“I am worried Ralis.” She said as she set the fork down again.
“Why would they poison us?” He reasoned.
“It is not just that…” Miri took a lock of her curly red hair in her hands and twisted it nervously. “We left Amri, Browen and Ezra in that city… they have no idea where we are and… and you just want to trust these people. What if they have some horrible dark secret, like at the carnival?”
“Maybe I am too trusting.” Ralis confessed with a shrug. “But these are my people Miri. You would trust an Elf that you just met right?”
She blinked as she considered his argument, then picked up the fork again and took a small bite of the pie. She gasped as the flavours mingled in her mouth and she took another bite.
“This is delicious.” She whispered with a slight flush to her cheeks. “We should keep up our guard however… and what will we do about the others?”
“I don’t know… Tylo said that we couldn’t help them yet. What do you think that means?”
Miri shook her head.
“Do you really think that this Mistress Avia knows where the next Shrine is?” He pressed, his mind burned with questions, not just about the Shrine.
“I do not understand how, unless she stumbled across it by accident in these swamps.” Miri pondered between bites. “But I also do not understand how she knows that we’re looking for them or how she knew where to send that boy to find us.”
“Do you really think it is impossible for her to also have the Sight?” Ralis asked, it was the only solution that made sense to him.
Miri bit her lip then shook her head. “Only my family is born with the Sight and I am confirmed to be the last descendant of the Hero Arris Cavadash. This Mistress must have another way of learning such things.”
Ralis had finished his pie by the time Merria returned. “The bath is ready for one of you and I can show the other to your room.”
“Miri, why don’t you have the bath first.” Ralis offered.
“I, uh…. I don’t think…” Miri stumbled, her cheeks red.
“There is nothing like a warm bath to help you relax.” Merria nodded, then led Miri down the hall towards a small room with a long metal tub set on the floor. “You’ll find soaps in that cupboard there and towels in here. Hanging on the back of the door is a dress you can borrow while I wash your clothes. Take your time.” She then turned to Ralis and led him back down the hall.
She opened the door to another small room with two single beds set on opposite sides with only room for a single end table between them. Above the end table was a little window which looked out into the swamp.
“I hope you two don’t mind sharing, this is the only other room I have available at the moment.” Merria blushed apologetically. “I set some spare clothes on the bed for you and when your friend is finished, I can get some fresh warm water ready.”
She then turned and departed down the hall leaving Ralis alone in the small room. He closed the door and changed into the simple, but clean, trousers that were on the bed and decided to go shirtless again. Feeling cleaner than he had a moment ago he sat on the bed and looked out the window. If this really was a safe place for half Na’tyr, he needed to tell Raigh about it. He needed to bring her here somehow. He sighed, not sure how he would find the travelling caravan after his quest with Miri was finished. His mind then drifted towards the mysterious Mistress Avia and he wondered what answers she had for him. But more importantly, if she really could take them to the next Shrine.
Chapter Twenty Five
Amri
As much as Amri struggled against the guards, they were stronger, and she found herself dragged inside of the castle then through a maze of hallways. The architecture was old, but sturdy and the cold stone walls and floors were covered in purple and gold carpets and tapestries. They were a constant reminder to Amri, and everyone else, who ruled Esper. The halls were lit with strange lamps, whose power source was a mystery to Amri. They chased away the shadows as she was led down below the castle. She guessed that she was destined for the dungeons when she noticed that the decorations and other finery were no longer as prevalent.
They hadn’t bothered to take her daggers or other tools, and there were only two soldiers who escorted her. All she needed was a moment to make her move. She could possibly take out the two guards if she was quick. Then she could sneak back the way she came and escape into the city. That was, if she could remember her way back through the maze of hallways. And if she didn’t encounter any more soldiers or Na’tyr. She wondered if her friends were already forming a plan to break into the castle or if they would wait for her to escape on her own. She hated not knowing if she was truly alone or if help was already on its way.
At some unknown depth below the castle proper, the soldiers dragged Amri through a waiting door frame into a dark room. The door sealed as if on its own accord as she was brought before a wooden table, heavily marked in deep cuts and red stains. Her eyes darted nervously around the room. It was some sort of twisted workshop with all manner of diabolical tools hanging from the walls and a chair with straps resting in the corner. The stone walls and floor were stained with blood and the smell of old iron made Amri’s stomach twist.
Fussing with the contents of a chest, was one of the Na’tyr who had stood at the King-Regents side, the hideous one who wore thick heavy robes. And standing at the table was the handsome teal skinned Na’tyr. He looked bored as he idly adjusted the cufflinks on his jacket.
“Did you take the scenic way down?” Snarled the robbed Na’tyr as he stood from the chest and addressed the soldiers.
“No Sir.” They replied in unison.
Their voices shook slightly under the robbed Na’tyr’s wicked gaze, but they kept their grip firm on Amri’s arms. She pulled defiantly against them but like all of her previous attempts their grasp did not budge. The unsightly Na’tyr smirked at the attempt.
The teal skinned Na’tyr sighed listlessly. “You made a valiant effort, but if you value your life the show is over. What is your name?”
Amri spat at the pair and bared her teeth as they both absentmindedly dodged the attempt.
“Did you really think asking nicely would work with this one?” The shorter and uglier Na’tyr hissed. “Do your job Zaphir.”
The teal skinned Na’tyr sighed again and locked eyes with Amri. She couldn’t look away and felt her cheeks flush at the attention. He was so unbelievably handsome, and she suddenly felt the urge to do anything that he asked. The rush of emotion would have overwhelmed her had it not felt so familiar. It took her a second to realize that it was exactly how she felt when she first met Ralis. She tried to fight against it but couldn’t look away from his stunning black eyes.
“Tell me your name?” He asked with a voice so beautiful Amri nearly wept.
She struggled to resist the all too powerful urge but felt her tongue responding even as her mind screamed against it. With words already forming she instead managed to twist them in her brief realization to form something other than her true name.
“Kirra.” She felt exhausted from the effort and was uncertain if she could resist again.
“Thank you Kirra.” Purred Zaphir. “Now put your hand on the table and don’t move it until I tell you otherwise.”
She had nothing left in her to resist. Whatever strength she had gained by spending so much time with Ralis had been spent on concealing her name. The soldiers released her, and she obediently placed her hand on the scarred table, ecstatic that such a simple task would please Zaphir.
“Don’t move until I tell you otherwise.” He repeated, his voice thick and sweet like honey.
Out of the corner of her eye she watched as the other Na’tyr brought a metal band down upon her wrist. It was freezing cold, unnaturally so, like the first Shrine she and her friends had discovered. She wanted to jerk
her hand away from the cold biting her skin, but her eyes remained locked on Zaphir’s, she did not have his permission to move. The spike covered Na’tyr then clasped his hands over the freezing band and mumbled words of power under his breath. The iron band became so cold that it burned and Amri cried out against the pain with tears pooling in her eyes at the agony. Yet she could not move her hand, she could not look away from Zaphir’s beautifully perfect eyes. The pain reached a crescendo, breaking her free of the charm, and she closed her eyes as she screamed. She jerked her hand to her chest and tried to tear the band from her wrist only to find that it had been fused shut.
Zaphir busied himself with his cufflinks again, his charms no longer needed, and the other Na’tyr smiled at Amri’s pain. She glared at the uglier of the two and was relieved as the pain faded away into nothing. The guards did not grab her again, and her eyes flicked towards the door in the moment’s pause. Perhaps this was her chance.
“Go ahead... Run.” The ugly Na’tyr hissed noticing the motion.
She nearly did. Her mind screamed at her to flee from the monsters, before they could do something else to her. But something in the back of her mind made her hesitate. Something was wrong.
The ugly Na’tyr laughed a grotesque raspy laugh and Zaphir shook his head as he looked to his comrade in disgust.
“You’re the reason the other races call us Demons Ceeril.” While his voice was still beautiful, it was no longer laced with the magic of his charm as he spoke. His dark eyes moved to Amri and he continued. “The pain you felt just now is but a fraction of the agony you would feel if you attempted to escape now. However, if you behave yourself you will never feel that pain again.”
“That band is bound to this castle and its grounds. Dark magic that will kill you if you attempt to break it.” Ceeril sneered at her, ignoring Zaphir’s disgust. “It will be removed at the King-Regents request when the year is up. That is if he permits you to leave.”
Zaphir frowned as he looked Amri over. “Do you understand what your role here is, Kirra?”
She blinked at the random name she had dredged up in her lucid moment of rebellion, at least it hadn’t been Ezra or Miri.
“For one year, starting today, you are to be the King-Regent’s… Pet.” Zaphir’s expression did not change but Amri caught the disdain in his voice as he said the word pet. “Let me be clear, you are His. You must do whatever he asks, whenever he asks, or suffer the consequences. You are beholden to him, if he deems your life forfeit then you will be executed without question. Behave yourself and there shouldn’t be any incidents.”
“You’re no fun Zaphir, it is better to watch them figure it out on their own.” Ceeril gave Amri a toothy grin.
Zaphir ignored him and continued in a bored tone. “You are free to roam the castle and its grounds as you wish, but if you attempt to go past the walls… you might not survive.”
Amri felt the weight of the iron band against her left wrist. The memory of the pain was not far enough away yet, and she winced at the recollection.
“However, the dungeons and upper floors are off limits without an approved escort, your handmaids will show you where you can and cannot go. You will be expected to dine with his Majesty and his court for breakfast at 8am, lunch at 1pm and dinner at 6pm. Between meals you will have lessons, to prepare you for the upcoming masquerade and life at the castle, unless the King-Regent specifically calls for you otherwise. Your evenings after dinner and mornings before breakfast are yours to do with as you wish. Do you have any questions?”
Amri blinked again as she absorbed the regime that was to be her life for the next year. Her mind raced trying to think of ways to escape, to break the band and return to her friends outside of the castle.
Her silence seemed to be answer enough and Zaphir addressed her soldiers. “Please escort her to her room. I will see you again at dinner Kirra.” He then made for a door behind the scarred wooden table and departed into the dark chamber beyond.
Ceeril remained and watched as the soldiers escorted her from the room. She had been dragged into the room by her arms kicking and screaming as she went. But she left silently. The soldiers kept a respectful distance as they led her back up, to the brightly lit halls above.
She held her bound wrist as they moved through the labyrinth of halls and elaborate rooms. This time she didn’t bother to mark their passage, as she processed what Zaphir had said. She felt violated by the band on her wrist and Zaphir’s mind magic that had forced her to accept it. And his words after had made her feel trapped with no escape.
She was still feeling dazed when the soldiers stopped before a door and opened it for her. The other side was a large sitting room decorated with expensive furnishings all trimmed with gold and lined with purple. There were three doors, other than the one she entered, one was panned with glass and revealed a narrow balcony beyond but the other two were closed.
Waiting patiently inside the sitting room were five women who stood as soon as the door opened and bowed to Amri as the soldiers gently pushed her inside. The soldiers closed the door behind her, and she looked between the women and noted similar bands of iron around their wrists. The oldest one stepped forward to Amri and bowed a second time while offering a kind smile. Her brown hair had wisps of grey in it and her face was slightly wrinkled from years of frowning. She, like all of the women in the room wore a plain purple dress with a clean white apron over the front.
“Welcome my Lady, this will be your room for the next year. And we are your handmaids.” She stood straight again and placed a hand on her chest. “I am Milli and this is Eva, Joslyn, Sabrin, and Adirra.”
Each of the girls bowed again at the mention of their names. Sabrin was the youngest looking of the group and had long blond hair that had been delicately braided with purple ribbons. She had a shy expression as she bowed. Eva was the next youngest looking and had long black hair that she let dangle flat against her bitter expression. Joslyn had light red hair that had been pulled back into a simple bun and she had a splattering of freckles across her face. While Adirra had long brown hair that had been braided in several places then was pulled back into an intricate bun.
“What is your name dear girl?” Milli asked.
“Ah… Kirra.” Amri still felt in shock over everything that had happened around her and only barely remembered to use the same name she had told Zaphir earlier.
“Now Lady Kirra, we don’t have much time to prepare you for your first dinner and it looks like we’re going to need every moment of it.” Milli clicked her tongue as she looked over Amri.
“I’m not a Lady.” Amri blinked at the title used.
“For the next year you are.” Joslyn crossed her arms as she also looked over Amri. “Bath first, I can’t work with you like this.”
“Be nice Joslyn, the poor thing looks like she is still in shock.” Milli chastised, as she stepped forward and grabbed Amri by the arm. “This way dear.”
She led Amri to one of the closed doors and opened it to reveal a large bathing chamber. The massive clawfoot bathtub had already been filled with warm water and scented soaps. The long white marble countertop had an assortment of bottles and soaps clustered on top, as well as some soft towels waiting to be used. Milli led Amri towards the tub and moved to help undress her. It was an action that brought Amri from her stupor and she jumped back with a glare at the older woman.
“I don’t need a bath.” She cursed, still a little startled.
“Yes, you do.” Joslyn sneered from the door frame.
“No I don’t, because I am not going to dinner.” Amri hissed back. The shock of everything had started to slowly fade away.
“Oh dear.” Milli shook her head. “If you value your life you’ll go to dinner and you’ll look nice while you’re in the presence of the King-Regent.”
“Did they not explain when they put
your band on?” Adirra asked out of concern. “You belong to the King-Regent now, you have to do whatever he wants, or he’ll kill you.”
“Or worse.” Eva grumbled.
Amri frowned. “He can’t do that.”
“Yes, he can, he’s the King-Regent.” Joslyn snapped.
“We’ve all been where you are.” Milli offered a patient smile. “The year will be done before you know it, and if you were good, perhaps the King-Regent will be so kind as to let you return to your family.”
“Wait you were all his… once?” Amri asked, cringing at the implication.
“Once.” Milli closed her eyes as she nodded, then opened her eyes and gestured to the tub of warm water. “Please Kirra, you need to be presentable to the King-Regent for your first dinner. Or it will be our heads for failing.”
Amri frowned, she could not let them be punished for her stubbornness. She looked into the warm water and sighed. “Fine, but I’ll do it myself.”
“Do you even know how?” Joslyn jeered.
“No need to be prudish dear, we’re all ladies here.” Milli sighed. “This will go smoother if you let us help you.”
“I can do it myself.” Amri frowned, not enjoying any moment of this
“Alright then.” Milli conceded rubbing her temple with her index and middle finger. “The soaps and shampoos are all on the counter there. Be sure to scrub every inch of yourself, I don’t want to see a speck of dirt. You’ll also need to wash and brush your hair thoroughly; the combs are in that drawer. And your teeth could use a scrub as well, there is a brush and paste in that drawer. Do you know how to use all of this?”
“I’ll figure it out.” Amri crossed her arms.
“If you take too long, we’ll come back in here and help you. I’ve hung a selection of outfits for you to choose from in the closet. You may set your old clothes on the chair and I will have them washed for you. Not that you’ll be allowed to wear them again, at least until the year is up. Now, scrub up and we’ll help you with your hair and makeup once you’re finished.”
Sunken Wind Page 25