She glanced between them. “What does that mean?”
“Call me when you’re done painting. I want to shave her before we land,” Tok said.
“Land? Where are we going?” she demanded.
Tok didn’t answer. He simply turned and walked out. Roll sat in a reclining chair.
“Do you think he meant it?” Wex asked. “The tattoo?”
“I think he only ever says what he means. So yes,” Roll said, eyeing her.
“What does a wrist tattoo mean in your culture?” she asked.
“Not ours. He meant a hunter’s symbol. It’s a forever mark. It means... there’s not really a word.”
“That I’d be his slave forever?”
“No.”
“Not his wife?” she demanded, her stomach clenching. Why did a thought that frightened her also instill a certain longing? Whatever was brewing between them was beyond her comprehension.
“Not a wife,” Wex said quickly.
“More than a wife,” Roll answered. “Canypscans can’t keep slaves. It’s against the law. And a Canypscan wife can leave her husband anytime she wants. She has that right, and he must let her go. Marriages on Canypsco don’t usually last ten years. Let alone forever.”
“So then?”
“When a woman has a hunter’s tattoo on her wrist, it means he will kill anyone who does her harm. It means, if she’s lost, he will never stop looking for her.”
“So she belongs to him,” she said sharply, a small knot of pleasure and dread unfurling in her belly.
“No. It means—something else. Only hunters know all that it means. So ask him if you want to know,” Wex said, taking up the paint. In quick strokes of the small brush, black and gold swirls painted her left breast. Then there were waves painted along her ribs.
“Beautiful. Deft hand, Wex.”
Wex nodded, but he didn’t speak or smile. She would’ve thought he’d enjoy painting her breast.
“You’re bothered by what he said. The idea of the tattoo?” she asked softly.
“He said it casually. It may have been a joke,” Wex said.
“Would it mean you couldn’t have sex with me? Would it mean he’d laid claim to my body?” she asked curiously, not sure how she felt about that. Of the two brothers, Wex was the one she felt she could be closer to. He’d shown her more tenderness and care to be sure.
“No, handmaiden,” he said, giving her right nipple a small pinch. “You belong to the crew until your imprisonment ends. Then you belong to yourself again.”
“Prisoners aren’t used for sex on Orius. You’re breaking the law by making me a handmaiden.”
“If you think prisoners aren’t used for sex on Orius, you don’t know much about prisons. Slaves and prisoners are always used for sex by anyone who is strong enough to use them for it.”
She turned to look at him sharply. “Were you?”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I’m so sorry.”
Wex smirked and shrugged. “It was the least of what happened to me as a slave. For some it’s brutal rape, but it wasn’t like that for me.”
“I’m glad,” she whispered. “It’s still wrong, but I’m glad. Do you think Larsinc was used in the Wilds?”
