“That’s the one. Their leader, and a brute at that. And you’ve seen his runes. Far more than even the most highly trained of soldiers, yet he keeps getting more, like an addict. And this pigment was to be used for his next set. He’s quite excited about it.”
“Then why are you using it on me? Won’t he be mad?”
“Of that I have no doubt. But I’m a dead woman, regardless. What do I care? What more can he possibly do to me? But beside that, he only recently received an additional set of runes, so he will have to wait a little while for his next application, by which time you will be fully healed. Now, take a deep breath and try to relax. I must begin.”
Margot did as she asked, her mind reeling with all the new information dumped upon her.
“Is it going to hurt?” she asked as the woman leaned in close, needle in hand.
Floxxia smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know your species, dear, so I guess we’re about to find out.”
CHAPTER NINE
The answer was yes. Yes, it hurt.
It hurt alot.
“Is it always this bad?” Margot had asked through clenched teeth, her jaw tight as she rode out the pain as best she could.
The old woman let out a sympathetic sigh, but her hands never stopped moving. “A few of the really powerful pigments can sometimes do that, and this one isparticularlystrong. That means it overpowers your own flesh as it takes hold. That’s just how it is with this sort of symbiotic relationship between person and pigment. But rest assured, once it’s firmly in place the results can often be quite impressive. Now, hold still and breathe. I’m trying to finish as fast as I can, but I want to ensure you have the best quality runes I can provide. If I’m going to use all of Gromm’s most prized pigment, I want to make it count.”
Margot did her best to relax, and she did appreciate the risk the woman was taking helping her like this. But still, the process was anything but pleasant.
Interestingly, Floxxia had informed her that when she performed her job as a Skrizzit back home there were actually many kinds of numbing agents that were often used on moresensitive races, keeping the entire process almost relaxing. But as a captured fugitive of a deposed government, she had not been provided with any such luxuries. On top of that, it seemed Gromm was a selfish penny-pincher, entirely motivated by money. Unless an expense was for himself personally, he would pretty much never relinquish his grip on his wallet.
Of course, in this part of the galaxy Margot very much doubted anyone actually carried a wallet in their pockets. They probably had some other sort of futuristic way of handling currency. What it was, however, she had not a clue. And given how uncomfortable she was, she really didn’t care.
After many excruciating hours, Floxxia’s hands finally stopped their torturous work. She wiped her living canvas down from head to toe with the only healing salve she’d been given, one not made for this sort of thing, but rather battle wounds. Floxxia said it might sting for a bit at first as it was meant to stanch the bleeding of injured soldiers, but on the bright side, the compound would actually kick-start the healing process.
Margot didn’t care as long as it took the edge off sooner than later.
One of Gromm’s men came to collect Floxxia a short while later. Margot rose to come with.
“No, you’re to stay here.”
“But I thought?—”
“Gromm says these are gonna be your quarters for now,” was all the man said, closing the door behind him as he left.
“What the hell?” she wondered, confused but relieved she was at least being provided something more comfortable than a tent. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll just stay here? Jeez, guys, way to make a gal feel welcome.”
But when she lay back on her bunk, the fresh tattoos itching from tip to toe, she was actually kind of grateful for some time alone. Time to adjust to not only the physical sensations nowoverwhelming her body but also to clear her head a bit. This was just one more ridiculous layer on top of an already very full plate of sensory and mental overload. With all she’d been through in just a few days, it was a marvel she’d retained her sanity.
“Yeah, but only just,” she chuckled to herself.
She was glad her sense of humor had remained intact. At least the gallows part, anyway.
It was several hours later when she was roused by a knock at her door. She’d slipped into a surprisingly pleasant nap that had snuck up on her while she tried to mentally tamp down the burning itch covering so much of her body. Floxxia had been thorough, and there wasn’t any major muscle group that hadn’t received at least a little rune of some sort, all of them connected with flowing lines that, she had to admit, were actually quite beautiful.
She’d never wanted to get any tattoos, but, given the circumstance, she was actually rather pleased with the artwork she’d be wearing the rest of her life.
Another knock.
“Coming!” she called out, rising to her feet, pleased to find that, as Floxxia had promised, the sting of the salve had dissipated in the short while that she’d snoozed.
She opened the door, figuring out the mechanical handle on only her second try, a little surprised there wasn’t a more futuristic mechanism but glad for it. At leastthisshe knew how to do in this strange alien world.
A very tall and handsome man was standing casually in the corridor, a tray of food in his hands. Rylinn flashed a dazzling movie star smile.
