“You said to lean on you.”
“Yes. Lean being the operative word in that sentence, not crush.”
“Are you calling me fat?” I lay a hand on my chest in mock disbelief, but I can’t hold back my smile. She’s just too easy to tease, and if I’m being honest, I’m just so gods damned happy to be here bantering back and forth with her, I’m down-right giddy. I do lift a little of my weight off of her though because, truthfully, I’m not sure how much longer she can remain upright like this.
Katya gives me a flat glare, but before she can respond, somebody shouts, “Aemon. Katya.” We both turn toward the sound to find an irritated Jael jogging toward us. “Are you insane?” She slips under my other arm then leans forward to speak to Katya. “You should have asked for help.”
“Uh, I’m right here,” I say.
And without a shred of humor in her voice, Jael looks up at me and says, “Yes, but you’re a male. I expect you to be a stubborn idiot.”
Katya spits out a laugh.
“You realize that means she’s calling you a stubborn idiot,” I tell her.
Katya shrugs. “You were the one pleading with me.” She presses a hand to her cheek, and in a high-pitched voice that sounds nothing like mine, she says, “Oh, Katya, please help me. I can’t stand the others seeing me in such a state.”
Jael and I share a look. “You know I did not say that.”
She nods, but her attempt to stifle the smile tugging at her lips is half-assed at best.
Jael leads us to join a group sitting around a small fire made up of twigs and weeds. It gives off a negligible amount of heat, but the warm glow makes me homesick for the surface. The girls help lower me onto a rock, and I grit my teeth and grunt and hiss and do my best to behave as though my back is still ravaged with pain. I’m not the greatest actor, and Katya gives me a sidelong look that I’m taking to mean I’m overdoing it. I feel like a complete idiot, but Katya’s right, the fewer people who know about my abilities, the better. I’m honestly surprised at how easily she accepted it. I would have expected a lot more questions, but I guess when you grow up surrounded by magic, the way she did, those things maybe aren’t so shocking.
“You thirsty?” Jael asks.
I smack my lips together. Shifting always turns my mouth into a desert. “Yes, please.”
Jael purses her lips, then turns to Katya and jabbing her thumb at me, says, “Well, look at who’s got manners.”
Katya chuckles. “He can be quite the gentleman when he chooses.”
“Thank you,” I say with a bow of my head, even though I know she’s going to follow that up with some snarky remark.
She lifts her chin and smirks. “He just has a tendency to make poor choices.”
And there it is. “Yes. If only I’d made the choice not to go after you.” I cock a brow, daring her to come back at me.
But she doesn’t. Instead, that smile slowly falls and her gaze goes distant. “Yes, well…” She turns to face the fire, giving her back to both Jael and me. We share a concerned look, then Jael pats me on the shoulder and slips off.
Katya doesn’t turn back around or even acknowledge that Jael’s leaving. Instead, she kneels in front of the tiny fire, her hands stretched out towards the warmth. The golden light limns her body and sets the flyaway bits of hair floating about her head aglow. I want to run my fingers through those silky locks, watch them flow between my fingers like a black waterfall.
But I don’t.
Humans of all shapes and sizes, and a smattering of surface fae, surround the fire. Some sit on the circle of rocks like me, others closer to the fire like Katya. There’s a hum of chatter that feels comfortable, homey even. I scan the slaves around the fire, then look past them to the various clusters of people dotting the wide-open space. There are males and females huddled together, some throwing homemade dice while others cheer them on, many more swimming in the river or washing the rags they call clothes. There are even children running about playing made up games. It’s all so normal if you ignore the guards, shackles and a stone ceiling where the sky should be. Then it hits me suddenly that I see males, females and children, but there are no babies. Not one. I wonder if the blood fae have been adding a contraceptive to the food or if something about the environment makes bringing an infant to term more difficult.
Jael returns with a tin cup of water and hands it to me.
I tip the cup back, gulp half of it down in one go and let out an appreciative sigh. The water’s tepid at best, but it’s wet and right now I’d drink warm piss if it quenched this thirst. “Thank you.”
Jael just smiles. Then she walks around the fire and over to a lanky guy sitting on a flat rock. The two exchange a few words, and he moves over to give the healer room to sit. I wouldn’t besurprised if the small fae had a contingent of males catering to her every whim.
A skeletal old man with about five strands of hair on his scalp and even fewer teeth, takes a seat beside me with a groan. “Jael says they set one of the creatures on you,” he begins, skipping over any niceties, like introductions. “What kind of beast was it?” The chatter around me suddenly stops, and I glance up to see that every person sitting around that fire is looking at me.
“You draw the short stick or what?” I ask the old man.
He waves a hand and gives me a gummy smile. “Nah, I volunteered. I’m Rand, by the way, and this is Tara, Gaven, Becca, Luci, Terrek and Mathias,” he says, finger traveling around the circle of people as he names them off. “You already know Jael.” She smiles and waves. I wave back, much more awkwardly. “And that’s Luc.” He gestures to a young man who has moved from his perch on a rock to sit on the ground beside Katya. “Watch that one with your lady-friend. He’s a bit of a rake.” Though I’m not familiar with the term, I can deduce by the feral gleam in Luc’s eye as he speaks to Katya that “rake” is the old-man term for man-whore. Luc isn’t particularly good looking. He’s short—probably a result of growing up down here—with oddly narrow shoulders and a yellowish hue to his skin that might have held a nice tan on the surface, but down here just makes him look sickly. But he’s also one of a handful of relatively young men in this place, so I’m guessing he’s accustomed to having his choice of females. Poor idiot doesn’t know he’s playing with his life talking to mine. He gives Katya a slimy smile and sneaks a little touch to her shoulder.
My skin goes hot, chest tight. My hands curl into fists of their own accord while images of little Luc screeching bloody murderwhile I break each of his fingers one-at-a-time flashes through my mind.
