5. Enargite
If there is one constant in life, it is the inevitability of filth. Yesterday’s blood crusts my fingers, though they are long since healed.
The space between bars is little more than a hand-width wide. When I tug at them again, they still refuse to budge. This cage is impenetrable, so I have spent the last few hours racing through possibilities.
Now, my plan has four parts: play Rholker’s pet, find Mikal, speak with the other slaves, and convince as many as possible to escape with us.
While I know that playing his pet means explicitly not escaping before the time comes—whatever time that may be—I need to make contact with some of the other humans. So, walking around the perimeter of my cage yet again, I run my hands along the rough metal and wait for the torch to run out.
Eventually, with no immediate actions to be made, the thick darkness takes over. I’m left with a hauntingly empty, excruciatingly cold room as an ugly prelude to the return of the memory slicers.
There’s an oily, black energy to them, nothing like Liana and her singing and scrying. If I am still, it’s almost like I can hear the wise woman’s chiming dresses, covered in stones that hit together every time she moves. When I hum to the stones around me, they are weak. I should have listened more carefully to her lessons and poems, maybe then I wouldn’t be discouraged so easily.
Words about monarchs and power swirl around in my mind. Holding my legs to my chest to preserve warmth, I absentmindedly rub the stones of the necklace Teo gave me.
More tears drip down my cheeks. They don’t freeze, as they did on the trek to the Enduar Mountains, but they leave behind wet trails that seem to attract the cold air. It keeps me in a heightened state of awareness.
That is how I am able to hear the footsteps outside this shack long before the door opens.
An inevitable hell.
Each crunch on the gravel walkway sounds louder than it did with my merely human ears—before the Fuegorra.
Slowly, the creaky, dilapidated door swings open, revealing the moonlight-soaked night. The silver rays illuminate the tall trees just beyond the six raven-black hoods. They enter without a word. The air in the room grows thin, and my chest heaves, trying to keep up with the lack of breath that’s causing my hands and feet to tingle.
They walk in a triangular shape, presumably with Dahlia heading the front, two flanking her, and three in the back. They stop in front of my cage, and the temperature seems to drop when they close the door.
White, puffy clouds of labored breaths form in front of my face, just barely visible before the light is shut out again.
I close my eyes, choosing to believe that it doesn’t make a difference whether or not I see their ugly vipers. My grip on the windows to my mind is tight.
“Estela,” Dahlia’s voice says. “I see you got our gift.”
Stiffening, my ears strain to hear her nonexistent breaths. It was assumed that she would know who I was, but hearing the name slip from her lips is as strange as watching a lake burn to a crisp. Everything about these women is unnatural, and I wonder why they gave me bread.
They are too small for giants or Enduares. So, I assumed they were elves, but I am still not fully convinced, as the elves seem to despise women. Giants hate humans even more.
“Open your eyes,” Dahlia’s voice commands, it sounds sly and guileful.
They gave you bread, perhaps you should see what they have to say.
“Human, we have brought you food and a blanket,” she says. Suddenly, the hiss of a match precedes a light flickering through my eyelids. This time, I do look. I watch as they light another torch, and warmth returns.
She looks around the room, and I feel the displeasure radiate off her in waves. She snaps her fingers, and the chairs and tables knit back together, setting themselves in their original places. I watch, wide-eyed.
“Who are you?” I ask.
Dahlia pauses. “We are the Six.”
“Aside from that. Why are you helping the giants?” I ask. “What have I done to you?” Despair laced in that futile question—I know very well people hurt people for no good reason every day.
“You haven’t done anything to us… yet,” Dahlia says. “And we have worked with the giants in the shadows for a long time. Mostly to alter your memories.”
I freeze. “What?”
She shrugs. “Little things to keep you in line. A few tweaks, and you forgot something you weren’t supposed to see, or perhaps you saw something much more awful than you really had.”
My eyes grow wide. “And you’ve worked on me?”
She nods. “Yes, but only once. You were young.”
The dream I had the first night I arrived in Zlosa lingers on the edges of my consciousness. I saw my mother save Mikal and I but I thought it was an error. “Please, there was a dream I had last night. It?—”
“Enough, we did not come to speak of what has or has not been done.” Dahlia holds up her hand, but my mind continues to race. The dream was reality.
One of the women from the back row approaches the bars of my cage, carrying a small bundle in her hands. From here, I can see the animal fur. Its neat folds are testament to how the leather was processed to be soft and workable. I can also see the basket, with hints of color peaking back at me: orange, reddish pink, green…
Food.
My stomach growls.
I force myself to look back at the women. Even with the fire, their faces are mere shadows. I take a sharp breath at the sight of their strange forms.
“Do you not desire these things?” one of the women says.
I laugh inwardly. Of course, I do, but it wasn’t that long ago that they were forcing their way into my mind, slithering through my most private thoughts and watching. Rholker had called them mind slicers.
“Why bring simple comforts to the woman you’ve come to destroy?” I ask.
There is a long pause that hangs in the air between us.
“You have something we want. The giants are no strangers to our coven, and we met with Erdaraj before we met with Rholker. We agreed to come in exchange for what we seek,” she says simply.
Her voice has a slight echoing quality to it as she lays out the facts. As if she were the logical one, as if she were helping me.
I’m left wondering what she means by coven. Is it some kind of court?
“You agreed to shred my mind,” I seethe.
“What are a few memories in exchange for freedom?” Dahlia retorts.
“Those memories are worth my humanity.”
“One night with a man, and you think his prick a magic wand that will save you with one hard thrust. You are mistaken. Come with us, and you can have a hundred men, each just as well equipped as your azure monster,” Dahlia shakes her head, and for a second, I swear I can glimpse the planes of the face below. Not enough to make out pointed ears, but… it’s something.
“Out of respect for who you are, we offer you this exchange. Let us do our work, give us the thing we seek, and we will help you escape this gods-awful place,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow. “Who I am?”
There is a pause, and another woman steps forward as the room fills with a slithering hiss.
“Will you help us?” Dahlia asks again.
“Why not just assist me in my escape and leave my memories intact?” I ask.
Dahlia pauses. “The contract was written in magic. We cannot forego that part without inciting a punishment.”
I purse my lips, wondering how someone could punish these shrouded women.
My plan plays through my mind. If I go with them, then I will once again be far from Mikal; it will also take me further from my people. Perhaps I once would’ve been a person who struck such a deal. But the under mountain changed me.
“I see things with my magic. We need a queen, and your people need liberation,” Liana had said a month ago. The seed was planted, and it’s already starting to grow.
“I cannot,” I start. “But?—”
“She has sufficiently refused,” another interrupts with a deeper, more ominous voice. “We will begin.”
Sweat breaks out on my palms. One heavy heartbeat passes, and another woman steps forward as the room fills with a slithering hiss.
“Wait.”
“We have waited long enough.”
Fear races through my veins as I watch them gather around the cage. The torchlight dances off the silver threads of their cloaks, giving them an otherworldly glow. I can feel their eyes on me, studying my every move, every breath.
I grab onto the windows of my mind and hold tight, bracing myself as they reach into the folds of their cloaks and retrieve small, slithering snakes, with eyes that glint in the dim light. My heart pounds in my chest as they circle my cage, their movements synchronized and eerie.
Invisible hands grasp at my legs and feet, hoisting me up into the air. The pressure on my back gives me the sensation of being laid on a table. My feet are inclined above my head, and that unsettles me as I thrash against the unseen bonds. The more I move, the more my movements are restricted with invisible bindings that cut into my flesh.
Fear gives way to a surge of determination. I refuse to let them invade my mind again, to strip away my memories and leave me hollow, without the time I shared with Teo.
As the snakes slide toward me with their forked tongues darting in and out, I take a deep breath, summoning the power of the stone. The Fuegorra at the base of my throat pulses with ethereal light, but they are far from deterred.
The snakes move faster, somehow crossing the distance in the air, circling my legs seconds before latching on. Dizziness starts to take over as I watch them curl around my ankle.
Then, also summoned from some far away place, water pours over my head. The frozen bite hardly registers when the water goes up my mouth and nose. I sputter and gag as more water pours.
Pain burns across my lower body while I lay there, desperate and sputtering, as one of the serpents bites down. Hard. Instead of saving me, the light dims, and I fall to the ground. The pain is immediate and searing, coursing through my body like wildfire. My vision blurs as the venom takes hold and my muscles convulse in agony. The women surrounding me hold up their hands, revealing pale-gray skin.
Then, they plunge into my thoughts.
I fight against them, desperately trying to hold onto the doors of my mind, and by extension, my memories. We return to the royal pools. To the glowing images of my mating mark still healing on my neck. Of declarations of love. Images of Teo”s laughter, his touch, and the moments we shared flicker like fragile candle flames in the midst of a hurricane. I cling to them with the strength of a drowning soul clinging to a buoy.
My grip was never strong enough.
Their hold is iron-clad, their intrusion relentless. They shred through the tapestry of my mind with an eerie efficiency, unraveling the fabric of my past like ribbons torn apart by the wind. That intimate connection I had with Teo is ripped asunder, leaving behind only fragments of what once was.
As they delve deeper into my mind, they penetrate the recesses of my memory, ripping away the tender sweetness of our linked fingers and passionate kisses.
My soul mourns the loss. But amidst the anguish, a flicker of resistance ignites within me. I refuse to let them completely erase our love, our connection. I muster every ounce of strength I have left and push back against the invading force.
With a surge of power, I summon the remnants of my memories, weaving them together into a barrier against their onslaught.
It is a mistake. The barrier I create flickers and weakens, unable to withstand the assault. A pain so exquisitely sharp rams straight into my skull, and I fall to the ground once more.
I gently prod at the memory as another bucket of water is dropped across my face. The details are blurry, but my body’s reaction is clear. I convulse against the thought of Teo touching my skin.
Horror leeches away my thoughts. Another stream of water hits my throat, but when I try to reach up and brush away the slick dampness, I find myself still bound.
Another splash, right on my throat.
Then another.
My breath comes out as white clouds.
”We warned you, daughter of Aitana. Remember, as you writhe on the floor, that we offered you a way out,” Dahlia”s voice whispers with a voice that reverberates around the room. ”We will return for more when the Giant King calls upon us.”
They leave after draping the blanket over my prone form. Warmth instantly returns, but I wish for a flame, for anything to chase away the frozen shadows now taking up space in my heart.