by Sarah Thomie
I spat at him, giving him my answer.
“You will pay for that. How much pain can you handle, 13-87-22? I know your body is covered in scars from rebelling, so maybe I need to break you before trying to sell you again.”
I braced myself as he whipped me. Each time I heard the whistling of the whip flying through it air, I tried to relax my body so it would not hurt as much. I went into the place in my mind, where I could disassociate from the pain, somewhere I felt safe. There, I found myself in the spring near the Moon Clan village, using that image to keep myself from feeling everything he did to me. My body still screamed with each lash, but at least I was able to handle it better.
After what seemed like forever, the Seller stopped. He undid the chains, and I fell to the ground, my body giving out. He dragged me to the covered caravan and threw me inside. I could not fight him as he let me bleed on the ground of his caravan.
“Now, are you going to be a good slave, and do as you are told?” He smiled, telling me what he wanted from me.
I shook my head, more willing to bleed than to deal with what he was planning.
He shoved me out of his caravan, dragged me over to the whipping stake, and chained me back up. “Maybe you will be more agreeable after a night in the forest.”
I fell into a pained sleep, trying to use the time alone to regain some semblance of strength. Hours later, I woke up with the dawn, the smell of food in the air.
The Seller cooking something in the pot. He knew better than to let his slaves starve, so they ate his scraps. He caught me looking and brought the delicious smell over to me, in a bowl. “Want some?” he asked.
I looked at him, knowing that it was a trap. Yet, I could not muster up spitting in it to ruin it. “You just have to do as I say, and I will reward you.” He waved the bowl under my nose, letting the smell waft up to me. He went back to the fire, leaving the bowl on the ground in front of me. He watched me. “Beg like the dog you are, and I will let you have some.”
I kicked the bowl, knocking it over.
Rage covered his face, as he stood back up. He grabbed the bowl in one hand and the back of my head in the other. He smeared my face in the residue in the bowl, before going back to his fire. The other City Elves stayed silent, not wanting to incur the wrath of the whip.
After he finished eating, he looked at me. “I need to teach you some manners, it seems.” He looked to the other City Elves. “Maybe you could be the lesson for them.” He pulled them out of the cage, forcing them in front of me. He grabbed the silver ball with my voice and put it in my mouth. It warmed as it became a part of me once again. He punched me in the face, blood clouding my vision. “This is what awaits you if you think that you could be anything other than slaves!”
The whip whistled, and I screamed when it hit. My voice was rough, my vocal cords moving through their lack of use.
“Music to my ears,” he said happily. He kept whipping me, listening to my screams, until my throat was sore from it. “This is why yo—" His voice was cut off with the sound of blood. I could not see what was going on, but from the looks of the other City Elves, the Seller was dead.
They whispered, “Wood Elves.”
I wanted to get my hopes up, but I was so far away from the Moon Clan’s village that it could not have been them. Someone released me from the chains, catching me as I fell. Pain shot through me as the nerves reactivated in my back. I screamed out loud, feeling the body holding me stiffen.
“It is all right, Snow. I have you.” Howling Wolf leaned in closer to me, so I could see his face.
Tears ran down my face.
First Son spoke to the City Elves, “The slave trader is dead. You are all free now.”
“And where can we go?” the older man from the family asked him. “We are City Elves, slaves for humans. We have nowhere else to go! We have been branded, so if we are caught again, we will be punished like the Cursed One was.”
“You can go into the forest and make a new home for yourselves.”
“With what skills? We are domestic servants, not Wood Elves. We cannot survive outside the cities.” He looked over to me. “And we definitely do not want to be anywhere near her. She is a Kinkiller and a murderer.”
Howling Wolf roared, “Do not talk about our Snow like you know her!”
I touched his face. “Please, do not…” My voice was still rough and scratchy, but at least it was back. “They do not understand…”
“I understand well enough, Cursed One. You killed your last master and set the City Elves living with you on fire! You burned them to death, Kinkiller!” he shouted before turning to First Son. “You have caused enough damage here. We can only pray to the Goddess Above that She will protect us.”
First Son sighed as he walked back to Wolf and me. “It is hopeless.” He whistled lowly when he saw my back. “We will have to walk it, because anything more jostling, and her back will keep bleeding.”
Howling Wolf lifted me up. “Let us go home, Snow.”
“Get the ledger. Black cover, yellow pages.” I winced in pain as I shifted. First Son searched and grabbed the book then tucked it into his top.
The other warriors stared at the City Elves, then turned away. They could not understand why they would choose bondage over freedom. Howling Wolf held me close to him, and I listened to his heart beating in his chest. I wanted to sleep, but every time I tried, he would jolt me. “I am sorry, but you cannot fall asleep until Grandfather tells us that you will wake up again.”
I do not know how long we walked, but the lashes in my back scabbed over, the blood deciding to stop flowing from them.
“Wolf! First Son!” Sparrow’s voice called from ahead of us. “Is that… Snow?” she asked as Howling Wolf carried me. “There is so much blood… I will get Grandfather ready for her.”
Grandfather gasped when he saw me, rushing Howling Wolf to set me on the table. He set me face down, not wanting to put pressure on my back. They tore away the destroyed shirt and Howling Wolf cursed, “That bastard.”
“I hope you killed him for this.” There was a hardness in Grandfather’s voice that I never heard before.
“He is dead,” I confirmed then fell into a violent coughing fit. Blood dripped from my mouth, and I wondered if it was because my vocal cords were damaged beyond repair.
“Sh, Silent Snow.” Grandfather touched my hair “Just rest now.” He turned to Howling Wolf. “Grab Sparrow and let us get started.” With that, he put a cup of sleeping poison to my lips, and I drank until there was nothing left. I let the darkness take me into a painless sleep.
Chapter 15
I woke up to the sound of snoring. I tried to move, but my body was still in pain. I knew that I was naked, but a light sheet was covering me. I looked to see Howling Wolf asleep in the chair next to me. I gave him a low whistle, and he jolted up.
He saw that I was awake, and he lightly touched my face. “We did what we could, but you will have to be careful for a while. The skin is trying to knit itself back together, but because of how deep the lashes were, it will take more time than normal.” He got closer to me, and grief filled in his eyes. “I am so sorry, Snow.”
“Why?” I asked.
He gave me a small smile. “Because if I did not push you into the brink of exhaustion, you would never have been taken. Sparrow told us what happened. First Son had just challenged me for the Test of Taking, when we saw her take you into the forest. She said that you heard voices and told her to climb a tree to be safe. Then she watched as they overpowered you and knocked you out. They did not stay in the area long, so as soon as it was safe, she ran to tell us that you were gone. We searched for three days for any sign of you.”
He grabbed my hand carefully. “Then a scout said there was a slave trader travelling in the area, and we took the chance. We heard you screaming, though we did not know it was you at the time. When we realized that he was whipping someone, First Son put an arrow through him, while I got you down from
that contraption he had you chained in. You were covered in so much blood, and we were not sure how much you had lost.” He kissed the back of my hand. “Snow, can you ever forgive me for this?”
I whispered, “Yes.”
He stood up and kissed my hair. “Get some more sleep, Snow. I will keep watch, so you will be safe.”
I nodded and felled back into the dreamless healing sleep.
The next time I woke up, I felt a little better. Howling Wolf stayed by my side the whole time I slept. Sparrow came in a few times to check on me and the wounds. First Son brought food and water for Howling Wolf and I, though I could not eat normally without wanting to throw it back up. A couple days of more rest, and Grandfather told Howling Wolf to take me to the spring to get the blood washed off me.
He carried me to the spring and set me down in the water then slid in himself. He took care of me, helping me to wash the blood and gross off me. In the water, I felt like I could handle myself, so I carefully pulled away from him, letting the water keep me light. Howling Wolf’s eyes filled with worry as the water around me tinged red. I turned so he could see my back, the wounds not leaking blood.
After he felt like I was clean enough, he patted my back dry with a cloth, letting me dry my front. Grandfather gave me a very light linen dress to wear while healing. Sparrow told Wolf to take me to her house after we were done, but he took me to his instead. He flopped me on the soft bed, letting me hog the single pillow. He sat in the chair while I slept, and a few times, I caught him asleep in it.
After a few more days, I told him to sleep in the bed, because he looked like his back was sore from trying to sleep in the chair. “You have already seen and slept next to me naked,” I reminded him, before getting into a coughing fit.
Grandfather was not worried about me coughing up blood, until he knew that my back would heal fully, just adding to the myriad of scars. Once he deemed me healed enough to be able to walk without help, he checked my vocal cords with his magic. He found that I was right in thinking they were bleeding because they were not used for so long. He believed that as long as I do not overdo it, they will heal, and I could speak normally.
A month after my abduction, I healed enough to go through the basic warmups with Howling Wolf, to help get my muscles stretched out and limber. Grandfather said that they would also help to strengthen my back, so he allowed it.
One day, Howling Wolf and First Son sat me down alone. “What did the City Elves mean by calling you a Kinkiller?”
I looked at the two of them, wondering if it would help them understand me better. “Easier to show than tell.” I walked them over to Grandfather’s. “Blood fire memory magic,” I told the older man.
“All right, what is this about?” he asked more of the males than me.
“She was called a Kinkiller by the City Elves that were with her in the Seller’s travelling caravan. They claimed that she burned the other City Elves alive,” First Son explained. “She said that it is easier to show rather than tell us.”
Grandfather’s face softened as he looked at me. ”You never told them?”
I shook my head. “Could not.”
“Are you sure? Bringing those up like this could make them harder to forget,” he asked, compassion in his voice.
“No, but they need to see to understand,” I answered.
“Well, grab Sparrow since she has been asking questions about how City Elves would refuse to fight back against their slavery,” he told First Son, who ran out the door to do as the older male asked.
He returned with Sparrow, who looked confused. “What is going on? First Son said it was urgent.”
“Snow wants to show us something,” Howling Wolf explained. “Grandfather said to bring you, so you could see why some would choose slavery over rebelling.”
“Is everyone ready?” Grandfather asked before taking us into the room with the large fire. I stayed as far away from it as possible, still not able to get close without an assault of memories. He cut my finger and the blood dripped into the fire.
“Show us why City Elves do not rebel, and why you are called Kinkiller, Silent Snow,” the Elder came in and commanded.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the smell of burning blood. I looked to see the smoke rising, revealing my memories to them.
“Bring me 13-87-22,” the master told one of his scantily clad female slaves.
They dragged me into the room, as I fought to get away. I knew what was to come, since this master was known for buying and breaking virgins. I was maybe fourteen hundred years old as I struggled against those who carried me. It took four of them, each holding a limb to get me even close to the room.
“Chain her,” he told the other slaves as they threw me onto the bed. I tried to get up and away, but they held me down. They chained my wrists and ankles to the bed. I screamed silently, trying to get them to release me. “Leave us,” he told his slaves, and with that they escaped into the hall. The master laid next to me. “Such beautiful hair, 13-87-22.” He held it to his nose and inhaled its scent.
I looked at him, tears falling from my eyes. In silence, I begged for him to stop touching me.
“Do not worry. You will learn to love what I am going to teach you.” He leaned over me, pressing his lips to mine.
I bit him on the lip, drawing blood.
He jerked back, slapped me across the face.
I glared at him through my blurred vision.
He pulled away from me, ripping the snaps on the dress he required his slaves to wear to easier access. I spat at him when he came over me. He hit me again, and the bruise on my cheek darkened.
“Maybe this will make you more amenable.” He got up, and I saw him grabbing something and pouring it into a cup. He came back to me and said, “Drink this, 13-87-22.” He poured it into my mouth, but I refused to let it get down my throat; the taste of the bitter herb of the sleeping poison stayed on my tongue. He stopped, and I spat the disgusting fluid back at him, my blood mixed in. He hit me a third time, and forced my mouth open with his hands. He poured the drink in and then hit me, so I ended up swallowing some. Not a lot, but it was enough.
I tried to fight off the effects of the sleeping poison, but I was not able to. Everything became a haze before I fell asleep.
I woke up later, my body hurting and sore.
“Take her away,” the master commanded his slaves.
When they pulled me up warm blood dripped from between my thighs.
“Next time you fight me, you will taste the whip, 13-87-22,” he told me as the males carried me passed him.
The memory skipped to another time the master had me called into his chambers. I came in, almost willingly. My back had been whipped raw, and if I did not answer his summons, it would be worse. Along the way, something cold press against me. I turned to see a Snow Cat spirit drawing me into another room. I followed her into the room, where I gasped. I saw her pelt and those of kittens lying around the room. I touched it before looking to the spirit.
Her cold voice came into my mind. “I can give you the strength you desire to fight back, but I need something in return.”
I nodded to her, leaning forward to accept her into me. That’s when my eyes became blue for the first time. With the Snow Cat’s spirit in me, I walked into my master’s bed chamber. My hair covered my face and eyes.
He did not notice the change in me. “Come to me, 13-87-22. Be the good slave I know you can be.”
I stepped up to where he sat.
He touched my face, moving my silver hair away from my eyes. “Why are they blue?” he asked as I let the Snow Cat launch my body at him.
I tackled him onto the bed and placed my hands around his throat. He tried to fight me off, but the strength of the Snow Cat was too much for him to escape from. His eyes rolled back into his sockets, falling unconscious.
I stopped before he died, knowing that I would be killed if he passed. The Snow Cat howled for vengeance against
him. I pushed her down, telling her that he would die, but not like this. Instead, I went over to where the sleeping poison was and grabbed a cupful of it. I poured the drink down his throat, his body swallowing it without his knowledge. I laid his face down in the pillow, letting him suffocate himself. The Snow Cat was angry at her denial of killing him herself, but she accepted my decision. I left the master there to die, going back to my quarters, where the other slaves stayed away from me, hoping they would not get punished next.
The memory changed to show a myriad of other ones, each one showing the scars that I gained from rebelling, including those I got from saving other slaves. These slaves did not know what I had done for them, so they all learned to stay away from me. Fear of pain was a strong motivator to stay compliant to the humans. To me, it became a lover, a dancer who I embraced in exchange for thoughts of freedom and taking small pleasures of disobeying the masters I served.
I let the memories show the masters I killed over the centuries. A female master who drowned in her bath after she killed a small child who had spilled red wine during the dinner. A male who was stomped by his horse, after torturing a stable lad. Another male who died on the hunt when he took me out as bait. A female who died during childbirth when the midwives were worrying about the baby. She died of blood loss when I stitched her up incorrectly. I relived their deaths, and I let the memories show them how I became the Cursed One, since masters seemed to die around me in various accidents.
Then came the final one. The master had heard from his lying guards that there was talk of a rebellion. The master dragged me up to the tallest tower, since he was told that I was the leader of it.
He bent me over the window, forcing me to watch as he set the wooden buildings where the City Elves lived on fire. The heat and the smell of burning flesh was strong as it hit me. He raped me from behind, forcing me to watch the flames and listen to the screams below. When he finished, he grabbed my hair and pulled my back to his chest. I dropped to my knee, rolling my shoulder down, and threw him out the window, using the same move Howling Wolf wondered where I learned. I watched and heard him crash into one of the burning buildings below.