and ale breath causing her to gag. “But then I wouldn’t have me a tulka now, would I?” Zalarius licked her ear.

Sick bastard. Vara forced herself to stay quiet as Zalarius hoisted her over one of his broad shoulders and carried her deeper into the temple. Cruelty was the only thing that made her Zalarius happy. That and beating her.

The guard yelled from behind him. “Everything all right?”

Vara considered asking yelling to him for help. But she only had to look at him to know that would be a worthless gesture. He knows it’s wrong, but is too scared. But it was more than that. Vara knew the hearts of men. She saw in the guard’s eyes his own lust for her. It was in the way he stood, how he looked at her. Then she remembered the last time she cried for help. I lost everything then. Everything.

Vara knew that once in the priest’s room, much, much worse awaited her. If she was lucky he’d pass out from too much drink. But either way, Vara knew that tomorrow she’d wake up completely healed, showing no signs of his abuse.

Vara allowed herself to think of what Suggo had promised her. Serve me well, and I shall free you. No man or woman shall ever own you again.

As she was being carried back, she looked at the underside of her forearms. Blue and red chains were wrapped around themselves on both arms, running from just under her hands and ending near her elbows. Signs of Slavery. Magic no paint or scar can cover. Can he truly remove them? If he kept his promise, he’d be the first man Vara ever knew to do so.

Yet, he was her only hope she had.