The Hunchback

by Regine Abel

  As Frollo rose to his feet, mouth gaping at Esmeralda’s incredible display of power, I fell to my knees, teeth clenched in pain. The Chant filled me with something akin to physical pleasure—almost orgasmic in its nature—and a tremendous sense of power. At the same time, pure agony coursed through me as the Chant intensified the symptoms of my condition. My face throbbed and was swelling at an exponential rate. My skin felt on the verge of splitting open, and ghostly hands were frantically stabbing at my hump with a searing hot blade.

  By the time I broke free of the trance the Chant had put me under, I could barely refrain from crying out in agony. My vision blurred and my stomach roiled as I attempted to crawl on all fours towards the hidden passage. I didn’t even cross a meter before I collapsed. A strangled cry rose from my throat while my imps flew around my head in panic.

  The Chant abruptly stopped. The only sound echoing through the room was the muffled thump of my convulsing limbs. Victus flew over the railing to seek out Frollo for help. The Maidens gasped and squealed in fear, while Esmeralda merely gaped in shock. Victus signed to Frollo to come rescue me. The Praetor obviously didn’t understand the message, but the fury contorting his features revealed he at least understood that I had disobeyed his order to stay in my quarters.

  The excruciating pain torturing me overrode the worry that would normally seize me at the prospect of his justified wrath. Right now, I just wished to lose consciousness so that I no longer felt like my spine was being repeatedly torn right out of my back. But I was trapped in this endless well of misery.

  “You little vermin,” Frollo hissed.

  Raising his palm towards Victus, Frollo sent out a bolt of lightning, hitting the imp square in the chest. I shouted for him to stop, but only a tortured groan got past my lips. Victus flopped to the floor, stunned. Lazarus squeaked in fear while his brother weakly flapped his wings.

  “NO!” Esmeralda shouted when Frollo made to zap the imp again. She rushed down from the dais to pick up Victus.

  “This creature shouldn’t be inside this sacred temple,” Frollo said in a hard voice. “I’ve been too soft with my gardener. Apologies that such a powerful Chant should have been so rudely interrupted.”

  “It’s okay,” Esmeralda said, looking disturbed by Frollo’s anger. “I believe we are sufficiently attuned, anyway.” She cast a look towards the Maidens seeking confirmation. They all nodded while staring warily at the imp.

  Victus, flapping his wings again, flew drunkenly out of Esmeralda’s grasp and towards me.

  “I think there’s someone up there,” Esmeralda said, her voice filled with concern. “Someone in pain. Could it be your gardener?”

  “Do not worry. I will handle it,” Frollo said in a clipped tone. “You’ve had a long day, and a longer one still awaits you in the morning. I will see you tomorrow.

  Esmeralda hesitated, casting a worried glance up at the balcony before caving. She exited the room, and instead of hastening to my side, Frollo stared at the balcony with murder in his eyes. My own eyes felt like they were being squished inside my skull. Despite his dizziness, Victus poured what little healing abilities he possessed into me to try and lessen my pain, imitated by his brother. But I was beyond their assistance.

  The electric coils that had danced over my skin and the intense power I’d felt within faded with Esmeralda’s departure. I was left with nothing but the abysmal torment from which the Praetor didn’t seem too eager to relieve me. Pained moans poured out of me in a steady stream for an eternity. I didn’t know if I’d lost consciousness, but Frollo’s hand suddenly yanking me onto a hover stretcher sent a new wave of agony through my body, and this time, blessed darkness fell before my eyes.

  I came to lying on my stomach on the hover stretcher. The familiar disinfectant scent of Frollo’s lab filled my nose. Despite the atrocious pain that continued to rack my body, I could have wept with anticipatory joy, knowing that soon, very soon, it would be taken away.

  “I should leave you like this,” Frollo hissed, noisily preparing his tools for the procedure. “I should leave you like this through the night to teach you not to disobey me. What the fuck were you thinking?” he shouted, standing before me, his hand fisting the spinal tap needle as if he wanted to stab me with it. “Do you have a death wish?”

  I tried to shake my head, but my body barely responded.

  “I asked you a fucking question!” Frollo yelled, making my ears ring.

  “N… n… no,” I barely managed to answer.

  “Have I not told you time and time again what the Citizens would do to a Fallen if they discovered you? And you brought your wretched imps with you. The Maidens and the Anointed have seen the vermin. Imps only become familiars to Fallen.”

  Frollo yanked up my shirt over my back in a brutal motion that sent stabbing pain along my spine and down my legs. I cried out and, eyes rolling in my head, I fought to remain conscious.

  “Fifteen years I’ve devoted to protecting your sorry ass, and this is how you repay me? It’s one thing to put your life at risk for a pretty Vestal, but you’re okay putting mine on the line as well?”

  Frollo didn’t wait for an answer that I wouldn’t have been able to voice anyway. Using no anesthesia, and showing none of his usual care for my discomfort, the Praetor jabbed the needle at the base of my hump along my spine. I thought my face would split from my mouth opening too wide to roar with agony. For a few seconds, the pain further increased—not that I would have thought it possible—and then pure bliss as the pressure faded from my back.

  “You will no longer stay in the temple,” Frollo said in a cold voice, removing the full tube of glowing, silver liquid drained from my back, to attach a new one to the needle. “The construction of your cabin is advanced enough to be habitable now. Leave tonight when everyone is asleep. Tomorrow, I’ll have my personal guards bring you the rest of your heavier belongings. See that you remain out of sight.”

  My heart ached at losing my room at the very top of the spire. It had been my window on the world, giving me the illusion that, somehow, I belonged. Located in a remote corner of the Temple’s garden, hidden from view by trees and bushes, my cabin was shaping up to be a beautiful home. I had built it myself in my spare time. It was close to the river where I often fished, and near the woods where I occasionally hunted game. Although it would make a lovely home, it would also isolate me more than ever; out of sight and out of mind.

  And worse still, it would keep me away from my wo… from Esmeralda.

  “I’m sorry, Praetor,” I said in a weak, broken voice. “I had only wanted to listen to the Chant.”

  “You could have listened on the day of the Festival, from the safety of your balcony,” Frollo snapped. “Now, you have even lost that! See that you do not lose more.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off with a series of questions about my condition. Normally, after thirty days, he only drained two and a half vials of silver liquid from my hump. But right now, he had already drawn four vials, and was working on a fifth. I didn’t know why it had escalated so fast and so soon; only that the Vestal’s presence—and especially her voice—had stirred some kind of energy within me that spurred on my illness.

  A troubled look crossed Frollo’s face as he studied mine. It no longer ached or felt stretched to the point of bursting anymore. In a couple of hours from now, I would look handsome. To my shame, that thought immediately conjured up a scene where Esmeralda would get to see my face and find me more attractive than the Praetor.

  As if he’d guessed the nature of my thoughts, Frollo’s face took on an angry edge, and he gave me a hard stare. Finished at last, he placed the fifth vial—two-thirds full—on the tray by the hover stretcher I’d been lying on.

  “We’re done here. Go back to your quarters, and do not use the lift,” Frollo said with contempt. “You’ve exposed yourself enough for one day. Remember, be gone tonight and stay the fuck away from Mera. I intend to make her my wife, and I will no
t have her scared off by you.”

  Mera.

  The familiarity with which he used her nickname triggered a rabid anger inside me. I fisted my hands to prevent my claws from shooting out and shredding his pretty face to pieces. I didn’t know why I felt so possessive of her. Granted, she was stunningly beautiful, but Frollo only ever invited attractive Vestals to Paris. None of the previous ones had stirred me like Esmeralda did. I bit my tongue so as not to tell him that he could never have what was mine.

  The Praetor gestured with his head for me to get off the stretcher. Obedient, I complied, my entire body still aching from the violent spasms that had racked it earlier.

  “Thank you for helping me,” I said, standing on unsteady feet.

  The words scorched my tongue. Although I genuinely was grateful to be free of the pain, he hadn’t done it out of compassion or love for me. I was a useful tool and ‘free’ labor that he exploited in exchange for his ‘protection’ against those who would harm me. But now that I was banished from the temple, did it even make sense for me to stay here, choking under his tight leash? If I were to be isolated, I could be isolated and free in the wilderness of the First Circle.

  But then you would never see Esmeralda again.

  Frollo harrumphed his acknowledgment of my gratitude, then headed to the wall panel that he opened onto the hidden passage. The lab and his quarters were the only rooms to which the bioscanners would not grant me access. With heavy steps, I padded towards the doorway and into the staircase passage.

  “And, Kwazeem,” Frollo called out behind me, “I can only drain you so many times before your spine sustains permanent damage. Disobey me again, and the next time, I will let you enjoy the pain for an entire day… or two.”

  Hands fisted before me so he wouldn’t see them, I looked at the Praetor over my shoulder, forcing a repentant expression on my face. “Understood, Praetor.”

  Without another word, Frollo closed the secret door in my face. Silencing the resentment in my heart, I focused my energy on climbing the nine stories from the third floor where the lab was located to my room on the twelfth. My muscles screamed in protest, but I ignored them, too.

  Nothing, and no one, would break me—least of all, pain.

  Chapter 4

  Esmeralda

  After draping my white sarong into a one-shoulder dress, I slipped on a pair of flat sandals and quickly brushed my long, curly hair. For a moment, I considered tying it up but decided to let it flow freely down my back.

  The thought of breakfast with Frollo had lost its appeal last night. Him zapping the imp, clearly in distress and coming to him for assistance, had been shocking. That he’d intended to actually kill it had been repulsive. Granted, imps were not naturally welcomed among the human colonies of the Nine Circles. While mostly non-aggressive, they usually sought the companionship of Fallen the same way dogs sought that of humans. So, what in the world was it doing in Vesta’s temple of all places?

  But the indifferent way in which he had reacted to his gardener’s malaise had truly disturbed me. While I didn’t approve of cruelty towards pets, that he’d been so laid-back about another human being’s suffering spoke volumes about his questionable morals and apparent lack of empathy. Even if the Attunement Chant was meant to be a private affair, there had been no harm in the gardener sneaking in quietly to listen. Punishing him for this inoffensive indiscretion felt disproportionately cruel.

  I had almost gone up to the balcony myself to tend to the man—or at least, I assumed it had been a man. However, I’d gotten the strong feeling Frollo simply wanted me gone so that he could do so away from prying eyes. It raised a billion questions in my mind as to why he would want to hide his gardener from us.

  Sighing heavily, I took a final glance at my reflection in the mirror. I frowned at the absence of earrings dangling from my earlobes. Where many women felt naked without makeup on, for me, it was earrings. I hesitated, not wanting to ‘pretty’ myself up too much so that Frollo wouldn’t think it was all for him, then immediately chastised myself for the thought. I wouldn’t let his unfounded wishes and expectations dictate how I dressed or went about my life. Thankfully, unlike many of the ceremonial dresses, my personal outfits were more on the demure side, enough not to be perceived as an invitation. After putting on a pair of silver earrings with a large emerald stone matching my eyes, I stopped dallying and made my way down to the second floor of the spire.

  The minute the dining room doors opened, the potent wave of energy that struck me nearly made my knees buckle. Male, raw, divine, it coursed through me like the most powerful of aphrodisiacs. And the source of this irresistible power? Frollo.

  Standing with his back to me, looking through the large window at the plaza below, he seemed taller, broader, his muscles even more defined than in my memory. No doubt sensing my presence, he turned around to face me, and my breath caught in my throat. With the sun bathing his golden mane and pristine second skin of a shirt with its early morning rays, the Praetor appeared to glow with an angelic halo.

  My feet irresistibly carried me towards him. With an elegant, almost feline gait, my host met me halfway. I felt dizzy, intoxicated by his presence. My nipples hardened, and moisture pooled between my thighs as he stopped two steps in front of me, his male scent acting like a potent pheromone.

  I didn’t understand what was happening to me. All my misgivings about him, all the disdain he had elicited in me had evaporated. If he were to take me to his bedroom this instant, I would follow him gladly. Heck, if he tossed me on top of the table right now and ravished me, I would not only welcome it, I’d spur him on.

  Frollo extended a hand towards me, which I instinctively took. Lightning literally struck, electric tendrils swirling over our hands and skin when they touched. I gasped, my mouth parting in shock. A triumphant smile stretched his sensual lips. It should have upset me, but my stomach flip-flopped instead with desire. His blue eyes darkened as they lowered to stare at my lips. Mouth dry, my pulse increased as I waited with burning anticipation for him to kiss me.

  Just as he leaned forward, the kitchen door opened with two servants bringing out our food. I instinctively yanked my hand out of his grasp, my cheeks heating like a teen caught red-handed. Frollo clenched his jaw and pinched his lips. The hard glimmer in his eyes as he watched the servants approach doused the insane arousal that had robbed me of my sanity.

  With his palm pressed against the small of my back, Frollo led me to that imposing dining table. Midnight blue, with a single, pale blue, luminous line near each edge on the longer side, it contrasted sharply with the mostly white or pale colors of the room. Minimalist in its design, the rectangular room was simply adorned with a glowing symbol of Vesta on the left wall, with life-size statues of Vestals on each side of it. On the opposite side, framing the door into the kitchen, two Seraph statues held their swords before them with both hands, the tips resting on the ground.

  We settled at the dining table with me facing the window and Frollo sitting across from me. I didn’t know if it had been intentional so that the sun continued to give him that angelic halo, but I was grateful regardless. Although he continued to affect me in an irrational fashion, a bit of distance allowed me to collect my thoughts. This powerful aura surrounding the Praetor, the potent energy bubbling within him like a volcano on the verge of erupting, and his irresistible—almost charismatic—appeal were all the things I had expected to feel the first time we had met outside the landing pad.

  And yet, something didn’t quite add up. His energy spoke to mine, lifted it up and made it stronger. I had felt it last night during the Chant. Even as an Anointed, I’d never felt so powerful. But I could have sworn it hadn’t come from him. I’d been too focused on the song and on helping the Maidens attune to me to notice it at first. And then, a steady surge of energy had flowed through me. I’d felt invincible, like a goddess even.

  Thinking back on it now, it had almost felt like a spiritual connection to something grea
ter, magical… to whomever had been on the balcony.

  That made no sense.

  And right now, I could clearly see—feel—that Frollo had been the one enhancing me. Only a soulmate could create that kind of connection. I gazed upon the Praetor’s handsome face with new eyes. He was everything a woman could want. So why, even with the potent attraction that kept making me want to jump over the table to have my way with him, did this sense of unease continue to plague me?

  We remained silent while the servants filled our plates with a hearty breakfast of cold and hot meats, cheeses, hot breads, fresh fruits, steamed vegetables and sautéed potatoes. It wasn’t uncommon on the Nine Circles planets and moons for breakfast to be the main course of the day, with two lighter meals afterwards: lunch in late afternoon and dinner at sundown.

  “You look even more radiant this morning,” Frollo said with a purring voice, the minute the servants left the room.

  “Thank you,” I said after taking a large sip of black coffee to help me regain control of my jumbled thoughts and emotions. “How could I not after such a wonderful night’s sleep in a bed fit for a queen?”

  It had not been the answer he’d hoped for. The glint of displeasure in his eyes further helped me disperse the haze that was robbing me of common sense.

  “I’m glad you are enjoying the accommodations,” Frollo replied, being a surprisingly good sport, considering just moments ago, I’d have let him take my virginity right on the stone floor of the dining room. And he knew it, too. “Maybe Paris… and its people… will seduce you enough to make it a permanent stay.”

  “Time will tell,” I said, in a non-committal tone, while buttering a warm piece of whole wheat baguette. “But then, maybe the citizens of Paris will send me packing after the Festival,” I said teasingly, steering the conversation onto a safer topic.