The woman on her right must’ve been trying to get her attention for a while now.
“Calm down, new girl!”
The order was delivered in a serene voice that hinted at the speaker’s acceptance of her fate. She might not like what was going to happen but she couldn’t do anything to prevent it, so why worry, it seemed to ask. It wasn’t suggesting Amelia give up, though, and strangely enough, that helped Amelia to regain control over herself and stay her growing desolation.
She couldn’t think like that, couldn’t surrender to fear.
She would never accept that others could do with her as they pleased, Amelia promised herself. She wouldn’t let them – and they also weren’t making her think that she was less somehow. Things simply wouldn’t get to that point.
There wasn’t anything she could do for those prisoners right now, but they wouldn’t defeat her.
“My name isn’t new girl. It’s Amelia,” she said defiantly and with renewed strength, making it clear she wouldn’t fall in line, wouldn’t conform.
“For now,” the third woman quipped, causing Amelia to think she’d about given up, but then she added grudgingly, “I’m Zoane.”
Then Amelia’s other neighbor chimed in, “Amanthea.”
Amelia smiled.
They fell silent after that, and Amelia soon caught herself drifting off.
In spite her hit-induced nap the night before, she felt sleep beckoning to her.
She’d intended keep her eyes open and try to gather more information. She had to accept, though, that if she wanted to keep her wits about her the next day - or whenever the Fae arrived – she needed to rest, so Amelia let herself nod off again.
She spent the rest of the afternoon dozing on the cold, hard floor in her cell.
Chapter Five
The next morning barely dawned when Amelia awoke to the thumping of feet.
Light flickered down the corridor, faintly illuminating Amelia’s cell as well as that of the dark-haired young woman opposite her. The other prisoner had come to with a start, too, but unlike Amelia, she was already shaking like a leaf.
She either scares very easily, Amelia mused, or…
It’s happening, she realized with a start.
“What’s going on?”
Her faint query wasn’t likely to reach the ears of her collocutors from the night before, but Amelia still had to try and ask.
She had to know what to expect so she could be ready.
At the far end of the corridor, cell doors started banging open and, judging by the scuffing sounds, soft protests and outcries Amelia could perceive, prisoners were being hauled out.
The time had come.
Amelia scooted to the right side of her cell to get closer to the person who’d been more forthcoming with information.
“Amanthea,” she whispered urgently, then tried again louder, “Thea?”
“I haven’t been called that in a long, long while,” the other woman murmured back.
“Thea, what’s going on?” Amelia asked, repeating her question from before.
“The Fae must be here,” came the hesitant reply, followed by a loud bang, courtesy of a guard smashing his fist into the bars of a nearby cell.
“No talking!”
At the barked command, the shaking of the nameless woman on the other side of the corridor increased, but even Thea had the good sense to fall quiet. For the time being, Amelia decided to follow suit, and it wasn’t a minute too soon.
A mean-faced guard appeared in front of her cell and threw open the door, snapping at Amelia, “Get up!”
Amelia scrambled to her feet as hastily as she could. Her limbs had fallen asleep, though, and the sudden movement made her stumble. The combination of lack of food and a head injury wasn’t improving her balance, either.
Impatient, the guard stepped into her cell, grabbed her arm and hauled her out bodily. Then on they went, down the long corridor and up the stairs, but as they passed by the first cells, Amelia looked back, right at her cell neighbor with the snappy comments.
In the cold light of day, there was nothing left of the girl’s sarcastic mentality. With her huge brown eyes filled with dread, Zoane seemed even younger than Amelia, and she was trembling.
Since there was nothing else Amelia could do to help, she shot Zoane a big, bold grin, trying to convey that she shouldn’t give up – that she had to stay strong and never stop fighting so she could come out whole on the other end. Then they were out of eyeshot and around the corner at the end of the hall.
The guard marched Amelia up some flights of stairs then down another corridor, taking her farther and farther away from the cells. They strode on and on, in a long procession of strapping guards and stumbling women, until at last they stepped outside into the cool, misty yard.
The women who’d been led out before Amelia were already lined up in front of a long wall, about five paces apart. They weren’t bound but guards were stationed up on the wall as well as around the perimeter of the yard with their weapons at the ready. Amelia thought that was just for the sake of appearances, though, and not because they were actually expecting trouble.
Her guard hauled Amelia on, positioning her in front of the wall as required, then went off to take up his post. Already shivering with cold, Amelia furtively glanced down the line and spotted the emaciated dark-haired woman some distance away. Then Zoane was hauled into the yard and to her place further away. Amelia couldn’t spot Thea, though, because she’d never seen her face.
Turning her attention back to the yard, Amelia continued her perusal. The outside space they were in abutted on the monstrosity of a wall that surrounded the camp and was hemmed in by buildings on two sides. The stone structure they’d just exited, the one with the prison cells in the basement, was on their right, but Amelia also recognized the other building, form when she’d been taken for her health examination the day before.
Judging by the direction they’d arrived from then, the gate – and a possible escape route – had to be roughly to her left.
Unfortunately, that was as far as Amelia got with her assessment because the chief overseer chose that moment to enter the yard, engaged in conversation with a Fae who must’ve been Lord Bryon. Amelia couldn’t take in the Fae from afar without freeing her senses, but his posture practically shouted he was above mere humans, that he was more, different. Other.
As he came closer, the Fae’s energy swirled out, brushing up against Amelia.
She sucked in a breath.
To be in such close proximity to one of them …
She wanted to lunge at the Fae, to attack.
Rationally, Amelia knew that she wouldn’t get far from her spot. She wouldn’t even be able to reach the Fae Lord. Still, Amelia wasn’t sure that knowledge alone would’ve been enough to check her, but at that moment, the Fae finally got close enough for her to make out his features and the sight froze her into place.
The yard swam out of focus as those features transported her back years into the past, to a time of youthful mischief and unchecked smiles and pure, unadulterated happiness. To a time when they’d been free and so alive, and the world had been wide and open and full of possibilities. When a certain someone had always been by her side, even when in reality, she’d been far, far away – running full-tilt in a mystical forest, surrounded by living, blinding light, or turning in circles with arms thrown wide open while her merry little friends flitted around her. Memories from long ago rushed in, reminding her of a time when she hadn’t known loneliness.
She had neither been Amelia nor Lianna back then. Just Lia.
But that was all before. Gone and done forever, Amelia reminded herself as she slowly came back to the present, because it had all been ripped away from her by some greedy Fae. And now here she was, standing barefoot in the cold paved yard of a prisoner camp, awaiting the pleasure of one of those murdering bastards, waiting to see whether she’d be chosen to be their slave.
No more, Ame
lia promised herself. They wouldn’t get away with it much longer.
She managed to remain motionless, only fisting her hands at her sides and lifting her chin a bit, and even plastered an emotionless mask on her face. She wouldn’t lower her gaze like the other girls did at the Fae Lord’s scrutiny, though. She wouldn’t mumble and submit and shake with fright, but she also wouldn’t attack Lord Bryon right now, throwing away her life and her shot at revenge.
She’d continue on her path. She would bide her time, and if this Fae chanced to choose her –
Well, the fine, blessed day when she’d be able to exact her revenge might arrive sooner than she’d expected, after all, then.
She’d lay aside her rage. She’d endure.
It’d all be worth it in the end.
~ *** ~
Losing herself in childhood memories was a sure way to miss out on a lot of things.
As Amelia turned her focus back on the yard, she realized Lord Bryon was now pacing back and forth in front of the lineup, letting his sleazy gaze wander over the lean, practically starved figures of her fellow prisoners, all of them young women, and taking his time with his pick. Amelia hadn’t heard a word of what must have passed between the chief overseer and the Fae Lord since they’d been within hearing range. Neither had she noticed the cruel, perfunctory comments of the latter, but now she heard – she was aware of every last derogatory adjective and epithet the Fae applied to the prisoners.
Amelia clenched her jaw.
Those women weren’t mindless objects to buy without a care for their feelings. They weren’t dumb cattle or prize mares to be stroked and inspected at the prospective buyer’s leisure, even commanded to show their teeth.
The Fae Lord didn’t share Amelia’s opinion, though, as was evidenced by his behavior. Neither did the chief overseer who, despite being a human himself, kept grinning broadly whenever the Lord Bryon made a favorable remark or took notice of a becoming or useful quality.
Revolting pigs. That’s what they were. Vile, disgusting, poor excuses of men – or males. Still, at the moment, they were the ones with the might, so Amelia had to keep on pretending.
Trying to tune out the verbal abuse, she turned her regard to the guards lining the yard instead. They were all at attention, their focus on their superior and the honored guest.
Well, all except for one.
Amelia felt eyes on her – eyes that must have lingered on her form for quite some time. She could only blame her not taking notice of it sooner on her unforeseen reaction to the Fae’s presence. Now that she’d detected it she could practically follow it right back to a guard she’d met before, though.
It was the slimy fellow tasked with processing new arrivals.
He was leering at Amelia, regarding her with the same lecherous smile as last time, and it turned into an outright grin when he realized she was staring right back at him. His nasty face contorted with an expression that promised a wealth of unpleasant things coming Amelia’s way, and soon.
If it was up to this slimeball, it wouldn’t bode well for her here, but neither would it for any other attractive female in his custody.
Something to remember.
Right now, Amelia had to concentrate on a more immediate threat. She tucked away that tidbit of information, though, for a time when she could make use of it – and make the processing guard regret his ways –, just when the Fae Lord at last decided to make his way down the line stopping right in front of Amelia.
“What can you tell me about this one?”
Though the Fae’s query was directed at the chief overseer, he didn’t take his eyes off Amelia, and foolish or not, Amelia didn’t lower her gaze, either. She didn’t even turn her head so she wouldn’t be looking directly at him.
The chief overseer didn’t seem to mind the Fae’s lack of attention. He obliged his guest with the information he’d asked for without so much as a frown or a twitch of muscle.
“She’s quite new, my lord. Came in just yesterday,” he began, then hurried to add, “Aged seventeen.”
As if that would raise her value.
If that was the case, the Fae didn’t let it show. Instead, he chose to comment on the first part of the overseer’s description.
“Still untrained, then, I take it.”
“Yes, my lord. But untouched, of course. Just as you required.”
So that was it, then.
Not surprising, all things considered.
“Well, that can be taken care of, in time,” the Fae said with a slight smile, not specifying which part of the overseer’s description he was referring to.
He took in Amelia’s form and found it appealing, apparently. No wonder, really, since she’d only been at the camp for a short while and looked well-fed and healthy compared to most of the other prisoners. Moreover, even though Amelia wasn’t blessed – or cursed – with such womanly curves as some of her sex, her waist was so small that a man’s hands could easily span it and the thin shift didn’t hide much of her other attributes, either.
The Fae Lord’s gaze finally returned to Amelia’s face, taking in her well-formed lips, her upturned nose – and her defiant glare.
“What is she here for?”
“She was caught nosing about in the dark of night,” the chief overseer replied truthfully but without going into too much detail.
It wouldn’t do to lower the attractiveness of the merchandize.
“Such a dangerous pastime,” Lord Bryon crooned as his eyes clashed with Amelia’s, carrying a note of warning.
Most likely the only admonition she’d get.
Still, Amelia didn’t look away, and for the moment, the Fae chose not to do anything about her defiance. Having made his decision, he said instead, “My son will break her in soon enough. With that surprising color of hair, she’ll make a good gift. It’s quite rare in a human, and she is a beauty.” The Fae returned his attention to her. “And if she’s slow in falling in line … Well, we do need a slave for the initiation, as well.”
Whatever that was.
Lord Bryon briefly let his gaze glide over the other women again.
“For now, that one will do for that purpose.”
He pointed at a prisoner in her late twenties. Then he singled out two other female prisoners.
“I will take those, too.”
The prisoners who had been chosen were hauled out of the line, Amelia among them.
As she was marched off at a brisk pace, she glanced back, finding Zoane with her eyes just as before.
For better or worse, her newfound friend would be left behind. One day, she’d find her, though, and she’d find a way to free the sassy girl, Amelia promised herself.
This wasn’t the last time they’d see each other.
She tried to tell Zoane as much with her gaze as she was towed off without further ado and shoved into the back of yet another prisoner wagon.
Chapter Six
The following days brought a long, tedious journey.
Cooped up in the back of the prisoner wagon with the other three women, Amelia didn’t have much to do. Hatching an escape plan – or any other plan, really – wasn’t possible until she knew more about their final destination, and conversing was out of the question, seeing as there were always guards about, listening to every word the prisoners uttered in spite of their orders to remain quiet.
At least, they wouldn’t be on the road for weeks on end, Amelia thought as she again felt the stirrings of Fae power around her. Their company was readying to break camp and make another jump, taking them much farther from the human lands than it would’ve been possible by traditional means of travel.
Amelia supposed spacing had its advantages, at least if one wanted to get where they were going sooner rather than later. Their party was covering a lot if distance every day, yet journeying in leaps and bounds was taking its toll on the unwilling prisoners in the convoy.
It was clear that the humans were utterly unaccustomed to this abilit
y-fueled way of voyage, and every space-bending jolt left them bent over and clutching at their stomachs – or at any surface that seemed firm and steady in their harrowing reality.
Another circumstance that left them unable to talk.
The world streaking by at a rapid pace even left Amelia slightly nauseated and light-headed, and she’d known what to expect once they’d made the crossing to the Upper Kingdom. Still, in spite of feeling queasy, she couldn’t keep herself from staring outside in wonder and taking in the vivid colors and the majestic landscape. From gobbling up the familiar sights.
Crossing over into Fae territory had been unmistakable. While still within the bounds of nature, the land here was somehow more alive than in the human-ruled regions which were now all but bereft of magic. For Amelia, it’d felt like a slight but substantial veil had been lifted. Even the stroke of the wildflower-scented breeze felt different on her skin now, and Amelia couldn’t refrain from offering up her face to the rays of the warm sun that snuck into her moving prison.
The change in scenery and weather had to be evident even to those who didn’t possess heightened senses or magical abilities, though. While it was still early autumn in the Lower Kingdom, in the Upper Kingdom, spring was about to reawaken the natural world from its long winter sleep. Not to mention that since they’d traversed the narrow mountain pass that was renownedly the only passable route through the Great Mounts that formed a natural border between the Kingdoms, the ridges were now falling away in the distance.
They were deep within Fae territory, all right, and a small part of Amelia couldn’t keep from feeling like she was coming home at long last. The Upper Kingdom wasn’t her home, though, not really. It never had been.
Amelia had grown up in the country they’d just left behind, among the humans who now suffered the Fae’s cruelty, and the reminder of that desolate truth was enough for Amelia to curb her exhilaration.
It seemed it was advantageous that the journey was filled with nothing but silence, after all, since the monotony left her ample opportunity to shore up her defenses. Though Amelia was occasionally distracted – by the steady regard of the twenty-something woman sitting across from her.
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