Dragonfly Refrain

by Aimee Moore

  “She is nothing compared to you,” Karne crooned.

  “You’re disgusting,” I said. “I came here naked because I wasn’t given any decent clothing. Is this how you treat your guests?”

  Karne glanced at Yasmil, whose placid calm remained in place, head bowed. “She was given the house dress, as requested.”

  “That is not clothing,” I said, “That is a kerchief. I want my things back and I will not wear your whore garb.”

  Yasmil stiffened.

  Karne smiled at me. “No, of course not. A lady deserves something more fitting. What was I thinking?”

  Karne gestured, and then red fabric slithered over me, a luscious wrap of silk that fell into a beautiful dress, avoiding the stinging shard in my shoulder with careful placement.

  Then my hair pulled and tugged gently, lifting off my back. I reached up to touch it, finding it twisted into an updo of sorts that seemed elegant enough when my fingers brushed over it. I lowered my hand, loathe to admit that the whole ensemble was probably far more polished than I had ever looked in my life. It was useless for life on the road, but at least I was clothed. I’d address the rest later.

  “Thank you,” I said in a stiff tone. “Now then, my things.”

  “Things,” Karne said.

  “Yes, things. I’ll wait in the hall until you’re dressed and you can take me to my things.”

  “I haven’t any idea what you mean.”

  “Before I was abducted, I had traded for some warm wool and furs and I wore a single necklace. I want these things back. They have purpose.”

  Karne smiled. “More demands, Seraphine?”

  “Yes, more demands. We are not friends,” I said.

  “After all that I’ve done? I’ve saved your life not once, but twice. I’ve saved your extremities from the blackened death of frostbite. I’ve fed you. Kept you warm. Renewed the spirit of your home town. And, most important of all, I have kept my hands and my allure to myself even when you present yourself to me as so. But since you still—"

  “Alright. Thank you. I appreciate it. But I don’t trust you.”

  Karne smiled at me. “Trust; how quaint.”

  I sighed, cutting him a glare that said exactly what I thought of that sentiment.

  “Come, Yasmil cared for you when first I brought you here, perhaps she’ll know of these… things you so desire. I’ll take you to her workspace.”

  “Thank you,” I said, turning to go down the hall.

  “Tend her, then meet us in there,” Karne murmured to Yasmil.

  When I turned to see what he was talking about, he was walking toward me with a shimmering wrap about his waist, exposed torso still glistening. Yasmil was disappearing into the room with the naked woman that Karne had just finished with, closing the double doors behind her. I was alone in this vast hallway with only the winking stars in the blackness above and below to take my attention off of the figure of sex next to me.

  Karne walked by my side with a liveliness in his step that made me want to incinerate him. “Tell me how you like what I’ve done with your home.”

  “This glittering stone fortress is not my home.”

  “No, perhaps on the inside it has changed, but on the outside it is the same shape, is it not?”

  “As I told Dal long ago, there is only death and despair for me in Lambston.”

  “You doubt your senses,” Karne said with a hint of a grin.

  “Senses can be deceived. Logic is more solid than this stone.”

  “You sound so Child of War,” Karne said with a curl of his lip. “And they are so surly. Do not be surly, Seraphine, I know that there is someone soft and full of wonder under that Kraw skin.”

  “She died with my sister.”

  “Somehow, I doubt your Kraw would agree.”

  “Take me to him and ask. Now. I’m ready to go.”

  “By all means, you’re free to go. Set out into the new world and meet your end, Seraphine; I won’t stop you. But you should know, you’re no longer safe out there.”

  “Safe from what? You?” I asked.

  Karne went stone-faced and looked away. “There are worse things than a man who wants to court you.”

  “Court me? This is courting me?”

  “No. You would not allow me to court you properly.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t. I am mated to another. Another whom I want you to find.”

  “Find? You wish to ask favors from me?”

  “I don’t want any games, Karne. You can find me anywhere and anytime you wish. It’s only logical to think that you can find Dal, too.”

  Karne laughed lightly. “You haven’t figured it out, have you.”

  “Figured what out,” I snarled, catching my bad foot on a rolled-up section of rug and hopping to get it free.

  “Nialae can’t find Children of War the same way we find you. Despite the fact that they’re primitive savages, their minds are too complex for us to see, their gifts hidden deep. I will not be locating your Dal.”

  “Very well, find Lianne.”

  Karne frowned. “The soldier woman? She is not Gifted, as you are, and so I have nothing to locate. I thought you clever enough to piece that together.”

  “How am I to know what you can and can’t do? Since you won’t help me I’ll leave on my own.”

  “When we have removed that shard and you are healed, you are free to go and find your grunt.”

  “He is not a grunt,” I growled. “He is the second in command. And why in the seven hells is it so big inside here and so small out there? We’ve been walking forever and there’s no end in sight to this madness.” We passed another window of pale green skies and lavender bushes.

  Karne smiled at me. “This is your first time witnessing Nialae phasing.”

  I frowned. “Phasing; an odd word for whatever this is.”

  Karne laughed, a husky, male sound that reverberated in my belly. “Your wonder at my people’s power is refreshing. I could place a city inside a thimble if I so desired.”

  “It’s not wonder,” I snapped. “I was trying to put a definition to the word. I’m not new to the way Nialae wiggle their fingers and make things appear.”

  “Ah yes, your little friend. What was her name? Yeesil?”

  “Ye-see-ell,” I said.

  Karne shrugged. “I’ve never met her.”

  “She said she was the queen’s handmaiden.”

  Karne frowned. “Tanebrael had many, and I’ve probably bedded every one of them. I never met a Ysiel.”

  I curled my lip at Karne’s lack of shame. “Someone is lying to me then.”

  “Lies, aversions, new truths; you’ll see in time that it’s all the same to Nialae. But until then, I think we need to discuss payment.”

  “Payment?”

  “You didn’t think I would save your life twice for nothing, did you?”

  I seethed. “It’s not a kindness if you expect repayment.”

  “Semantics. In any rate, you are now in my debt.”

  “You never gave me a choice. I would have rather died,” I said.

  “I’ll remember that next time. And since you aren’t in a mood for discussion, we’ll discuss my terms at another time.”

  “There won’t be another time, I’m leaving, Karne.”

  “Another daring escape?” He quirked his lip in a smirk.

  “It’s only daring if you try to stop me. I’ve wasted enough time in your house of warped perceptions.”

  Karne’s voice lowered. “You may not trust me, but trust that the creatures awaiting you out there will take things you never thought to give. Perhaps, after I’ve pulled you from their clutches enough times, you’ll come to appreciate my house of warped perceptions.”

  “I’ll never stop trying to get back to him,” I said.

  Karne’s gaze remained on me for a time, and when he spoke again his tone was light. “We’re here.” He stopped in front of a plain door and pushed it open. “Ladies first.”
>
  Yasmil, sitting in a high-backed chair and sorting parchment, only flicked her disinterested gaze at me as I entered the cluttered space with an open ceiling. Desks and cabinets of varying heights lined the walls, weighed down by books and parchment and colorful jars and vases.

  “Oh, and Seraphine,” I turned to Karne, “until we work out your repayment, I think it best that you make yourself a useful member of my house.”

  I gasped as the dress I had been wearing slithered off of my skin. The white house garb that I had refused before was wrapping itself around me as the metal ring snapped around my neck, supporting the whole ensemble.

  I barely had time to register what had happened as I shot a furious glare at Karne.

  “Since you will not allow me to court you, and as you have said, we are not friends, then the only other reason you would be here is as one of my staff.” Then the bastard smiled at me. “I trust that stalwart spirit of yours will do wonders for my household. Take care.”

  And then he was gone, and I was a pillar of rage.

  Chapter 16

  Servitude

  “Karne!” I yelled, reaching deep within me to shake the walls with my fury. “You festering maggot pile!” My nails bit into my palms as rage drove my throat to soreness. I reached for the door handle.

  “You’re wasting your breath.”

  Letting go, I turned to her. “That snake deserves to die.”

  “He’s long gone,” Yasmil said.

  “Fine.” I began to fumble at the clasp on my neck.

  Yasmil shook her head, folding a cloth of different colors. I rolled the ring around my neck to find a clasp or a hitch. There was only smoothness all around the ring. Panic jolted through me.

  I let my hands drop with a rough breath. “I cannot remove it.”

  Yasmil gave a slight eye roll. “Of course not.”

  “I was naked moments ago, there is a way to get this infernal thing off.”

  She set the cloth down and met my gaze. “Have you finished your tantrum yet? I have better things to do than listen to you whine.”

  I scowled, digging both hands under the ring and pulling until the back of my neck stung and my left shoulder ached as the shard oozed more blood from the stress.

  I sat on a nearby chair with an angry huff, glaring at the woman. “Karne said that you tended to me when he brought me here. That means that you dressed me and put one of these around my neck the first time.”

  “I can put them on, but not take them off. Only Karne can do that.”

  “Of course,” I muttered. Then I slouched and shook my head. I just wanted Dal back. “Do you know where my things went?” I asked.

  “You were adorned in many things when you arrived. Parchment, glass, burning pieces of leather, and charred wool. Specify.”

  “I had wool garments for staving off the cold. And a necklace.”

  Yasmil pursed her lips. “Hmm.” Then she rose and went to a large cabinet on the wall, opening it to reveal small drawers. She pulled the second drawer out and leaned in to it. Really far into it. Her entire upper body was now in the drawer.

  Then she resurfaced with—my heart skipped a beat—my necklace, dangling it with a curl of her lip. “This?”

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  Yasmil tossed it at me without care. “I almost threw it out; it’s so simple I didn’t think it was worth anything.”

  I clutched the whorled shell to me, letting its rough string dangle. “You people don’t know value when you see it.”

  Yasmil gave me a contemptuous smirk. “I see a lot of things that would make you question your idea of value.”

  “It was a gift,” I muttered, running my finger over the whorl of my shell. Looking upon it brought me back to the diamondesque sand, the moon sparkling on the endless waves of the sea. Dal’s touch.

  “You’ll need a room I suppose, since against my better judgment, Karne has decided to keep you.”

  “My wool clothes. I want them,” I said, looping the necklace string over my head.

  “They didn’t make it. You barely made it.”

  “You mean I am to walk around in only this?” I asked, gesturing to the offensive kerchief wrapped around my body.

  Yasmil scowled at me, tapping a finger on the desk. She was wearing the same thing, held in place by a ring identical to my own. “Yes, only this. Come.”

  I huffed a breath of fury. I, the Warlord, following along like a docile puppy? But as Yasmil disappeared out the door into the maze of hallways, I had little choice. I followed.

  “Everyone has duties here to earn our keep. During the moonlight hours, we do as we please. During the daylight, we are to make ourselves useful. We clean, we cook, we entertain guests, we offer up our talents in ways that benefit the household.”

  I frowned.

  “Jamet was a painter. Karne’s favorite. And you killed her.”

  Guilt pierced me. “There are dozens of paintings in each hall, what could he possibly want with more?” I asked, looking at the breathtaking scenes stroked onto canvas with such expert skill that I wanted to touch them.

  “Sometimes she painted Karne, or other times she painted the things of his world that he took the time to describe to her. She made it plain that she was in love with him.”

  “I’m sure that didn’t go to his head at all,” I said in a flat tone, rubbing at a trickle of blood below my shard. It throbbed gently, but not as painfully as I thought it would be.

  “Karne manages to endear himself to us all,” Yasmil said in a low voice.

  We twisted down a narrow corridor that lacked the grandeur of the other spacious halls. The doors down this passage had strange symbols painted on the doors in red.

  “I’m sorry about your friend,” I murmured.

  Yasmil didn’t answer me. She stopped at a blank door, casting her critical orange gaze down my form. She stopped when she got to my arm, then turned to the door.

  I glanced down at my bold Kraw markings, wondering what they meant to her. When I looked back up at Yasmil, she was holding a tin of red paste and painting the door with a familiar symbol.

  “Do you know what that means?” I asked, staring at the shining red that said ‘Dragonfly Song.’

  Yasmil didn’t look at me as she busied herself stowing the tin of red paste away. “No. But I’m sure you do.” Then she opened the door.

  A quaint space greeted me. Simple stone floors, a rug in the middle of the room, a soft bed, an armoire, and a window to some glaringly bright desert landscape.

  “You sleep here,” Yasmil said.

  Part of me thought that it wasn’t so bad. Neat, clean, warm, and cozy; for a cage.

  “Spend the day wandering to learn the layout. Tomorrow you’ll be expected to work.”

  “I’m not staying,” I said, turning to Yasmil.

  She looked down her nose at me. “Don’t be so sure. Many of us never came here to stay, and here we are.”

  “There is nothing here that I want, so I have no reason to remain. I want this shard out of my shoulder before I go,” I said.

  Yasmil’s gaze flicked to my arm, then back to my face. “Perhaps that will be your reason to linger, then. I’ll collect you tomorrow.” And with that, she left me in the empty room.

  I went to the window with an irritated sigh, closing my hand around my shell. Where was Dal? Was he still hurt, or had he healed through his injuries with that characteristic Kraw fortitude? Was Lianne as uninjured as I thought, or did the lack of blood in her place in the vault merely indicate a forestalled death?

  The landscape beyond the window was a bright stretch of emptiness. The top of a sand dune was capped with strange distortions, the world beyond waving and shimmering in a strange blur. The desolate expanse looked like the complete opposite of the place of peace that Dal and I had sought.

  I huffed an angry sigh and turned, exiting the room, unsure of whether I would ever see it again. Nothing outside this place scared me, except maybe a rist
ulg. A good horse unencumbered by a cart should take care of that.

  In my search for the exit, I crossed that strange painting of a woman licking a tree. I recalled the other Kraw I had seen in one of these rooms, and curiosity pulled my fingers around the door handle. I beheld the room of books. A library, perhaps? I let myself in, padding onto the lower section of gleaming floor that preceded the stairs to four desks. A multitude of towering bookshelves marched on behind the desks.

  “Ah, the naked woman has returned,” a tall man with black hair said in a strange accent. “She could not get enough of us, eh?”

  “Everyone’s had enough of you, Zraine,” a short-haired woman with dark eyes said. Some parts of her dark hair were streaked liberally with bits of silver, while the rest hung straight about her young face.

  My eyes met the Kraw’s eyes for the second time. Brown, fanned by black lashes and framed with studious spectacles. His long black hair was tied back at his nape, making his tailored garb appear statelier. He closed the book he was reading, tilting his chin down to look over his spectacles. “So, you are back already,” he said as I approached.

  “How did you know—"

  He waved away my concern. “You know.” Then he pointed to my arm.

  I raised my lashes to the imposing Kraw man in front of me. His bones were big, like Dal’s, face broad, eyes piercing. But he was of a slenderer build. I had only seen Kraw warriors before now, and he was clearly not a fighter.

  “Dragonfly Song Clan,” he said in Kraw, gaze traveling from my arm to my eyes. “Of the hundreds of war clans of my people, that one is not familiar.”

  I spoke in perfect Kraw. “There are only two of our number.”

  A smile tugged at his mouth. “It warms me to hear the tongue of my people.”

  The woman with the silver-streaked hair spoke in the common tongue. “Oh stars above, he’ll never get any work done now.”

  The pale, black-haired man, Zraine, laughed.

  Growl said, “Tell me. How is it that a human has come to speak Kraw? Eastern Province dialect, no less. The war bands are not so scholarly in their tongue.”

  “That is a story for another day,” I whispered.