by JD Franx
“Evening Master, Mistress. Welcome to the Far Exotic, if you require anything, please let me know. Would you like something to drink tonight? We have the best wine Dasal has to offer, a local red from the Yusatan river valley, or we have a red and a white from the western mountain steppes of DormaSai, in the Southern Kingdom. It is very expensive, but I’ve been told it’s superb. Or perhaps something else?”
Kyah smiled at the enthusiastic young waitress. “The red from DormaSai will be fine,” she answered.
The young girl left, leaving them alone. “We probably shouldn’t drink that wine,” Kael suggested, “I would bet nearly everything dollar we have it will be drugged.” Nodding her agreement, he saw Kyah was busy surveying the building from their vantage point.
“Well,” she said. “I doubt it will harm you, seeing as how a dozen tribal sleep darts gave you not so much as a single yawn, but yes, better safe than not. Lircang Yorcali is a very dangerous man. It will not be sleep poison in the wine,” she said, still taking in the details of the large building. Staring intently at the far side of the room, she continued speaking. “Where do you think they keep the slaves that will be up for auction? We need to find out where they are kept.”
Kael followed her eyes around the main floor, taking into account the raised level where they sat, when it dawned on him.
“Holy crap,” he whispered. “Kyah, this is the auction house, I’d bet money on it.”
Turning back to give him a look, as if to ask he felt all right, Kyah shook her head. He ignored her and continued. “When I was ten years old, my father... The man who raised me, took me to several cattle sales at the local auction mart near our farm. The auction floor was always lower than where the buyers sat, just like in here. We’re sitting on the buyer’s level.”
“If that is so, then the slaves might well be in this building, or one nearby.”
“Then maybe we should just ask, Lircang did say we had full access...” He winked, garnering a nod.
The waitress returned with their wine, placing it on the table. Kael touched her hand. “Miss?”
“Yes, Master,” she replied, bowing.
“I know Master Yorcali is not here tonight, but do you have a boss we can speak with for a moment,” he inquired, not realizing what he had done.
“Of course, Master. I am sorry if I have done anything to offend you or if I took too long getting your wine, please...”
“Whoa, slow down,” he said, interrupting her. “You’ve done nothing wrong. That’s not why I want to talk to your boss. We’re just wondering if we could discuss some permanent companionship for when we leave the city.” He smiled a deviant’s grin as best he could.
Still way over his head, Kael turned a shade of red when the waitress pouted, staring at him with big brown eyes. “Do you and your wife not find me pleasing, Master?” she asked, on the verge of tears.
“Jesus, son of god,” he muttered. “How did I get myself into this... Give me strength.” Exasperated, he looked to Kyah for help.
Shaking her head, she took the waitress by the hand. “My dear, you are very pleasing to both of us, and we would love to have you with us for the evening, but right now we are looking for someone like you, whom we can bring with us when we leave tomorrow, understand?” Kyah explained. “Now, please go get your boss, so we can discuss our business. I promise you will receive no trouble,” Kyah continued, sliding a gold nugget into the girl’s palm.
“Yes Mistress, right away.” The waitress’ smile returned as she bowed and left.
“What kind of a screwed up place is this that would cause that young girl to act like that?” Kael asked, more of himself than anyone else. “She can’t be more than sixteen.
Kyah shook her head, but answered anyway. “This is slavery. Many slaves pay a heavy price for failure in this world so they do whatever it takes to avoid it. This is a city where slaves are not permitted names, remember?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for saying that without thinking.” His words could only remind Kyah of the loss of her family for failing the Dead Sisters when she was younger than their waitress.
The waitress returned with an older woman, who was wearing a tight fitting red dress and a lot of make-up, something Kael had not seen before arriving in Dasal.
“Shareese tells me you wish to speak with me, young man. My name is Dahlea, and the daily operation of Master Yorcali’s business is my responsibility. I assure you I am a very busy woman, so what may I do for you?”
“My name is Kael, Miss Dahlea. My wife and I would like a tour of the contents of yesterday’s auction. We’ll be looking to leave with a purchase or two within the next day,” he said, doing his best to imitate what would be her more exclusive, but sleazy clients.
“You’ll be able to see the contents the morning before the auction like everyone else, I assure you, Master Kael. Until the pirates in the harbour are dealt with, the auction’s contents are off limits, I promise you,” she argued.
Kael’s anger flared at her arrogance when speaking to, what was to her, a preferred guest of Lircang Yorcali.
“I can promise you, Miss Dahlea,” Kael said, in threatening voice, as he stood up from the table and met her face to face. “That I have already discussed our requirements with my friend, Lircang, and he has promised me that you will show my wife and I whatever we want to see, as well as sample any contents we wish to before the auction. Do I make myself clear? Or do I have to walk to Lircang’s mansion and bring him down here to give you an order I know for a fact he has already given you?”
Not realizing that his anger was getting out of hand, Kael swallowed a powerful urge to choke the madame. The vines of his death-flower bored through his flesh, and the two that had been working their way up the front of his throat crested on the point of his chin and wormed their way to his bottom lip before sprouting the barbed thorns that always followed.
The look of sheer terror on Dahlea’s face as she watched the vines calmed his anger enough for the foreign magic to stop and for him to regain control of himself.
Kyah’s hand slid down Kael’s arm as she whispered by his ear. “Easy, love, she just wants to be sure who we are, right, Miss Dahlea?”
Still shaking from fear, the madame did her best to smile. “Yes, absolutely, there’s no need for violence or threats. I’m aware of Master Yorcali’s orders. I was just very busy when he was here and I did not catch the name he gave. I apologize, Master Kael. If you would come with me, I will be happy to show you what was originally up for auction yesterday. Please,” she offered gesturing them to follow.
Miss Dahlea led them downstairs, along with one of her guards who followed from a distance. The basement level of the building was just as large as the main floor, but was lined by corridors with rooms side-by-side like a prison from Kael’s own world. The doors were made from solid iron with only a slit at waist level, probably used to pass food to the hungry slaves.
The small string that Kael had desperately been holding on to in order to retain his humanity began to jerk and pull away from him, knowing there was nothing he could do to help these poor people. Thoughts of blood and violence flashed inside his head, followed by the strong urge to kill every perverted and sadistic patron and guard in the building. Kyah grasped his hand as he shook his head in order to clear the insane images from his mind. It seemed that killing was often becoming an easier way to deal with problems, and it scared him that such a thing was bothering him less and less.
“How many were up to be auctioned? What sexes and races?” Kyah asked, with a firm voice, in an attempt to ground Kael to the here and now.
“There were twenty-three, Mistress. Seven female, and sixteen males. All the young girls are elf, except for two—both are Human, though one is horribly ugly and weak. I doubt she’d last long on the road with you. Four of the males are elf as well; the other twelve are Human. Forgive me, Mistress Kyah, but are you not warm with that heavy hood up?”
Kyah slowly p
ulled the hood back, revealing the facial markings they had placed there earlier. Dahlea’s gasp of fear and surprise made Kael smile.
“It’s a long story,” he offered, “but you understand why she prefers to keep the hood up, even indoors. Less panic, and no riots or lynchings that I hear the Dasalan people are so fond of. For my wife and I, killing large groups of people can be... distasteful, when there’s no profit in it. You understand if the hood stays up. I’m in the mood for pleasure tonight, not pain,” Kael said.
Dahlea shook as she tried to nod at the obvious threat. “Of course, Master Kael,” she answered, still shaking as she bowed. Kyah returned the hood to her head to avoid striking further panic.
“Show us the Elvehn girls first,” Kael requested, purposely to avoid any suspicions later when questions were asked, but only got a funny stare from Dahlia.
“No need to be so civilized,” Kyah said, quickly. “This is Dasal, after all. The proper term of elf will suffice.” Kyah’s response nearly turned his stomach, but he was glad she caught it in time to avoid ruining the charade. Lycori’s face flashed inside his mind, the memory of when he arrived in Talohna almost six months before and how she told him that elf was a derogatory term used by slavers. It also reminded him of what she told him of DormaSai.
“You’re right, of course. I forget that our magic status permits us a different insight toward slavery.”
“Oh, you are from DormaSai then?” Dahlia asked.
“Originally, yes,” Kael said, smiling in an effort not choke on his own words. “And it has been a long time since we’ve been to a city where purchasing an elf for pleasure is not frowned upon.”
“Hmm, it has been some time, since we have been able to find one to enjoy,” Kyah purred, wrapping her left arm around his waist and sliding closer.
“Too long,” he replied, keeping the charade up while forcing the sour taste in his mouth back down.
Dahlia nodded and handed them a ring of keys. “I understand. Please, help yourself to whichever cell you please, and what’s inside, naturally. I will remain here with the guards to ensure the rooms are secure once you leave. Take your time.”
They spent a couple of minutes in each of the Elvehn girl’s cells, Kyah passed each a small bundle of food she had prepared and hidden in her cloak. Some of them were very young, only ten or twelve years old. Kael stood in front of the door blocking the food slot and any view from outside. He smiled at her gentleness as she talked to them and tried to offer hope, knowing in reality there would be none. Helplessness swarmed over Kael, knowing that trying to save the slaves would only get him and Kyah killed. Chances were trying to save just one would get them killed.
Once they exited the last cell and returned the keyring, Dahlea took them to the far end of the basement to the cells occupied by the Human girls. The madame opened the door to the first cell just as they were interrupted by another guard.
“Miss Dahlea, you have a visitor,” the guard said. “The man you have been waiting for is here.”
“I must see to this, Master Kael. I will give my guard the key to the other cell as well. Please take as much time as you would like with either, or both of these two girls. I promise you, it will be worth it, especially if you don’t actually look at the ugly one.”
“Thank you, Miss Dahlea,” Kael said, as he glanced back down the long hall. A guard waited for her along with a man who looked vaguely familiar. Kael and Kyah entered the cell, but he left the door open a crack in the hopes of getting a better look at the familiar man Dahlea was talking to. He couldn’t help but feel that there was more going on than what they were aware of.
Dahlea stopped to talk with the man and dismissed both guards. It told Kael the madame must be quite comfortable with him. With the guard by the cell and Dahlia standing in front of her guest, Kael could not see well enough to recognize who he was, but he had definitely seen him, and recently. Suppressing a snort at the thought of only meeting a few dozen people during his entire time on Talohna, which meant the man had to be from Dasal. Kael shook his head, wondering if anyone was who they appeared to be in this world.
Kyah talked quietly with the slave girl behind him, so Kael closed his eyes and tried to walk his mind to where the madame and the man were talking, similar to what he had done when with Lycori in the Northern Mountain Pass almost half a year ago.
Somehow, Kael had sent his consciousness across the pass where he could see and hear Giddeon’s party as clearly as if he had been standing right there with them. The magic would be perfect right now, but try as he might, he had no idea what to do. He had no idea how long had passed before Kyah tugged at his arm.
Snapping back from his thoughts, her voice entered his head. “Kael... Dammit, Kael, what the hell are you doing? We found her. She has the mark Havarrow’s first mate told us about.” The second Kyah said the words, it clicked home and Kael realized why the man in the hall was so familiar.
“It’s Havarrow’s second mate. The man who escorted us to the captain and then left to attend to other duties.” The disrespect in the mate’s voice, the hatred in his eyes and the harsh words from the female first mate. It all hit Kael at once.
“Ah shit, Kyah. We are in a crap load of trouble here. Havarrow’s second mate is the one talking to Dahlea at the end of the hall. We’re gonna have to fight our way out of here. Shit,” he cursed a second time, keeping a close eye on the two at the far end of the corridor.
Always the optimist, Kyah peeked out the crack beside him. “Hold on, think about this for a minute. Maybe Dahlea will say nothing of us. If she believes we are only interested in buying...” she whispered. Looking down the hall, Kael held his breath and prayed for a miracle as the pirate nodded to the madame and disappeared back up the stairs. Dahlia spun on her heel, and headed back towards the cells.
Kael eased the door shut and turned to Kyah.
“You might be right,” he said, letting his breath out. “He went up the stairs out of sight. Quickly tell Dominique’s daughter our plan and make sure she understands what to do when we act. We’re beginning to run out of time.” With six hours until dawn, they needed to move precisely at the right time or the whole plan would backfire and Havarrow’s pirates would attack the city of Dasal based on what Kael now suspected was a kidnapping arranged by one of the pirate captain’s own crew.
Chapter Thirteen
“Walking the Void between life and death takes skill and power few necromancers have ever achieved. Even for those who have, the Void is a dangerous place to roam with your mind. The living are not meant to be there.”
Feydon Azmerack
Necromancer and King of DormaSai, 4918 PC
DASAL, FREE LANDS
It took Sephi Kohl almost half an hour to carry Nekrosa back to the inn after he blacked out in the dirt for no apparent reason. It was late evening and still Nekrosa had yet to regain consciousness. She tried what she could to bring him around, but as a necromancer, she had little ability in healing. Besides, there did not seem to be anything actually wrong with him, except for not waking. Though her abilities with the dead were not nearly as sophisticated as Nekrosa’s, she was sure something had happened in relation to their gifts. Many, many thousands of years had passed since a necromancer of Nekrosa’s natural skill had been born. A prodigy, their master had called him when they were five and living in the mountains of DormaSai.
Nekrosa had told her moments before he lost consciousness that he had felt something strange in the small city of Dasal. She knew he had been tapping the Void all morning, trying to learn what inside the city was out of place with the natural order of life and death. Not being nearly as sensitive, Sephi had felt nothing out of the ordinary.
Necromancers were not like normal wizards. All mystics drew their power from somewhere, like wizards from their bond with the earth. Elemental sorcerers pulled their power from the elements or from raw nature, amplifying the smallest of nature’s wonders into devastating forces of destruction. Witche
s were often granted their powers from the different demons they worshipped, and very few from the angels of Paradise.
Those with the power to control the dead, on the other hand, called accessing their power “tapping the Void”. The dark void between life and death was a dimension filled with wild and powerful energies, energies all necromancers could touch and manipulate. It allowed them to reanimate the dead, assume control of an unconscious or weak mind, and if strong enough, even speak to the spirit of a person recently dead.
Nekrosa had all these abilities as well as numerous others. The DormaSain King was the only necromancer to ever drag a spirit back to its dead body. Doing so saved Sephi’s life during their desperate fight to ascend the DormaSain throne. For all his skills and experience walking the fine line between life and death, he still hadn’t come back from whatever had happened, and it terrified Sephi to no end. Placing a cold cloth on her husband’s forehead, she sighed and crawled into bed with Nekrosa to wait for him to wake or to die.
Sephi dozed and another hour passed before Nekrosa jolted awake, shouting, “Let me go!” Sephi shivered; she could feel a primal fear within his voice. Biting his lower lip in an obvious attempt to silence himself, blood ran down Nekrosa’s chin as he stared into space. “He’s here, by the darkest gods, he’s actually here in Dasal.” Nekrosa stumbled on his words as they spewed forth almost too fast for Sephi to understand.
Still by his side, she sat and cuddled closer. “Who are you talking about?” she asked, holding his hands. He turned to look at her, his swollen eyes bloodshot and seemingly unaware of his surroundings.
“I am back?” he asked her, still confused.
“Yes, my love,” Sephi whispered as took his face in her hands, touching her forehead to his own. “You are here, with me in our room. We are in Dasal, do you not remember?” she asked, her voice filled with worry.