Wavespire:Characters:Shayla:Backstory2

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Chapter 10

I was in my room when I awoke, naked in my bed and covered in furs. My skin smelled clean, as though I had a bath, though I couldn’t remember bathing. I could hear Dugald singing. It was the same sad song he used as a lullaby. He was sitting in a chair next to my bed, and was putting a cold compress on my forehead, while stroking my cheek with a tenderness that made me think I was dreaming.

He said, “Finally awake, I see.”

I groaned but didn’t say anything.

He continued, “You are one stubborn little brat, you know that, don’t you?”

I smiled weakly and nodded.

Dugald sighed and said, “You didn’t turn into a fox, not once. You used my rule against me so I couldn’t carry out my threat. I can’t decide if I’m proud of you or if I’m furious...”

I muttered, “I’d prefer proud.”

Dugald’s eyes became cold and but he smiled and said, “I’ll bet you do. However, I’m afraid it’s a little of both. You’re not getting out of this unpunished.”

I was so weak I didn’t care. My body still felt slightly numb, so if he punished me then, I knew I would hardly feel it.

Still, he didn’t make a move to punish me at all. Instead, he just sighed, and reapplied the cold compress

Dugald said, “I know someone helped you do this. Who was it?”

I said, “Accalon.”

Dugald paused. His eyes flashed with anger.

He asked, “Why would Accalon help you?”

I said with a delirious laugh, “I asked myself the same question. Too bad I didn’t ask it before I left. He was the one that packed my bags for me—a bag full of nothing but light clothes, in the middle of the winter, in the middle of a blizzard!”

I began laughing so hard that I cried. Dugald slapped me once, temporarily pulling me out of my delirium.

He said, “That bastard. He’s lucky that he didn’t kill you. So, I guess he’s the one who enchanted the doll to throw me off of your trail?”

I nodded and said, “Yes. He read my notes and did what was planning to. He said it was you wouldn’t believe he helped me if you managed to catch me in time.”

Dugald muttered, “I’ll have a word with him later…”

It all felt like a dream at that time, mostly because I was still hallucinating from the fever. I found myself talking despite the fact I knew Dugald could use anything I said against me.

I said in a singsong voice, “It doesn’t matter if he kills me anymore. He’s been threatening to do it for a long time now, so why not? I’m a monster, monsters deserve to die. He’s constantly sneaking into my room, going through my stuff, staring at that painting, and threatening me, anyway. So why not?”

Dugald’s eyes grew wide, “What did you say? He’s been sneaking into your room?”

I said, “Yes, he wants this room back, you see. He likes to talk to me about what the painting says about me, and then he beats me up and leaves.”

Dugald asked, “How long has this been going on?”

I said, “Since he came here. He said he would kill me and make it look like an accident if I told you, but I really don’t care anymore.”

Dugald looked more furious than I’ve ever seen him. He was shaking with rage. His hand gripped the cold compress so hard that I could’ve sworn all of the water was gone from it by the time he reapplied it. His lips curled up into a cruel smile. His eyes were red again, and I flinched back in terror upon seeing his teeth. For a moment, they looked like they belonged to a shark or were filed down to sharp points. Then, as suddenly as it happened, his eyes were normal again and so were his teeth.

He muttered, “Wait here. I’m going to have a word with Accalon. I’ll be back to take care of you.”

Then, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I flinched. I would’ve hated to be in Accalon’s place at that moment. Still, I was mostly concerned for myself. Even though I thought he literally meant he would be taking care of me, with Dugald I could never be sure. And, as I thought of that face he made, it scared me almost out of my mind. It wasn’t his face anymore at that moment. It was the face of a devil. If there was a demon living inside of Dugald, then that would explain his manic mood swings, among other things. It also made him even more dangerous than Accalon…

I couldn’t have waited for more than thirty minutes when Dugald came back inside. I nearly screamed. His face was splattered with blood and blood was dripping from his hands.

He said, simply, “Accalon has until the end of the week to pack his bags. He’ll no longer be staying with us.”

I stammered, “What did you do to him?”

Dugald said, “No more than he deserved. Not to worry, his wounds will mend and he’ll be as much of a fool as he was before.”

Dugald washed his hands in the basin and wiped his face on the compress.

I asked, “Am I going to be bleeding that much when you’re done with me? I almost wish I never said anything to you, now.”

Dugald said, “Don’t pity him. He doesn’t deserve it, and yes, you will, but not today. This is partly my fault. You weren’t ready, and I knew that I couldn’t hold your mind throughout the entire ceremony. I thought that when you felt the euphoria created by the power, you would succumb to it. But, you have a stronger will than I thought. Still, even the strongest will can eventually be broken.”

I said, “You might as well have let me die in the snow. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that.”

Dugald said, “For now, don’t worry about it. I’m going to give you a temporary reprieve. This year, I want you to simply practice refining your magic. I’ll make you sit in on one or two more ceremonies, but you can just sit in the corner and rock back and forth for all I care. Next year, however, you will participate.”

I said in a miserable tone, “Yes, Master.”

Dugald asked, “Why do you think you’re a monster?”

I said, “Because, I let all of those people die since I chose not to act. I didn’t know what you were doing to them, or I never would’ve even cleaned the cells for you! I even let Banan die…”

I slammed a hand over my own mouth, but it was too late.

Dugald asked, “Banan? Wait a moment; he was the blond child from the church, wasn’t he? You knew his name? Wait—you liked him, didn’t you?”

I looked away and didn’t say anything.

Dugald said, “I see. You did. Why didn’t you tell me?”

I said, “You would’ve made me kill him. You would use him against me.”

Dugald said, “I wouldn’t.”

I snapped, “Yes you would! You told me never to get attached, and I did. You would’ve made me sacrifice him like you made me kill that lamb.”

Dugald shook his head, saying, “I wish you had told me. He had talent and he was well connected with the church. I could’ve used him. If I had known you were friends, we could’ve brought him into the fold together.”

I said, “Banan never would’ve done it, friends or not. He was incorruptible.”

Dugald said, “He did have more faith than I’ve seen in a very long time. You’ll be pleased to know that the ceremony failed. He died, but his spirit wasn’t spent.”

I said, “I thought so.”

Dugald asked, “When are you going to learn to trust me? I would’ve spared him if you begged me to.”

I asked, “Like you spared me from having to participate in the ritual when I begged you earlier, right? Or the way you spared my lamb? Or maybe the way you spared me from torturing the prisoners when I begged not to…”

Dugald scowled and said, “You’re forgetting that I’ve spared you from freezing to death, and from Accalon. I’ve been kinder to you than most, far kinder than my Master was to me. You know that.”

I asked, “Do I? I think you and I have very different opinions of what it means to be kind.”

Dugald snapped, “You should learn to hold your tongue, unless you’d like to have it cut out. You should know better than to talk to me like that.”

He leaned across the bed. I started cowering towards my back wall, whimpering, thinking he was going to pull me up by the hair and cut my tongue out, but instead he put his hand against my forehead again.

Dugald said, “Ah, your fever is back. It might be even worse.”

He took the basin and emptied the bloody water out replacing it with fresh, cold water, and then put the compress back on my head. I sighed with relief.

Dugald said in a whisper, “I wouldn’t advise trying to escape again. If I catch you, I’ll chain you up in the dungeons naked, temporarily blind you, and feed you rotten meat until you’re too weak and insane to run away again. Is that clear?”

He said it as though he was stating a simple fact. I knew he was telling the truth, and it made me tremble so horribly that the compress slid off of my forehead.

I said, “Yes, Master.”

Dugald continued, “I’ve mostly spared the rod thus far. I see now that I’ve been too lenient on you. Tomorrow, when your fever has broken, I’m going to truly mark for the first time. I’m going to carve a set of wings on your back to remind you that you shouldn’t attempt to fly, as my Master did to me.”

I remembered seeing the tattoos on Dugald’s back when he was naked in front of me. There was a tattoo of bat wings on his shoulder blades. I could guess that his Master probably did that to him the first time he attempted to escape. Dugald had indeed spared me from that, though he did hurt me in a fit of anger trying to retrieve me. Still, it made me feel sorry for him, and for myself. I began to weep.

Dugald said, “I don’t suppose you’ll believe me when I say I don’t enjoy punishing you, but one day perhaps you’ll know, maybe even when I allow you to take on an apprentice of your own.”

I cried out, “Why? Why do you make me stay with you then? You know I hate the rituals and that I hate harming other people.”

Dugald said, “Because I think one day you can be made to change. One day you’ll start to enjoy the rituals and you’ll learn that you aren’t a person. You’re a Magus. We’re above normal humans.”

I said, “Above them? We’re the same. I won’t treat people like animals.”

Dugald chuckled and said, “My Dear, Aisling, I would suggest that you treat animals better than humans. You think we’re the same, but do you suppose that they think that about you or me? No. Humans think that we’re freaks. They’re frightened of us and they treat us far worse that we treat them.”

I snapped, “We’re killing them!”

Dugald asked, “If you made it to an inn that night, do you know what they would’ve done? They would’ve shut the door in your face. They would kill you in a heartbeat. I wish you could’ve made it that far so that you could see for yourself.”

I said, “But the church took Banan in, surely they would take me in as well…”

Dugald threw back his head and laughed, “You are still so naïve. It’s cute. They took Banan only because his gift wasn’t as obvious as yours or mine. Did you notice his aura when you first met him?”

I muttered, “No.”

Dugald said, “If you made it to the church, they might’ve allowed you to sleep inside for the night, but you would cast out the very next day. We are their victims, not the other way around.”

I said, “But, you’re so cruel to them. You torture them and drive them mad…”

Dugald said, “It’s better for them to be driven mad than to enter the ceremony sane. Yes, I torture them, but I have to, to get them ready for the ritual. And yes, I take some pleasure in it, because causing pain is an art form.”

I glanced at the painting and muttered, “You and I have different opinions on art as well.”

Dugald sighed and said, “What would you have me do, Aisling? Our Masters demand wayward souls. Do you think you’re the only one who can be made a slave?”

I asked, “Are you a slave to them?”

Dugald said, “No. I do my job and they reward me with power. Think of it as though we’re their apprentices. When we do what they command of us, the rewards are great, but when we fail to do what they command, the punishments are far greater. One day we’ll finish our apprenticeship and will become much more valuable to them, and then the rewards will outweigh any punishment we might endure.”

I muttered, “And what are the rewards after your finished being an apprentice?”

Dugald gasped and asked, “Aisling, don’t you know?”

I shook my head.

Dugald sat next to me on the bed and put his arm around me, “The reward of completing an apprenticeship is when you’re dream becomes a reality and you become a full member of your Order. Really, did you think you would be doing this the rest of your life?”

I said, “But I’m not even an apprentice yet. I’m a slave. You said so yourself.”

Dugald said, “All apprentices really start out that way. Those fool Hermetic Magi would have you think otherwise, but they treat their apprentices like slaves as well. You won’t be a slave forever, Aisling. I’m sure your initiation will happen sooner than you think.”

I muttered, “What will change when I’m an apprentice?”

Dugald said, “When you become a full apprentice, the others will take you seriously, and so will I. You’re no longer expendable. You no longer do chores, and you’re given more freedom to research on your own.”

I asked, “And when will I be a full member?”

Dugald said, “When you learn what I’ve been trying to teach you. When you’re comfortable attending rituals, and learn your place in the world. On that day, I’ll make you a full member of the cult and tell you our secrets.”

I said, “I don’t know if I want to know your secrets. I don’t want to serve those things.”

Dugald said, “Whether you want to or not, you are, and you said so yourself. Through inaction you’re serve them. But, when you become a member of the Order, you won’t have to answer to anyone of our Order anymore. No one will punish you, not even me. You’ll only have to answer to them, and that’s a privilege in and of itself. By then, you’ll know it.”

I asked, “So what do I have to do?”

Dugald said, “Just be patient and learn to obey me. Eventually, you’ll have everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

I said, “I will try, Master.”

He ran his fingers through my hair and began to sing. It seemed a shame that someone with such a magnificent voice was so dangerous and mad. Still, I found myself relaxing in spite of the heavy thoughts on my mind. His voice always had that effect on me. It was as though the events of the day, while they still happened, were someone else’s burden and not my own.

As I began drifting off towards sleep I thought about the picture in the ice that I had seen earlier that day in the woods. Both my Father and Dugald were offering me everything I had ever dreamed of, and yet neither of them seemed to know what I really dreamed of at all. It made me wonder if I even knew what I really wanted. Most people would’ve taken my Father’s offer, especially during the moment he made it. And, if they didn’t, they would’ve already succumbed to Dugald’s whims to make their lives easier. So, why didn’t I?

Don’t mistake me as the type to not want power. I did want power, but not so that I could control others, just so that I could control my own destiny. I wanted things that neither of them could give me, things they probably couldn’t even understand. I didn’t want supreme power over a world that didn’t exist, but I didn’t want power in a world as dark and cynical as Dugald’s either. I just wanted to be free to shape my own destiny. Maybe one day I would take my Father’s offer, but on my own terms. Or, maybe one day I would decide to join Dugald, but I wanted the decision to be my own. Both of them offered me the life I wanted, but in either case, it wasn’t to be my choice. My Father would choose the knight for me to marry. Dugald would choose everything from the spells I would learn to the clothes I would wear.

Even now, if the Order of Hermes decides to spare me, I wonder how much of my destiny I can shape. There are certain rules that must be followed or they’ll kill me. Still, honestly, I’m not too worried about the rules. From the list they’ve read to me, the only one that I’ve violated so far is dabbling in infernal knowledge, and I really have only dabbled with it, thank God. Otherwise, they would’ve killed me right when they found me.

I think they’ll allow me freedom of choice, at least after my apprenticeship is complete, assuming someone comes forward and offers me one.  I only have a few more years towards completion of an apprenticeship anyway.  I think it also depends on who decides to take me in.  Truthfully, I’m bitter about the whole thing.  How can they claim they’re any different from Dugald?  They choose which wizards live and which ones die based off of arbitrary rules.  If you didn’t know the rules, as I didn’t, if they think that you’re too much of a threat, they kill you anyway.  It seems my choices used to be life in a gilded cage or life in a cage of thorns.  Now, my choice is life or death, and I don’t get to know the nature of my cage, but those rules alerted me to the fact that I’ll still be within one.

Still, on that day with Dugald singing to me, while I was recovering from a high fever, I realized that the most important thing to me was finding a companion. I needed someone to relate to, to love, and love me in return. I was so unbearably lonely. When I looked at Dugald, I saw myself in a few years. He was so desperate for someone to relate to that he was trying to win over the affection of his own slave. He could talk to me because I had no choice but to listen, and he didn’t consider me a threat.

Honestly, it made me wish I could relate to him, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t fathom why he did what he did and what reward could possibly make up for the kind of corruption his soul had endured. I wanted to like him, or even to love him, but we were too different. I thought about trying to change for him, but I knew that I couldn’t, at least, not enough. As for my Father, I had to forgive him before I would consider forging some sort of relationship with him. And, as for his choice of a knight in shining armor for me, choosing who I would marry was more important to me than simply marrying the first person that offered.

I decided that night, that one day I would find a true companion. Still, until then, I would play along with Dugald, and I would try my best to find some good in him. He was right about one thing, for now all we had was each other, sad but true.

Chapter 11

My fever broke the next morning, and Dugald punished me in the way that he promised. In the past, he did occasionally cut me as a punishment, but usually the cut was shallow and didn’t bleed for very long. His cuts on my skin were more of a visual aid so that I would remember my mistakes. It was nothing like what I was about to endure.

Dugald ran the knife into my back slowly and deeply. I could feel my blood running down my sides, but I knew better than to try to fight him. I bit into my own arm to prevent myself from screaming. My back twitched, and my body shook, but I didn’t even look at him while he sliced layer after layer of the symbol into my flesh. It was odd, but I could tell exactly what he was carving into my skin, even though I couldn’t determine the exact placing of the marks. He was carving petite angel wings starting on my shoulder blades and trailing all the way down my back. If I ever desired to make it into a tattoo, it would be a good one. The scarring would be very precise, the image obvious. I found it ironic that the tattoo on my back was the wings of an angel, when the one ones on Dugald’s back were those of a devil.

I thought, “He knows I’m not like him. That’s why he likes me. He probably likes the irony of thinking of me as his ‘good side,’ and marking me with angel wings to make the point. Maybe this is a punishment for me being too soft-hearted as well.”

Accalon watched the punishment from the hallway. Dugald knew he was there, but didn’t acknowledge him. I cringed when I saw his face. There were deep gashes on his cheeks, running from above his eyebrows almost to his chin. It looked almost as though an animal had clawed his countenance, rather than Dugald himself. It made me wonder if the beast within my Master had taken over when he reached Accalon’s room.

Accalon was also covered in bruises, around his eyes, his nose, and all over his body, and there were more gashes along his chest. I knew it was my doing, and we would probably have a “talk” after the punishment was over. Even though I hated Accolon, and I still do, I felt ashamed for telling Dugald what he had done at that particular moment. Being beaten by Dugald was probably the ultimate disgrace for him to endure. Even though Accalon did try to hurt me and even tried to kill me, it was as though Dugald had just told him to his face that he liked me more than he liked him, and Accalon looked up to Dugald as though he was a god.

When Dugald finished, he said, “There, I believe that is sufficient. Remember this lesson well.”

I said, “I will, Master.”

Dugald glared at Accalon, put a hand on his shoulder, and whispered into his ear.

I could barely hear him saying, “You will treat her wounds, and that is all. You will not touch her in any inappropriate ways or you will suffer far more than you did last night.”

Accalon muttered, “Yes, Master.”

Then Dugald walked away.

Accalon silently walked over to the table I was strapped to and poured the stinging liquid all over my back. I noticed he smiled at my pained gasp, but he was completely silent, continuing his work and barely even looking at me. His silence seemed worse somehow than his usual gloating tone. I couldn’t bear it, so I spoke.

I said, “Accalon, if I had known he was going to do that to you…”

Accalon said, “No, Little Bitch, please don’t even start.”

I said, “I mean it, I’m sorry I told him.”

Accalon said, “Don’t be. I would’ve done the same thing to you. Here I thought you were totally spineless, and you went and told on me. I should’ve known that he would find you before the blizzard could finish you off. You’re too goddamn stubborn to die.”

I frowned. With that statement, Accalon made me totally forget why I pitied him at all, and he managed to actually make me glad that I told Dugald. Still, I decided it would be better if I tried to hide it than to tell him what I really was thinking, that Dugald was right to like me over a weasel like him…

I began, “Well, I wouldn’t have, but I was delirious with fever and…”

Accalon said, “Stop trying to make excuses. You did what was right by you, for once, and at someone else’s expense. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you’re going to become one of us. So, since this won’t be the last we see of each other, we’d better play nice.”

I asked, “What?”

Accalon said, “Dugald told me that he’s proud of you, that you’ve shown some progress…”

I yelped loudly as he bandaged me a little bit too hard.

Accalon didn’t seem to notice and continued, “He’s going to make you an apprentice, but he’s waiting for the right moment. Congratulations, Bitch. It seems we have to start getting along with each other.”

I said, “I see. Well, will you accept my apology for telling on you then?”

Accalon grumbled, “Yeah. And I’m so sorry for hurting you and for trying to get you killed.”

His tone was seething with sarcasm, and then he leaned down and whispered into my ear.

Accalon whispered, “Though, I’m not really sorry. Are you?”

I glared at him and shook my head with a devious smile on my face.

Accalon muttered, “Heh…you know, I think I’m actually starting to like you too. It’s too bad this is the last I’ll see of you for a little while. I guess I’ll see you at the sacrifices you’re forced to attend. Goodbye, Little Bitch.”

And, thankfully, that was the last I saw of Accalon for a very long time. I did see him at the two ceremonies Dugald forced me to attend, but only in passing. He did seem to have a better attitude about me, though. Ironically, admitting that we hated one another enough feel pleasure at each other’s suffering seemed to make us closer. It was the one thing that we had in common, mutual hatred. At least neither of us bothered to pretend anymore. We became more like rivals than enemies, though. The arrangement actually made me feel safer. Our animosity towards one another was fueled into more constructive purposes, and I felt like I no longer had to be afraid that Accalon would try to physically hurt me. In my situation, I counted every small blessing.

There isn’t much to say about the rest of that year. I spent a great deal of time studying magic and keeping to myself. It gave me the taste of freedom that I truly wanted. It also gave me time to think of a way to sort of “create” my own companion. I began studying about familiars and how to make a connection to one. A familiar would almost share a mind with me. I would be closer to it than anyone else, because it would be a part of me. I could even change its form into that of a person if I so desired in the future, but I decided to take it one step at a time, researching the whole spell first and then taking steps to put it into action.

The first step in the process is finding an animal and befriending it. It said the choice of the animal has a great deal to do with the style and particular tastes of the Magus that creates the familiar. I was thinking that a cat or a fox would probably suit my style. Still, my options were very limited. Sadly, there weren’t many animals to choose from among those that Dugald kept underground, and I didn’t want to ask him for any pet-like animals after my last experience.

There were a few horses. Having a horse as a familiar could be useful, if I ever managed to escape from the underground chambers, but it would be a large animal and would be hard to hide, not to mention the fact that horses, above all other creatures, seem skittish around Magi. I didn’t want any livestock animal as a familiar, though there were plenty of pigs, geese, and even a few cows. It was too risky that it could be slaughtered by mistake, and picking an animal that is usually eaten would definitely be seen as a weakness by Dugald. There were the doves, but I didn’t want to keep an animal that was usually used as a sacrifice either. Dugald did have a few ravens for their feathers. He used raven feathers as components for some spells, and I was considering one of them. Still, I wanted to wait until I was absolutely sure of the animal I wanted to use. So, I decided to table the experiment indefinitely until I found the right animal. Just the thought that I might one day have a friend again, particularly one that would definitely have a great deal in common with, was enough to give me some hope for the future.

I also began to research spells that worked more with nature, particularly plants. After my few experiences with the outside, I had taken a liking to the smell of plant life and wanted some of it to sort of cheer me up. I also, as I’ve told you, lived next to a forest as a little girl. Since Dugald never let me outside to experience the forest, I decided to use my magic as an excuse to bring some of the forest inside to me. I told Dugald that I wanted to study plants and magic related to plant life, which was also true. So, he had the servants make a room that had no ceiling so that my plants could get sunlight and grow.

Dugald told me very solemnly, “I trust you will only use this room for your plant research. If you abuse the privilege, don’t expect to get any favors from me again.”

He was, of course, referring to me trying to escape from the room. He didn’t have to worry this time. Dugald made his position clear to me after my last escape attempt, and I wasn’t about to try again only to be blinded and kept in a dungeon. I knew now that Dugald was more than capable of catching me, and I accepted that as well. Still, I did have something in mind. If Dugald ever did something that made me feel the desire to escape was more important that staying alive, I would stand and fight him next time, and kill myself if he overpowered me. I decided to create spells to slow him down, or anyone else that was foolish enough to chase me. Even though I knew that more than likely I would lose, I was tired of running and feeling weak and helpless. As Dugald had put it, I was a Magus.

Just going into the room, however, was enough to at least give me some peace of mind. Sunlight poured into it during the day, and the plants made the place smell fresh. There was soil on the ground, and even small animals found their way inside. It was the one place in the underground lair that didn’t reek of corruption. When I was in my “greenhouse” it was enough for me to at least feel for a short time like I was free. When I had a particularly bad day, I would often spend hours in the room and sometimes even sleep in it so I could see the stars. Even though it was mostly a relaxation room for me, it also served an academic purpose. It gave me a great deal of information about plants and what it took to make them grow, as well as seeing what plants were affected by what season, etc.

I learned a new spell from my research as well, a way to summon vines from the ground to bind things together, as though instantly binding them with rope. Still, all of my vines always seemed to be blighted. They were eerie, black, dangerous looking things with thorns and red berries in the stems that looked like eyes (I’m disturbed to say that after dissecting one of these vines, I realized the berries acted as eyes as well). They also had strange knots in the sides that acted in a way like gaping mouths. They literally sucked liquid into them, while making shrieking sounds that terrified me. It was the first time that I realized my magic was corrupted by my experience with Dugald. Though feeding me his blood never corrupted me in general, as I think was his desire, it did corrupt my magic, and I sorrowed over that for a long time. I’ve learned to accept it now, after all, I have no choice, but it’s another way in which I’ll be forever marked by my time with him.

Fire was another way in which I began to express myself. Though I didn’t learn many spells, I found that when I looked into the firelight, I could make up shapes within it, the way I used to make up shapes in the clouds at my house as a little girl. I could stare at fire for hours on end, and I often would experiment in a room adjacent to my greenhouse that Dugald also had the servants build for me. It had a stone floor, but a dirt circle in the center for me to build bonfires to work with. Since the ceiling was open, the smoke could escape. I learned only one spell that year involving fire, a spell that was a burst of light, enough to blind someone trying to follow me, at least temporarily. Once again, my fire seemed too red and smelled mildly of sulfur, but it wasn’t infernal magic, only fire magic. It was just a side effect from Dugald’s blood, and the place itself, that would last the rest of my life.

The Magi who are interrogating me know this about my magic. They say that my magic is “warped and twisted,” but thankfully it hasn’t acted as a strike against me. They find the concept interesting rather than appalling. They told me that they had never heard of an aura of a certain person or place, when in contact with a young Magus, actually affecting the style of that Magus’ magic, but I was evidence it could happen. It’s a concept they’ve never been exposed to before. I think for a little while they were toying with the idea of using me as a research subject instead of having me killed, but, I’m not sure that would be much better…

As for the two sacrifices that I watched, the only way I participated was by staring unfocused at the altar from the back of the room. I didn’t watch any particulars of the ritual; in fact, I really didn’t watch anything at all. I might as well have been sitting in the corner and rocking back and forth, because I didn’t learn anything. All I knew was the same thing I knew from the start. It was a vivisection, done while the victim was still alive, and the victim stayed alive throughout the entire ceremony well beyond the time when they should’ve died. Since I wasn’t being “useful” I usually had to clean up after the ceremony. Usually, the head of the victim was still alive, and I heard some very disturbing things from what was left of the victim, but I’ll get into that later.

Even just standing in the corner as a silent observer, I could feel the power coursing around the room. It made me shiver with temptation and longing. I’m sure that Dugald knew that I was pretending to watch, but he didn’t seem to mind. My presence there seemed to be enough to satisfy him. I saw him occasionally looking at me with those red, devil eyes and nodding to me with a knowing smile. He didn’t have to say anything. I knew what he was thinking.

Dugald was telling me with that expression, “I know you’re tempted. Just say the word and I’ll let you attend every ceremony. You can harness this power like you did that day when you ran away. I can teach you to store it, and use it…”

Still, when the ceremony ended, and I was finished with my “chore,” I simply sat in meditation until I felt the raw, vile power ooze away from my body like an amorphous cloud. It wasn’t easy. I’m ashamed to say, I was slightly addicted to the feeling the power gave me. If only for a few minutes, I felt as though I had unlimited potential, that all I had to do was concentrate and my magic would be just as powerful as that of Dugald. Still, there was something else that came with the power, something that terrified me.

It was just a voice, a tiny, unassuming voice that echoed in my mind, but while the power was there, it was as well. The voice didn’t belong to me. Someone or something was speaking to me. After the first ceremony I was terrified, pretending that it wasn’t even there. Still, by the end of the second, I unfortunately began to talk and listen to it. I didn’t know what the voice was, the voice of the creature we were making sacrifices to? A servant of that creature? Or, maybe it was the embodiment of my own darker side? I think knowing what I do now, it was both an outside influence on my mind, and the side of me that secretly wanted that power only given a voice. Either way, while I meditated I fought with it.

It said, “You like the power. You love the way it feels, and you know you have great potential to wield it. The fact that you wielded it without training proves you have more potential than the others. Why not use it? To simply let it evaporate away like steam is such a waste. It’s a waste of power and a waste of the victim’s life.”

Still, the rational side of my mind said, “This is wrong. The power comes from a source that I want nothing to do with. I won’t be like Dugald.”

The voice replied back, “You don’t have to be like Dugald. In fact, use him. Let him teach you how to use the power and then use it against him. You’re already learning spells that could buy you enough time to escape from him, but you lack the power to attack him head on. Let me help you.”

I said, “Whoever you are, or whatever you are, I don’t need or want your help. I’ll figure this out on my own.”

The voice seemed to chuckle and said, “You won’t be able to resist forever. You know as well as I do that Dugald will continue to make you participate in these ceremonies, and someday soon he isn’t just going to let you watch. One day, you’ll be the one holding the knife. What will you do then?”

I didn’t have an answer for that. The voice dissipated, and I was left with a terrible realization. It was right. The last ceremony I attended, I found myself ecstatically excited as the victim’s wailing came to a crescendo and I started to feel the power about to course through me, like ozone before a lightning strike. And, from the expression on Dugald’s face, more power went into the executioner than the rest of the group. If I was the executioner, then I wouldn’t be able to resist. That also led to another question, one that I never expected to ask myself.

Did I really want to resist anymore? The last year had been paradise compared to how my life was originally. Dugald was allowing me to have a taste for what life would be like as a full apprentice, and I liked it. I really liked it. Even though his punishments were far harder to bear than they used to be, I was punished less frequently as well, mostly because I didn’t do all of my work with Dugald. Still, it seemed that Dugald was also becoming more lenient with me because occasionally if he felt a mistake was “inconsequential” he would punish me at all. After he taught me the basics of magic, I was finally allowed to do some research on my own. I had my greenhouse, and my fire room, and Accalon no longer was living with us. And, even Dugald somehow seemed different.

I could almost believe that Duglad really would’ve spared Banan if I begged him. Every request, big or small, that I asked of Dugald he seemed willing to give to me, as long as I didn’t attempt to leave. I had never really asked Dugald for anything before. Yes, I asked him to spare me the experience of killing the lamb and torturing the prisoners, but I think he considered those things lessons, and considered it a form or shirking my duties or trying to get out of my training with tears. I never asked him for anything material, like a lab of my own, or different quarters, or anything else. While I still longed for my freedom, I began to wonder if I could buy off my longings with creature comforts, or live in a cage as long as it was a big one. I actually went there. I actually began to believe that maybe Dugald was right. Maybe these people would’ve killed me just as readily as the cult was killing them. I tried to delude myself into rationalizing the horrible things I was doing.

And, during this time, I hate to admit this, but I was becoming closer to Dugald. When we got together for meals, he asked enthusiastically about the things I was learning. While when I started my studies we were sitting on opposite ends of the table, after he took care of me when I had the fever, he slowly started moving closer and closer to me. He made up excuses like it was easier to hear me, or easier to share the salt, but pretty soon we were sitting directly across from each other and no one sat at the head of the table at all. One day, when I got a splinter on my lip from the wooden cup, I found the next day my cup had been replaced with real silver one as well.

He was particularly interested in my stories about how my magic behaved differently than I thought it should. He told me that it was one of the effects of being raised there, being taught by him, and the blood that caused our bond, and that it was harmless. Startling, yes, but harmless. Then, he told me amusing stories about the sort of things that happened when he first learned magic. I tried to ask him more about his Master and what it was like growing up with him, but he avoided the subject a great deal. He did mention that he wasn’t the only apprentice that his Master had. There was another girl, a girl named Cassidy that was a very good friend of his, but then his face would cloud over and he would quickly change the subject. I had a feeling that something happened to the girl, and she was the reason he couldn’t forgive his Master.

I tried to get him to tell me what sort of plans he had for me, and why he had laced my food with blood in the first place. Still, he always dodged the subject or told me that it was to be a “surprise.” But, judging by the expression on his face, it wasn’t going to be a pleasant surprise, and it was as though he didn’t seem to know “why” he still did it anymore either. He usually looked pained, as though something was bothering him, and then refused to say anything else on the subject. I wanted him to tell me, to know what he had in store for me in the future. I wanted to at least know if he planned to do something bad to me. I felt that we had become close enough, maybe I could help him find an alternative, but it he didn’t seem trust me enough for that yet, so I let the subject go, hoping he would tell me eventually.

He began to teach me other things besides magic as well. Directly after dinner he would teach me dancing. He told me that one day I wouldn’t be his apprentice, and knowing what to do in a social situation would be useful. Still, from the way he danced, it seemed he hadn’t attempted to dance in a long time, and we often stepped on one another’s feet, sometimes even falling down and laughing until our sides hurt. And, right before we went to sleep, we would often drink together. He taught me drinking songs, and we sang them together at the end of the day. Oh, these memories are painful. I forgot that for a time, I was laughing and singing, and almost starting to love Dugald. He would warp and twist these memories into something sinister later, but at least for two years I was happy with him, and I found that good side of him that I was looking for, despite how things started out.

The second year started out similar to the first one. I spent a great deal of time perfecting the spells that I learned. Still, I decided to hone a different sort of skill and went back to treating the prisoners in the dungeon, learning about surgery and medicine. I always had much more talent for healing than for causing pain, so I decided, since I had the freedom to choose what I studied, that I would begin working on that. I no longer had to torture the prisoners that year, so whenever Dugald finished with them, I would heal their wounds. I mended broken bones, treated cuts and bruises, and even learned how to stave off the effects of diseases.

The relief on the prisoners’ faces was well worth the effort at first, but then, they began referring to me as “the angel.” It made me feel like the worst kind of scum. I knew what they would endure, how their lives were going to end, and even while I hated seeing the ceremonies and seeing them suffer, I knew at the same time I would get an almost euphoric high from their lives being converted into that vile power. I was giving them hope, knowing that by the end of their imprisonment, that hope would be crushed entirely. I began to hate myself again, and Dugald noticed it. About halfway through the year he forbade me from treating the prisoners, but the damage was already done. The rest of the year was spent going through the motions of learning while feeling the worst self-loathing I had in a very long time. I mostly just remember staring at stars, meditating in my greenhouse, and trying to somehow get back to feeling the inner peace I had when I accepted what my life was—but I couldn’t get it back, not at all.

Still, I didn’t show that side of myself to Dugald. We still had fun dancing and singing in the evenings, and towards the end of the year, he told me what I was dreading to hear the most. He told me that I was ready to perform the ceremonial vivisection myself. In October, around the time of my fifteenth birthday, I would perform “the most important part of” the ceremony, and, depending on how things went, the next year I would be given the opportunity to become a full apprentice.

I anxiously counted the days, dreading them, until it was time, and the time came far sooner than I would’ve liked…

Chapter 12

The man strapped to the table regarded me with a defiant grimace. I didn’t look at him. I knew what was in store for him, and even worse, that I was going to be the one to inflict it on him. The pain would drive him mad, and he would more than likely be begging for death only after the first few minutes, but somehow, the man would be alive for agonizing hours. It made me wonder if, knowing that I was the one responsible for pain, if it would drive me mad as well. I also knew there was no way I could hide my emotions that evening. I would cry and then, when Dugald was finished with me, I wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week. I dreaded it so much that I wanted to kill the man right then and there, anything but to hear the horrible sounds he would make that night.

According to Dugald, the energy harnessed from his pain would course into my body and I would be capable of great things. That evening, he planned to show me exactly what I could do with that power as well. I thought of the little voice, and was conscious of the fact that tonight it would be louder and more compelling, and I was terrified, but I tried not to let it show.

I didn’t tell Dugald about the voice, because I didn’t know how he would react. He might help me to silence it, especially if he knew that it was encouraging me to try to use my power against him. Still, if it was just another side of me that was manifested by a voice, then he might be furious that even a small part of me wanted to still escape him. And, in the worst scenario, he might think that I was driven mad and might start treating me like he did when I was a child. No, I couldn’t let that happen. Even though my punishments were worse, I was almost happy now, and I couldn’t go back to how things were, even for lighter punishments. I decided I would have to go through with the horrible ceremony like I had with the dissections, separating my emotions from my actions. I would just have to gird my resolve and make sure I staved off the effects of the voice. I would listen to Dugald.

Still, I never expected what came next. The man was oddly calm and cooperative for a victim. He allowed me to strap him to the table. He was one of the few prisoners that usually struggled and fought when we tried to get him out of the cell. Still, the last few times that we tried, Dugald beat him and tortured him until he was too weak to even walk, much less fight us, so it seemed he finally had learned his lesson. But, what struck me as most odd, was that the entire time that I was scrubbing down his body, and shaving his face, he was watching me closely. It was as though he was though observing the relationship between me and my Master. And, he began to attempt to talk to me about it.

He chuckled and said, “Pathetic.”

I didn’t respond, so he spoke up, “YOU are pathetic.”

I shrugged and started laying the utensils out next to the table.

He continued, “So, what is he? Is he your Father? I doubt it. You don’t look much alike. Did you come here because you wanted power—nah, you don’t seem the type. Maybe you’re his whore.”

I had been verbally berated by Dugald as a child, and occasionally he would still berate me when he was in a bad mood. During the past few years, we formed enough of a relationship that I could call him on it, and tell him not to be prick just because he was having a bad day. Still, before, his words cut into me, and eventually I got used to it. I’ve been called every type of terrible name, worse than any sailor could dish out. I’ve been told that I’m useless, idiotic, a waste of time, hopeless, until I had no self-esteem to damage. The point is, words didn’t do much to me anymore. So, I don’t know exactly why what the man said next made me so angry. Looking back on it, I think it was because the man was in such a vulnerable situation that he, at the very least, had no right to ridicule me as though he was my Master. I finally realized that I deserved to be treated with a little dignity, if nothing more than for surviving what I endured with my sanity entact.

The man said with a smug grin, “I think I know what you are. You’re his slave. I’ll bet your Mother dropped you on his doorstep. You were clearly too much of a freak to leave at the monastery.”

I paused and looked down at him, my hands were balling into fists, but I knew better than to mar his body before the ceremony.

So, I said in a furious whisper, “Talk while you can. I might be a freak, but I know what’s going to happen to you, and I’m going to be the one to do it.”

He said, “Please, you couldn’t do a damned thing to me. You look like you’re about to cry just strapping me down.”

I pretended he hadn’t spoken, “You clearly think that this is some sort of game, and that we’ll just kill you tonight and it’ll all be over anyway, so you might as well say whatever you want. In a way I can understand that logic, but you’ve managed to really piss me off. Today, was not the day, my Friend. I’m giving you this one chance to keep your mouth shut before I tell you something you don’t want to know.”

My Master looked up from his glass of wine. His eyes were wide. He was looking at me with a very curious expression, like he was seeing me for the very first time. His expression was that of a dog that just comprehended a human word. Still, since he didn’t seem angry at my conversation, I turned my attention back to the man.

The man said, “Oh, so it is that your Mommy left you here.”

Something snapped inside of me. I laughed, and it was the hysterical laughter of Dugald that escaped my throat, only female, a soprano instead of a baritone.

The words flowed from my mouth with such cruelty that I barely recognized the words as my own, as I said, “Since you’ve been so curious to know about my relationship to my Master, I think that maybe I should show you by giving you an example. The example is, of course, what’s going to happen to you tonight. You see, he’ll be preparing the ritual that will eventually tear your soul apart, but while he’s doing that, I’ll be tearing your body apart, little by little, and piece by piece.”

The man said, “I’ve been tortured before.”

I said, “I didn’t say I was going to torture you, you see, I’ll be taking you apart. My Master will be keeping you alive with magic, while you watch me remove every little organ that makes you tick. Your eyes will be pried open so you can see every last drop of blood in your body, and you’ll be able to feel pain as you’ve never even dreamed of it.”

The man began to laugh as though he thought I was joking, and I slapped him hard across the face, careful not to leave a mark.

I snapped, “Wake up, you Fool! I’m not just going to torture you; I’m going to vivisect you while you’re awake. One of the victims described it, just before their head died, telling me that they heard a terrible screaming and were very glad when it stopped, and they realized only at the very end that the person screaming was himself. Another described it as feeling every type of pain and shame imaginable at once. It’s like we’re tearing your clothing off for the world to see, only it isn’t your clothing, it’s your skin. Still, mostly, they usually just beg for death. They beg for hours, and every minute feels like an hour, and usually, by the end of the procedure, the victim is quite mad. One of them described it as an eternity of pain, so, I guess what I’m trying to say is that tonight you get your first introduction to Hell, before we send your soul there.”

The man’s mouth gaped open in absolute horror. I heard the sound of glass shattering on the floor behind me. Dugald had dropped his wine glass. His expression was a crazy grin and he was looking me up and down in a way that made me feel dirty. The man strapped to the table began to scream. His screams have haunted my nightmares ever since. I didn’t realize his bravado was really just a way of coping. His mind was teetering on the precipice of madness already, and I had just pushed him off of the edge.

Dugald applauded and then walked up to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. He was looking at me with adoration, even admiration. I had never seen that look on his face in regard to me, and the expression made me far more uneasy than even his cruel countenance when he was angry at me. I thought for a moment that he was going to bend down and kiss me. The expression suddenly made him look very handsome and even charming, and the fact that I noticed that unnerved me as well.

As I said, I no longer hate Dugald, but he did put me through Hell. He was unpredictable and dangerous, and I wasn’t in love with him. But, by that expression, I could tell that he wasn’t too physically old to find my attractive, or for me to be attracted to him, but that wasn’t what I wanted. The fact that now I saw a new dimension to him made me want to scream. I thought I knew what to expect from Dugald, that I could finally read him and understand how his mind worked, at least, how it worked in regard to me. But, this opened up entirely new dangers and worries. I never thought of the idea that he was capable of loving someone, particularly me. That thought still terrifies me, and it drove me to the verge of panic that day.

Dugald said, “You drove him mad. You managed to drive him mad just with a description of what would happen to him. I’ve never been so proud of you.”

I quickly said, “I didn’t…I mean, I didn’t mean to drive him mad. I was just angry.”

Dugald said, “And you used that anger like an artist’s medium. You painted an image that broke him down entirely. I can see now that all of the effort I’ve spent on you was worth it. Today, you’ve earned the right to be my apprentice, and the right to bear my symbol.”

It seemed that it was my turn for my mouth to hang open in horror. Dugald often told me that very few of his apprentices ever bore his symbol. Even the ones that became full apprentices sometimes didn’t bear his mark. He said it was an honor, the greatest honor to be bestowed on any of his apprentices. It meant that they were special to him. They would be bound to him for as long they lived, and usually those apprentices became high ranking members in the cult. If I bore the mark, it meant he would no longer threaten to kill me when I did something wrong. I would be valuable to him. All of my hopes that one day I might be able to escape disappeared in that one sentence.

I stammered, “No, I didn’t earn anything. He’s right. I’m weak. I was about to cry just strapping him to the table. In fact, I’m about to cry right now.”

Dugald said, “I know. It’s a little overwhelming. I’ve never seen you embrace your darker side. I always thought you were weak, but I was wrong. I was even starting to doubt that you had something like that in you, but now that I’ve seen what you are capable of when you’re angry, I can’t imagine what you could do if you put your mind into it.”

I was backing away as I said, “But you said so yourself, I’m hopeless, I’m useless, and I can’t do anything right…”

Dugald grinned and said, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. Today you’ve done something right, and tonight I’m going to reward you with the ultimate honor. After the ceremony I’m going to give you your reward. I’m going to carve my sigil into you, and then I’m going to spill your virgin blood on the altar.”

I was too shocked to scream. It seemed I was wrong. He didn’t want to make me his treasured apprentice; he intended to kill me. Still, being sacrificed is different than being killed. It’s far worse. If he truly meant to sacrifice me, it would mean that my soul would be taken by something horrible. I would either be torn asunder so that it I no longer existed in any form, or I would be spending an eternity with something even more horrible than Dugald. This must’ve been the big surprise he was hinting at. I guess, if I cared about the creature the cult was worshipping, being sacrificed to it would be considered a great honor, but I didn’t, and to me it was an insult and an end so final that I wished I had never been born.

I’m terrified to die. After all of the horrible things Dugald has forced me to do, there is no way that my soul is destined for heaven. Even though I prayed every night back then, no light touched my little underground room, and I could tell that no light could touch my soul in the darkness that enshrouded my Master’s lair. \

I sometimes imagined that my silent prayers were swallowed up by an invisible barrier that separated terrible people like me from the rest of the world. I felt that corruption’s shadow was over me even while I slept, so that I couldn’t even hope for any kind of peace, or to ever get the peace back that I had when I accepted what I was. I imagined death would be the only time I would feel true peace, and then only for an instant before I was swallowed up by the jaws of torment. Still, that instant of peace would be my heaven.

And now, it seemed that now I was going to get my wish. I was finally going to die, but my death would be on Dugald’s terms. He took away my last hope. No redemption, no hope, no moment of peace; I would be sacrificed. The realization made me feel numb. My horror was replaced by the mask I always wore when I hid my emotions, a blank expression as though I was separate from the world, floating through it in a dreamlike state.

Dugald said, “I’m relieving you of your duties tonight.”

I asked, “What about the sacrifice?”

Dugald said, “One of the others will take your place this time. Instead, you’ll be going through your initiation as an apprentice. I want you to ritualistically bathe and change into the clothes that I provide for you. The white garment goes beneath the black robe. Come down to the basement at the witching hour. Our work should be done by then.”

Chapter 13

Ritual bathing is just that, a ritual. I scrubbed my skin until it was pink. Still, I was grateful for the bath, because it meant I didn’t have to sacrifice the victim. Since the vivisection ceremony was important, other members of the order would be in attendance, everyone from Dugald’s few surviving apprentices to corrupted fairfolk would be there, so it made sense that someone else could take my place. I assumed it would be, with my luck, Accalon doing the vivisection. Any ways that I might’ve tried to spare the victim some pain, he would be trying his best to avoid so that he could create more of it. While I had an aversion to causing pain, he was drawn to it. He seemed to drink it in like someone enjoying a fine, aged wine.

I got out of the water just as it was starting to turn cold. A heated bath is a luxury, and since this would probably be my last day alive, I decided to enjoy every moment of it. The hot water melted the aches out of my muscles, and the perfumed bath oils made my body smell sickeningly sweet like a wilting rose. I brushed my hair and pulled it back, placing my ivory comb into the top of it, one of my few possessions left to me by my Mother. The comb depicted white roses, and that seemed fitting for a virgin sacrifice. On the stack of clothes there was also makeup, and I painted my face just enough to accent my eyes, put a blush on my cheeks, and add some color to my lips.

By the time I was finished, I barely recognized the girl in the mirror. I had never paid much attention to my appearance before, but for once I looked beautiful. It reminded me of the image in the ice mirror that my Father showed me. I began to cry, smearing my make up so badly that I knew I would have to do it over again. I was thinking about the wedding day that I would never have. I recognized that I was drowning in self pity, but I wanted one more night to live. I suddenly wanted to escape from Dugald more than ever, to change into a fox and run until I collapsed in exhaustion. Still, I knew better than to try that night. He would have his several people watching for an escape attempt, especially since I seemed less than eager to become a sacrifice. Besides, I knew if I betrayed him now, my fate would be far worse than death, probably worse than oblivion. So, I washed my face and reapplied the makeup.

The “white garment” was a very thin silk white gown that was almost transparent with a plunging neckline almost to my waist. I thought at first that maybe I was putting it on backwards, but I wasn’t. It was made to leave nothing to the imagination. I had only been a witness to one virgin sacrifice, so I understood the meaning. The girl that the fey tricked into becoming a willing sacrifice was a virgin. The garment was meant to emphasize an unspoiled body. And, the gauzy effect of it at least hid the scars from the many different ways Dugald would “discipline” me. The black robe was thick silk, black but trimmed in red. On the back Dugald’s symbol was embroidered into it in red as well. It was the robe of an apprentice, though it seemed I would only be wearing it once.

As I admired myself in the mirror, a heard Dugald’s voice in my mind, “It’s time.”

I walked the long stairway towards the sacrificial room like someone in a trance. My eyes were misty but I wasn’t crying, making the flames of the candles lining the walls look like miniature stars. I could hear the cultists chanting in a language that I couldn’t understand. I thought that they would be chanting in Latin, but then again, I knew the sort of things they were chanting to, and they had a language all their own. Then, as I reached the bottom of the stairs, the voices went silent.

The room was dark, but everything had an eerie red glow. There were candles on the ground around the altar with flames that shimmered black in the center and white on the outside. Still, the candles lining the walls were the same reddish color as the ones on the stairs, but for some reason their flames seemed smaller, as though the darkness around them was literally pushing down on the flame to extinguish the light. The cultists were sitting in a perfect circle, their hands resting on their laps in a very still lotus position. Still, all of their heads were turned in my direction. A few of them made audible gasping sounds at the sight of me, but I didn’t see any of their mouths moving. They were so still and disciplined that had I not known they were alive I would’ve mistaken them for statues. There was still blood on the altar, bright red against the white marble. I knew it was the man’s blood, so I tried not to concentrate on it for too long. One of the other cultists and Accalon stood up and began to thoroughly scrub the remaining blood from the altar, chanting a silent unholy prayer as they did. Soon, I would be lying on the altar and staining it with my own blood.

Still, the most prominent figure was Dugald. His robe was red with black trim, and, his eyes were red again as well, reflecting the flames of the candlelight. He extended his hand to me and motioned to the altar. My black robe fell from my shoulders as though of its own free will. I saw two cultists stand up from the corner of my eye. They were clearly blocking my exit and starting to approach me, probably thinking that I was about to attempt to escape and ready to escort me to the altar forcibly. I found it insulting. I knew from the moment my foot touched the stairwell, escape would be a wasted effort. I pretended not to see them and bravely took my Master’s hand.

He was surprisingly gentle as he led me up the small staircase. He lifted me up like a groom carrying the bride to the threshold and secured my arms and legs into the shackles. I didn’t bother to struggle. I decided no matter what happened, I wouldn’t scream. I would die with dignity and not give the others the satisfaction of seeing me cry. My face was once again a mask. Still, I made sure to lock eyes with every cultist around me, just to make sure that they saw the face of the person they were about to kill, and to make sure I knew the faces of the people who were about to kill me. A few of them averted their gaze, but many of them met mine just as bravely, even with a slight smile. A few of them even winked, as though they were in on a joke that I wasn’t. All of them with the exception of a few were exceptionally handsome or beautiful, clearly feyborn.

Dugald cleared his throat and began to speak in Latin, “Today, Aisling has earned the right to become my full apprentice and to bear my sigil. She used her anger as an artist’s medium, breaking down the victim’s mental defenses for tonight’s sacrifice.”

There was a general murmur of approval from the group. I found myself blushing, almost smiling, yet at the same time, hating myself for basking in their approval. Dugald had never acted very proud of me, yet now that he was, I realized I never wanted him to feel that kind of pride. If I made Dugald and the other cultists proud, it meant that I was as bad as they were. Still, somehow, while thinking of that, I managed not to cry. I was glad that I was about to die, knowing that he wouldn’t have the chance to mold me into a monster. That day I had given in to my anger, but it would never happen again, for that I could thank him.

Dugald continued his speech, “I can see now that all of the effort I’ve spent on her was worth it. While she is not yet ready to become a full member of our order, I’m confident that one day she’ll be among our number. That is why tonight, I will carve my sigil into her flesh and will spill her virgin blood on the altar.”

A few of the cultists began to chuckle and whisper.

Dugald continued, “All of you will bear witness to her initiation as is our tradition.”

They said in unison, “She will be one of us.”

Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to me. He said that I would be among their number. What if he wasn’t going to kill me? No, it had to be a figure of speech, and yet, I somehow knew it wasn’t. He said he would spill my virgin blood on the altar. That meant all he really had to do was drop a few droplets on the altar and he would’ve fulfilled his vow. Still, the ritual seemed too big for that. No, he would spill my blood. I would die, just as I hoped.

He pulled a dagger with a swirled blade from a pocket within his robes. He made a sort of sigil in the air and then hovered the blade over my chest. I closed my eyes.

He whispered, “I shall put my sigil over your heart, so that you may remember that your life belongs to me.”

I nodded. I heard the sound of tearing fabric as he cut the white garment down even further and shoved the shoulders from it down so he could see my entire chest, and then he scraped the knife deeply into the flesh above my heart. It took all of my effort not to scream. The blade was red hot and smelled of sulfur. It was as though he was branding me, only slowly, centimeter by centimeter. I could smell my own charred flesh, and every second was agony, but I didn’t cry. The cultists were chanting something that I couldn’t understand. Finally, after what felt like hours of pain, but I knew could’ve only been a few minutes, the knife became cool and the chanting stopped. But then, Dugald plunged the tip of the blade back into my skin, cutting into the burn wound, making the wound even deeper. It started bleeding. The chanting began anew.

Dugald said, “With this ceremony, you will be unable to use your magic against one of your fellow cultists without causing yourself great pain. This is to show your commitment to what we stand for and to ensure your loyalty.”

My brain screamed, “He isn’t going to kill you, you Idiot. He’s going to keep you. What did I get myself into? Why didn’t I try to run away? Blinded or not, I just got declawed. If I ever escape, I won’t be able to defend myself.”

But, I knew I had no choice, so I whispered, “Yes, Master.”

He finished going over the sigil with the knife and I felt a bolt of pain through my chest that dwarfed all of the other torture I had been through in my life. I wasn’t cognoscente enough to stop myself from screaming. The pure physical pain made my body shudder all over and wounded pride was the farthest thing from my mind. It was far worse than when I felt what Banan was feeling. My torture spell seemed like nothing but an irritating rash in comparison. I strained against my restraints, wanting desperately to curl up into a fetal position. I tried to beg for mercy, but nothing came from my mouth but an unintelligible jumble of sounds. Then, abruptly, the pain stopped.

Dugald pressed his hand against my cheek, wiping a single tear away, then said in gentle voice, “That was only a sample, Little Kit. Should you ever decide to betray one of us, the real thing will be much worse.”

Dugald pressed the flat of the bloody blade against his tongue and muttered, “You’re blood is so very sweet, almost sickeningly so. I’ll have to continue to nurture your sinister side, and rest assured you have one. Everyone does. I saw yours today, and it was quite beautiful.”

Dugald suddenly swiped the sword along just above my flesh, ripping the now blood stained white garment completely off. It was surreal to see his blade so close to my flesh without it managing to spill a single drop of blood. It terrified me to think of how skilled he must’ve been with a blade to do such a feat, but it scared me far more as I realized why.

His exact words were, “I’m going to carve my sigil into you, and then I’m going to spill your virgin blood on the altar.”

Everything began falling into place. Dugald’s words and his actions, and even the winks and chuckles from the other members of the cult, all made perfect sense at that moment. Dugald never intended to kill me. He was going to rape me. My virgin blood would be spilt on the altar, and everyone would be a witness to it. It was an initiation meant to humiliate me, and to show that I belonged entirely to him now. In some twisted way he probably thought it was also a reward. He must’ve been able to tell how I felt about my realization, because he flashed me a feral grin, the expression I was used to seeing on his face when he was about to make me do something that I did not enjoy.

I stammered, “Please, please no.”

He said, “This is all part of your initiation. Every apprentice’s initiation is different. I’ve never had a virgin, female apprentice that impressed me enough to earn my sigil. Most of them ended up as sacrifices on the altar, so it is only fitting that I should spare your life but sacrifice your blood on the altar in a different way.”

I said, “Please, not this way…”

Dugald said, “Relax. I won’t hurt you. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it, a companion?”

He took his robe off and was naked beneath it. Then, he climbed onto me.

I didn’t remember much about the incident for a very long time, that is, until my captors started making me recently relive it over and over again as part of my interrogation. I think they’re trying to make sure that I don’t feel like a member of the cult because of my “initiation.”

Still, I think some of them have a cruel since of humor and have made me relive this memory more than once, as though they’re just making sure that I’m sufficiently tortured before they put me back into the cell. I’ve assured them that I’m not tampering with the memory at all, and I feel no loyalty to Dugald whatsoever. What he did to me changed our relationship in a very negative way.

I felt totally betrayed. If he had bothered to court me, maybe we would’ve ended up as lovers, but not like that. This humiliated me in front of the other members of the cult, robbed me of the magic of my first time, and made me realize that, even though I was almost considering Dugald as a friend, he was too unpredictable and dangerous to be a companion. It was my own fault. I offered my neck to the wolf, so why did I feel betrayed when he took it? He did what he did for many reasons, but at the time, I thought it was mostly to shame me.

I don’t care to recall the details of what happened, but suffice to say it wasn’t pleasant so much as embarrassing and confusing. I didn’t feel much pleasure from it, and the pleasure I did feel made me feel so dirty and disgusted. He kissed me, and while I could see he felt passion and affection for me, I didn’t reciprocate it. For the first few minutes I screamed and struggled, but the crowd seemed to enjoy that far too much, so eventually I somehow managed to let my mind slip away into the usual place that it goes when I’m doing something horrific. Then, I didn’t cry or scream. My eyes were dead and staring. I saw the other cultists laughing and jeering at me, but I waited.

Time was my best friend when I was working with Dugald. Time was the only thing that pitied me and showed me mercy. The passage of time was the one constant that told me that this would end just as all of the terrible things I was forced to do ended. Soon I would be in my own room again, and then I could let myself scream and cry and finally be alone with my thoughts. Until then, I wouldn’t think and wouldn’t feel anything, good or bad.

Chapter 14

It wasn’t over quickly, but in my mind, it was. He freed me from the table and led me, bewildered and stumbling to my room. From his expression, I knew that he enjoyed the ceremony. He had a goofy grin on his face and was even giggling as though he was a teenager.

He said, “What an exquisite ending to an exquisite day. Get some sleep, Little Kit. You’ve earned it.”

My skin crawled with the connotation of the words. Then, he bent down and kissed me goodnight. It was such a tender kiss, but I couldn’t return it. I just looked up at him, confused and shamed, with an expression like a cracked China doll. My eyes were unfocused and misty, but I couldn’t even bring myself to cry. When I didn’t return his kiss, there was a sad and disappointed look on his face, but he seemed to understand. He paused as though he was going to say something else, maybe something kind or comforting, but the words seemed to die in his throat. He put a hand on my shoulder instead, nodded to me, and then walked towards his room, singing something in a quiet whisper.

The moment my door was closed, I rushed over to the tub, knowing some higher power must’ve taken pity on me because I had forgotten to drain it, and immediately stepped in. The water was cold, but I didn’t care. I wanted his scent off of me. I could still smell him. His smell was the aroma of incense, blood, and a musky odor, like the scent he had as a wolf, only it felt as though his scent had seeped into my skin. I scrubbed my skin until I bled, but I still wasn’t able to get the smell off of me entirely. Finally, I gave up and drained the tub, put on my robe and threw myself onto the bed and sobbed and screamed. Then, when I cried so hard that I didn’t think I could anymore, I was left with a numb exhausted feeling and a headache. The events of the day were starting to feel so surreal,I decided to take Dugald’s advice and go to sleep.

Before I could even close my eyes, I was interrupted by a knock on the door. For a moment I panicked, thinking that Dugald must’ve heard me crying and was coming back to punish me. Still, I realized, that if Dugald was angry, he simply would’ve thrown the door open and come in. So, I bound the robe as tightly as I could and went to the door.

Accalon greeted me with his usual wide grin and asked, “May I come in?”

I snapped, “I’d really rather you didn’t. Though, I’m glad that for once you had the courtesy to knock.”

He said, “Well, you’re a full apprentice and you bear Dugald’s mark. I can be civil to you now.”

I asked, “So, to what do I owe this civil visit?”

Accalon’s expression changed.

He actually looked serious and sincere as he said, “I wanted to make sure you knew why he ravaged you.”

I said, “He told me it was because his other virgin apprentices ‘had their virgin blood spilt on the altar.’ Still, I think it was mostly because he liked the irony and wanted to humiliate me. He must’ve thought it was one damn funny joke.”

Accalon said, “Well, I’m sure he did enjoy the irony, but that isn’t why he did it. He was doing you a kindness.”

I asked, “Was he? Was he really? And what kindness is that?”

Accalon said, “He was making everyone aware that you are no longer a virgin. You see, not all of his virgin apprentices were sacrificed by him. Some of them tried to escape and when the other cultists caught them, they used them as sacrifices. He wanted to make you unsuitable for that sort of thing.”

I asked, “Why did he do it like that? There were other ways he could’ve made me unsuitable than shaming me in front of everyone. I was actually starting to like him, only to find out he was stringing me along all this time!”

Accalon said, “No, Aisling. He wasn’t stringing you along. Dugald’s loves you. Otherwise, he would’ve killed you the first time you tried to escape, or the second.”

I said, “I don’t believe you.”

Accalon said, “He’s grooming you for the ultimate honor.”

I asked, “What, this wasn’t it? What does he want to do with me?”

Accalon shifted from foot to foot, “I can’t tell you any more than that.”

I snapped, “Then why did you mention it?”

Accalon said, “Because, honestly I’m jealous of you. Dugald didn’t choose me for what he has in store for you, and I offered my entire self to him. I think you’re very ungrateful.”

I said, “Oh really? Why is that?”

Accalon snapped, “He took you in when you would’ve starved to death over the winter. He’s teaching you how to use your gift, and he’s even given you the honor of bearing his sigil. Aren’t you the smallest bit grateful for that?”

I said, “I don’t know. Should I be? He also beats me, makes me feel worthless, deceives me, threatens my life, and forces me to horrible things that I would rather die than actually do. Tonight he even raped me. He doesn’t love me. He just likes watching me suffer.”

Accalon said, “Despite what you might think, he does love you. In fact, I’m not sure if he’s going to give you the ultimate honor or not, because it would mean he would lose you. I’ve never seen him so conflicted.”

I asked, “Conflicted?”

Accalon said, “I think I know why he likes you. You remind him of Cassidy. She was sort of like his ‘good’ half when they were growing up.”

The truth was out. I suspected as much, but it still didn’t make me feel any better. In fact, it somehow made me feel even worse.

I asked, “So, he’s keeping me around because I remind him of someone else?”

Accalon leaned in and whispered, “That’s probably not the only reason. He admires you for your spirit. Dugald’s Master could never break Cassidy’s spirit either. She was afraid of him, and did what he said because of it, but she still acted as a sort of conscience to Dugald. Even though they both did terrible things, she wouldn’t let him go a step too far.”

I asked, “What happened to her?”

Accalon frowned and said, “One day their Master tried to infuse a demon into each of them. When she refused he made her into a virgin sacrifice. Dugald was forced to make the sacrifice himself. He never forgave his Master, and it’s why he killed him. Without her, well, Dugald became what he is today. Frankly, I think he’s changed for the better.”

I muttered, “You would. That’s very sad. I could feel pity for him, if he hadn’t just deceived me into one of the most humiliating things I’ve ever done in my life.”

Accalon continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “Anyway, he’s grown attached to you now, and to give you the honor he was going to, he would have to kill you. Now he doesn’t want to do it.”

I snarled, “Good, I hope he does kill me. Is that why you came looking for me, to tell me all of this? I would’ve rather waited and heard it all from Dugald himself.”

Accalon’s grin returned, “No. I also wanted to tell you that he’s done you another favor. Now that you aren’t a virgin, there’s no way for him to know if you’ve been with another man. He’s basically given you a new way to express yourself.”

I said, “I don’t follow.”

Accalon said, “You can express your womanhood now, with any man you want.”

I said, “Show me another man, and maybe I will.”

Accalon said, “I think you know where I’m going with this. I’m not too old for you, I’m very attractive, and I have the blood of Satyr in my veins. I could teach you things you’ve never even dreamed of, and Dugald will never know.”

I said, “You have to be joking. You know as well as I do that Dugald doesn’t like it when other people touch his things. He would castrate you.”

Accalon said, “Well, while I don’t like your personality, from what I saw tonight, your physical body might be worth the risk.”

I muttered, “You just want me because my eyes probably looked dead at that moment. After all, that is what you prefer isn’t it?”

Accalon said, “No. That’s the only choice I had while I was here before. I couldn’t spoil the sacrifices. But yes, I liked that dead look in your eyes…”

I said, “No. I don’t care if you are the only choice I’ve got. I’d rather have Dugald rape me again than willingly give myself over to a goat like you.”

I tried to slam the door in his face, but Accalon put his boot in the door.

He snarled, “What did you call me? I think you need to learn some manners. I’m going to teach you your place. You might be a full apprentice, but you aren’t a full member of the cult yet, and if I have anything to say about it, an ungrateful bitch like you never will be.”

He reached out for the strap holding my robe.

I screamed in desperation, “MASTER!”

I’ve never been so glad to see him. I think if I had just screamed without calling for him, he would’ve let it happen, but that night I knew my only chance was Dugald. One minute he wasn’t there, and the very instant I called for him, he was leaning casually against the doorframe. He was also in a silken sleeping robe. He had a slightly surprised expression on his face, dwarfed by the shocked expression on Accalon’s. Accalon was still holding the strap of my robe, staring stupidly at Dugald, like a pig about to be slaughtered that doesn’t quite understand the danger it’s in, even when the butcher is walking towards it.

Dugald asked in a calm voice, “Accalon, what are you doing?”

Accalon stammered, “Master, I just came here to explain the ceremony to your apprentice. I noticed that she didn’t seem grateful for the sacrifices that you made for her, so I was trying to make sure that she was grateful.”

Dugald turned to me and asked, “Is that true, Aisling?”

I said, “At first it was true. He told me that you were doing me a favor. He also said that you had something special in store for me and tried to explain your motives behind everything you’ve done. Then, he told me that you ravaged me so that I could give my body to whomever I want now, and that I should give my body to him. When I refused, he forced his way into my room, and I think you can tell what he was going to do…”

Dugald was silent, but as I explained the details, his curious expression gradually became a scowl. He turned his attention immediately to Accalon.

Accalon stammered, “It’s a lie. I would never, ever disrespect you like…”

Dugald snapped, “Accalon, do you think I’m fool?”

Accalon said, “No, Master.”

Dugald asked, “And how dare you presume to know my mind?”

Accalon said, “Sir, please, I really didn’t mean any disrespect to you. It’s that ungrateful bitch’s fault. She doesn’t appreciate you the way I do.”

Dugald said, “Don’t use such harsh words about my new apprentice. She’s far more talented than you ever were, and I don’t care if she appreciates me or not. You, however, should know better than to even hint about the secrets you know to someone not fully inducted into the Order. You also should know better than to think you can lay your hands on anything that belongs to me.”

Accalon stammered, “Master, please, don’t castrate me.”

Dugald chuckled, “Castration is the least of your worries now, Boy. I’ll decide how to deal with you later. While you’re spending some time in the dungeons, pray that I remain in a good mood when I return to you.”

Accalon was making terrible whimpering sounds. Dugald turned and kicked him hard in the stomach. He curled up into a fetal position on the ground, but Dugald clearly wasn’t finished with him. He kicked him in the stomach again and then grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and started dragging him in the direction of the dungeon.

I said, “Thank you, Master.”

I had never meant my thanks more than at that moment. My words seemed to give Dugald pause. He stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned towards me.

Dugald said, “You’re welcome, Aisling. Still, you need to know that now that you’re a full apprentice, it means that I’ll expect more from you. The hours you work will be longer, your punishments harsher, and your attitude will be unquestionably loyal. And, you will have more ceremonial duties. Do you understand?”

I balled my hands into fists and muttered, “Yes, Master.”

Dugald said, “Good. Get some rest, Little Kit.”

Chapter 15

My initiation changed everything. It hurt me to realize that I couldn’t go back to those two years before the initiation, where I was free to research as I wanted, and I only had to attend two of the ceremonies. Still, what hurt most of all, was that after I was finally becoming close to Dugald, he had ruined our relationship and there was no way to go back to the way things were. Even though we still occasionally drank and danced, I never felt the way I used to feel. I rarely laughed and I rarely talked openly with him. He seemed to notice it too, and I think it mostly made him angry.

At times, we would be dancing, and he would push me away and tell me to go to my room for no apparent reason. Other times, we would be in the middle of a drinking song and Dugald would become very quiet. He would have a far off expression on his face and a sad look in his eyes, as he had when I wouldn’t return his kiss, and then he would excuse himself and go to his room for the rest of the evening. For once, I don’t think he blamed me for the chasm between us, though it clearly upset him. I think he knew it was his own fault, but he never admitted it. And, once again, I became lonely and continued my research on how to create a familiar in my spare time.

Dugald wasn’t joking about my duties changing either. Still, at least I didn’t have to do anymore chores. If there was a sacrifice, I was no longer the one cleaning up the bodies. However, I was required to attend every sacrifice, and we had one every season. I was also no longer allowed to observe in the corner, but I had to stand by the altar holding the chalice of blood, and say at the right time in the ritual, “May our sacrifice be acceptable.”

I began to somehow tune out the screams of the victims. I think it was because I was allowed to keep my eyes closed so I didn’t have to see their faces. Just being that close to the power was maddening. With every new sacrifice, it became harder to resist that terrible magic and the seductive voice in my mind telling me to use it. I knew that if I used the ceremonial dagger and actually preformed a sacrifice, I wouldn’t be able to resist any longer.

I was surprised that Dugald didn’t make me the executioner at my first ceremony as his apprentice. Still, he told me it was because he wanted me to slowly adjust to my new duties and he didn’t want to rush me into something I wasn’t ready for, like he did before. Now that I was a full apprentice, another incident like the one where I threw the chalice would make him look weak, and he would “be expected to do something about it,” which probably meant he would be expected to kill me. At least, if it ever came down to it, I knew that would be a good way to commit suicide…

Throughout the year, I studied a great deal of magic, and it was also when I first learned a little bit more about the entities we were “worshipping.” It was a very basic book on infernal lore, a primer written by Dugald himself. It mostly focused on making pacts and deals and “trading for power.” It seemed that the ceremony we usually did was one meant to use the power of the life force of the victim and the pain created by the victim to trade for the power of a demon. The book didn’t say the true name of the demon, but from reading it, I realized that Dugald must’ve known its true name for it to be granting its power the way that it did. He said there three ways to contact infernal creatures; to open one’s mind to a presence, to know a true name or an incantation, or to utter a simple prayer with a sacrifice. The thought of opening my mind made me remember the voice, and the thought sent shivers up my spine. Could I have opened my mind just by attending the rituals, or just by acknowledging the voice at all?

That thought disturbed me for a very long time. Still, I didn’t think that was where the voice in my mind was coming from. From what I gathered, most demons wouldn’t manifest in that way. It would probably be an outward voice instead of one inside of my own mind. Since I also never opened myself up by telling the voice my name, and it never asked me, it didn’t have the kind of mental link with me to speak as a voice within my own mind. I never invited it within me, either.

It made me wonder then, who was telling me to use the power? My first suspect would’ve been Dugald, expect for the fact the voice told me I should try using the power against him. The only other person I suspected was Accalon, but Accalon surely wouldn’t be encouraging that, unless he thought that Dugald would kill me in the fight, or unless he planned to subdue me to redeem himself in Dugald’s eyes. It could be my Father, but, unless he was part of Dugald’s cult, I doubted that he would want me to use that kind of power. For the time being, I decided to ignore the voice and continue to meditate until the power oozed away from my body, back to wherever it came from.

Even though the infernal book wasn’t very useful in regard to the problems I was having, it did teach me to be cautious. Just from basic knowledge of Dugald’s craft, I knew that I wanted nothing to do with it. I finished the primer and didn’t open it back up again, since Dugald told me to read it instead of telling me to study it. The disturbing illustrations and instructions in it made me feel that just by touching it my soul was corrupted just a little bit more.

Early on, I also found a certain “weak spot” that Dugald had for me. He liked to see me lose control and give myself over to hatred or anger, even if it meant accidentally killing a potential sacrifice. So, I had finally found a way to spare some of our victims from having their souls destroyed. I would pretend to go into a fitful rage and would kill them “by accident.” Dugald would punish me, but I was starting to build up a certain tolerance for pain. Faking rage was a card I couldn’t play very often, but one that was very useful to play, particularly if there was a child or a member of the clergy involved.

Somehow, I think the people I killed knew that their fate was better that way. One of them was a priest that Dugald tortured so badly that his face was barely discernable. He had welts covering his body, and his body was so swollen some of the buttons of his shirt were beginning to pop. Dugald found out that the old man had a violent reaction to bee stings, and brought a bee hive into the cell and agitated them. And, just when the old man began to rasp for breath, Dugald blew the bees away with an air spell and healed the old man just enough so that he would suffocate. The priest was begging for death, and that evening, I gave it to him.

I whispered in his ear, “Don’t worry, Father. I won’t let him hurt you anymore. But, it means you have to die. Are you ready?”

He nodded and smiled at me; though I know just that small amount of effort must’ve pained him greatly.

Then I “flew into a rage.” I started calling him all manner of terrible names. I asked him if he thought he was better than me and my Master because he was a member of the clergy. I didn’t give him a chance to answer any of my questions, striking him in the head to knock him unconscious and then, while he was unconscious, I strangled him with his own chain. It was a far more merciful death than what Dugald had in store for him, but I made it seem as though it was a simple accident caused by giving myself over to my baser nature. I got a terrible whipping for it that night, but the look on the old man’s face when he realized he would be given a merciful death was worth it.

Yes, after I became an apprentice, I also got whippings as punishment. Dugald’s lash was a multiple ended, horrible thing covered with teeth of an animal I couldn’t identify. The worst part wasn’t the actual strike against my back, but the way the teeth would pry bits of my skin off with them. Still, Dugald was very precise and made sure that if it left a scar it was more like a tiger stripe than an unsymmetrical tangle of cuts and scrapes. Still, that didn’t help me deal with the pain. He often used that strange ointment that reduced the appearance of my scars, and he also knew healing magic. I didn’t bother asking him why he made all of my scars into precision cuts like those of tattoos, or why he didn’t want me to scar. At the time, I thought it was because he liked my body. After my “initiation,” I figured that was the most likely explanation, but I found out later it was more than that, something more sinister, but thankfully something he decided not to go through with…

Things went that way for the first two seasons of my second year as “an apprentice,” as well. Still, Dugald became more and more distant with each passing day. He didn’t work with me as often, and he no longer wanted to dance with me or drink with me, so I very rarely saw him. I thought that Dugald staying away from me would be a relief, but it wasn’t a relief at all. My loneliness made me feel as though I was going mad, and I wanted company, even if it was the company of a man that hurt and took advantage of me. I decided if he showed me no attention on the day of my birthday, then I would go to his room and confront him.

Even though he had done some horrible things to me on my birthday, he always celebrated it in one way or another. He always gave me some sort of gift or tried to teach me some sort of lesson. Still, the day was waning fast and I hadn’t seen or heard from him. I knew deep down he wasn’t going to acknowledge it, and I decided it was time for me to confront him.

My courage ebbs and flows with the seasons. I think it has something to do with my Father. During the Spring and Summer I feel overly cautious, but for some reason, I’ve always felt that my magic is stronger in the Fall and Winter, and that tends to make me feel brave, or at least braver. That day, when I gathered my courage and went straight to Dugald’s door, I’m still not entirely sure how or why I did it. I was lonely, but what I did was like strutting into the lair of a territorial beast and demanding to know why it didn’t notice me. Maybe I felt suicidal, that if I had to spend another day with nothing but my own thoughts to keep me company, he might as well kill me. Or, maybe it was because I suspected Dugald was distancing himself from me to make things easier when he killed me, after all, Accalon had hinted as much, and I wasn’t going to let him do it without talking to me one last time. Whatever the motivation, it was foolish in every way, and I think that’s why it took Dugald totally by surprise.

I didn’t expect the door to be unlocked, so when I tested the handle and threw my shoulder into it, the door flung open in a very unexpected and loud way. I guess Dugald assumed no one would be idiotic enough to just barge into his room, but there’s always a first time for everything. He’s also was right about one thing, emotions tend to cloud my better judgment.

It was the first time I had ever seen Dugald’s room. It wasn’t what I pictured at all. Though it was much larger than my room, the furnishings were only modestly better. He had a double bed covered with fur blankets, a large ornate wardrobe, a thick oriental rug covering the floor, a small wine rack and liquor cabinet, and a wash room attached to the back with a wash tub with feet. Still, the most prominent features of his room were a large easel in the corner, the paintings covering the walls, and the writing desk, where Dugald was staring at me, thunderstruck.

In that one moment of stunned silence, I took in everything about the room. Oh, those paintings--they were amazing. There was one above Dugald’s bed that was a portrait of him, but he looked about my age. It was the one painting that clearly wasn’t painted by him, but for him. He had a much kinder face, and his face somehow seemed different, as though it was a different face altogether, but his eyes were the same. Still, instead of the usual hint of madness that I saw within his eyes now, they were sad and haunted. I didn’t need to see the signature on the bottom to know it was painted by Cassidy.

Around the rest of the room the paintings were clearly created by Dugald. The brush strokes were similar to the ones in my painting in my room, and they were clearly magical as well. There was a series of portraits hung in a cluster on one wall of the many members of the cult, members that I had seen before, all of the same age that they were currently. I think the faces within the paintings aged along with the people outside of them. I suspect this because I know for a fact Accalon came to him much younger, but the picture of Accalon featured him as he was currently, even showing the scars on his face from when Dugald attacked him. Also, there were paintings of skulls and mostly decayed faces hung among the group. My guess is that those were the apprentices that didn’t make it.

It’s possible that Dugald could be changing the paintings as people aged, but that one in my room suggested it was a strange sort of magic created by him alone. I wish I had asked him how he did it. I think it’s a magic similar to fairy glamour, but I don’t know. I know that Dugald has fey blood within him, but I don’t know exactly what kind, or enough about the magic of the fey to know if a magic like that is something within their power. Still, my observations were cut short as I saw, propped up on the easel, an unfinished painting of me.

It was a very beautiful painting. I looked as good as I did the night of the initiation, but I was in my apprentice robe. My eyes were glistening as though I was about to cry. They were sad, lonely eyes. From looking at that portrait, I could tell that Dugald knew me better than I thought. That also increased my anger with him exponentially. He knew how lonely he was making me, and yet he neglected me now. He stole me from my Mother, stole my body, and my freedom, and now he was casting me aside like a childhood toy. I would have my say, and I silently promised myself I wouldn’t be afraid of him today.

When I looked at Dugald, I actually found myself disappointed. I expected my courage and resolve to dry up at the mere sight of him, but they didn’t. It was because I saw a side of him that I never did. He looked like a normal man. Not just a normal man, but a man surprised into silence by something as simple as someone walking in on him. Whenever I saw him in my studies, even when we were dancing or singing together, he always seemed imposing. He was always wearing his formal robes, and he always had that look of confidence on his face and a somewhat insane twinkle in his eye. Even the night I saw him in a regular robe, he had that dangerous confidence wrapped around him like a cloak covering the fact he was vulnerable in what he was wearing. I always thought of him as a wolf, but he wasn’t a wolf. He was just a man, a powerful man, but a man all the same. He was wearing a set of dress pants, a button up shirt, and a vest, and he was writing in what looked like a diary. For a moment he even covered it with his arms, like a boy trying to hide his journal from his Mother.

I spoke first, “So, am I to assume that when you finish that painting, I’m going to die?”

He snapped, “What are you doing in here? I told you never to come in here!”

I acted as though I hadn’t heard him, “Answer my question, please.”

He scowled and said, “I don’t know. Are you going to make it a habit to break my rules without any remorse and then interrogate me? I’m the Master, you’re the slave.”

I said, “No, I’m your apprentice now, remember? You said that when I became an apprentice I would no longer be expendable. You said it like it was a promise, and yet, I heard something different from Accalon the night of my initiation. I didn’t want to press the issue at the time, but I’m ready to address it now.”

Dugald flinched, in a grimace of pain and guilt. I had caught him. He did intend to kill me. He closed the journal and began to pace.

He said, “Yes. I was going to go through with the ceremony. How did you know?”

I said, “It was pretty obvious. Even though nothing has been the same since you ra—since my initiation, you always visit me on my birthday. You distanced yourself so much from me that I never see you anymore.”

Dugald said, “It seems to me you’ve made it clear that you have no desire to see me.”

I said, “No, after what happened, I have no desire to touch you, but you’re the only person here to talk to. You’re very cruel, do you know that? So, you were just going to neglect me, and then one day just up and kill me?”

He said, “You’ve been researching familiars, you’ll have a friend soon. Besides, would it be better for me to act as though nothing was wrong and then kill you?”

I said, “I guess not, but why do you want to kill me at all? I thought I had finally pleased you, at least enough to be your apprentice. You even saw to it that I wouldn’t be suitable as a virgin sacrifice anyway, so what could you gain from killing me now?”

Dugald said, “I can’t tell you. It’s one of my most well guarded secrets, but I would gain a great deal.”

I said, “I see. So I get to die for reasons that I won’t even have the privilege of knowing. If you’re going to do it, you might as well do it today then, but I’m not going to let you neglect me anymore. You need to see my face before I die.”

Dugald snapped, “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you?”

I said, “No. But, I see no reason to make it easy on you either.”

Dugald sighed miserably and said, “That’s fair. I don’t want to do it, Aisling.”

I said, “Then don’t. Is someone making you?”

Dugald said, “It was the reason I first brought you here. I didn’t think I would get attached to you…”

I finished the sentence for him, “But, you did.”

He nodded.

I said, “Then, can I also assume that initiation wasn’t just to make me unsuitable as a virgin sacrifice?”

For once, I saw a truly ashamed look on Dugald’s face.

He muttered, “Yes.”

I said, “I want to get this out of the way. We need to talk about this, if I’m going to spend even another night here alive with you. You misread my meaning when I told you that I wanted a companion. You thought I wanted you to teach me, didn’t you?”

He said, “You told me while we were slow dancing one night, and you put your head against my chest and sighed, what was I supposed to think?”

I said, “I know, I sent the wrong signal. I’m sorry, for that, but how could you think I would be okay with how things happened?”

He said, “I didn’t think you would be okay with it, but I thought you would forgive me when you realized why.”

I asked, “So you sent Accalon to tell me?”

Dugald said, “No. I knew better than that. I was going to wait until the next morning, to sort of let you sleep on things.”

I said, “I see.”

Dugald said, “So, you didn’t have any feelings at all for me?”

I said, “I did, at the time. I was starting to like you, but I can’t forgive you for what you did.”

Dugald snapped, “As with everything I’ve done for you, it was for your own good.”

I said, “I know, but any feelings that I had for you of that nature died that night.”

Dugald muttered, “I noticed. I’m not totally oblivious, you know.”

I asked, “So is that why you’re killing me, because I’m not reciprocating your feelings anymore? Or maybe it’s something even more pathetic than that, maybe it’s because I’m not meeting all of your needs?”

Dugald snapped, “Of course not.”

Though he denied it, his expression looked a bit too guilty for me not to have struck a nerve.

I said, “It’s sad that I had to be the bigger person to come and confront you about this. You know, you could rape me again. You’re stronger than I am in every way, but you can’t force me to enjoy it. So, you need to deal with the fact that you can have my body without my mind, or my mind without my body. So, which is it?”

Dugald laughed bitterly and said, “If only you knew the irony of your words right now…”

I snapped, “Which is it?”

Dugald rolled his eyes and said, “I think you can assume, since I haven’t ravaged you again, it’s your mind.”

I said, “Then you have no reason to continue avoiding me. I believe you were the one who said all we have is each other.”

Dugald said, “Now, it’s my turn to be the ‘bigger person,’ and confront you about something that you’re not telling me.”

I tried to pretend not to know what he was talking about, but inside I knew entirely. He was referring to the prisoners I killed.

I said, calmly, “No, I’ve told you everything I came here to say.”

Dugald said, “There’s another reason that I’ve been avoiding you. I’m very angry with you, and yet, I feel I shouldn’t punish you because you’ve made progress. I know your dirty little secret.”

I asked, “What are you talking about?”

Dugald said, “When you first killed one of the prisoners, I thought you really did fly into a rage. That’s why I didn’t whip you very badly, but when it happened again, I noticed the way your anger never touched your eyes. It was a mercy killing; all of them were mercy killings.”

I said, “So, you knew. I guess that’s why you decided to kill me.”

Dugald said, “No, it isn’t, but it did make me angry. Did you think I just wouldn’t notice or that I wouldn’t be able to tell that you were sparing the good people and the children?”

I said, “I knew you would figure it out eventually. Still, I was hoping to spare as many as I could in the meantime. Why didn’t you stop me?”

Dugald grinned and said, “Because whether you were being merciful or not, you were still murdering those people. You aren’t an angel of death, Aisling. You’re a person. Murder is murder, even if you had good reasons.”

I said, “I couldn’t sit back and watch their souls being devoured.”

Dugald said, “I know, but they didn’t know that was their fate. Some of them, like the children, looked at it as a betrayal. They thought of you as that nice wady that snuck them extra food and seemed to feel sorry for them, up until you stabbed them in the heart while they slept and the last thing they saw was you…”

I snapped, “SHUT UP!”

He said, “I know it hurts, but you need to hear this. I’m going to let you kill as many prisoners as you see fit, because one day it won’t hurt anymore. One day, you’ll be so acclimated to doing it for your just cause, that murder will be second nature to you. Once that happens, it’ll be easy to rationalize killing for other reasons.”

I said, “No, that will never happen to me.”

Dugald said, “I said the same thing when I started doing it, but one day it’ll happen. It might be a sudden realization, or it might just sneak up on you, but you’ll be used to murder, and you’ll even start to enjoy it.”

I said, “I don’t see the point of this discussion, since I won’t live long enough to get acclimated to anything.”

Dugald asked, “What makes you think so?”

I said, “You’re going to kill me. You’re going to go through with whatever ceremony you intended.”

Dugald said, “I haven’t made the decision final yet, otherwise you would’ve had a very nasty birthday surprise earlier today. The ceremony would’ve been more powerful on your birthday.”

I could feel my face becoming pale, “You were going to murder me on my birthday, today?”

Dugald said, “You yourself said I delight in irony. While it would be ironic and cruel, that’s not why I was going to do it. The magic would literally be more powerful on your birthday. But, as you saw, I didn’t. The truth is, I couldn’t.”

I asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm, “Because you care so much about me?”

Dugald shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I just couldn’t.”

I asked, “So where does that leave us?”

Dugald said, “I’m going to give you your wish. I’ll start talking to you again. You’ve learned enough about dancing that we don’t need to do that anymore, but I wouldn’t mind drinking with you again. After this conversation, I’d say I need it.”

I asked, “And the ceremony?”

Dugald frowned and said, “I don’t know. I still haven’t decided about that. I think I’ll leave that up to you.”

I asked, “Up to me?”

He said, “You don’t want to become like me. I know that. Still, if you stay here long enough, you will. As I told you, those mercy killings of yours will become easier…”

I began to protest, but he held up his hand and continued, “You’ll also become more addicted to the power you feel during the ceremonies, and you’ll even start to harness it in spite of yourself.”

I muttered, “I harnessed it by accident when I ran away from you that day.”

Dugald said, “I suspected as much when I caught up to you. I’ve also caught you meditating and talking to yourself after the ceremonies. I must say, I’m impressed that you used meditation to bleed off the power. You learned that from one of my books, didn’t you?”

I nodded and found myself blurting out, “There’s a voice in my mind, after the ceremonies. What is it?”

Dugald had a thoughtful look on his face and said, “The power sometimes manifests itself differently to individual people. It could be a sort of afterimage of the entity we get it from trying to offer you its power. What does it tell you to do?”

I quickly stammered, “It wants me to use or store the power. Not to bleed it off.”

Dugald shrugged, “If I were in your position, I would do what it said. It’s becoming harder to resist, isn’t it.”

I smiled at the irony and said, “You have no idea.”

Dugald said, “Well, that’s why I’m going to leave the decision up to you. The ceremony I had in mind for you wouldn’t destroy your soul, but I would be forced to kill you afterwards. I’m going to give you another year to think things over. Do you want to be one of us, or would you rather be dead? A wolf or a lamb…”

I said, “It would be an easier decision if I thought I could atone for what I’ve done.”

Dugald shrugged, “Well, you don’t seem faithful enough to be destined for heaven, mercy killer or not. Still, I can bind your soul here, if it would make the decision easier.”

I said bitterly, “So then I could work for you dead instead of alive. I hadn’t even thought that maybe if I had died while trying to escape from you could’ve enslaved my soul…”

Dugald said, “Being bound here in death would be better than going to where our Masters lie. Since you’re part of this little group, that’s probably where you would be headed.”

I felt as though I was going to throw up.

Dugald put a comforting hand on my shoulder and said, “But if you decide that you would rather die, I’ll make sure to bind you here. I won’t make you work. You can just sit in the library reading books for your afterlife if you desire. You’re work will be done.”

I said, “But I won’t ever be able to leave here, see the sun again, or use my magic.”

He said, “And yet, if you became a full member of the Order, you could. Think long and hard about this, Little Kit. When you become a full member, you aren’t bound to this cavern anymore. Granted, you’ll go where you’re needed and if you go rogue we’ll hunt you down, but it beats a greenhouse and a just little free time. You’d have entire seasons to pursue your own projects.”

I muttered, “And I’ll bet you’re going to tell me it would only be a few more years.”

Dugald said, “I know it sounds too good to be true, but it is. You only need to make it here for about three more years and by then I’m pretty sure you’ll be ready.”

I said, bitterly, “I’ll be used to killing, will have succumbed to the power, and probably even forgiven you, and we’ll live happily for the rest of our days.”

Dugald said, “I think that you’ve already forgiven me, whether you admit it or not. Otherwise, I don’t think you’d have come here to have this conversation. Still, meditate on that on your own. I don’t feel like arguing with you.”

He walked over to his wine rack and pulled out a bottle dusted with cobwebs and then pulled two wine glasses from his liquor cabinet.

I asked, “Does this mean you’re not going to punish me for entering your room?”

Dugald shrugged, “I would appreciate it if you would knock next time, but no. I’m not going to punish you. I did the same thing to you for most of your young life, so I can forgive you this once. So, what do you think of my room?”

I said, “I guess I didn’t expect it to be so functional.”

Dugald laughed and said, “I’ll bet you expected torture devices and statues of me, didn’t you? Or, maybe statues to the things we worship and fountains of blood…”

I said, “Yes. That last one is closer to what I suspected.”

Dugald asked as he poured the wine, “Did you think I wore my ceremonial robe all the time? I have to take it off at least to wash it, you know.”

I chuckled and said, “I’m still not convinced that your wardrobe isn’t full of extras.”

He said, “I do have one extra, but no. See for yourself.”

He opened his wardrobe and I saw a large assortment of clothes. There was another robe, but there were also some casual clothes, peasant clothes, his black travelling cloak, a very nice set of noble clothes, and even a suit of black leather armor.

He said, “I like to have something to wear for every occasion. Sometimes I need to blend in with the peasantry, and other times I need to fit in with the nobility.”

I said, “I guess I can understand that.”

Dugald said, “Let me put it this way, if those Hermetic fools ever ‘wizard march’ me, I’m not going to make it easy for them.”

I asked, “Wizard march?”

Dugald said, “It’s when they come for people like you and me. With the sort of evidence that they have against us, more than likely we’d be killed on sight.”

I frowned. I knew that what we were doing was against the rules for the Hermetic Magi, but I didn’t realize they would actively be pursuing us either. I was hoping against hope that if I did somehow manage to escape from Dugald, that maybe the Magi would take me in and allow me to apprentice under them until I could join their Order instead. From what I knew from Banan and Dugald, if the Order of Hermetic Magi ever found a Magus that didn’t belong to the Order, that Magus only had two choices; join the Order, or die. Still, I didn’t realize they would hunt those that didn’t belong to the Order for disobeying a rule that at the time they didn’t even know to follow. The thought sent shivers down my spine. It seemed my choices really were to join Dugald or die. Those two choices didn’t seem much different than what the Order would offer me.

Dugald saw my concerned expression and said, “Don’t worry. I’ve led the fools on a merry chase for a very long time. They won’t catch us. On a lighter note, have I taught you the rhyming song? Every round you drink, you make up a new verse that rhymes the last one not to be able to make up a rhyme loses.”

He began to sing, and despite everything, I began to sing with him. It was a fun game, one I made sure to remember. And, that evening, I felt like I did before my initiation. I wasn’t lonely and I wasn’t uncomfortable or bitter towards Dugald. And, for once, I wasn’t the only one tipsy off of the wine. Before he sent me to my room, he began rummaging through his closet.

He said, “I can’t send you away without a birthday present…”

I said, “Dugald, I think the fact you didn’t do your ceremony is my present.”

Dugald said, “No, it wouldn’t be proper…aha.”

He came out holding a beautiful ring. It was made of silver and gold with some sort of amber stones that matched the color of my eyes. When he handed it to me, I got a closer inspection of the intricate carving on the ring. It was the carving of a dragon, made of silver, and a griffon, made of gold, fighting. The stones were their eyes. They seemed to be biting at one another’s heels.

Dugald said, “I meant to give this to you. I know it’s just a trinket, but it reminds me of you and me.”

I asked, “How so?”

He said, “I would be the dragon, you would be the griffon. The griffon stands for justice, you know. You’re like that girl, you keep me in line.”

I said, “Dugald, I’ve never kept you in line.”

He said, “You do more than you know. You and I are two sides of the same coin, Master, apprentice, man, woman, dragon, griffon, and yet we’re bound together by this place.”

I looked at the ring for a long time and said, “I can’t accept this.”

Dugald said, “I’ll be offended if you don’t. It’s not even magical. It’s just a trinket.”

I shook my head and said, “I think you know why. That symbol, I can’t nip at your heels forever.”

Dugald said, “But it’s a good symbol of our relationship right now. Either one day you’ll be my equal, or you’ll be a ghost, but either way, we’re bound together.”

I slowly put the ring on but didn’t say another word. I didn’t know what else to do.

Dugald said, “Happy Birthday. You should get some sleep now, and so should I.”

I nodded and said, “Thank you for the conversation, for the drinking, and the ring. I feel better now, and if it’s not too bold to say so, I think you do as well.”

Dugald said, “I do. What a strange pair we are…”

Chapter 16

When I got back to my room, I stared at the painting for a very long time. I knew that I could never go back, but it was nice remembering a time before Dugald, a time before I took the lives of other people. My very early childhood was such a simpler time. Even though I always wanted to know my Father, my Mother was always trying to be everything I needed. She played with me, hugged me, kissed me, and acted proud of me, even when she sometimes resented me for looking and being like my Father. I could understand her sacrifice now, and it made me miss her even more.

Acceptance wasn’t what I expected of Dugald. He had known that I was lying to him the entire time. Just like he knew about Accalon’s “vices,” he knew that my heart was still soft and all of the deaths were mercy killings. And yet, he still thought I was making progress. Why did he still care about me? I looked down at the ring on my finger. Apparently, he found my soul to be intriguing. He also seemed to like the fact that I was a sort of conscience to him. So, why couldn’t I just feel the same way about him?

I hated it when Dugald was right. As I sat there, looking at that painting and thinking about our conversation, I realized that I had forgiven him. Not only had I forgiven him, but I found that I had been lying to myself all along in believing I no longer cared about him. I still cared about him very much. So, even if I continued to dislike what he was and like the person that he hid deep inside, then why couldn’t I just live to foil him, stopping him whenever he went a step too far?

I muttered in response to my own question, “Because a step too far for Dugald is a flying leap too far for anyone else...”

If I stayed with Dugald, I knew I might as well just let him corrupt my soul. He was right, my mercy killings would become commonplace and eventually, even sacrificial killing would become commonplace. Then, he would take it one step too far and teach me the real purpose of the sacrifices, and the real plans that he had hidden so well from me in the past, and then I could never go back. I could never atone for that forbidden knowledge.

I thought about the Magi again. Despite what Dugald told me, I had to hope that they might allow me to live if I vowed never to practice any of the little bit of knowledge I gained and allowed them to watch over me. However, if Dugald told me everything he knew, I would be as guilty as he was in their eyes. And, as far as I was concerned, they might be right to fear me then. That kind of knowledge was dangerous, and that kind of power was so tempting that I knew if I continued to practice it, one day I would submit to it and then I would be just as bad as Dugald. On that day, they could kill me, and I might even thank them for it.

The euphoric feelings during the ceremonies were addictive. During the first one, it disgusted me, but now I found myself actually looking forward to feeling that power coursing through me. Even though I didn’t know how to wield it, it made me tingle with excitement just thinking of the sensation of it. Even though I had been working to silence that voice in my head, there was no telling when it would come back to haunt me, especially once I learned more. It was time to face the truth. If I didn’t get away from Dugald now, I would never get away. I only had one more year to live, one way or another. According to Dugald, I only had two options, to die in the ceremony or live as a member of the Order. Still, in my mind I still had a third option. I could try to escape and join the Hermetic Order instead.

I turned my attention back to the painting. Today the painting was another winter scene. The forest wasn’t like a nightmare this time, but like a wonderland of ice and snow. I saw one of the fey hidden within the trees. He looked like a depiction of Jack Frost, with icy blue, beautiful eyes and skin as white as a snowflake. His hair was black, and yet reflected in that light it looked blue, almost the coloration of a Raven’s feathers, and he wore it a little above his shoulders. He was wearing dress clothes that looked as though they were spun from silver, a long blue wool coat, and a scarf that stretched almost a full body length behind him. I ran my hand along his form, wistfully. Somewhere, outside of my home, there was a fey boy that looked about my age, someone I wished I could talk to. I found myself thinking about the romance book and sighed.

I muttered, “Well, Fey Boy, what should I do? Should I live as a monster, die as one, or die trying to atone? Can I ever atone? Not to say, you’d understand the purpose of that.”

To my surprise, the boy in the picture shrugged and said, “I understand more than you think.”

I stumbled backwards and tripped over my feet, falling down, my mouth hanging open stupidly in a silent scream. I looked around the room, afraid that maybe it was Dugald talking to me and that he would appear any second. Still, when I looked back up at the painting, the fey in the picture was gone, and I heard a slight scratching sound at my door.

I thought, “I’m losing my mind. It seems the pressure of making this decision has finally tipped me over the edge…”

When I opened the door, at first I didn’t see anyone, but then a slight movement caught my eye. A large crow came bouncing inside and fluttered onto my bed. It cocked its head at me, and its beak was partially open as though it somehow had a grin on its face. I looked around, once again wondering if it was Dugald, but then the crow began to change before my eyes. The beak shifted inward and then the bird started growing and stretching into odd shapes. The feathers also seemed to be getting smaller, and I could see white flesh beneath them. Still, it all happened so quickly I could barely take it all in. Where there was once a crow, there was the fey from the picture sitting on the edge of my bed.

He was staring at me, looking me up and down, and a satisfied smile spread across his face. I felt myself blushing at the attention, but also at his appearance. I had seen fey before, mostly the members of the cult, but something about him was different, special. It might’ve been glamour, but I found myself wanting to touch his black hair and to see what was under that elaborate clothing…

He cleared his throat and said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you earlier. That was just a bit of glamour. My name is Maverick. I take it you’re Aisling?”

I said, “Yes. How on earth did you get in here without Dugald noticing you?”

Maverick said, “It wasn’t easy, but I have my ways. Besides, he seems a little distracted this evening.”

I asked, “Why are you here?”

Maverick said, “I’ve been sent by my Lord and Master to spy on Dugald. The people of my Lordship’s Court are quite interested in the work he does here. They’re afraid of him, you see.”

I thought about all of the corrupt fey working with Dugald and muttered, “Rightfully so.”

Maverick nodded and continued, “They tell me that he steals the bodies of those with our blood, so they want to know ways in which to recognize him in any of his forms.”

I didn’t understand what he was talking about. I had never seen a fey body even in all of the bodies I dissected. Nor did I understand what he meant by recognizing Dugald in “any of his forms.” I knew from earlier that he was a master of disguise, but clearly there was more to it than simply that. I decided to play along. Perhaps Maverick would slip up and tell me the secret that Dugald was hiding, and maybe I could even use the information escape.

I said, “I see. And you thought I could help you.”

Maverick said, “You’re his apprentice, are you not? Surely, you would know more about him than anyone.”

I muttered, “That’s certainly is true, but I don’t know if I want to help you.”

Maverick said, “When I came to meet you, you were trying to make a decision regarding that, I believe. Something about living as a monster or atoning…”

I said, “Yes. I have to make the decision soon. You see, I don’t want to be his apprentice, but I can’t escape on my own. Every time I attempt to escape from him it ends in disaster. Next time, it’ll end with me blinded in his dungeon.”

Maverick said, “Maybe I can help. If you can tell me any information to take back with me, I can help you escape.”

I said, “If only it was that easy. I’ve got nowhere to escape to even if you help me.”

Maverick said, “You could escape to Arcadia.”

I snapped, “Never.”

Maverick asked, “Why not?”

I said, “My Father is there. I hate my Father. He abandoned me and my Mother. If it wasn’t for him leaving us, I wouldn’t be here working for Dugald in the first place and Mother would still be alive.”

Maverick frowned and looked at the floor, “I see. Then, it seems we have something else in common. I hate him too.”

I asked, “You know him?”

Maverick laughed bitterly, “You could say that. He’s the one who sent me here.”

I said, “I see, so let me guess, he wanted you to seek me out.”

Maverick nodded and said, “You really weren’t what I expected. From the way your Father acts, I expected you to be an arrogant bitch, or at least to be corrupt. From the looks of things, you aren’t either.”

I muttered, “I’m trying my damnedest not to be, no thanks to him.”

Maverick said, “Despite what he did to you, he still has an interest in you. He told me to give you some sort of comfort because of the atrocities your Master has put you through.”

I said, “No offense, but I don’t need pity sex. I need to get out of here.”

Maverick said, “And, I need your help to get out of here alive as well…” He hesitated, then continued, “I’m not a full blooded fey. This is practically a suicide mission. Your Father doesn’t like me, so I think he intended for me to die here.”

I asked, “Why does he hate you so much.”

Maverick shrugged, “I don’t know.”

I could tell he was lying but he didn’t want to talk about it at the time. He was eyeing me suspiciously, probably because of my Father, wondering if he could trust me. It made me furious that my Father would send someone on a suicide mission to get information about Dugald. It also enraged me to know that he sent Maverick to comfort me sexually, with the intention that in the end Maverick would die. It sounded like something my cold hearted Father would do, and I decided then and there that I would save Maverick, no matter what the cost.

I said, “Don’t worry. I’ll help you. I have an idea.”

Maverick asked, “Are you sure you can?”

I grinned and said, “Oh yes. You need an alibi so that Dugald won’t suspect you, right? How long can you transform into a bird?”

Maverick shrugged, “As long as I want.”

I laughed and said, “It’s too wonderful. Dugald knows I’ve been thinking of summoning a familiar. I’ll go into the study, go through the motions, I just won’t put any energy into the spell. I’ll tell Dugald that I’ve chosen a crow as my familiar.”

Maverick beamed, “Only that familiar will be me.”

I said, “Exactly. I’ll release one of the crows in his stable and say I used one of them. He won’t be able to tell one bird from the next. He usually doesn’t even visit the stable himself.”

Maverick said, “You’re brilliant.”

I felt myself blushing, “No. We’ll decide if I’m brilliant or not if this works. Dugald is a lot more observant than I’ve given him credit for lately.”

Maverick said, “Either way, it’s a better chance than I’ve got on my own.”

I said, “Turn into a crow again and come on.”

Dugald didn’t notice when I snuck out of my room. I held Maverick under my coat, hoping that no servant invisible or not would see him. I walked as quietly as I could along the deserted halls all the way to the stable. I took one of Dugald’s birds, held it in front of me, and walked back to my greenhouse, letting it fly away though the hole in the roof. It was one less bird for Dugald to pluck to death for components. Watching it fly away was a freeing feeling for a moment. It made me think of the wings on my back and made me wish I could fly away with it. Maybe one day I’ll learn to turn into a cardinal, my favorite bird, if nothing more than to learn to fly.

As soon as the other bird was out of sight, Maverick hopped onto my shoulder.

I chuckled and whispered to Maverick, “You have your ways, huh? You came in through my greenhouse, didn’t you?”

Maverick said, “Yeah. I was lucky I didn’t run into anyone on the way to your door.”

I said, “And, you used my name to find me. You made a grand entrance though.”

The crow on my shoulder seemed to bow for a moment and said, “I try my best.”

I walked in silence the rest of the way into the study and drew up the ritualistic diagram in chalk exactly as I was shown in the book and then lit the marks to make it seem as though they burned away when infused with magic. That was yet another trademark of my spells. While working with Dugald, many times my ritualistic marks would burn away with a fire that smelled of brimstone and sulfur. Then, I calmly walked back to my room, sporting Maverick proudly on my shoulder. When we got back inside he hopped down and changed back into a humanoid form, and sat back down on the bed.

He said, “I can’t thank you enough for helping me. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you.”

There was mischief gleaming in his eyes. I caught the insinuation.

I said, “We’ll see. I don’t know you well enough for that yet. For now, I just want a friend, a companion to keep me company. That’s what I’ve always wanted.”

Maverick said, “If you help me survive this and get the information I need, I promise I’ll be your companion for as long as we both live, and longer.”

I said, “That sounds really good, but I doubt you can keep your promise. That would mean not working for my Father any longer since I have no intention of living in Arcadia.”

Maverick said in a solemn tone, “I live in Arcadia for now, and we fey take our promises seriously, and we’re bound to keep them. Not serving your Father or living there anymore would just be an added bonus.”

I chuckled, “I’ll bet. So, should we shake on this or something?”

Maverick said, “I’d rather seal it with a kiss.”

I found myself flinching. The only kisses I had experienced weren’t pleasurable. All of them were from Dugald, and they were all very one sided. Maverick seemed to read my mind from my expression.

He motioned with his head in the direction of Dugald’s room and asked, “What has he done to you?”

I sighed and said, “What hasn’t he?”

Maverick gently reached out and lifted my chin up towards his face, saying, “I promise, I won’t hurt you.”

He bent down and the moment his lips touched mine it was as though a current rushed through me. His lips were cool, even cold, but they melted against my mouth perfectly. He gasped silently and so did I. That kiss lasted a great deal longer than what was necessary for “sealing a contract.” I had never felt the way I did at that moment. Suddenly, I had hope for the future. I felt overwhelmed with passion, with the need to be touched. I pulled away first, surprised at the conflicting emotions caused by one simple kiss.

I stammered, “That’s a nice way to seal a contract.”

Maverick had a puzzled wistful expression on his face.

He said, “Something about that kiss was special. I feel somehow connected to you…”

I muttered, “Like it was perfect.”

Maverick asked, “Do you believe in true love?”

I chuckled and said, “Don’t spoil the moment with a pick up line.”

Maverick said, “I’m serious. I didn’t before, but I think do now. I’ve never had a kiss like that.”

I said, “Please, don’t talk like that. For all I know, Dugald might kill you tomorrow. I’ve always wanted to find true love. I think you’re just playing with my mind and teasing me, like all the other fey.”

Maverick said, “I’m not like other fey. Besides, how would I have known that was what you wanted? Your Father said you were looking for a companion, not true love.”

I said, “I’m sure my Father wouldn’t understand the concept.”

Maverick said, “You don’t have to believe me, but I think this is real. I think I was meant to find you, and I’ll prove it to you somehow.”

Maverick didn’t have to prove it. I felt a connection to him the moment that I met him. When I ran my hand along that picture of him, I could almost see us together. It was true love. There was never anything I was surer of in my life. I never believed in love at first sight. My time with Dugald had made me cynical, but my cynicism seemed to leak away from me at that moment like the evil power that would leave my body after the ceremonies.

I said, “I’ll never let Dugald kill you. No matter what happens, I’ll keep you safe.”

Maverick said, “I’ll try to keep you safe as well. Thank you. You’re risking a lot to help me.”

I said, “You’re risking a lot more than I am. I hope you can keep your promise. It’s nice talking to you.”

And it was. I don’t know why he was so easy to get along with, but I felt like I could tell him anything. He just affected me that way. He probably had that effect on most people. Maverick leaned back and looked at the ceiling. He didn’t need my permission to sleep in my bed. That was exactly what I wanted him to do. I leaned up against him and found myself burying my head into his hair next to his neck and breathing in his scent. He smelled like Wintersweet flowers. He was a perfect gentleman and didn’t make a move to touch me.

He said, “You don’t need to be nervous. I won’t touch you. If you want, I’ll even get up and sleep on your dresser as a crow.”

I said, “No. I like having you right here. Still, be sure to do that before morning comes. The servants come in and bring me breakfast early.”

Maverick said, “Don’t worry. I don’t sleep very long.”

I fell asleep cuddled up against him. When I awoke the next morning, I was hugging a pillow, and he was a crow, sitting and watching me on top of my dresser. If I hadn’t seen him there, I would’ve thought the entire thing was just a wonderful dream. Still, reality dawned on me at that moment. I had to present him as my familiar to Dugald, and after the events of the evening, I wasn’t sure how Dugald would receive him. Still, I arose, straightened out my apprentice robes, having forgotten to change that night, and ran a brush through my hair. I was hung-over, which meant Dugald probably would be as well—not a good sign. Still, I swallowed my fear back, plucked Maverick from the dresser, and walked out into the hall to face the day.

Chapter 17

I heard Dugald rummaging around in the study and approached with a falsely confident smile on my face. He was frowning and looking at the scorch marks on the ground. His attention to the marks would’ve made me worried, but again, I knew Dugald better than anyone. He wasn’t studying the marks because he suspected that they might not be valid. His expression was one of petty jealousy. He was probably wondering if I planned to tell him about my familiar. The timing couldn’t be better, but I could tell by that expression he wasn’t happy about my decision. I would have to try to play it off as though it wasn’t a big deal.

I stroked the feathers on Maverick’s chest and said, “Dugald, I thought you might want to see my new familiar.”

Dugald glanced up and when he glanced at Maverick, the raven’s feathers seemed to puff outwards in a visible shutter.

Dugald muttered, “So, your familiar is a carrion bird. That seems appropriate since you live off of scavenging from my work.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “A bit pissy today, are we?”

Duglad said, “Well, after all that sanctimonious bullshit last evening about you wanting to talk to me again, I kind of thought you wouldn’t need a familiar anymore.”

I said, “I do want to talk to you, but, I could also use an assistant to help me with my work. I didn’t think that you would have enough time to sit around and talk to me all day.”

Dugald’s expression became slightly lighter as he said, “True. I suppose you could use an assistant. He might not be large, but he could gather components. Still, ask permission next time before you take one of my animals.”

I said, “Yes, Master.”

Dugald said, “As you so eloquently said last night, I’m not your Master anymore. You’re my apprentice, remember? But, it’s nice that you’re still respectful.”

I said, “I can still call you that occasionally, since clearly you like to hear it.”

Dugald asked, “Does this familiar mean that you’ve thought anymore about my proposition?”

I pretended to be upset and said, “No, but I thought I would just take this year one day at a time and tell you at the end of it. You didn’t give me a deadline.”

Dugald said, “Well, just be thinking about it. Now that you have a familiar, you might not want to die. It will more than likely die with you, and even if it doesn’t, I’ll have to get rid of it if you choose death.”

I asked, “Why?”

Dugald said, “A familiar is only complete with its Master. It tends to turn feral, wild, and dangerous, when its master dies if the shock doesn’t kill it first. It’s just not worth the risk.”

I muttered, “I understand.”

Dugald said, “Good. Now, let’s get some work done. We need to prepare for the winter ritual, and I’m sure you have some research to do. I’ll see you at dinner time.”

As soon as we were sure that Dugald was gone, Maverick whispered, “That was a close one.”

I nodded, “I know. I thought for sure he was going to see through your disguise. I must’ve faked the ritual really well, that or your disguise is flawless.”

Maverick shrugged his wings as he said, “Even though I’m sure Dugald has studied fey magic from the involvement of fey in his cult, it probably wasn’t something he was looking for.”

I said, “Well, let’s not pray for more than one miracle. I’d better get to work. Just so he doesn’t suspect anything, I want you to assist me in my lab as a bird. Will you do that?”

Maverick said, “Of course. You took a great risk for me. The least I can do is to assist you.”

I said, “Well, you’re supposed to be my companion for as long as I live and longer for that. Helping is one of those things that friends do for each other.”

Maverick said, “Heh, I never thought of it that way. I guess I’ve never really had a real friend before. It’ll take some time to start thinking that way, but I’ll try.”

I said, “Why don’t you have any friends? You seem nice enough.”

Maverick said, “I’m not like the other fey. They don’t understand me. I don’t ‘act’ like they do. I have real emotions and real thoughts and I can think of myself as an entity. I guess you could say that I have an inner voice and I choose to do what I wish to do. It’s hard to explain…”

I said, “You have a soul.”

Maverick said, “Well, it isn’t as though the others don’t have souls. They’re like immortal beings of energy in their true forms anyway, but they don’t have a sense of self. They play a part in a story and that part consumes them and defines them. I’ve never really played a part in any story except my own.”

I said, “So, you’re more like me, more human than fey.”

Maverick sighed and said, “Not even that. I’ve lived in Arcadia so long that I tend to not fit in with regular people at all. They usually start giving me the evil eye the moment that they see me. They think I’m a full fey.”

I said, “I have to admit, I thought you were a full fey at first too. Still, you and I seem to have a lot in common. I feel comfortable around you.”

Maverick said, “I don’t know the sort of things that Dugald has done to you, but I think you and I have both had a very harsh upbringing, and we’re both stuck between two worlds. In that way, we have a great deal in common.”

I asked, “What was your upbringing like?”

Maverick looked to the side and said, “We’d better get to work. Dugald will wonder what’s taking you so long.”

I sighed miserably but nodded. It seemed that Maverick wasn’t ready to tell me everything about his past yet, but I could wait. Patience was one thing that I had learned well from Dugald. For the rest of the day, I practiced the spells I had learned that I hoped would help me to escape, mostly the entangling vines trap and the flash of firelight. I also continued researching different ways to disguise myself in case I did manage to get away entirely. It was something I had started researching at the beginning of the year, using magic to alter my features. Still, after last night, I had the feeling that Dugald would see straight through any magical disguises since he was a master of disguise himself, but it would be worth a try.

Maverick helped me a great deal. Disguise was one of the things he was very good at and he taught me how to alter my features slightly, and then dramatically all in one day. I still needed practice, but I never dreamed that I would learn the spell that quickly, so we spent the rest of the day talking in my greenhouse. He even changed back into human form so that we could lie next to each other and look at the clouds through the hole in the top of the Greenhouse. I told him most of what had happened to me since I started working for Dugald. I told him about my Mother’s suicide and my training as a child. Still, I was hesitant to tell him about my initiation. The humiliation I endured was still hard for me to accept or think about. Still, it seemed that Maverick wanted to know everything about me.

I just muttered, “It’s almost time for dinner. I think I’ve talked enough for now.”

Maverick asked, “Can’t you tell me everything? I like hearing about your past. The fact that you’ve managed to stay sane after going through so much gives me hope. It’s inspiring.”

I said, “Well, you don’t seem to want to tell me everything, so I’m going to withhold some information until I’ve learned more about you.”

Maverick said, “Well, I suppose this exchange of information has been unequal. You have the right to know more about me after telling me all of that.”

I sighed and said, “You’re talking like a full fey again.”

Maverick asked in a surprised tone, “Am I?”

I said, “When people talk to one another, they aren’t keeping track of whether or not the ‘exchange of information’ is equal. They do it for the pleasure of having someone else’s company. Still, you can assume if someone opens up to you and tells you some of their secrets, or something about their past, they probably want you to do the same as a sign of trust.”

Maverick said, “I’ve just never had that sort of relationship with anyone. I’ve never had anyone that I felt I could trust.”

I said, “If you’re not ready, I understand.”

Maverick said, “No, I think if I can tell anyone a secret it’s you. We have to trust each other. After all, we trust each other with our lives already.”

I said, “Very true.”

Maverick sighed and said, “My Mother was one of the fey, but my Father was human. That was why I was born in Arcadia. She desired him and they became lovers. But, what she wanted most was a child. When she discovered that she was pregnant she left him and returned.”

I said, “I know this is going to sound stupid, but I never thought that a fey could get pregnant. I knew that a male fey could impregnate a human girl, but I just never thought that a female fey could get pregnant from a human man.”

He said, “Well, of course they can, if they mate with anything compatible with the form they take. For instance, if my Mother had taken the form of a wolf and mated with a real wolf, she could’ve had a half-fey wolf cub.”

I said, “Interesting. I just always thought that they preferred to kidnap human children and replace them with fetches, rather than actually giving birth to them.”

Maverick said, “Normally they would, but my Mother loved my Father. She wanted to have his child.”

I said, “I didn’t think that the fey could fall in love, either.”

Maverick said, “They can fool themselves into believing it’s possible. My Mother wanted to be in love or to play a role where she was in love. And, when she found my Father, he was a lonely man that was pining over his lost wife. He seemed perfect.”

I said, “You seem bitter.”

He said, “I can’t help it. She just used him. She used me too. She wanted to play at being in love, then she wanted to play at being a Mother, but when it came down to it, she couldn’t actually feel the things she was trying to portray. But, she tried to love my Father.”

I said, “If you don’t mind me asking, why did she leave him then? It seems she didn’t complete her role. Fey are immortal, she could’ve stayed with him for his entire life. It would go by quickly for her.”

Maverick said, “I asked her the same thing. She told me that she wanted to stay with him, but to live with him she would have to leave Arcadia, and she didn’t think she could. She was afraid she would dwindle away without the fey energies that created her, and she was afraid that if she became weak it might kill me as well. She said she left for my own good.”

I said, “I guess that makes sense. Still, she could’ve gone back and forth, couldn’t she?”

He said, “For a while, she did. She would go for one week to Arcadia, and then she would return for a week to live with my Father. He loved her so much he didn’t mind as long as he got to see her again.”

I said, “At least she didn’t abandon him like my Father did to my Mother.”

Maverick nodded and said, “Yes, I got to know my Father, and I loved him. After she had me my Mother would take me with her. My Father understood me better than my Mother ever could. He helped me learn how to be more human. Then, one day when we went to visit him, we found him dead. He had been murdered.”

I asked, “Murdered?”

Maverick nodded and said, “My Mother had a rival for her affection, someone obsessed with her. She was trying to keep my Father a secret, but apparently her stalker must’ve followed her one day. He killed my Father out of jealousy.”

I asked, “Another human?”

Maverick said, “No, a fey.”

I asked, “But jealousy is an emotion, so how did he feel it?”

Maverick said, “Fey can feel some emotions, especially petty ones. Plus, I’m sure he was playing the part of a jealous rival and felt that it was the proper thing to do.”

I said, “That’s awful.”

He continued, “My Mother hated him for it at first. You see, she had always hated him, but now she had a reason. Isn’t it odd how fey have so much trouble feeling love, but they can feel jealousy and hatred quite well?”

I nodded, once again thinking of my own Father, and wondering if he was starting to feel jealous that he never knew his daughter. Even Dugald knew me better than he did.

Maverick said, “I wanted to avenge my Father, but my Mother wouldn’t let me. She told me that I wouldn’t stand a chance against the fey that killed him. He was too powerful. And, she was right. It would’ve been suicide.”

I nodded.

He sighed and said, “My Mother is a member of that her fey stalker’s court. And, he started to take pity on her. Without my Father, her role was a lot less defined and she was starting to grow tired of me. So, he offered to give me a job, something to keep me occupied.”

I stammered, “Oh, Dear God! Then, your Father’s murderer was…”

Maverick said, “That’s right. It was your Father, Brion.”

I asked, “And now you have to work for him?”

Maverick said, “Yes. I’m bound to work for him until I die, or until I get a better offer. As I’ve told you, none of the other fey care about me enough to ‘take me off of his hands,’ so he’s been sending me on suicide missions like this one. Once I’m dead, I think he thinks my Mother might accept his advances. I hate to tell him, she still despises him as much as she did before, more so since he killed my Father. But, after I grew up and looked a great deal like my Father, only with more delicate features like my Mother, it hurt her too much to be around me. So, she just let him have me as a sort of assistant.”

I asked, “How can you stand it?”

He said, “I guess the same way you can stand your Master. I try to find the good in him, little though there is. Still, it seems the best thing about him is you.”

I began to cry, “You can’t be my true love. How can you stand to even be around me?”

Maverick hugged me and said, “It isn’t your fault where you came from. You’re Father is responsible for your Mother’s death as much as he’s responsible for my Father’s. We both have good reasons to despise him, and we’re both in the same fix. We’re both working for someone who makes us do things that we hate.”

I said, horrified, “Dinner! We have to go now. If I’m late for dinner, I’ll be in big trouble."

Chapter 18

I knew when I saw Dugald staring at the crumbs of food in front of him that I was in more than just a little trouble, but I tried to pretend not to notice. I grabbed Maverick from my shoulder and threw him in the air. He understood immediately and perched on one of the arches of the ceiling, carefully shielding himself away from Dugald’s line of sight. I didn’t think that Dugald would go so far as to hurt my “familiar,” but after the incident with the lamb, I could never be sure of what he was thinking.

I said, “I’m sorry, Master. I got carried away researching a spell and lost track of time. Still, I think you’ll be pleased to know the time wasn’t wasted. I learned a spell.”

Dugald’s voice was gravelly and cold, “Funny, you were never late for dinner before you made the bloody bird. Is this going to be a recurring problem?”

I said, “No, of course not. I really am sorry. I just lost track of time and…”

He snapped, “You were in that greenhouse of yours! There was no way you could’ve lost track of time so easily. Were you playing in there? Talking to the stupid raven?”

I swallowed hard but didn’t say anything.

Dugald continued, “Yes, I know you’ve been talking to it. If it’s a raven, it can talk back. You have a mental link to your familiar anyway. I knew letting you create one was a bad idea.”

I said, “Please, Master, forgive me. It won’t happen again.”

Duglad muttered in a murderous voice, “Don’t even call me that right now.”

Dugald looked up and I flinched in horror. His eyes were blood red and his teeth were sharp points. He looked exactly as he had the night that he savaged Accalon, only this time his wrath was on me, and I knew it would fall on me with the force of an avalanche.

I didn’t even have time to run, but I tried. Even though I knew it would infuriate him further if I tried to run away, that expression on his face wasn’t human. Those eyes no longer belonged to Dugald. I knew then that I was never talking to Dugald from the moment I entered the room. The entire conversation wasn’t like him at all. Even though I knew he would be angry if I was late, he would’ve normally at least asked about the spell. And, he would’ve never declined hearing me call him “Master.” Whatever was sitting at the other end of the table was an embodiment of his rage, his demon wearing his body like a set of armor.

He leapt across the table, and for a moment I saw demonic wings spring from his back with a tearing noise and a shower of blood near the spot where the tattoo was located. He took his ceremonial dagger from its sheath and cut his way down my apprentice robe until I was naked and grabbed his flail from his side in a motion so fluid and graceful that even in my terror I could see its beauty. Then, he brought it onto my back as hard as he could. I realized, at that moment, that he was right, pain does indeed have coloration. At that time, it was red, black, and green, little spots of color clouding my vision. I could hear Maverick cawing above me. His caws sounded like screams of fury and horror, and he dove in front of Dugald, pecking at his eyes. The dagger swung too close to him and a few of the feathers flickered down from his wing, like dead leaves.

I raised a hand and whispered, “Don’t. He’ll kill you. He’s not himself right now.”

Maverick hovered there for a few moments. Even on his face as a raven, I could see some expression. He was worried about me and furious at Dugald, but he nodded and flew back up into the rafters, still screeching in protest, hopping from one perch to the next in case I should need him.

Dugald said, “Smart, calling off that bird. One more inch and you would’ve seen what he looks like on the inside all over the floor.”

I stammered, “Who are you?”

He grinned and slammed the flail across my back again. As he pulled it off, I felt a chunk of flesh the size of a leather belt come off with it. Blood was pooling beneath me. Every time I moved, I was slipping on it. One, two, three, four, five, the lashes kept coming. I lost count before twenty, but I was starting to feel weak and could see darkness closing in on my eyes. The burning pain of my back exposed to the air felt as though there was a literal monster on it, clawing at me every second, biting. I was lying face down in a pool of my own blood, and the only sounds were from Maverick screaming from the rafters and Dugald’s cackling laugh, but that laugh didn’t belong to him either. The laughing voice was deeper and richer than that of Dugald. It was demonic laughter.

The demon whispered in my ear, “You’ve denied him too long. He’s frustrated. I’m going to let him have his way.”

I heard the swish of fabric as Dugald’s robe came off and the metallic jingle of the buckle of Dugald’s belt. Maverick screeched louder in protest, and diving down, tried to bite at Dugald’s eyes again, but the demon merely slapped him away with his hand, as though he was swatting a fly. Still, it was enough force to slam Maverick hard against the wall. Maverick struggled to get up, but was unable to regain his footing and couldn’t do anything but watch.

I muttered in a feeble voice, “Please, not that again. Please.”

The demon said, “Your voice is falling on deaf ears right now.”

I said in a whisper, “I know you can hear me somewhere in there, Dugald. Please, stop him. I think I might die if you don’t…”

The demon said in a growl of rage, “Don’t you dare address him. You’re under my control now. I’m not a weak Master like that fool.”

I flinched as his hands began to wander across my body. My eyes rolled back in my head, as I tried to imagine myself being anywhere but where I was, enduring anything but the touch of those terrible hands. Still, it wasn’t as easy to escape this time. For some reason all I could do was silently scream, quietly beg, but I couldn’t ignore the sensation of him touching me. Still, it seemed that my plea must have reached Dugald’s ears, because before he attempted to ravage me, he suddenly stopped cold.

I heard Dugald say in his own voice, “What have I done? Aisling, is that you?”

I used the last of my strength to turn halfway over and look at him. Dugald was himself again. His eyes were hazel, his face was pallid, and his teeth were no longer sharp points. His was naked as well, and he was fumbling around for his robes, as though trying to hide his shame. He seemed to give up, and looked down at me instead, with an expression of stupefied horror and deep sorrow. He was looking at the blood on his hands in a mirror of my expression the night that I had killed my lamb.

I muttered, “Thank God.”

I was only vaguely aware of what happened after that. He didn’t bother throwing on his robe, but grabbed a component pouch from the front pocket of it. I could feel him lifting my body up. Every motion that my body went through caused excruciating waves of pain to slide down my spine. I could hear the flutter of wings as Maverick followed close by.

Dugald muttered, “Don’t worry. You’ll be okay. I’m going to help you. Just hang in there. Don’t close your eyes.”

I saw the long arches and candelabras above me and realized he was taking me to the sacrificial chamber. Still, instead of laying me down on the altar, he put me face down in a large silver circle on the ground and began to mutter incantations. He took the pouch from around his neck and pulled out four strange crystal orbs that glowed with an inner light and placed them in the four cardinal directions around the circle, very carefully and precisely. Then he started chanting and singing.

Healing magic feels very strange to the person it’s preformed upon. It was the first time I had ever felt healing magic, though I had preformed it on many people in the past. As he sang and chanted, it felt as though my skin was actually melting together, as though it was liquefying like smelted metal. It was as though my entire back was numb for one blissful moment as the new skin covered the open wounds. Still, I could tell he wouldn’t be able to heal it entirely. Dugald was already starting to sweat with effort, and the first of the crystals burst in front of my eyes, followed by the sounds of the other three breaking in turn. In that moment, I knew what the crystals were. They were crystallized magical essence. He was using magical essence to heal my wounds. It sent a chill down my spine to realize it. Magical essence is valuable, so I must’ve been very close to death for him to use it, especially to use four crystals, and that wasn’t even enough to fully heal me.

Dugald broke his concentration, and the pain immediately came back. Somehow, the pain seemed worse, but I knew that was because my I had more skin to feel it. I was much better, but that wouldn’t make me feel better.

Dugald muttered, “That was close. That was too damn close.”

I shivered and stammered, “Why? Why did you do that to me?”

Dugald was silent. His hair hid most of his expression from me.

I whispered, “It wasn’t you, was it? It was that thing inside of you.”

Dugald wouldn’t even look at me, but I did notice a few tears sliding down his cheeks.

He said, “I was angry. I was angry that you were late for dinner and angry you had created a familiar after our conversation. When I’m angry, it gets harder and harder to control. What did I do to you? What did I say?”

I said, “You accused me of spending all day talking to my familiar. Then you tore off my clothes and lashed me—by then, I could tell it wasn’t you. You said you were frustrated, that I had denied you for too long…”

I couldn’t continue.

Dugald said in a horrified voice, “I don’t want to hear anymore.”

I said, “You stopped yourself before anything else could happen. Thank you for that.”

Dugald slowly got to his feet and said, “Let me help you get to your room.”

I said, “I think I can get there myself.”

I stood up, but my legs were wobbly. My vision blurred, and before I could protest, Dugald had an arm around my waist and my other arm locked solidly around his shoulders.

He looked at me and tears swam in his eyes as he said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do it,” I muttered, though I still am not sure how much of that I believed at the moment. I’m not sure how much of that I believe today. The demon was the one that did it, but the thoughts that motivated it were Dugald’s.

As he escorted me up the stairs he said, “I’m having the servants draw you a bath. It’ll sting a lot but take it before it gets cold. I’ll rub you with the ointment and then bandage you when you…”

I simply shook my head.

Dugald said, “Then, I’ll leave some bandages for you, but you’ll need someone to apply the ointment properly.”

I said, “My familiar can apply the ointment. I learned a spell today that can change him into a human for short periods of time.”

Dugald muttered, “Oh, I see.”

I could hear the bitterness he was trying to hide in his voice.

I said in a furious whisper, “You shouldn’t have told me I could create a familiar if you didn’t want me to do it.”

Dugald said, “I know. It’s not that, it’s just that after our conversation, I thought the timing was a bad on your part.”

I said, “I can see why you would think that, but I thought the timing was fine. We had reached an understanding, and you knew I was planning to do it. I’ve been planning to for quite some time.”

Dugald said, “Then, I’ll try not to resent that anymore. It’s behind us now.”

I asked, “But, how can I trust you now? What if that thing gets in control of you again?”

Dugald said, “It won’t.”

As we reached my room, I said, “Thank you. You saved my life. I know those crystals were valuable.”

He waved a hand as though they were nothing and said, “They grow in the caverns. We’re just lucky I had some on hand. There’s no need to thank me. I’m the one who nearly killed you in the first place. It won’t happen again.”

I asked, “Even if I made you very angry?”

Dugald said, “Even then. I usually have more control than that. I need to spend this evening in meditation, to figure out what went wrong. Still, if you need anything, send your raven to fetch me.”

I said, “I will. Thank you, Master.”

He seemed relieved and said, “Think nothing of it, please. Goodnight, Aisling.”

Saying that the water would sting was definitely an understatement. I yowled in pain the moment the hot water touched my back, losing control of myself for an instant and falling almost entirely under the water. I felt Maverick’s arms beneath me for a moment, lifting me out of the water slightly so my head was at least over the edge of the basin. There were tears in his eyes, and oddly, they seem to crystallize into ice as they fell. For a moment, I wanted to protest his presence, but I knew he had seen my body for most of the evening. His help was too appreciated for me to be bashful.

Maverick muttered, “Damn him. I’ll peck his eyes out.”

I said, “No. It’s okay. I’ll be alright now.”

Maverick asked, “Does he do this to you often?”

I said, “He’s never done it like that. He nearly killed me tonight. It was that beast inside of him. It gained control.”

Maverick said, “It might’ve initially been the creature that hit you, but those were his thoughts. But that’s not why I want to kill him. He was going to...”

I said, “I know what he was going to do. He was furious with me. He would’ve punished me, but he wouldn’t have normally gone that far. He especially would’ve known better than to touch me like that.”

Maverick said, “And, I actually thought my Master was worse than yours. I’m such a fool. Maybe that’s why he sent me here, to see this.”

I said, “You’re master is worse than mine. He actually wants to kill you.”

Maverick said, “Dugald doesn’t want you to die. Doesn’t that seem more sinister to you? Why does he care about you so much?”

I grunted and didn’t say anymore. That was a question that I had been having trouble with for a very long time. Why did he go to such lengths to spare me, when he knew how I felt about him?

I scrubbed my skin in silence for a moment, watching my blood turning the water pink. Once I had numbly scrubbed my entire body, I sat there in shock until the water was cold. The events of the night were playing over and over again in my mind, and it occurred to me what almost happened. Not only had I almost been raped again, but I had almost died. Even in the cold, when I had the fever, I never felt the fear I had when I realized I was losing that much blood. It was because I knew what awaited me when I died now, and I actually felt like I had something to live for. I looked up at Maverick and took in his handsome features and the concerned expression on his face. I suddenly realized even if it should’ve been too soon, I did love him. He was willing to die to protect me, and he would’ve died trying had I not insisted he fly away.

Maverick asked, “Can I help you up?”

I nodded and he put his hands beneath my arms and lifted me out of the bathtub, putting a long dry cloth towel around my shoulders. I began to dry myself but screamed in pain as towel began to stick to my back. I could see the blood on it. It seemed that the cuts had reopened. I knew Dugald hadn’t been able to heal them up entirely even with the assistance of the magical essence, but they were still much larger gashes than I expected and there were long bruises around them that made my carved wings look purple. I looked at Maverick and realized he didn’t look very much better. His jacket was hanging open, damaged from the scuffle. Even though his body was in better shape than mine was, from the purple forming around his right side, I could see that he had a few bruised ribs. He was lucky that Dugald had only slapped him down with his hand when he tried to stop him the second time.

Maverick said, “Lie down. I’m going to apply this ointment for you.”

I motioned at his ribs and said, “Who’s going to apply it to you?”

He smiled and said, “I can take care of myself, don’t worry about me. Just let me help you.”

I did as he commanded, lying down on my stomach. He gently put a fresh towel across my lower half, and just the small amount of effort it took for him to show enough compassion to cover me pushed me over the edge. I began to cry. I wailed into my pillow, and to my surprise, I heard Maverick crying with me. He was smoothing my hair and sitting next to me. I found for once I didn’t want to flinch away from the contact. I actually wanted him to hold me. As though he read my mind, he gently took me by the shoulders and lifted me slightly so that I was pressed against his chest. I sat there and cried and breathed in his scent until I began to calm down. Something about his fragrance was soothing. He continued to smooth my hair and hold me, being very careful to avoid touching my back.

Finally, he said in a whisper, “Do you feel any better?”

I muttered, “Yes.”

He said, “Okay. Get back on your stomach and I’ll apply this ointment. I get the feeling that it’s going to sting, but I’ll try to be gentle.”

I did, and he poured the ointment onto a rag and applied the rag gently to the marks. As gentle as he was, it still made the gashes feel as though they were on fire. Still, I knew from experience that whatever was in the ointment would heal my wounds faster and would reduce the scarring, so I endured it, trying not cry out. I didn’t want Maverick to think he was doing anything to hurt me.

When he was finished, I sat up and he bandaged my back, wrapping the bandages all the way around my torso, not looking at me from the front, but concentrating on the wounds on my back. He was so careful to make sure he wasn’t making me uncomfortable, that I was barely aware that I was still nude at all. By the time he was finished, my back and chest were covered entirely.

He said, “That should hold nicely. How does it feel? Not too snug, I hope.”

I shook my head, “No, I think it’s just right. Thank you.”

Maverick said, “Anytime. Now, let me find you a sleeping gown.”

He grabbed one of my sleeping gowns from my drawer and gently put it over the bandages.

I said, “Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that. After all, you’ve already seen my body now.”

Maverick said, “No. I’ve seen a poor girl getting tortured and humiliated. You haven’t shown me anything, so I haven’t seen it.”

I said, “Maverick, how did you get to be so kind?”

He just smiled and blushed slightly. His blush actually looked almost purple beneath his snow white skin.

He said, “This might be a bad time to ask, but when he tried to…well, you said ‘not again.’”

I sighed and said, “I guess that sort of picks up where I left off in my story. When it was time for my initiation, he told me that he was going to sacrifice my virgin blood on the altar. I thought he meant he was going to kill me, but instead he raped me in front of all of the other cultists, most of them fey. They thought it was hilarious.”

Maverick’s hands balled into fists for a moment.

He muttered, “One thing I detest is violence to women, but particularly that kind of violence in general. Dugald is a terrible man. I hate him.”

I said, “I’ve seen a kinder man somewhere buried deep inside of him, but he’s been through even worse things than I have, and eventually he was consumed and driven mad.”

Maverick said, “And, you’re afraid if you don’t escape you will be as well.”

I said, “Yes. I’ve already started noticing that he’s right. Killing for mercy is still killing, and I’m starting to become complacent in it. It’s only a matter of time and then I’ll be no better than he is.”

Maverick said, “I won’t let that happen.”

I said, “Then, you’ll help me escape?”

Maverick said, “I promised you that I would.”

I said, “I could be wrong, but I think we’re closer now than we were when you first made that promise.”

Maverick stroked my cheek and said, “More than you know.”

I asked, “Maverick, spying on Dugald isn’t the only reason you’re here, is it?”

Maverick said, “No, it isn’t.”

I asked, “Why did my Father send you here? And, please be honest, even if the truth might hurt me, I need to hear it.”

Maverick frowned, looking away from me.

He muttered, “He wanted me to spy on Dugald, but he also wanted me to retrieve you. He knew how lonely you were, so he wanted me to seduce you and to take you back to Arcadia. The plan was that after we got to his Court I would abandon you, and he would have you again.”

I asked, “You hate the thought of sexual violence, but you’re okay with letting a woman get attached to you and then leaving them?”

Maverick said, “No, I would normally hate that too. But, I thought when I found out he was trying to get his daughter…”

I finished the sentence, “That I was the sort of person who deserved that kind of treatment.”

Maverick looked ashamed and muttered, “I’m sorry.”

I said, “That’s okay. I thought it was something like that.”

Maverick said, “But, I’m not going to do it. Even when I met you that first night, I couldn’t do it. You don’t deserve to be treated that way. You aren’t your Father, and you certainly don’t deserve to be delivered to him. He’s almost as bad as Dugald.”

I said, “I don’t blame you for wanting to hurt me when you came here. After all, I am the child of the man that killed your Father.”

Maverick said, “It was childish of me to think that I could have some sort of revenge by hurting you. You had nothing to do with it, other than just being accidentally related to him. I was such a fool. Brion was playing me from the start, using my anger to get to you.”

I muttered, “That sounds about like him. I’m so sorry, Maverick. It might not be my fault, but I’m ashamed he’s even part of my blood. Sometimes, I can be just as cold. I never want you to see that side of me.”

Maverick said, “All of us have a side like that, but you’re heart is in the right place, and that’s what matters for now. When you get out of here, you can start over. Maybe we can even start over together.”

He reached out and entwined his fingers in mine. His blue eyes burned into my orange ones and I didn’t know why, but I started to cry again. He bent down and kissed the tears away from my cheeks.

I said, “I’m starting to believe in true love.”

Maverick grinned and said, “I believe in it too, because I can see her in front of me right now.”

I blushed and turned away slightly.

As soon as I snuffed out the torches on the wall and was comfortable, Maverick slid into bed next to me. And, despite how tired and sore I was, I reached out and touched him. I ran my hands gently along his face, then his chest, his arms, and the rest of his body. I noticed as I touched him, most of his clothes were no longer on. He was only wearing a set of trousers. Still, I found I wasn’t afraid of him at all. He didn’t try to touch me. He simply kept his hands behind his head, as though he was looking at the stars, but I did hear him moaning with pleasure as my hands glided over his skin. Somehow, touching him made me feel better about the events of the day. It somehow made me feel cleaner.

I muttered, “Maverick, please, will you kiss me again? I want to feel you touching me. I’m ready.”

He asked, “Are you sure?”

I said, “Yes, very sure.”

Maverick gently reached over, guiding my face with his hands and kissing me passionately. Again, I was struck by the coldness of his mouth and his skin, but something about it was comforting, especially contrasted with the burning pain on my back. He seemed to realize it and reached over, pressing his cool hands against the bandages. It felt very soothing.

Maverick muttered, “You’re so warm.”

I said, “And, your body is so cool. It’s like being touched by morning dew.”

He asked, “Is that bad?”

I said, “Not at all. I love it.”

I began kissing him more passionately, running my hands behind his neck and down his back. Then I reached for the tie on his trousers…

Maverick moaned and said, “Please, don’t tempt me. You’re still injured. I couldn’t forgive myself if I hurt you, even by accident.”

I said, “I told you, I’m ready.”

He said, “Not yet. I think for now, it would be better for you to get some rest, but don’t worry. I’m ready too.”

He was right. My back was on fire from just the small amount of moving that I’d done, and while I wanted him, my desire was clouding my judgment.

I sighed and said, “You’re probably right, but as soon as I’m better…”

He said, “Yes, as soon as you’re better.”

Maverick kissed me gently and then cradled me in his arms. He began to hum and sing gently, and I found myself falling into a deep sleep. My last conscious thought was that it was probably a form of glamour, but I didn’t care. It felt wonderful to be held, and I felt more comfortable and safe than I had ever felt in my life. And, with sleep, the pain faded away, and pleasant dreams replaced the pleasant thoughts in my mind.

Chapter 19

The next day, I awoke with Maverick perched on the table next to the bed as a raven, watching me sleep. There was a note next to him in Dugald’s ornate script, and a neatly folded new apprentice gown.

It read, “Aisling, please forgive me for my behavior last evening. I’ve managed to regain control. Still, due to your injuries, you’re excused from work until you feel better. If you are okay to research, then you may do so, but don’t overdo it. If you feel up to it, I suggest that you use this opportunity to practice your healing magic on yourself. Send the raven to get me should anything go awry.”

Maverick said in his throaty raven voice, “Dugald brought it in here personally. He even thanked me for bandaging you. I told him he could go to Hell. He seemed to find that amusing.”

I said, “You’re lucky he did. Please, don’t antagonize him. I don’t want to wake up to find you dead on my pillow.”

He said, “I told you not to worry about me. Still, I won’t.”

I said, “Thank you.”

Maverick said, “I hate to admit it, but he’s probably right. If you feel up to it, you should probably practice healing yourself. It really couldn’t hurt to try to supplement his magic.”

I stretched and said, “I plan to. If I do a good enough job, maybe this evening I’ll be better.”

I winked. Maverick released a cawing chuckle and buried his head beneath his wing as though he was embarrassed.

He said, “You’re very stubborn when you want something, aren’t you?”

I said, “You have no idea. Besides, I thought you wanted it just as badly.”

He said, “Of course I do, but I’m trying to look out for you as well.”

Something about the way he said it rubbed me the wrong way.

I asked, “And, why do you want to do that? Is it because you think I’m your true love, or because my Father wanted you to do it?”

Maverick said, “Aisling, I pledged that I would be your companion for as long as we both live, and longer. What I meant by that was I’m going to be by your side looking after you in life and in the afterlife. I told you, I take my pledges seriously.”

I felt ashamed and muttered, “I’m sorry, Maverick.”

Maverick said, “It’s alright, Aisling. No one has given you any reason to trust them, have they?”

I said, “No, no one at all.”

Maverick said, “I’m going to change that. I promise that I will never abandon you willingly. If I ever leave your side, you’ll know it was against my will.”

I said, “I hope we can get out of here soon.  I keep worrying that you will be leaving my side sooner than later.  The longer we play at this, the more opportunities that Dugald has to find out.”

Maverick said, “Maybe I can find something out tonight. After all, you’ll be resting, so he’ll probably be working on his personal projects.”

I said, “Just promise me that whatever you do, you’ll be careful.”

Maverick seemed to grin and said, “Of course. I would never do anything to jeopardize celebrating your recovery.”

I dressed slowly and carefully, letting Maverick take in the view. My back felt as though it was still burning, but it also now had the combined pain of being sore as well. If I couldn’t use my healing magic on myself, I had a feeling my “recovery celebration” really would have to wait, at least another three days.

I asked, “Do you think I need fresh bandages yet?”

Maverick said, “They’re looking a little dirty, I’d take those off and then wait until after you use the magic. You might be able to bind them tighter if you magically bind them first.”

I said, “Good point.”

Before I could remove them, Maverick changed back into a human and removed them for me.

He gently kissed me on the neck and said, “They’re already looking much better. I’m looking forward to tonight.”

I grinned. “Me too…”

I turned to kiss him back, but his human form was already gone and there was a raven sitting on the ground looking at me, his mouth gaping open slightly as though he was grinning.

I muttered, “Tease,” and threw my shirt on, then picked him up and put him on my shoulder.

We went into my lab and I drew up a circle and began meditating, working to make my injuries heal more quickly. I focused inwardly on the wounds on my back, and the various types of pain that I was feeling. Even though I couldn’t see the wounds, I knew what they must’ve looked like. And, somehow, I could hone the magic on the sources of my pain. The magic took effect immediately. Even though they didn’t go as far as closing up, the burning subsided and I was left with the sore, achy pain only. I had a feeling that by the end of the day, the wounds would mostly be just a little more than shallow scratches and some light bruises. I could handle that. They would be no worse than the normal lash marks that I got from Dugald’s punishments on a regular basis. Still, I made sure before I broke the circle to bind them magically as well. Then, when I was finished, Maverick changed into his fey form and bandaged my wounds tightly closed. When I released the spell, I could tell that they would stay closed the entire day, as long as I was careful not to overstress myself.

Maverick said, “Well, that didn’t take very long. You’re very skilled at healing magic.”

I said, “Well, spontaneous healing magic. I’ve never been trained to do any sort of rituals, like the one Dugald did last night. Those take essence, and to Dugald the life of a prisoner isn’t exactly worth wasting a valuable resource.”

Maverick sighed and said, “I’d imagine not, especially since, from what you’ve told me, he planned to kill them anyway.”

I said, “I’m tired of being his torturer. I’m especially tired of giving those poor people false hope. I’ve got to get out of here soon.”

Maverick said, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that you do. Still, we need some sort of plan. You said you had a spell to entangle him, but that won’t do much if he can cast anything with incantations. I say you go straight for the throat, literally.”

I asked, “What do you mean?”

Maverick said, “Well, a trick the fey use against magic casters sometimes is simple sneezing powder, or drawing the moisture out of a person’s mouth. You know, anything that would make it hard for them to speak. It makes them very mad though. It’s considered the worst kind of insult.”

I said, “Well, I’m sure Dugald will be furious at me for trying to escape anyway. I might as well add one more insult to injury.”

Maverick changed back into a raven, and we went to the library and began to research. As usual, I began to find most of the useful spells in the normal books on magic. Despite all of Dugald’s emphasis on demonic pacts and evil magic, it seemed there was some very devastating magic at the fingertips of any mage just from research done in the Hermetic Order. For someone who disagreed with the Order so much, Dugald had plenty of books written by its various members.

After a few hours of pouring over ancient texts and scrolls, I came across just the spell.

I said, “This one makes the tongue spasm and twist uncontrollably. It’s a curse. It doesn’t last very long, but for the duration of the spell, the victim has difficulty speaking at all, so incantations are extremely difficult.”

Maverick glanced up from the book he was reading and said with a caw, “Sounds perfect, but how long do you think it’ll take you to learn it?”

I sighed and said, “I’m not really sure. The spell itself isn’t very complex, but I don’t exactly have anyone to practice on.”

Maverick said, “You could practice on me.”

I said, “I’d rather not. Even though there probably wouldn’t be any long term effects, I don’t know for sure. If I did a really bad job on the spell, I could permanently make you mute, or rip your tongue out. My magic is chaotic in nature, and it’s twisted. Even if nothing goes wrong, I’d wager that the effects of the spell won’t be pleasant.”

Maverick gulped audibly and said, “Well, when you put it that way…”

I said, “I’ll just have to make sure to get the incantation and the motions on this one right and hope for the best. I can’t have anything going wrong when we leave. It’ll probably take an entire season of study, but it’ll be worth it if we make it out of this alive.”

Maverick said, “I’d hate to suggest this, but you could use the prisoners…”

I said, “Absolutely not. Besides, the fact those poor souls have to go through enough, they might tell Dugald and that would blow our cover. I’ll just have to take an extra long time to learn it.”

Maverick said, miserably, “I haven’t learned anything much about Dugald yet anyway. I need something to report to my superiors, especially since I plan to come back ‘empty handed,’ I need to at least have enough information to make up for it.”

I asked, “You mean, I’m going to get you in trouble with my Father?”

Maverick said, “I’ll live.”

I said, “Maverick, what will he do to you if you don’t bring me back?”

Maverick said, “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

I said, “Well, I do.”

Maverick smiled and said, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll tell him the information on Dugald and that I formed a pact with you. As one of my kind, he’ll understand that I have to honor any deal that I make.”

I said, “I’d feel better if you didn’t have to go back at all.”

Maverick said, “I would too, but you don’t need to worry. He wouldn’t dare make me go against my word.”

I frowned but dropped the subject. I still didn’t like it. My Father seemed the type to do anything to get what he wanted, even if that meant a breach of etiquette that could potentially harm himself. From the small amount of research I had done on the fey, I knew that the fey had to honor their pacts, but what if my Father found a way to circumvent the rules, to make it so that Maverick couldn’t fulfill his end of our deal? If he did that, the backlash from Maverick being unable to return to me would probably be taken by my Father, but I had the feeling he was tough enough to take it. Not fulfilling a vow could entirely unravel a fey, like a ball of string pulled into a tangled mess. Maverick was only half fey, so he wouldn’t be unraveled, but my Father would be willing to take any penalty to stop him from coming back.

I said, “Well, if you can’t find any information about Dugald within an entire season or two, I don’t think you’ll be able to learn anything else no matter how long you stay. I don’t like the thought of you setting out to spy on your own though.”

Maverick said, “I’ll be okay. I can be pretty sneaky. I wouldn’t have survived this long if I couldn’t. Most of my ‘missions’ required gathering information. And, even if Dugald catches me, he thinks I’m your familiar, so killing me would have a bad effect on you. I don’t think after last night he would do it.”

I made an apprehensive sound and didn’t look up from my book.

Maverick said, “How about this then, I know a bit of fairy magic. If I can forge a mental link with you, you’ll get to see through my eyes for a short time. Then, you’ll at least be able to know if something goes wrong.”

I said, “Dugald might be able to sense me watching. It would be like scrying on him, and he has a connection to me. I still have to drink his blood.”

Maverick cocked his head and then said, “Then, maybe if we forged a mental connection and I could convey what I’m seeing by my thoughts. I doubt he would be able to pick up on that.”

I said, “Yes, he probably wouldn’t be able to sense that. Okay, sounds good.”

I spent the rest of the morning researching, but I was too tired to continue working after a few hours of intense study. My back was starting to ache again. I eventually took the book to my room and then flopped into bed for a nice long nap. Maverick changed back into a humanlike form and snuggled close to me, closing his eyes as well…

At around three in the morning, Maverick woke me up in raven form, pulling at my shirt with his beak and pecking me gently.

He whispered, “I heard Dugald leave his room. I think he met up with someone in the hallway. They said something about the library. I think I can spy on them from the great room. I’m going.”

I said, “Please, be careful.”

He said, “I will, but first, I need a little bit of your blood, to forge the connection.”

I stuck a finger out and Maverick quickly cut it with his scissor-like beak.

“Ouch,” I muttered.

He said, “Sorry, Love. No time to be gentle.”

He tilted his head back and the blood ran down his throat.

He muttered, “I’ll project my thoughts back to you. It’ll be sort of like seeing it through my eyes, though you’ll probably hear my mental commentary on things as well. I wish you were linked to me so you could answer any questions I have, but you’re right. If he’s connected to you, he might be able to sense any foreign blood in your veins.”

I said, “Please, please be careful out there.”

Maverick said, “Don’t worry. I already have a plan. There are raven gargoyles in the great room. I’ll glamour my skin to look like one, and perch across from the library. I’ll be fine.”

Maverick turned into a human and kissed me gently on the lips and then, he turned into a raven and fluttered out of my room so quickly it was almost as though he turned invisible. Even the sound of his beating wings seemed muffled, as though it was underneath a glass jar. It seemed he was already using some glamour.

I think it was the longest ten minutes of my life, waiting for Maverick to settle into a place where he wouldn’t be noticed. I caught an occasional thought like, “This ledge is too narrow,” or “Hmmm…they might be able to see me from here.” But, it seemed he was even trying not to think about anything but the mission at hand. It made me feel sorry for him. Apparently Maverick had plenty of experience hiding in dangerous situations, and I knew my own Father was the one responsible. I thought, at that moment, that somehow I would make it up to him. If we were able to escape together, I would make it up every day of our lives.

Finally, Maverick settled down and I heard him think, “There, I should have a good view from here. I don’t think they suspect anything either. He’s having a glass of wine with a man with a shaved head. I think the man matches your description of Accalon.”

Sure enough, as he spoke, I closed my eyes and I began to see flashes of what Maverick was seeing in the room. The man sitting across from Dugald was indeed Accalon. It appeared that they were having a casual conversation from the presence of the wine, but their faces told a different story. There was something serious and unspoken between them. It was the expression of a two people dreading a certain conversation and making small talk until they had to approach the subject.

Maverick thought, “Things look pretty tense.”

Then, Accalon and Dugald began to speak. I heard it as a strange echo in my mind.

Accalon said, “Please, Master, if you won’t use her, use my body for the ceremony.”

Dugald said, “No, Accalon. You know exactly why I can’t do that.”

Accalon said, “You promised you would give me the honor.”

Dugald said, “You’re the only one of the cultists that I know I can trust. If I take your body, they might suspect something. Besides, what do I gain from using your body?”

Accalon said, “Seduction. I’m part Satyr. I know seduction seems a bit crude for your tastes, but it’s more useful than you think. You wouldn’t have so many problems with Aisling if you were in my body.”

Maverick made a disgusted sound in his mind.

Dugald stood up, glaring at Accalon as though he was going to hit him and then sat back down, causally swirling the wine around in his glass, saying, “You know better than to approach that subject with me.”

Accalon said, “Forgive me, Master, but I feel that we need to discuss this. She’s changed you somehow. The others are starting to believe you’re weak, or that she might be your weak spot. You know how dangerous that is…”

Dugald snapped, “Of course I do. I’m not a fool.”

Accalon said, “Then, you need to take her body. If she were to come forward and say she ‘overthrew you,’ right now, they might actually believe it. She has natural shapeshifting abilities, chaotic magic that would adapt well to demonic power, and she already has all of the runes, sigils, and lessons carved into her that would make her an ideal body. Plus, she even still has a connection to you.”

Dugald said, “I know that, but I’ve left the decision up to her. And, now that she’s summoned her familiar, I think that means she’s chosen to live. I may lie, but I take my vows seriously. I can’t just go back on that bargain and kill her anyway…”

Accalon said, “But, I could. I wasn’t a part of that bargain. I could perform the ceremony and you could come in, act like you didn’t know what I was doing, and then bind her soul here. Then you could take my body, which would then be hers. But, let’s face it you don’t want me to do that, because you don’t want to kill her.”

Dugald said, “It would be a waste of talent to kill her. It would be like slashing up a beautiful painting.”

Accalon said, “It’s something more than that, though. You’re in love with her. I know it because you look at her the same way that I look at you.”

Dugald rolled his eyes and said, “Please, don’t start that again.”

Accalon said, “Let me help you. I could brew a love potion so strong she’ll never think of anyone but you. Or, I could at least brew a serum that would overwhelm her with need for a night or two.”

Dugald said, “I don’t want her to fall in love with me. What I’m feeling is nothing but an infatuation. It’ll go away and then her love would be a nuisance. As for a seduction serum, that wouldn’t do any good at this point anyway since she has a male familiar that can take human form.”

Accalon shrugged, “Then, kill the familiar.”

I could feel Maverick flinching.

Dugald said, “No. I’ve already done enough damage. If I want her to care about me, killing her familiar would be the last thing I would want to do.”

Accalon said, “You’re not feeling infatuation. You care about her too much for that, but I won’t argue with you. We need a solution to the problem at hand. The elements will be aligning just right for the ceremony during the winter of next year. You need to change bodies.”

Dugald flexed his hand and said, “You do have a point. This one is becoming unresponsive. I think the weakness of this body is partially what allowed the demon to take control.”

Accalon said, “If you won’t take me or Aisling, then I suggest Brock. He’s attractive, talented, and he’s only partly fey.”

Dugald asked, “Really? I always thought he was entirely fey.”

Accalon grinned and said, “I know, so did I, but I heard him discussing it with Myra. Plus, he’s one of the most loquacious when it comes to opposing you.”

Dugald said, “I might have to kill Myra as well. They’re together, are they not?”

Accalon said, “Yes, but it’s no big loss. She’s not very talented. When you’ve taken Brock’s body you can even use that to your advantage, giving her death as the reason that you had to ‘kill Dugald’ to avenge her.”

Dugald said, “The idea has its advantages…thank you, Accalon.”

He bowed slightly and said, “I always have your best interests in mind, Master.”

Dugald said, “We’ll have to tell Aisling what’s going on. She’ll need to know before the ceremony that I’ll be taking new body. Afterwards, I’ll have to pretend to be harsh with her, because if Brock really took my position, he would be concerned that she was still loyal to Dugald.”

Accalon said, “You’ll want to work on your laugh too. The eye color can be covered with glamour and dye as usual, but the laughter is your worst tell.”

Dugald said, “I know. Still, it’s very rare I laugh around anyone I don’t trust. What about Aisling, though? I can’t tell her the secret without her becoming a full member of the cult. But, then she’ll be free and if she talks to the others enough, she might turn against me and tell them my secret.”

Accalon said, “She won’t turn against you. She’s still so naïve. When she meets the others, I have no doubt she’ll be totally disgusted by them. They’re like a bunch of addicts looking for a fix.”

Dugald said, “Yes, they aren’t as professional as I am. They don’t respect the sacrifice of the victims. Aisling won’t like that. Still, when do you think she’ll be ready?”

Accalon sighed and said, “As much as I hate to admit it, I think she’s ready now. She’s read the primer, she works on her own to research whatever spells she desires, and she’s learning to kill. It might just be for mercy now, but that’ll change.”

Dugald said with a chuckle, “I never expected to hear you say that.”

Accalon said, “Don’t get me wrong, I still hate the bitch, but I know it’s what you want.”

Dugald said, “Then, maybe we should make her a full member, but when?”

Accalon said, “I’d say during fall, around her birthday. You could even pretend that you’ve chosen to kill her and have it be a big surprise.”

Dugald said, “That would be very poetic, but I might actually tell her this time that she’s been given that honor. What shall we do for her induction?”

Accalon said, “Have her kill the sacrificial victim. She probably isn’t ready for a vivisection ceremony, but a quick stab in the heart seems to be what she’s best at. We don’t even have to make it be a soul devouring ceremony either. That way, it’s just like…”

Dugald grinned widely and finished the sentence, “A mercy killing. Perfect.”

Accalon said, “Well, I already feel better now that we’ve solved two problems. Aisling will become one of us, and Brock will be your body.”

Dugald said, “I wish he was a Winter fey instead of a Summer, but sometimes we have to work with what we have. It won’t be much longer anyway.”

Accalon seemed surprised and said, “Do you mean that He’s coming soon?”

Dugald said, “As soon as I have enough cultists and enough sacrifices, yes.”

Accalon said in a voice bordering on rapture, “A world with no pain…”

Dugald chuckled and said, “For some people…”

Accalon said, “And, a world without the fey.”

Both Maverick and I went almost into a state of shock. The voices were almost muffled by the sound of Maverick’s increased heart rate.

Accalon asked, “What will happen to those fey in our number?”

Dugald said, “Who knows. Whatever happens, I know they won’t be obliterated. They’re the loyalist of His servants, after all. They’ll probably be able to choose whatever form they desire, demonic or otherwise. Some might even become human.”

Accalon asked, “And the halfers, like us?”

Dugald said, “They’ll receive the highest honors. After all, the research I’m doing couldn’t have been done without people like you and Aisling.”

Accalon sipped his wine, with a look on his face like a content cat.

Dugald said, “I’m sorry I was so hard on you, Accalon. Sometimes I do miss having you here.”

Accalon said, “No, it was my fault entirely. I shouldn’t have let my petty emotions get in the way of your desires. I knew better, but I was jealous.”

Dugald said, “Well, we won’t have to worry about these pesky emotions eventually. After all, emotions are what cause pain in the first place.”

Accalon said, “So true. And then, you won’t have to worry about your feelings for Aisling.”

Dugald said, “And she won’t have any reason to reject me. We can still follow our urges, after all. Still, we need to focus on one step at a time. Aisling’s induction into the cult will come first, and then the body changing ceremony.”

Dugald and Accalon drank for another hour. The rest of their conversation was mostly about mundane things. Though, I really shouldn’t call the conversation “mundane” considering what they were talking about. Let’s just say, the subject matter would’ve been mundane for Dugald and Accalon, such as the selection of victims in the region where Accalon was based. They did discuss astrological signs and when they thought the best time to perform their ultimate ceremony would be, but it was all speculation. Naturally, if they were performing a ceremony that was meant to summon some sort of “greater entity”, it should be on some sort of great astronomical event such as an eclipse or a lining of the planets, or when a certain astrological sign was pointing at the earth. Still, I gathered that it was all speculation and more of an aesthetic choice than anything useful. They decided they would plan that closer to time. Still, they did begin to discuss something that did interest me.

Accalon’s cheeks were red with heavy drinking by the time he said, “I didn’t want to tell you about this, but the Hermetic Order is on the move again.”

Dugald gasped, nearly choking on his wine, and said, “Why didn’t you mention that sooner, Fool?”

Accalon said, “Well, they haven’t exactly come close to finding this place, but I heard rumors from the cities nearby that there were some Magi poking around looking for you. You know, probably more of the usual.”

Dugald said, “Probably, but you still need to come to me the moment you hear this sort of information. Have they managed to capture any of our number?”

Accalon said, “No members of the cult yet, but they did manage to capture one of Fiona’s tongue-less servants. I’m sure they probed his mind until they found out about her. She left town when she realized he was missing. At least if they’re searching for her it will lead them away from you.”

Dugald settled back for a moment in relief, “Pity. She was very talented, and one of the few that I suspect was truly loyal to me.”

Accalon said, “They won’t catch her. She’ll seek sanctuary in Arcadia. Those fools will never risk ‘harassing the fey’ to find her there.”

Dugald said, “True, but we can’t take too many risks. Things are finally falling into place. We need as many able bodied cultists as we can get, especially the few loyal ones that we have left, and if the Magi were to find us here it could be a massacre.”

Accalon asked, “So, do you think it’s time to move again?”

Dugald said, “I’m going to prepare in case we need to.”

Accalon said, “The circle is still around the building. That should slow the fools down. But, where should we go this time?”

Dugald said, “I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to think it over very carefully. Certainly none of the places we occupied previously. I usually go to find a new location myself, but I think I’ve got too much to prepare here this time. Can I trust you with finding us a new location?”

Accalon eagerly said, “Yes, Master.”

Dugald said, “If you can do this for me, you’re due for a new title, and a higher share of the power.”

Accalon said, “That’s very generous of you, Master. I won’t let you down.”

Dugald said, “Well, get to it then. This has been a nice visit, Accalon. If you please me, perhaps I’ll even allow you to move back in, but only if you promise to stay away from my corpses and from Aisling.”

Accalon said, “I won’t fail you.”

Dugald merely waved a hand and said, “See to it that you don’t.”

I quickly snuffed out all of the torches in my room but the one by my bedside and pretended to be asleep. I even put a pillow beneath the covers to make it look as though I was cuddling something close. Still, it wouldn’t be a complete illusion. I quickly got up and grabbed some raven feathers from my component pouch and made them stick out from under the covers near the lump of pillow. I don’t know how I knew he would look in on me, but sure enough, as soon as I closed my eyes again, I heard the door creep open and I felt Dugald’s presence in the room for a moment.

He muttered, “Ah, under the covers, good,” And then he left.

About ten minutes later, Maverick began pecking frantically at the door. I quickly opened it and he bounded inside.

He muttered, “Not good…not good...not good…”

I said in a terrified whisper, “I know. I heard everything. It’s worse than you think too. Dugald came in to check up on me. If it hadn’t been for a few raven feathers and some quick thinking, he would’ve caught you.”

Maverick said, “I hate close calls. Good thinking.”

Maverick changed into his fey form and began to pace, “So they’re plan is to, I guess, sap the world of emotion and destroy the fey.”

I said, “Not just sap the world of emotion. From the sound of things, they’ll be killing everyone that isn’t one of us, or willing to become one of us, and the loyal followers will be robbed of emotion so they won’t be able to feel any pain. But yes, it sounds like he wants to kill off the fey.”

Maverick asked, “How do you know that just from that conversation?”

I said, “I don’t know for sure, but that seems more like what Dugald would want. I don’t think he’s crazy enough to destroy the entire world, but he wants to remake it into something else. My guess is that he would hand pick the people that he wanted to survive. The talented people, those loyal to him, the half-fey, and the Magi that he could bend to his will.”

Maverick said, “But not the normal humans or the fey.”

I said, “Right.”

Maverick said, “He said he was close. I wonder how close.”

I said, “What I want to know is what this thing is that he’s going to summon into the world. Actually, on second thought, I don’t want to know. Dugald is overconfident. I’m not sure if what he wants is really the same as what this monster is going give him.”

Maverick said, “We can’t panic. After all, Dugald could’ve been lying to Accalon.”

I said, “It’s very possible. I hope that’s the case. But, what should we do, Maverick? If I don’t leave by fall, I’ll have to become a member of the cult.”

Maverick said, “Well, I think I have enough information to bring back to Arcadia now. Let’s go, tonight.”

I said, “No. We can’t just run away on any random night. He’ll catch us and that would be worse than death. We have to wait until he’s weak, or preoccupied. I wish he had decided to go to search for another hideout. That would’ve been the perfect time.”

Maverick said, “That’s probably why he didn’t go. He knows that soon you’re either going to join the cult or die, and he probably didn’t want to give you a chance to escape.”

I tried to fight the panic building up inside of me. There was nothing that I would rather do at the time than to have simply run away with Maverick that night and taken my chances.

I asked, “You can cut through Arcadia, right? So if we did run away tonight, maybe he couldn’t follow us there.”

Maverick shook his head, “I could, but no. If we even enter Arcadia, your Father will be there waiting for us.”

I said, “Then, we have to wait until Dugald is too distracted to notice me.”

Maverick said, “Wait a minute, he said something about a body exchange ceremony, didn’t he?”

I said, “Don’t remind me. Now that I know what he wanted me for…”

I couldn’t finish the sentence. I didn’t know why, but for some reason I felt betrayed. I knew that every design Dugald carved into my flesh was meant to teach me a lesson, but it seemed that it was meant to do more than that as well. Apparently some of those designs were sigils, and some of them were landmarks so that Dugald could remember who he was in a different body, my body.

Maverick said, “Don’t you see, if Dugald is doing some sort of ceremony to switch bodies, he’ll be distracted. I’m sure it would take a long time. We could run away during the ceremony.”

I asked, “What if he needs my help to complete it?”

Maverick said, “I’m guessing if he even gets any help at all, it’ll be Accalon. Remember, he said that he would have to let you know he would be in a different body, which probably means you won’t be involved in the ceremony at all.”

I said, “You’re right. That would be the perfect time, but there’s one problem.”

Maverick asked, “What?”

I said, “He’ll be inducting me into the cult in the fall. The body transfer isn’t going to happen until winter.”

Maverick was silent.

I said, “But, you’re right. That would be the best time to attempt to escape.”

Maverick said, “But, you can’t go through with that ceremony. We’ll figure out a different time…”

I shook my head, “No, there won’t be a better time.”

Maverick said, “But you’ll have to kill again.”

I sighed and said, “Whether that man or woman is killed by me or not, if Dugald captured them, they’re going to die. He’s right, I’d be the most merciful, and if their soul isn’t going to be torn apart, death is better than living as a prisoner of Dugald.”

Maverick said, “If you’re a full member of the cult, the Magi might kill you instead of sparing your life.”

I said, “They might, but they might not. Even if I’m a full member of the cult, all I have to do is make it through one season and then we can escape together. I think that Dugald will let me ‘take it slow’ and that I won’t learn much in terms of demonic magic before it’s time for us to escape. And, I have a lot of useful information to offer them the Magi in exchange for my life.”

Maverick said, “They won’t exchange what you know for your life, but you still have a good heart. Anyone who looks into your mind will know that. You might still have a chance. I don’t like it, though.”

I said, “Neither do I, but until we can come up with a better idea, I guess I don’t really have a choice.”

Maverick sighed and said, “Life hasn’t been very kind to you, Aisling. Still, it will get better. Even if the Magi decide not to be merciful, I’ll rescue you somehow.”

I muttered, “I wouldn’t want you to risk your life for me.”

Maverick said, “Well, for once, you don’t have a say in the matter. I finally have purpose in my life again. I need you too much to lose you now.”

I said, “I love you, Maverick.”

He said, “I love you too. My heart is yours.”

I said, “And mine belongs to you.”

After we confessed our love, I knew it was true. It was the most natural thing I had ever said. I hadn’t even thought about it, the words I felt in my heart just slipped from my lips, but his response was to me like the purest of water offered to someone dying of thirst. I could tell from his expression he felt the same way. It was as though fate brought us together. He needed me as much as I needed him. Both of us led such horrible lives. I was a prisoner of Dugald, and Maverick was a prisoner of my Father. Our lives seemed to mirror one another’s, but we both had one thing in common besides our misery--meeting each other was the only good thing that had ever happened to either of us.

Maverick wrapped his arms around me and gave me a long passionate kiss. We feverishly began stripping our clothes off. I no longer cared about the soreness of my back. I barely even felt it. I no longer wanted the bandages on either.

I said hungrily, “I want the bandages off…”

A small dagger appeared in Maverick’s hand, and he slowly cut down the side of the bandages. He was very careful not to cut them too fast, probably afraid that I would think of Dugald cutting my robes. I have to admit that the idea did return my mind for just a moment, but I was able to dismiss it just as quickly. As soon as he cut the last piece, he pulled the bandages off in a fluid motion and a flourish, as though he was removing a tarp to reveal a beautiful statue. The air hitting my back made me gasp in surprise, but it barely stung at all. Both of us were entirely naked. We paused for a moment, looking at one another. I felt a blush on my cheeks, but I wasn’t ashamed like I was when Dugald saw me. Maverick’s body was entirely white, the same color of fallen snow. He looked almost like a Greek statue, almost too beautiful to touch, but I wanted to anyway. I reached out and ran my hand across his chest.

He said, as though he was stunned, “You’re so beautiful…”

I turned my head away, “No, I’m not. My body is so scarred…”

Maverick took my face in his hands and said, “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

I was going to say something snide about thinking that fey weren’t able to lie, but I saw by the look in his eyes that he was telling the truth. I never thought of myself as beautiful, and the thought that someone could think that I was, to the point of adoration, overwhelmed me.

I swallowed back tears and said, “Not like you. You’re a work of art. Is this glamour, or is this really you?”

Maverick chuckled and said, “No, I’m not nearly attractive enough for this to be glamour. I always thought I was too thin and frail.”

I said, “Not at all. You’re perfect.”

Maverick smiled slightly and looked away as though he was embarrassed. He gently turned me around and inspected my back.

He muttered, “Your cuts have almost closed up entirely. Most of the bruises are even gone. You’re ready physically, but are you sure that you’re ready?”

He tapped his head and looked at me knowingly.

I said, “Yes, absolutely.”

Maverick grinned and said, “Then, now is the time for the glamour…”

Maverick snapped his fingers and the room almost went dark, except for the fact that every surface was covered with lit candles. The room smelled strongly of flowers and my bed was covered in rose petals. The room itself suddenly had a soft floor made out of earth instead of stone, and the bed posts looked as though it they were carved out of the roots of a tree. Even though I could still see the line of the ceiling, the ceiling itself seemed to be covered in stars.

I stammered, “Maverick, are you a Magus?”

Maverick shook his head, “No, but like I said, I can do a little bit of fairy magic from living in Arcadia for so long, mostly just shape-shifting and simple illusions like this one. I was only able to contact you with my mind before because I forged a connection to you through your blood.”

I asked, “Do you think you’ll lose those abilities if you decide to live with me?”

Maverick shrugged, “Probably not the shape-shifting, or being able to blend in with my surroundings. I’ve always been able to do that. But, I don’t care if I lose all of my abilities if it means I get to stay with you.”

I said, “I’ve never had anyone care enough about me to be willing to sacrifice so much for me. I don’t know if I can live up to your expectations…”

Maverick smiled and said, “Aisling, you have a face and a body that would make many men willing to make that kind of sacrifice for you, and you’ve got so much more to offer than just your looks. You have already more than exceeded my expectations.”

I blushed and muttered, “Not yet.”

Maverick grinned and said, “I’m not at all worried about that.”

I said, “I know I said I was ready, but I am a little nervous. What if I…”

Maverick put a finger to my lips and then smiled. He ran his hands through my hair and kissed me. I suddenly forgot what I was even worried about. Maverick took my hands and led me towards the bed. He gently picked me up and laid me down and ran his hands and lips along my body. It’s hard to describe, but he made me feel like it actually was my first time. Somehow, I even felt naïve again. He treated me so delicately, as though if he even rubbed me the wrong way I would break. He was considerate, kind, and very gentle.

Even though the illusion on my room wasn’t perfect, I imagined that we were making love under the stars. I felt as though I was free from Dugald for the entire evening. Dugald didn’t even cross my mind. The only thing I could think of was Maverick and waves of pleasure coursing through me. It was exactly what I needed. He let me be in control, and he made me feel as though pleasing me was all he ever wanted. I had never felt anything as wonderful as what I experienced that night. When we were finished, I fell asleep in Maverick’s arms, and for once I had a night of peaceful slumber without one single bad dream. My only dreams were of the evening, and of Maverick. If only the Magi had allowed me relive that memory over and over again…