Forgotten

by Lyn Lowe

  “Well, I’ve heard it’s important to have goals.” He suffered her frittering at his shirt, but when she reached up to his hair Kaie put a stop to it. He grabbed her hands at the wrist. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to save my life,” Kissa said. “Which, at the moment, means making sure you get out of Lindel.”

  She tried to tug her hands free. Kaie tightened his grip. “You don’t like me.”

  Her scowl deepened and she slowly shook her head. “You’re right. You’re an ass. And, since you’re here wearing that, I’m guessing a murderer too. If you count putting a Hollow down murder. Either way, no I don’t like you.”

  “Then why?” he asked.

  Kaie was sure he could trust her in this, but he didn’t know where the certainty came from. His feelings toward Kissa were unchanged, the tightly wound ball of hatred living in his stomach twisted at the thought of putting his faith in her, just to remind him it was there. But he knew that she wanted to help him, and that he was going to let her. It was disconcerting and he needed some kind of explanation; some rationalization for what he was about to do.

  “Because I need to be able to sleep at night a little bit more than I need to obey the Namer.”

  He sneered. “Too bad you didn’t think of that before she went ripping through my mind.”

  Kissa sighed and tugged her hands again. This time, he let them go. “You think you’re the only one in danger? I’m a mage, Kaie, just like you. I’m not wearing a brand, but I’m every bit the slave you are. There’s no such thing as a free mage in the empire. I just got to choose my prison. Hollow or Namer. Which one would you pick?”

  Kaie scowled. There was no reason to answer. No one who understood what it was to be Hollow would choose any differently than she did. He didn’t need to like it though.

  Kissa went to work on his hair. It was strange. She was shorter than him, so she needed to stand on her toes, and he actually rested a hand on her hip to help her balance. Her fingers were just as small as Peren’s, and they worked through his hair with gentle dexterity. The moment was filled with a surreal intimacy.

  When she was done, she held her fingers over his temples, so close he could feel the heat of them without any actual contact. “I know a spell that will make your face numb for a while. A week, maybe two. It will work, even while you sleep. So long as you keep your mouth shut for a change, it should be enough to get you out of Lindel.” She stared into his eyes, her face asking permission, adding to the strangeness of the moment.

  Kaie wanted to say no. Putting magic to use to get him out was one thing. Letting it touch him again, that was another. There was no way for him to calculate what he lost to this girl and her spells. He would never know what magic stole from him. He would rather head back into that burning shack than let her back into his mind.

  Slowly, his skin crawling, he nodded.

  Her fingers closed the distance to his temple in less than a blink. Kissa’s eyelids fluttered close and, for a moment, Kaie thought it was all some sick ploy to kiss him. That certainly wouldn’t make the exchange any weirder. Instead, her lips parted and more of that strange, half-whispered language he remembered from the last time she touched him slid out.

  “Ladda rost.”

  A tingling started at his temples. It wasn’t painful, not exactly, but it was decidedly unpleasant. Two breaths later, the sensation encompassed his entire head. Kaie fought to keep his hands where they were, to not shove her away or scratch at the insects he felt crawling around under his scalp. Then, as quickly as it started, it stopped. He began to sigh in relief as the prickling feeling faded, but the air was only half out when his skin began to melt.

  He stumbled backward, shoving her away and clutching at his face in a single movement. Kaie started to shout at her – or maybe scream – but her hands darted forward like snakes, lacing over top of his mouth before the sound made it past his dissolving lips. The noise died against her palms, and he was left with the terror and a taste of her hand.

  The sensation ended as quickly as it started, though his face was far from normal. It felt thick, heavy. Like someone replaced the skin with some sort of clay. Another second, and the clay hardened. It wouldn’t move the way it was supposed to, and he quickly found that he wasn’t able to open his mouth. The muscles in his jaw were like stone. With an effort, Kaie calmed his panicked breathing and Kissa lifted her hand.

  She took a step back, rubbing her palm against her thigh absently. “You’ll be able to eat and talk in a few hours. Don’t do the latter until you’re sure you’re out of Lindel. Don’t do anything unless the soldiers tell you to, until you’re sure you’re out of Lindel. The Finders won’t hunt you, after that. But don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re free. Slaves are slaves through every bit of the empire. You won’t be free until you find a tiny spot of earth the Empress hasn’t noticed long enough to plant a flag on. Until then, keep running.”

  He wanted to ask her how in the Abyss he was expected to know when he was out of Lindel. Vaughan talked about the country like it was the whole of the world, Kissa like there was some great line in the earth marking it off from the rest. Kaie didn’t think it would be as easy as either of those. Instead, he settled for a nod.

  Kissa took a step backward, her lips pursed. Her need to say something more was so obvious it was painful. There were a great number of things he wanted to say to her as well, none of them particularly grateful. Again, he could do nothing but tilt his head to the side in a question that couldn’t be voiced.

  After another moment of uncomfortable staring passed before she finally reached into her robe and pulled out a carefully folded piece of paper. Kissa pressed it into his hand with clear reluctance. “If you can’t get away before they reach Jorander, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble. You have to figure out some way to find Gregor Ironfist and give him this letter. He’s Ninth Rit and a good man. He’ll help you.”

  He would read the letter for himself later. For now, he just nodded and tried to make his eyes look grateful. She sighed and did one final adjustment to his shirt. “Don’t need this letter. Get away before Jorander. Find your safe place and die old and asleep, dreaming of the revenge you never got. You owe us, the mages and Hollows who won’t ever get that chance. Don’t you dare fuck it up.”

  She took another step backward, a grim smile on her face. “Kaie the Unbroken is dead. Gods be merciful, may I never see his like again.”

  You will, Kaie promised silently. Mine will be the last face you see.

  For all the difficulty of getting there, it was absurdly easy to get on to the wagon. All the effort Kissa put into his hair was pointless. The soldier loading Hollows into the back of the ramshackle wooded cart hardly glanced him over before shoving Kaie into the dark depths. There was no checking of names or careful examination. It was, after all the work he put into it, a strangely disappointing sort of relief that flooded him when he was sitting on the rough bench.

  The interior smelled strongly of urine. If it weren’t for the spell holding Kaie’s mouth, there would be no way to stop from gagging. The rest of the Hollows were already on, so with his addition the two soldiers slammed the door closed, making the odor infinitely worse. He couldn’t swallow hard enough to rid his mouth of the bile spilling up from the back of his throat.

  His companions, invisible in the darkness, were utterly silent. His only clue as to the number of them was the sounds of breathing and the close press of bodies against his own. And the smell. Gods above, the smell. Even with his limited perception, Kaie was certain there were more than four people inside.

  The wagon started moving with a lurch that smacked his shoulder into the wooden door and another body into him. Blinking against the pain, he didn’t give any thought to the life he was riding away from. Kaie’s mind was already focused on the new problem of getting away.

  Ten

  He expected it to be hard, playing a Hollow. He thought every interaction with the two soldi
ers dragging them across the country would be a test of his will and self-control, and that the time spent in silence with the other Hollows would be mind-numbing. Kaie was not prepared for the truth.

  There were twenty-seven of them, more than half women, all staring with blank eyes. As Kissa warned, they did nothing without direct instruction from the two men responsible for delivering them. Even when camp was made for the night, no one would put the small bit of food to their mouth until a soldier barked an order at them. Kaie knew they were hungry – he could hear their stomachs rumbling in time with his – but the action didn’t seem to occur to them independently. Nor did emptying their bladders in a decent manner. If the soldiers didn’t instruct them otherwise, the Hollows would simply relieve themselves in their clothing.

  As for the two men themselves, Kaie quickly developed a special sort of hatred for them. At first, aside from their utter control over his life, they seemed neutral enough. He could almost forgive them the thoughtless humiliation of his new existence, up until the night he learned the reason the Urazin military was collecting Hollows.

  It was just over four weeks since Kaie first climbed onto the wagon. The effects of Kissa’s spell were long worn off but he couldn’t find his moment to slip away. The soldiers spoke often of an outpost along their route where they would resupply before braving the mountain pass. From the sound of it, the outpost was his best chance to abandon the Hollows unnoticed, but it was still days away. So he did all he could to lurk near the back of the crowd that shuffled around waiting for commands every night. It was getting more challenging as the green hills turned into sand dunes. The days inside the wagon were scorching, but the nights brought on a chill that sunk deep into his bones. Avoiding the soldiers put him far from the fire. The other Hollows didn’t care if they shivered all night, once they were told to sleep they did.

  So, when the two men decided to drink their fill of the wineskins sharing the wagon with him and the rest of the Hollows, Kaie was prepared to be relieved. It seemed harmless, even preferable. Certainly, he was less likely to be noticed, if he slipped up, by two drunks than if they were sober. And their conversation about the trip was illuminating.

  From their talk, Kaie learned that Jorander was easily the only remaining nation that could rival Urazin in military prowess. With all the others fallen, the Empress was eager to extend her reach from one end of the continent to the other. They took a rather sizable chunk of Jorander years ago. But when they reached a great range of mountains, with an endless expanse of desert on the other side, they were stalled. The older man was an old hand at the empire’s wars. He rattled off more than a couple names with the dismissiveness of the winning side. The younger man was newly recruited, which was why he was here, collecting Hollows under the watchful eye of a seasoned – and Kaie suspected, disgraced – soldier instead of on the front lines.

  He listened attentively as the grizzled old man talked about the troubles the military was having pushing into Jorander. The empire’s numbers weren’t the advantage they were accustomed to. The pass through the mountains was small, and the supply trains simply couldn’t come through fast enough to support the troops. Unless Urazin found themselves a foothold at a port, the old soldier theorized, the empire might finally see the end of its expansion. Kaie soaked it all in. Any bit of it might prove to be important.

  It seemed to be over the younger soldier’s head, by the man’s eagerness to change the subject. When the man found a topic that appealed to his elder, the night took a turn.

  “Which one do you think Silvertongue will take this time?”

  The old man grunted. “The redhead, no doubt. Don’t see many of those anymore.”

  Kaie nearly gave himself away as air stuck in his throat, threatening a cough. There was only one person they could be talking about.

  The young man chuckled. “You really think so? The boy somehow manages to look pissed off without a damn thing in his head.”

  That got a nod and another grunt. “That too. Man likes broken things. Likes to break them. And that pretty mouth? Oh yes. He’ll take the redhead. The question should be, will Silvertongue leave anything left to send in to the Jor spears?”

  The young man snorted. “I’ve got to make Rit. They get all the fun.”

  “Oh?” The old man was laughing himself now. “All those men following you into battle, dying at your word? You think that sounds like fun, Tovan? Just because they get to lay claim on a Hollow before the rest of the military fucks them or the enemy pokes holes in them? Remind me to request a transfer if the First Rit ever sustains a head injury bad enough to make her promote you.”

  “Come on,” Tovan coaxed. “Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to stick it in one of them.”

  “Nah. You’ll never see a Hollow with fire. Might as well hump a blanket. At least then I don’t have to worry about sharing my cot. Not like any of them are any fun to be close to, either. All those empty stares and smelling of piss.”

  “I don’t know. That little girl with the brown hair… She doesn’t smell so bad.”

  Kaie cringed. Again, there was no doubt in his mind who they were talking about. The tiny girl, couldn’t be more than eleven, always seemed to be right at his elbow. In the wagon she was always sitting next to him, and no matter where he moved within the group she ended up lying beside him. Like now, just outside arms reach.

  It couldn’t be her doing it. She was a Hollow in truth, empty eyes and all. But he couldn’t sort out why he was drawn to her. Like Tovan said, she didn’t smell quite as bad as most of them. But that didn’t explain why he spent his days imagining her riding on a tall man’s shoulders or tugging on his arm exclaiming that he was shiny. Or why he spent so much time trying to figure out what her name was, before she was Hollow. Or why he cared about her at all. She shouldn’t be any different to him than the rest of the empty eyes sharing the wagon with him.

  The old man sighed and leaned back against the wagon. “If that’s the best you can say about a girl that catches your eye, it truly is a sad day. But if you’re asking my permission to poke that sack of meat, don’t bother. I told you before, I’m not here to babysit you.”

  It would require a much greater distance between them for him to miss the way Tovan’s face lit up. Hardly aware of doing so, Kaie slid closer to the little girl. His heart hammered in his ears so loudly he almost missed the next words.

  “I thought we aren’t allowed to touch them until the Rits…”

  The old man grunted. That was all the permission Tovan needed.

  As the younger man climbed to his feet and searched the crowd of Hollows for his prize, Kaie’s tongue grew thick and heavy. The girl didn’t flinch as the predatory gaze settled on her. Whether she knew what was coming and couldn’t react, or was as clueless and beyond caring as she seemed was impossible to guess.

  All he needed to do was nothing. The girl was nothing to Kaie. Just another Hollow. His whole body was vibrating. One look at him from either of the soldiers would give away his ruse. But the old man wasn’t paying any attention, and the other’s saw nothing but the girl.

  Tovan’s hand dropped on the girl’s head, stroking the light brown straw there once. Then those thick fingers looped through her hair and jerked her up. It was cruel and unnecessary – a simple command would get her up just as easily – and brought tears to the little girl’s eyes.

  He just needed to keep his mouth shut.

  The soldier was laughing as he yanked her close, forcing the girl up on her toes. Tovan used his free hand to fumble at the neck of her shirt, lacking even enough decency to wait until he got her to his tent before he pawed at her. The girl’s empty hazel eyes stared vacantly, but Kaie couldn’t shake the feeling that she was looking at him, waiting for him to do something.

  “Leave her alone!”

  Silence dropped across the small camp like a wet blanket. Two heads swiveled to him faster than he ever imagined possible. The girl fell back to the ground. Kaie’s vi
ctory was fleeting and costly.

  The young soldier was on him in an instant, fist connecting solidly with Kaie’s jaw. Before he could recover, another blow took him in the stomach. He was soft, from his months with Peren and his time sitting in the wagon, and the impact was enough to drive him back to the ground. He struggled to regain his feet, but it was too late. The old man was on him now too, and the practiced soldier wasn’t going to waste time with a fist fight. The metal of the old man’s sword pressed against his throat was warm and smelled of iron. It also put an end to any half-formed delusions of fighting his way free.

  In the time it took Kaie to lift his hands over his head, he came up with and rejected a dozen ideas of how to manage the situation. But, with the old man close enough to smell sour wine and onions on his breath, there was nothing that could be done. For the sake of the Hollow laying not three feet away, completely oblivious to his sacrifice, Kaie had given up any chance of freedom.

  “Who are you?”

  It was Tovan who asked the question, but Kaie never peeled his eyes away from the old man. No matter how cruel the young soldier might be, it was the other who was going to kill him. “I’m unarmed. I’m not here to cause trouble.”

  The old soldier gestured to the wagon. “Kid, run and get the rope.”

  In moments, Kaie’s arms were jerked violently backward, a coarse rope wrapping around his wrists. All the nerves in his body screamed for him to fight. He knew that every second he didn’t, it grew increasingly more likely he would never get the chance. But if they were tying him up, they weren’t sure they were going to kill him. So long as there was a chance he could live through this, he was going to take it. Even if that meant the circulation in his hands was constricted enough that he could already feel his fingertips growing numb.

  As Tovan fumbled at his hands, an idea began to form. It was insane, and liable to make his situation even more treacherous, but it might be the difference between making it to the outpost and being left bound and gagged.