Chapter 5 #5
Gods, I want more than that. I need more.
‘Look at me!’ I hiss, suddenly angry that I’m having to play these games.
He does, his eyes narrowing.
‘I’ve been a slave since I was a child. I know the worst of the Dark Realms. I want to know the Light.
I want to walk up a street and not have to lower my eyes.
I don’t want to have to call anyone ‘master’.
I don’t want some cunt who owns me to decide whether or not I have babes, whether or not I eat, where I sleep, if I’m allowed to speak, if I’m to live or die.
I need my fate to be my own. I wish to build a life.
I wish to be free. That is why I’ve come here, and it’s why I should be allowed to remain. ’
He steps back and actually rolls his eyes at my impassioned speech and my spirits sink.
This is but a pretense, I realize, likely for Locke and Dane, and others in Halsford who think like them, so that they believe the process to be an impartial one.
But, as Morgan said on the way here, it’s not fair in the Light either.
They have no intention of letting me remain. This is a farce.
I sit back in the chair and observe him.
‘How long must we waste our time in here?’ I ask.
He snorts and doesn’t even bother to lie. ‘A few more minutes, I suppose, to make it appear real.’
We don’t speak again, and the moments tick by. He paces the room, muttering about having better things to do, and then, as if some invisible sandglass has run out, he grabs me hard by the shoulder and hauls me to my feet.
‘Your fate will never be in your hands,’ he snarls. ‘Time to face the destiny that was always to be yours, human. The Dark Realms await your return.’
I let out a cry as his fingers bite into my upper arm, taking his anger out on me for stealing his time, I suppose.
He opens the door to take me back to the Hall, but falls headlong into the corridor hard, Fate wreaking its revenge as I rub my skin where it smarts.
He stands, shaking sense back into his head and holding the side of his face where he must have hit it against the stone wall.
His eyes widen as he looks at me, perhaps properly for the first time.
‘How were you able to lie to me?’ he hisses.
‘I-I didn’t,’ I stammer.
‘You’re no human, but I would hear the truth aloud from your lips.’
I say nothing, and he stares me down before pushing me back across the threshold into the room and shutting us both back behind the wards with a very ominous click.
He pushes me hard into the wall and curses when the sword at his belt falls, scabbard and all, straight down onto his booted toes.
‘Say it!’ he booms, and I cower before him at the sudden change in his demeanor.
All my promises to myself that I’d never act like a slave again are forgotten in the face of his master-like behaviors and I find my eyes on the floor, my shoulders hunched as I wait for barbed words and hard fists.
I don’t have to wait long.
He hauls me up by my hair, and pulls my face close to his before striking me hard in the stomach.
Winded, I fall to the ground, curling into a ball as I gasp, trying to get back my breath.
I hear something bang and he curses again.
‘I can do this as long as it takes,’ he snarls. ‘I have enough healing potions for hours. How much more of a beating will your pathetic body endure before you break and tell me anyway?’
I squeal as his heavy boot crunches down on my chest.
‘No one can hear anything from this room,’ he reminds me. ‘No one will come to save you.’
‘You can’t do this,’ I snarl in agony. ‘They’ll know you’ve beaten me!’
He bends down and laughs in my face.
‘They won’t,’ he promises darkly. ‘And if they somehow did, how many would give a fuck about some Dark Realm whore?’
My vision swims as his hand winds into my tunic and he draws me up, his fist winding up to hit me straight across my cheek.
I try not to cower, but he’s right. He can do this for as long as it takes if he has potions to heal himself. I can’t. If he kills me in here, it doesn’t matter how outraged Locke and the others might be. I’ll still be dead.
Or, I could be alive, and I could be given a place here even though they think I’m Dark Realm. Locke said it himself. The Underhill would use me if they know what I am.
I’m alone, both in here and out there. I was right. Only I can help me.
Perhaps there’s a deal here somewhere.
‘I’m Fate Touched!’ I spit at him, lowering my eyes and pretending he’s beaten it out of me.
He lets me fall hard to the stone floor with a harsh laugh.
‘A human Kismet. And they say Fate has no sense of humor.’
I stay where I fall, my hand covering my ribs where he stamped on me.
They’re broken, I know. But I just spent months in the pits.
I fought with worse injuries than this. Fuck him if he thinks I’m broken.
Arrogant fae. I’m nowhere near. Him. This room.
They have nothing on the training pits, the nighttime paddock.
‘You weren’t meant to beat me so badly,’ I wheeze. ‘They’ll see this wasn’t simply a talk.’
He pulls me up by my tunic, ignoring my pained cry. ‘As I said, none of them will notice anything amiss,’ he says with a cold grin.
‘Because you’re a conjurer,’ I guess.
I can tell I’ve surprised him.
‘Clever little bitch, aren’t you?’ he snarls, and, with that, he raises his hand and slaps me hard with the back of it across my face.
My head snaps to the side with the force of it, and I’m placed back in the chair, knocked half-senseless, my body slumping to the side.
‘Yes, I am a conjurer and I’m very good at hiding things I don’t want anyone to see. One might say it’s my skill.’
He chuckles like he’s made a joke, but I don’t understand it.
I vaguely hear the clink of glass and then, he’s slapping my cheek to bring me ’round. Whatever injuries were meted out to him by Fate for his actions are healed.
He waves a hand over me and smirks. ‘Don’t bother telling anyone. Locke, Jak, and that half-orc cunt can do nothing to me. The rest won’t believe a devious Dark Realmer like you, or they already know what I do. That you deserve it.’
I say nothing. I already know everything he says is true. Locke and the others might care, but what can they do? They have no real influence here, not even as fae. That much is clear.
But I’ve already put my plan in motion. Voss knows I’m Kismet now that I’ve let him beat it out of me, believing that he made me tell him. He’ll give the information to Calder, and that finely dressed fae, the real power in the room, will make a deal with me.
Voss makes sure I’m steady on my feet before he takes me back out to the corridor and then returns me to the Hall, being careful not to touch me.
I can only assume when I reenter the room and no one gasps, that, to everyone here, I look the same as I did before I left with the enforcer, but I can feel my cheek is swollen and my chest hurts badly.
I smile widely at him and I can see it takes him aback.
‘One day, I’m going to kill you for what you did in there,’ I promise, barely moving my lips, and so quietly that no one else hears me over the din of the crowd.
‘You can try.’ He laughs a little, but I see it in the way his eyes dart away from mine that I’ve unsettled him no matter what he pretends. He thought I’d be more scared of him after the cupboard beating
I turn away from him and face the room. I remind myself again, when met with the angry stares of the villagers, that, compared to my time in the pits, this is nothing.
But, then, I expected it there. As soon as we arrived, in my altered state of mind, surrounded by overseers and other humans who would kill me, I knew that pain and suffering would be my bedfellows.
I didn’t think it would be like that here.
I’d heard stories of this place. Even the name. Light Realm. It held so much promise.
But it’s not what I thought. There are still those with power here and those with none, it’s just the faces that are different.
And I still have none.
I should be used to this, but for the first time in many years, I find myself truly shocked. I ignore the jeering crowd as I return to Locke, feeling as if there’s a wall between me and everything else.
He asks me a question. I don’t really hear it, but I answer it, and whatever I say must mollify him because he doesn’t ask me anything else.
I try to ignore the pain when I breathe in and out. I attempt to stand normally, as if my legs aren’t wobbling. I look forward even though I can only see the right side of the room with my one good eye.
I see Voss approach Calder and both pairs of eyes find me as they talk. The other fae’s eyes widen as he’s told what I am just as I wanted, and then his gaze leaves me and he appears bored again as he waves the enforcer away.
I hope Locke wasn’t wrong. I need the Underhill to want my power. I can only hope that the fae lord is simply pretending indifference.
Calder doesn’t say anything to the others. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. Perhaps he’s waiting for the opportune moment. It’s just another show. That’s all this is.
Fucking fae.
I decide to wait as well. It would be best if the entire village doesn’t know what I am anyway. Perhaps I can request… What was it Locke called it? A closed session.
I feel numb as the Council deliberates amongst themselves. It doesn’t matter what they say. I just have to make sure I can make my bargain with Calder before they cast me out.
I stand in pain that no one else can see, but I’ve never been more sure of anything. My life is in no one’s hands but mine now, no matter what they believe.
I’m not going back to the Dark Realms.
No matter what.
JAK
‘Something’s wrong,’ I say, not quite at Morgan who’s standing beside me, but he hears it anyway.
‘There are a lot of things wrong with all of this,’ he snarls.