by Chanda Hahn
I groaned in embarrassment. I couldn’t keep doing this. It would destroy me being so near Liam. I could easily fall in love with him, and then it would end in heartbreak. I couldn’t have him. I couldn’t ask anyone to tether themselves to me permanently like that. It was no way to live, to constantly be touching me to keep me sane.
Grumpily, I crawled out of bed and saw that I was still fully dressed. I made my way back to my room and Liam called after me. “Meet you downstairs shortly.”
I nodded and quickly changed and gathered my things before heading down. Liam was already waiting for me at a table by a window.
The server, a young girl about my age, brought his drink to him. Her smile faltered when she saw me.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were with someone.” Oh, we hardly ever get any single good-looking guys. I should have known.
“Olivena, meet Aura, my sister.” Liam gave me a sly smile. She looks adorable.
My shoulders hunched as I picked up Liam’s thoughts that must’ve been directed to our server.
Oh, sister, then. Maybe I could convince him to meet me in the back stable. “Oh, how do you do?” Olivena bobbed her head. “What can I get you to drink?”
“Um, whatever,” I said nonchalantly.
“Whatever is coming right up.” Stars above, the sister is dim. Olivena gave Liam a sly wink.
Liam leaned back and sighed. I can’t wait. Maybe I should skip breakfast and head right to the stables.
My head was pounding as I had to witness their flirting and obvious rendezvous they had planned. Liam noticed my balled fists.
“Sorry, I forgot.” He immediately reached his leg across and leaned it against mine and the thoughts muffled, but it was too late.
I stood up, my chair screeching across the wood floor. “I need some air.”
“I’ll go with you.” He moved as if to follow.
“No, I want to be alone.”
Liam sat back down. “But what about—” He pointed to my head.
I spoke through gritted teeth. “I’ll be fine the farther I get from you two lovebirds.”
Liam frowned. “What do you mean, lovebirds?”
“Olive, er, Olivena, or whatever her name is, likes you. She is even willing to take a tumble in the stables with you.”
Liam’s serious face broke into an outburst of laughs. “You’re jealous.”
“No. I just don’t want to hear you two moon for each other in my head anymore.” I stormed out of the inn and marched across the road to an empty field and kept walking. If they were going to meet in the stables, then I wanted to be as far away as possible. Yes, maybe I was jealous. But I didn’t want to be privy to their intimate conversations.
I sat on a hill that faced north. I could see the mountains, and through the mountains—a day’s ride on the other side—was the Marshwam pass. That is where we were going to meet the rest of his troops. I had to figure out what in the world I was going to do. I needed a plan. A way to stay sane surrounded by the troops and what would happen if there were actual fighting, and people dying. I knew I might not come out of this whole. My mind could be permanently damaged or broken into a hundred pieces.
I pulled at the grass angrily and stacked it in a pile. It was better to live saving others than to die never having truly lived. I was doomed to live a shortened life, anyway. So why couldn’t I do the most goodwill while I was here?
A human shadow passed over me.
“Go away, Liam. I said I wanted to be alone.” I stiffened as the dark aura hit me. It wasn’t Liam.
“Well, look at this, Bart? Have you ever seen hair as white as this, or that skin?”
“No, I haven’t, Smitty.” She will surely fetch us a nice price.
I turned to look over my shoulder at the two men who hovered over me. A tall, gangly man with a patch of hair under his lip, and the other round with balding hair and ropes in his hands.
My body screamed at me to run, but my mind froze, and I became paralyzed like a terrified doe.
“It’s a pity about the bruise.”
Bruise, what bruise? I thought as his fist connected with my face.
Chapter Twelve
Dirt rained down on me as I bounced around in the darkness. I opened my eyes and winced. One of them was swollen shut, and I could taste blood in my mouth.
The blighter had hit me. I tried to move, but was gagged, bound, and pressed inside of what I could only assume was a pine box. Was it a coffin? More dirt rained down from above, and I feared I was being buried alive until I remembered one of the men mentioned something about a price. They must need me alive. I tried to gauge my surroundings. As my one good eye adjusted, I could see daylight filtering through the box as hay and dirt rained down on me from above. Then my body sensed the rocking motion and the dip as we hit potholes.
I was in the back of a wagon, and judging by the area of the small space, I assumed I was in a hidden compartment used for transporting black market items—or in my case, women. This must be what happened to the other girls. I tried to cast aside my fear and panic as the men in the front spoke quietly among themselves.
“Maybe we should keep this one for us instead of turning her over to Madam,” Bart said.
“Nah, you saw the hair and eyes on this one. Madam is specifically looking for those special ones. Besides, we can always have our turn with her after they have broken her in,” Smitty argued.
“I like it when they fight. They’re not fun when their spirits are gone.”
“Shush it. I don’t want any more talk like that,” Smitty commanded.
I pounded my fist against the flat board, and they laughed.
“Someone’s awake,” Bart said.
Smitty pounded his fist against the side. “Stop that racket, or we’ll pull over and beat you to a pulp.”
I stopped pounding and laid there debating what to do. My only plan was a stupid one. One that would probably end up with me dead and burned to a crisp, but it seemed the better alternative than ending up in a brothel. Reaching my left hand as far away from my body as I could, I worked my fingers through the crack of the floorboard and whispered.
Fiergo.
A small spark started and quickly caught the hay on fire. I pulled the neckline of my dress up to cover my mouth from the smoke and waited for them to notice.
“Bart, the wagon’s on fire!”
The horses screamed, the wagon stopped, and I heard them scrambling to try to douse the flames. I kicked at the floorboards but could only move my legs a few inches as I searched for a weak point. My lungs burned as I breathed in more smoke and ash rained down on me, burning my skin.
Smitty crawled on top of the wagon and I heard the jangle of keys as he unlocked the hidden compartment. The door swung open, and he reached down to pull me out. I stumbled and fell and had to be dragged out of the wagon. My entire plan relied on reading them correctly. They wouldn’t let me die.
As I lay in the grass, choking and coughing. I watched as one tried to unload the burning hay, while the other had unhitched the horses and was trying to keep them from bolting.
I turned and raced for the woods. Hoping that I could get a far enough head start. My feet and lungs betrayed me. My lungs burned, and with every step it felt they were constricting tighter. I fell to my knees and passed out.
Smoke! I was choking on smoke. Gasping, I sat up. Covering my mouth and nose with my arm, to ease my breathing. My eyes were crusted, and my throat raw from my near-death escape. But I was alive.
Rubbing at my eyes, I tried to figure out what the horrible cloying smell was that was cloaking the room. I couldn’t place it, but instinctively knew it wasn’t good for me.
They replaced my red dress with a soft pink silk skirt with long slits. My skinny legs peaked through the fabric, the dark bruises on my knees stark compared to my pale skin. The short top scooped low, leaving my neck and shoulders bare while barely covering my stomach. Bandages covered the burns on my arms and my wrists, w
hile my ankles were bound with silk.
The room spun, and I saw a woman sitting in the corner next to a lamp. The golden incense lamp had stars inside, and the scent was drugging me.
“Shh, my sleeping beauty. I’ve waited a long time for one like you to come along again.”
“No.” I fought against the drugs. “Don’t call me that.”
“Hush, I know how fond you are of that name. I plucked it from your memories. What’s his name? The tall golden-haired one, Liam. He called you that.”
The woman came closer, her hair the same pale color as mine. But her eyes were soft pink, like a rat. She looked to be in her forties. “You may call me Madam Esme, and I’m like you—an empath.”
My head bobbed on my shoulders as I tried to follow her movement around the room. She wore a silk dress with a long blue floor-length shawl.
“How are you still . . .”
“How have I survived this long without going crazy?” She laughed and puffed on a pipe that connected to a bubbling clear vase. She gave a puff and pink smoke tendrils filled the air. “It’s easy. I learned to not care.”
“How?”
She gestured to her pipe. “I no longer feel anything, and soon you will too.”
“Y-you’re mad,” I stuttered.
“Yes, I probably am. After all, our kind turn out that way. Except me. I’ve outlived them all.” She took another long puff. “I like you, Aurora.”
“Aura,” I corrected.
“Not anymore. In my establishment, we will call you Aurora.”
My head bobbed toward the silk-covered windows. Just outside the door, I could see a man standing guard.
“W-what?” The incense was making it hard for me to form words, but it dulled my senses and I couldn’t hear her thoughts. In fact, I couldn’t hear anyone’s. I was numb to it all, and for the first time since Liam, I was at peace.
“It’s my brothel, and you will be my newest addition.” She came and ran her painted fingers along my cheek. “Such a pity that I can’t debut you tonight. I’ll have to wait until your eye and the bruises on your body heal. I can’t have my star attraction sullied. And it was so nice of you to save yourself for me. I can’t tell how surprised I was to find out you’re a virgin.”
“You’re the devil,” I spat out and tried to fight against my bonds. “How dare you . . .”
“Relax, Aurora.” Esme came forward and pulled at the blue and purple drawstring pouch. Her hand reached inside. “You will eventually come to accept this new life. You will see. You’ll even thank me for it. Because empaths, even with our powers nullified, can’t help but please others.”
“I will never be a whore,” I gritted out, fighting against the fog. I tried to form a spell in my mind. “Incendi-”
Esme took out the powder and blew it in my face. I inhaled, and it immediately made me numb.
“Your magic is no more.”
The spell died on my tongue.
Esme sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs. “That, my dear, is a taste of devil’s breath. I heard about what you did to Bart and Smitty’s wagon. Not only are you an empath, but also trained in magic. And well, I can’t have you burning down my establishment. I will just have to keep you under heavy sedation at all times.” She patted my cheek. “Now be a good girl for Esme and go to sleep.”
I collapsed on the silk pillows, and my eyes closed against my will.
I woke up to someone stroking my leg. I jerked away and recognized the young woman with dark hair and freckles from the missing poster. Her eyes were glassy as she dipped a sponge into a bowl of water and reached out to run it over my arms.
“Hello?”
She didn’t answer.
I looked into her dilated eyes, and what I found terrified me, or rather it was the lack thereof. Her mind gone, locked away deep inside her. Was that my fate? Eventually my mind would succumb to the drugs?
“Can you help me?”
She wrung the sponge out and dabbed it gently on my face around my eye. The silk curtain moved to the side, and Madam Esme stepped inside and moved over to the lamp. She replaced the incense, and the drugged fog filled my small room again.
“Good news, Aurora. After the initial query to my secret buyers, your beauty may have caught the attention of some very rich and powerful men. Offers have already begun pouring in. Your injuries healed pretty well, and with a bit of makeup, we can cover the bruises and burns.” She held a pink paper in her hands and waved it under my nose, and I caught a whiff of rose water. She fanned herself with the paper and grinned.
“I will have to make the most of this debut. Maybe have something special planned. I know. I will inform everyone it will be an auction.”
“N-no,” I muttered. My tongue was thick, and I struggled to form words.
Esme frowned. “Now, don’t be difficult. I want you to be the perfect little angel for me.”
“I will never stop fighting,” I seethed and pulled at my bindings.
“Oh dear. I was afraid of this.” She reached into her pouch and blew the stronger dose of the hated devil’s breath in my face.
I was prepared and held my breath, pretending to come under the effects. I let my head droop and shoulders slouch.
“You think you’re so smart, holding your breath, but I’ve been doing this a long time. What do you think Tamara is bathing you with? It’s the same drug. It’s already in your bloodstream. And in the incense, and your food. But get some rest. Your debut will be in a few days’ time, and you will make me very rich.”
She was right. I could feel my eyelids drooping as I fell into a drugged slumber.
Night came. Then another day. Then night again.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been drugged or kept as a prisoner of Madam Esme’s. Time did not matter. When food came, it wasn’t at inconsistent times, or I was too drugged to remember eating. It was only by the yellow-green hue of my bruises that I was able to estimate that I had been a prisoner for close to a week.
Seven days and no one had come for me. Liam hadn’t found me like he promised. But then again, maybe I had dreamed of him. Maybe everything was a dream. The longer I was there, the more real this life became, and my other life was just a fantasy.
A candle on my bedside table had flickered out and the tip of the wick faded from red to black. Slowly, I raised my head and focused on the wick.
“Fiergo.”
Nothing. The trails of smoke disappeared.
“Fiergo,” I said more firmly. The wick didn’t even glow or flicker. I plopped my head back onto my pillow, feeling helpless. My magic was truly gone.
“It’s the drugs.” Tamara came in with a basket full of cosmetics. She sat by my bedside and set out powders on the table. “The devil’s breath makes you compliant to the power of suggestion. They compel you to obey.”
“You speak?”
She nodded. “Today is a good day. I can remember more of myself, of who I am.”
“And the other days?” I asked.
“Not so much.” She sighed and pulled out an expensive jar of perfume. Her hand trembled slightly, and it clattered against the wood. She clasped her hands together to keep the shakes from a minimum.
“You’re having a withdrawal,” I said. I knew the signs, having seen my mother treat addicts before.
“Yes,” she breathed out. “After a few days, I say I’m fine. I can go without, but by nightfall, I’m begging for more.” She dropped her head in shame. “It’s too much. This place is a nightmare. The drugs are the only escape we have. When we no longer feel, we forget.”
“Then let’s escape. Untie my hands, and we will escape right now.”
Her head rose and those soulful brown eyes filled with hope, but then I saw it die. She pulled out a brush and placed it next to the perfume bottle.
“We can’t. They filled the place with guards and powerful men since tonight is your debut.”
“Untie me, please,” I begged, but she shook her head.
“There’s no escape, and if you try to run away, you disappear.”
“Disappear? Maybe it’s because the girls escaped.”
“Not disappear as in escape, more like killed and dropped in a hole.”
“Please, Tamara. Help me,” I whispered, hearing a commotion coming down the hall toward our room.
“I can’t. I’ll get in trouble.” Her eyes flickered to the door just as it opened, and Madam Esme stepped through.
“I thought you would be finished by now, Tamara?”
Tamara picked up a porcelain dish of face powder and applied it to my face.
“Not too much. I want her to look innocent,” Esme ordered.
She turned to me. “Tonight is the night. You have gathered quite the honored crowd. Some of my best clients with the biggest purses will be here. They’re all so excited to meet you.”
I screamed internally as I underwent hours of treatment under the watchful eye of Madam Esme and Tamara, or her guards. I bathed with bath salts and perfume, hair brushed and curled. My nails were painted, and my lips decorated with a soft rouge. Tamara brought a mirror to me and I saw my reflection and I didn’t recognize the woman before me. My white blonde hair shimmered like moonlight, my pale skin looked like alabaster. A soft lavender veil draped across my mouth and they accented my eyes with charcoal to make them look bigger. The drugs dilated my pupils, and I looked like a scared doe.
Madam Esme returned, wearing a velvet red dress with gold bangles on her wrists. Her hair curled and pinned on top of her head. Her nails were a deep blood red. She sauntered over to me and lifted my chin and gazed into my eyes.
“Because I know that you’re the fighting kind. I’ve prepared a special dose for you.” She waved in the guard, and a man came with a long needle attached to a glass jar. He pricked it into my skin, and I watched helplessly as they pumped the drug into my system.
“Listen to my command, Aurora, your powers are gone. You’re nothing more than a slave to man’s desire. Aura is no more.”
I would have cried, if I could, but even my body didn’t obey.