Eighteen
Alara
“Changed your mind yet?” Halen asks me.
I croak out something, but I don’t think it’s enough when a slap stings my cheek.
I shake my head slowly.
“Still a no?” a pause. “Very well then.”
“She is very stubborn, my king.”
“Hmm, seems you are doing a good job with the wounds though, Emerish.”
“Of course, sire.”
I lift my bleary eyes to the two figures in front of me.
“She bleeds beautifully. Look, that’s already healing.”
A jab at my side, and pain blossoms there.
“Elves precede their reputation,” Emerish says.
“That they do.”
“Are you delivering the results soon?”
“We are just about to start.” A pull at my hair. “Carry on doing a good job, and there may be more land for you yet, Emerish.”
“You honor me, my king.”
“Pah.” One figure begins to walk away. “Update me. Get her to agree, otherwise I’ll have to use another elf. I have other things that require them and I won’t be best pleased.”
“I will get her to comply, my king.”
A door closes, and my vision waivers again.
I make another croaking sound.
“This is like the barn days, isn’t it?” Emerish asks, circling me until he hits my stomach. I throw up on the stone floor. “How I do miss you in there. Do you remember?”
How long have I been here?
Hours, days?
Blood drips from my mouth and I cough, the taste of copper making me more nauseous.
Just one thing, Alara, just one thing… I chant to myself, breathing haggardly.
“Answer me. Does the king know who I am? Did you tell the king or Rohan about the underground?”
The same questions over and over, but I haven’t given him anything, only my cries, my screams.
My pain that he loves so much.
I breathe through my nose.
Just one thing.
“You told him, didn’t you?” My head is wrenched back by my hair, my scalp burning. “Did you fucking tell him?”
Just.
One.
Thing.
Don’t tell him anything that can hurt them.
“Answer me, slave.”
My name is Alara.
This is what I want.
Just one thing.
I can do this.
I can last.
My head swings to the side with another smack, my vision doubling.
The burn on my side ignites in a wave of agony and I scream, vision darkening.
Emerish chuckles, a deep, nasty sound that makes my ears bleed.
“Come on, tell me and this all ends.” I see the burning rod, the end burning my flesh and I whimper, head lulling.
“I could even bring you back to the underground, that’s better than this, right?”
My name is Alara… just one thing.
“You know, when I sent you to die, it wasn’t just because you stole bread, it was because guards had been sniffing around…
getting too close to my business. So when I caught you with the end of a loaf in your dirty mouth, I’d had enough.
I thought—why the fuck am I keeping her?
She doesn’t bring in as much coin as she used to, always going to a distant place of numbness that others didn’t want.
Plus, I’ll die if I’m caught.” He kicks my side and I scream.
“I know now I should’ve just thrown you back down the well with that other girl. Left to rot.”
He circles me, and I feel the heat of the rod close to my exposed skin. My body breaks out in a sweat.
“My customers have been asking about you, though, and imagine what they would pay to get their hands on you again. I could ask Halen to give you to me when he’s done.”
My chin is jerked up, and I look at him through bleary, swollen eyes.
“I could ensure your silence in the meantime, so you would never be able to speak again. It can be an accident, the king won’t mind.
We’ve been good acquaintances for years, friends even.
Men choose men over women when they have the same peculiar…
tastes, you see. Not that a stupid fuck like you would understand, so, he’ll forgive me, and you will be unable to talk. Only scream.”
His eyes are alight with glee at the thought, and I grunt when he grabs my cheek and pinches it hard.
“Hmm. I see you’ve become bold since you were last left with your silence.” He shoves my face away and grabs strands of my hair, looking at it intently. “You think after a taste of freedom you’re better than me now? Better than a slave? You will remember your obedience and your place.”
He grabs my neck, scratching at the scars there and I cry, shaking my heavy head.
“Come now, Alara,” he taunts. “That’s your name now, isn’t it? Alara? How pathetic.” He pulls at my ear. “How funny that you think you can rise above what you are, elf,” he whispers menacingly. “You will never be anyone other than a slave.”
When he pulls my head up to his, and I still say nothing, his face twists into something nasty. Then his hand is on my side, digging into the burnt flesh and everything goes black.