Authors: JM Guillen
Understandably, the fire distracted
Orin, creating the perfect opportunity to slip away. I dressed, then strode
from Orin’s garden house, mostly undetected in the chaos and madness, as his
bondsmen worked to keep the fires at bay.
As a beautiful woman leaving this
home in the dead of night, no one found anything unusual at my presence.
I stole my way through the confusion,
following the widest path in the garden. At first I’d thought to avoid the
crowds by slipping through the shadows, but people kept tripping over me,
running toward the fire. They would brush my shoulder or trip over my foot,
give me an annoyed glare, and continue on, frantic in their haste to put out
the growing conflagration. After the first few encounters, I decided to follow
the wide path around the other outbuildings to the side gate.
Nearer the main house and out of
sight of the fire, the turmoil calmed. Here I grew more anxious that my
presence would be questioned, but I needn’t have worried. Obviously a lady, I
carried myself with the bearing of one who would not be questioned, and Orin’s
servants asked no questions, quite accustomed to his ways. Most pretended not
to see me. The few that did actually acknowledge me simply nodded and carried
on their way.
I made it to the outer gates, leaving
only the simple matter of passing though them.
“Is everything well, miss?” The
guardsman peered at the lights flickering in the distance, a sign of the
unusual level of nighttime activity.
“The fire has been brought under
control now,” I replied, mentally urging the man to open the gate quickly.
“A fire!” He gasped but hurried to
the gate lock. “Is it bad? I heard all the commotion.”
How could he not have known?
He craned around, trying to get a
better look, but maintained his post nonetheless.
I had to commend the man, not even a
fire would deter him from his duties.
I added, “We are lucky; we might just
save the garden house. However, since it is unavailable for use at this time,
we have deferred my audience with Lord Devariis until a more convenient
occasion.” Without another word, I brushed on by, and he let me go, still
gazing back at the properties.
I was free. Sire Mattias’s plan had
worked.
The night enfolded me like a cloak of
velvet. The moment I stepped beyond the gaslight of Orin’s home, I breathed a
sigh of relief. Here, in the dark of the city, I was far safer than I was in
the home of a man like Orin Devariis. Yes, lawless men found a safe haven in
the nights of Stormhaven, but I could defend myself. Even after calling on the
fire, I had tapped only a fraction of the strength my Goddess provided me. Her
power still pulled at my sigils, a fiery passion begging to be unleashed.
The Mist and Days was only a few
blocks from Orin’s manse, but I did not make for it in a straight line. I
instead did my best to follow the flow of the townsfolk. A beautiful night in
the city meant the streets brimmed full with revelers and street merchants.
Still, I mustn’t take too long. Brys
awaited me.
As I slipped through the misty
streets, I kept my eyes about me. The last thing we needed was for Orin to know
that something had been amiss and have me captured.
Then I saw them, shadows following in
my wake.
They were cunning, I could say that
much. I hadn’t seen them trailing me as I left Orin’s grounds. Yet two men
subtly drifted wherever I turned. They wore dark cloaks with their hoods
obscuring their features, which left me little doubt. One had to be the man
with the black-streaked death-pallor from Orin’s manse.
They kept their distance for now, but
they moved with a lithe cunning that bespoke of training or magic unavailable
to simple street thugs.
I shivered, recalling his hissed
words:
I am not fooled, Handmaiden. Silence
now, and I will send you to the painless blanket of death.
Sire Mattias had been very specific
about his goals for my encounter with Orin.
“We must not let him learn you are a
Handmaiden.” He placed his hands on my face and kissed my forehead. “You are a
witless highborn, just some new dove he has tempted into his bed with empty
promises and sweet whispers. Use only a small measure of your strength to gain
his secrets, but otherwise avoid the Lady’s power if at all possible. We want no
one aware of our intent.”
It was too late for that.
The shadowed not-man had claimed to
know who I was and what business I had with the sorcerer. Did that mean Orin
knew as well? That would present a problem.
I still held more than enough of the
Lady’s passion to handle myself before some street-crow or alleyway thug. I
could even probably hold my own against an armed soldier or two. Yet to do so
without further calling upon Rydia’s Blessings? That was another matter
entirely.
I cast a glance over my shoulder to
see if they had tracked me around my last turn. They had. I swore to myself
under my breath.
Perhaps I could simply escape them.
Ahead, a carriage for hire ambled
down the other side of the street but not out of reach. I ran across the road,
waving my arms to alert the driver. As it slowed, I stepped in front of the
alleyway, hoping that it would stop between the two men and me.
It did, completely blocking me from
their view.
“Need to rest your feet, miss?” The
young man was polite enough, but I could feel his eyes on my skin.
I looked up at him, apologetically.
“I thought I did, but I seem to have dropped my purse.” I gave him a frustrated
shrug. “Sorry to trouble you.” I stepped into the alleyway before he offered to
take me for free. That ride wouldn’t actually be without payment, I knew.
Not that I would have minded.
Ouigiin
continued to pulse in me, a warm
presence I couldn’t ignore. It drew my attention to the driver’s smooth, golden
skin, no doubt a gift of being in the sun all day. His strong hands waited on
the reins. I took in a swift breath as thoughts of what he might do with those
rough hands hit me. Quickly I moved away before I did something I might regret.
The natural shadows of the alley
swallowed me into their soft darkness. I moved to the other end, where it
opened onto Arbor Road. I peered behind myself, hoping those two aberrant
shadows no longer followed me.
The alleyway held only emptiness and
darkness.
Smiling to myself, I hurried down the
road, past the drunkards and street-crows.
A man tried to stop me, calling out,
“Winterbloom for the lady’s hair?”
“Not tonight, thank you.” I smiled
but kept my voice firm. Typically, I enjoyed the blue flowers, but I had no
time for such indulgences.
When I realized he intended to push
for the sale, I walked on, ignoring him and his broad shoulders, his kind eyes,
his thick chest…
My steps slowed, reluctant to abandon
him. I felt the flower man’s eyes on my backside and allowed my hips to develop
a subtle roll. I took in a deep breath, holding it before letting it out.
Then, I saw one of my pursuers.
If the flower man hadn’t stopped me,
I might never have glanced to my side. There, lounging in an alleyway, stood
one of the men wearing a cloak with the hood wrapped tightly around his head. I
still couldn’t see his face, as the hood opened away from me, so I didn’t know
if he had seen me as well.
Hoping not, I picked up my pace.
People were just exiting one of the dumb shows at a small theatre ahead. I
melded in with them, moving as quickly amongst the crowd as I could. Obscured
in the throng, I glanced behind me.
Yes. He followed me.
Cursing, I sprinted ahead, running
into a street cafe. I nearly bowled over the young woman who served drinking
chocolate, and I pushed past several people who were trying to find seats. I
searched for the door to the kitchens, and once I had found it, I quickly
stepped through, surprising the spice-skinned man working the chef’s board.
“I apologize.” I gave him my most
winning smile. He had nothing to say, stunned by my sudden appearance.
As quickly as I had stepped in, I
found a side door and left the cafe.
In the alley, I ran. I ran as if
chased by savage cannibals.
After winding my way down Yrrim
Street, I neared the quarters where Brys ought to be waiting for me. I took an
arching bridgeway over to Mercantile Road. Looking carefully up and down the
avenue, I saw nothing unusual, just the typical crowd out for a night of drink
and distraction.
I was in the clear.
Even though I was considerably late,
I was still more wary than hurried as I walked through the streets. Yet caution
became more difficult as time went on. The Fervor of my sigils was always at
the edge of my mind, always teasing me with whispers I could almost make out.
My eye was drawn to the shape of a young man’s shoulders, and I felt
a gentle caress as the wind teased at
my skirts, pulling the soft fabric against my skin.
The slightest sensations became
erotic.
I needed to make my way back to Sire
Mattias. He would grant me ease.
I wended through the crowds, every
bit the highborn lady out for a night of drunken revelry, bawdy songs, and
carnal adventure. I kept my eyes on the crowd, however, always seeking one of
the night-cloaked men. Twice, I felt eyes behind me and turned, expecting that
I would need to run again.
But no, behind me was the usual
throngs, the night, and the gray of the city with the smell of the ocean wind.
When I saw the cheery, stained glass
of Mist and Days, I breathed a sigh of relief. With one last look behind me, I
slipped into the alleyway.
“There she is.”
That wasn’t Brys’s voice. I peered
through the darkness and saw neither Brys nor the carriage. Instead, two men
leaned in the alley.
I stepped back involuntarily,
immediately defensive.
“Where is Brys?”
One of the men spat. “Yer little
friend won’t be makin’ it, I’m afeared.” I could see his rough face in the
flickering light from the pub. “You been playin’ where you shouldn’t, girlie.
Taken what’s not yers.” He grinned. “We need to make certain you stay safe at
home next time.”
A third man, showing his dusky skin,
stepped from a side door of the pub. The laughter and lantern light spilled
into the alleyway with him. He shut the door and nodded to the others.
My mind raced, searching for a way
out.
Sire Mattias’ words rang in my head.
“Remember,
you are what matters. Don’t risk yourself. Do what you must to escape.”
I backed up against the wall. “What
are you going to do?”
The man who had spoken stepped
closer. “I thought we might teach the lass a lesson. It’s dangerous out here in
the night.” His grin was a hungry leer. “You never know what men might do in a
darkened street.”
My voice was a shadow of a whisper.
“Don’t.” My eyes darted around. “I’ll scream. I’ll scream, and the guard—”
“If she screams we’ll have to have
her tongue out, won’t we?” That was the second man, standing behind the first.
“Although, with her mouth painted up like that, a man can think of other things
her pretty tongue might be good for.”
The first one grabbed for me. I
flinched back, and he caught the top of my dress. He pulled, and it tore even
further, showing far too much skin.
“That’s all we needed to see, pet.
Lil’ whore like you shouldn’t be flauntin’ her wares out where honest men can
see her. Girl like that deserves to be taught a lesson.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off my
chest. I arched my back just a touch and lowered my voice to a kitten’s mewl.
“Please. Please, don’t—”
Ouigiin
still burned with power, rippling
through my body with pleasure. It begged for release.
“I’ll do what I like.” He reached for
me, dark hunger plain on his face. When he touched my skin, I turned my green
eyes toward him.
I smiled.
As the man lay a rough hand on my
skin, his desire formed a bond of passion and duty between us. With less than a
thought, I released the power of
Ouigiin
. No minor bond this time. Where
Orin had sipped at a stream, this man was forced to swallow an ocean.
I let the silver and red power burn.
His eyes widened.
His lust turned to horror, then to
awe as Rydia’s power flowed through me. I used his emotion as tinder for my
Goddess’ Flame. It burned away his strength, his resolve to harm me. I watched
as the man he was fell away to ashes of his broken will.
In my mind, the sigil danced. It sang
my name and whispered secrets. As I called on it, the memory of my time with
Sire Mattias rippled through my body and mind.