Chapter 10
Ten
Timur
“It’d be easier if you use my chair,” I offered for the third time tonight.
“It’s fine,” Elaine refused for the third time too. “We have enough time to get there, don’t we? I’ll walk.”
We did have enough time. She made sure of it when she’d insisted we leave much earlier than normal. And I knew the reason for that. Elaine didn’t want to get too close to me, keeping her distance ever since I kissed and licked her body like a starving beast in the rain yesterday.
My mouth watered at the memory. The taste of her freshly soaped skin flavored with rainwater haunted me, keeping me awake.
It’d even banished the usual nightmares into the farthest corners of my mind.
Yearning for Elaine was its own kind of torment, but I far preferred it to reliving the tortures of my past in all my dreams.
I mourned the loss of having Elaine on my lap. I longed to explain it all to her somehow. But what would I tell her? That I had so far mutated from my own species, I had become closer to the animal that had tried to kill me?
I aligned my chair with her, slowing down to match her uneven pace up the path as we ascended the Wall.
I made sure to keep her on my right, between my chair and the cliff face.
Her steps were unsure. She tripped often in the dark, and the mere thought of her falling off the path raked me with fear I’d never experienced before.
“Here.” I offered her my hand. “If you don’t want to sit on my lap, at least hold on to me.”
It was my right hand, the one that had long succumbed to the dragon’s poison. It had eaten away my skin and flesh, reshaping my bones into claws with long, curved talons. I rarely even looked at it myself, repulsed by the hideous sight.
Now we both stared at it, the bones of my deformed hand gleaming in the night.
“Or you can just hold on to the chair’s armrest,” I muttered, making a move to hide my hand under the cloak again.
“No. It’s fine,” she said quickly, wrapping her warm fingers around the cool bones of my phalanges.
Without skin, I couldn’t feel anything beyond the warmth, but I still relished the connection. Something inside me settled and calmed as she held my hand. She tripped over a rock on the path, and I instinctively tightened my grip, then loosened it again, afraid I might hurt her.
Thankfully, she didn’t take her hand away.
“I can’t see where I’m going. It’s too dark,” she said with an apologetic laugh. “Not that my vision is much better in the daylight either.”
Having impaired eyesight wasn’t safe, especially in Ashgate. But I didn’t know how to fix it.
“What did your eyeglasses look like?” I asked.
“Oh, that’s a rather primitive design, really.
Two lenses and a frame. The lenses go in front of your eyes, so you look through them, and they sharpen your vision.
And the frame is just to keep the lenses in place and to support them on your ears.
” She paused, turning to me. “Have you really never seen a pair of glasses?”
“No.”
“Hm, must be nice for the entire kingdom to have a perfect vision.”
“Nice,” I echoed, my voice hollow. “I have it even better than the rest of the kingdom. With my right eye, I can even see through smoke and fire if I have to.”
She squeezed my hand gently, and I made an effort to shove my bitterness aside.
“How do the lenses make you see better if you don’t have any magic?” I asked, staying on topic.
“It’s not magic, just science.”
“Science?”
“Yes. Physics, to be precise. It’s the science of the way that objects, matter, and energy behave.
I’m nearsighted, meaning I can’t see the objects located in the distance well.
A concave lens would improve my vision, even bringing it back to nearly perfect.
The trick is to get the curvature of the lens just right to fit my specific vision impairment.
” She gazed at me uncertainly. “Do you understand?” Then waved her hand. “Not that it matters, anyway.”
“I understand,” I said.
I knew what glass lens was and what “concave” meant, though I didn’t get any formal education while growing up on the streets of Kalmena.
There were plenty of scholars in Alveari who studied the many ways in which objects, matter, and energy behaved, as well as discovered new ways to alter those behaviors. Only we called that “magic” or “sorcery” and people who dealt with it “mages” or “hags.”
“I wonder if a hag could figure something out for you,” I thought out loud. “Hags are very skilled in all possible kinds of healing magic. Some can even regrow a missing eye or replace it with an eye of another being, fae or animal.”
“Wow, really?” she exclaimed in wonder. “Though I’m not sure how I’d feel about getting someone else’s eyes. But maybe having animal eyes could be fun, like a cat’s eyes maybe? That can see in the dark?”
She tripped over a rock, then cursed under her breath, and steadied herself, leaning on my hand.
I tried to imagine Elaine with different eyes and shook my head.
“I’d miss your eyes,” I said. “They have all colors at once, and so many emotions, I fear no other eyes would ever be able to convey them all.”
She sighed. “Well, there is no need to talk about it anyway. It’s not like there are any skilled hags in Ashgate.”
Skilled hags usually lived in royal palaces or in the mansions of nobility, using their magic to the benefit of the most prominent families of Alveari.
But it couldn’t hurt to ask around Ashgate if there were any hags or mages who might prefer the freedom of the lawless city to the life of servitude in a palace.
Elaine didn’t let go of my hand even after we reached the edge of the path. Of course I didn’t take it away from her either, leading her across the desert to the opulent tents of our new client.
The moment we entered the main tent, Elaine’s shoulders tensed, and she slowly stepped back toward the exit.
The thick rugs decorating the tent, the soft candlelight illuminating it, the smell of food filling the air, and even the slow music played by a trio of musicians weren’t unexpected.
The word about Joy Vessels’ pleasure had traveled far and wide.
Our clients knew that in order to get their money’s worth, they had to make Elaine’s night as enjoyable as possible.
What took Elaine aback tonight, I realized, were the six men reclining in the silk cushions around the table in the middle of the tent.
Six, not one.
I moved my chair forward.
“Which one of you is paying tonight?” I asked.
Lord Arnaf, the one I had made the deal with for tonight, got up from the cushions.
He was young, barely twenty. The only nephew of a royal councilor in Kalmena, he wasn’t a stranger to finer things.
However, since he wasn’t a member of the royal court himself, his access to the royal sarai was limited.
He wanted more joy, and I had offered it to him. But only to him.
“We all will pay,” Lord Arnaf replied. “We’ll split the price between the six of us. You will get the whole sum as agreed.”
I shook my head. “Our agreement was with you only.”
“What difference does it make?” He shrugged. “She has six leilathas. We’ll use one tendril each.”
I didn’t need to look at Elaine by the entrance behind me. I sensed her unease on my skin.
“No,” I repeated. “That wasn’t what we agreed on. We’re leaving.”
I spun my chair around, turning toward the exit.
Elaine nodded, looking relieved. In the past two weeks, we’d learned enough about each other to communicate without words if something didn’t feel right. The unexpected deviations from the initial agreement often led to more trouble than it was worth.
Two guards suddenly blocked our exit, crossing their spears in front of our faces.
“Get out of the way,” I gritted through my teeth, resting my hand on the handle of one of my throwing knives strapped to my thigh under my cloak.
The sound of swords drawn swished behind me.
There were six lords here, all young, spoiled, and stupid. I had also counted four guards and four servants when we came in. There might be more in other tents or outside. I’d fight them all without hesitation to protect Elaine.
But would I win?
A decade ago, I wouldn’t doubt that the outcome would be in my favor. I used to be a highly skilled warrior, trained to fight for the queen since I was a child.
Now, I was only half of the man I used to be. Dread chilled my heart. If they overpowered me, they might take Elaine. And then what would happen to her?
The soft sound of her clearing her throat came from beside me.
“Double the price, and I’ll take all six of you,” Elaine said.
Her voice didn’t shake but sounded slightly higher than usual. She was nervous but hid it well. I ventured a quick glance at her, momentarily tearing my stare away from the guards by the entrance.
Elaine stood straight, her spine stiff as a rod. Her hands fisted at her side. Her feet planted wide. She squinted at the faces of the men before her, probably trying to make out their expressions in the candlelight.
“Double? But that wasn’t what we agreed on.” Lord Arnaf pouted like the petulant child he was.
“Six men instead of one wasn’t what we agreed on either.
Yet here you all are,” she retorted quickly.
“You want to divide the price by six? Fine, but it’s not going to make me happy.
If it’s my happiness you're after, double that. That way, each of you will still pay far less than the whole sum, and I’ll get twice what I thought I would, which will make me very happy. ”
She smiled sweetly, and my chest filled with pride for her. Standing there, with her body tense like a string, this small human woman faced six noble fae who’ve never heard the word “no” in their lives. Not only was she holding her own against them all, but she also dared negotiate too.
Lord Arnaf’s jaw dropped. One of his friends scratched his ear while sprawling on the cushions. Another one fidgeted with the precious stones of his chest necklace.
“Well, we have come all this way…” the third boy pondered out loud, playing with a lock of his long hair.
“You promised me joy,” the fourth lord whined. “I’m the only one who’s never been to the queen’s sarai. It’s not fair.”
“Will you pay twice as much then, Darfin?” Lord Arnaf asked.
“It’s not really twice, is it?” his friend countered with a casual wave of a hand. “It’s still only a third of what I would pay if I came here alone.”
Their other friend tossed the long strand of his hair behind his shoulder, getting up from the cushions.
“Darfin has no care about money, but I need to know…” he said slowly, sauntering toward Elaine. “Are you worth what you’re asking for? How good is your pleasure, Sweet One?”
Warning rumbled deep inside my throat. My fingers flexed around the knife handle under my cloak.
Elaine placed a hand on my right shoulder, her fingers fitting neatly between the bumps and spikes of the bone under the cloak.
“Well, that’s entirely up to you,” she said in the same clear voice. “I feel joy when I’m relaxed. To be relaxed, I need to feel safe. Can you guarantee my safety tonight? Mine and my master’s?” She tipped her chin at me.
Never once had I heard her call me her master before. But I kept silent, not revealing my surprise.
“You’re safe,” Lord Arnaf replied, pretty convincingly. “My people and I mean you no harm.”
Elaine took a long breath. I noticed a slight tremble in it, but it was safe to assume that no one else did.
“Great,” she said. “Let’s eat then? I’m so hungry, I could eat a camel and enjoy every bite. Shall we?”
She moved over to the table. I stayed by the entrance, my fingers still clutching the knife handle, my heartbeat still elevated, my gaze alert.
I no longer trusted anything Lord Arnaf had to say, and now I questioned my entire process of getting clients.
I vetted each and every one of them by interrogating our common acquaintances and using everything I knew. But my resources were limited.
Tonight, it became painfully obvious how fragile my control of the situation was. What could I do if an affluent highborn from Kalmena brought an army of guards to overpower me and take Elaine away? I’d die defending her, but would that be enough to protect her?
I could try binding clients with long lists of promises before allowing them to come anywhere near Elaine.
But that would require giving a bunch of promises in return too.
Each formal promise would weigh me down like an iron manacle, restricting my ability to make decisions and act quickly when needed.
Provided nobles would even consider making any promises in the first place.
We risked losing clients with a demand like that.
And what would happen if I ended up breaking a promise?
I would die, and Elaine would be left alone and unprotected.
Dark thoughts crowded my mind during Elaine’s dinner. At least she seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself now. With her cheeks rosy from a glass of wine in her hand, she chatted animatedly with the young men.
Instead of turning their backs to her, they had all taken seats around the table.
Each had a tendril in one of Elaine’s leilathas.
Once they got a taste of her joy, they had been going out of their way to pick the best morsels of food from the dishes on the table to feed them to her in their attempts to please her.
She laughed at their eagerness, the sound of her laughter relaxing my strained muscles and easing the tension in my chest to have some food and water too. It looked like my precious business partner had salvaged the evening after all.
Or so I thought, until the dinner ended, and Lord Arnaf got up from the cushions again.
“Well, thank you for a lovely evening,” Elaine announced, climbing to her feet and brushing the crumbs out of her skirt.
“Too lovely to end it, isn’t it?” Lord Arnaf murmured. “Luckily, we have more pleasurable things prepared for you.”
Elaine straightened, and I sensed her alarm without the need to be connected to her through any tendrils.
“What kind of things?” she asked warily.