Blood, sweat, and urine pooled at her feet. The black fog rolled back enough for her to perceive the world. The whites of her amber eyes glowed a faint red, reminiscent of the incredible magic she unleashed before, a torrent uncontrolled, and it nearly killed her.

  Her back ached. White-hot pain stabbed her neck as she lifted her head off her chest. Bound to a chair, ropes held her prisoner, and the cold metal seared her naked flesh. Eyes opening wider, she noted the dried blood on her breasts, trailing down to her belly, rivulets on her legs and feet. Her body glistened with sweat. A foul odor wafted through the stale, dirty air. She fought the urge to gag.

  For a moment, panic flooded her, and her breathing became erratic. She swore the voice of her one-time torturer, Mr. Pleasure, and his haunting laughter filled her ears, but the room remained devoid of the fat, bald man. Relief suffused her soul.

  The skin bled where bindings held her to the metallic prison, the flesh raw. Slowly, painfully, she lifted her head level, her honeyed hair cascading into her face, a veil obscuring her vision. With mild movements, she shook the hair out of her face, sending blades of agony through her neck muscles. A whimper escaped cracked lips.

  Where am I? What happened?

  Images raced through her mind in a chaotic burst. Facial hair, gray, red, and black, crooked teeth with dirty smiles leered through the obscurity. Pain lanced through her body as memories came back. No details bled through the flashes, but she knew her captors had numbered three. Her throat burned, scratched like dry sandpaper. The sensation of cotton filled her mouth. An ache permeated her cold feet from her urine. She inched her head to the side before she emptied her stomach on the earthen floor. Aching with fatigue, her body shivered.

  How long have I been here?

  A ringing silence filled her ears; the buzzing rose to an intolerable level. The stillness accentuated the droning with each heartbeat. She eyed her surroundings. Shambled walls of stone and mortar greeted her. Animal traps hung on rusted iron hooks; skinning knives lay on tables of shoddy craftsmanship. Dried blood caked the blades. Rotted wood slats passed for a roof, dilapidated more than the foundations around her. A dirt floor completed the hovel.

  A hunter’s cabin?

  Her face ached, even her teeth. She ran her swollen tongue over each tooth to make sure all were accounted for. A chill swept through her as she wrestled with the bindings. Her skin bled anew. Whoever her captors were, they tied her up and left. Would they be back or had they forsaken her to die alone? Reality tugged at her stomach, and her bowels threatened to release.

  She scanned the room again for anything she might’ve missed. The contents of her backpack lay strung out, the coin purse empty. All the money from the exchanged ingot in Korlin’s Cove, taken. Her robes, the ones from Judas’s manor, were strung about, no doubt searched. The garments she’d been wearing lay in tatters on a wood table next to the skinning knives. Her eyes swept to the farthest end of the room where she saw wood contraptions. One was a table with leather straps at the corners. Another looked like a short table with a very low bench, both adorned with leather straps. Chains and animal hides hung from a cross beam in the roof. A wooden X sat against the wall, both sides bisected by a girder running down the middle. Each end of the X also had bindings.

  What the Shades of the Underworld are those for?

  Again, out of sheer rebellion, she tugged against the bindings, but they remained unyielding. Hopelessness sank in as her addled mind scrambled to think of a way to free herself. Desperation turned to despair as the faces of all the people she’d never see again flashed through her mind: Lily and Kam, Meristal and Judas, Rusem, Fife … Even her short-lived familiar, Ava.

  Ava! her mind screamed. Happiness ripped the desolation away. Starriace was their Head of Creatures; her familiar, Ava, had to come when called.

  Ava! she called again. Ava! Ava! AVA!

  “Once is enough, Mistress,” the small creature replied as she materialized before her. Her chiming-bell voice was a sweet melody in the terrible silence. “By the gods, what happened?” she gasped. The fairy fluttered up into Starriace’s line of sight. “You look like shit.”

  “Thanks,” Starriace replied, her hoarse voice filling her ears.

  “Who did this to you? How?”

  “I don’t know, but I can’t get out.” Starriace swallowed, afraid to admit she needed help. I was weak and helpless. “I need you to free me.”

  “Have no fear, I will aid you.” Ava’s hands grew bright with white luminance, and the bindings fell away as she touched each one. Starriace tried to stand but only managed to fall out of the chair. Dirt and grime covered her naked, sweaty body. Skin bled anew. Sharp pains shot up her legs, the nerves on fire. Bone grated against bone as she landed. She cried out. Ava fluttered down beside her. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” Starriace admitted through tears. “I think my legs are broken.”

  “Can’t you heal yourself?”

  Starriace only nodded. She reached out with her essence, a lesson she learned with Fife Doole, but a void took its place. In a desperate attempt, she reached out to her surroundings the way Harold had shown her when she entered the Shadowcast but only sensed the emptiness. Even with Ava, she perceived nothing. The panic returned. She had just learned to call upon her essence, and now, it abandoned her.

  “I can’t feel my magic. It’s not there.”

  “Whoever did this to you has blocked it, but it’s only temporary. To my knowledge, no one is able to block abilities permanently. Most likely, it’s an herb or drug. You’ll have to wait until it flushes from your system.”

  An herb or drug. Starriace’s eyes went wide at Ava’s statement.

  “Ava, I need you to find someone for me. I need you to get her and bring her here. Can you do that?”

  “I can do whatever you ask, if it’s within my power.”

  “There is a woman named Lily, her husband is a blacksmith named Kam, and they live in Ralloc. I can’t remember the street name, but they live within the third tier from the castle where the council sits. Are you familiar with Ralloc?” Ava nodded. “I need you to bring Lily here. You must tell her I sent you, but say Julie asked for her, not my real name.”

  “But Julie is your real name.”

  Damn, that’s right. Ava has only ever known me as Julie—she wasn’t there when I accepted who I really am.

  “Not anymore. There’s no time to explain. You must bring her here. If she has trouble remembering, tell her that she met me at Far Point. She’ll remember then.”

  “And her husband?”

  Starriace wanted to see them both, but it was hard enough to let Lily come to her like this. Kam would only salt the wound. She shook her head. “No, not him. Not now.”

  “What if she will not come without him?”

  “Tell her my life is at stake. She’ll come. Check my pack, there is a letter with directions. Go! Hurry, before they come back.”

  “As you command, Mistress.” Ava fluttered over to the pack and rummaged through it for a few moments before she found what she needed. Unfolding the parchment, she read it before leaving in a flash.

  Starriace laid her head down as the exhaustion washed over her; shivers and hot flashes taxed her strength. She tried to stay awake, but the fatigue carried her to the reclaiming blackness. Gentle hands woke her, and Lily’s beautiful face and cascading blonde locks swam into view.

  “You came,” Starriace said, her smile as weak as her voice.

  “Of course I did, hun. What in the Shades happened to you?”

  Instead of answering, Starriace tried to stir. “I didn’t know if you’d remember me. Why is it so dark?”

  “Of course I remember you. How could I ever forget? You’re the only Julie I’ve ever met. Not a common name around these parts. And it’s night.”

  “Night? When Ava left, it was daylight.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry, Mistress. The Corridor … there is an army of goblins and trolls there. Did you know?”

  Starriace shook her head.

  “We need to get her out of here and cleaned up,” Lily said. She turned to Ava. “Do you think you can take us to Far Point?”

  “Yes,” Ava nodded. “I have enough to take both of you, but it’ll tax me. I’ll need to rest afterward.”

  “I have no money,” Starriace croaked. “They robbed me.”

  “I am sure they took more than your money, sweetheart,” Lily said, her voice laced with sympathy. Starriace wasn’t sure whether she welcomed or hated the sound. Lily nodded to Ava, who reached out to touch them both. In a flash, they were gone from the small hovel and reappeared in the center of the street in Far Point. Lily scooped Starriace’s naked body off the ground and carried her a few dozen strides to a familiar inn. On her last visit, Starriace, Lily, and Kam had stayed here.

  Traveler’s Haven remained unchanged from the brief view Starriace managed to snatch, a difficult task though the haze of agony and threatening darkness. She heard indistinct raised voices, one belonging to Lily who spoke with urgency. Strong hands lifted her and carried her upstairs. The hall seemed as dark as the memories she held dear, and both fostered secrets they’d keep forever. A door opened, and after a few steps, someone gently placed her on the floor. Footsteps retreated, and the blackness took her again.

  When she awoke, darkness still lingered outside, but warmth embraced her. She found herself laying in a tub of warm water with Lily washing her with gentle strokes, inspecting wounds and chafed skin. A soft cloth caressed her face.

  “What—?”

  “Shh, don’t talk. Conserve your strength,” Lily soothed. “You’ve been unconscious for a while now. Sorry, I took the liberty of bathing you. The innkeeper was kind enough to lift you into the tub. I think your legs are broken.”

  “They are.”

  “Here, drink this.” Lily pushed a warm mug into Starriace’s hands. She drank greedily. “Easy hun, not so much.” The heated liquid spread through her body. Her woes eased, but her body still throbbed. The contents of the cup made her sleepy.

  “Where have you been, Julie? What happened to you?”

  “That’s not my name,” she breathed. Her eyelids grew heavy.

  “What?”

  “That’s not my name … not my—”

  When she awoke again, a dark sky filled her window, but she found herself dressed in sleeping attire. Blankets drew up tight around her. Fever wracked her body. Lily slumped in a chair beside her. The feather mattress and soft, linen sheets seemed like bliss after her ordeal. A blanket of heavy wool and a large fur pelt lay on top. Starriace stirred, and Lily snapped awake.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  “Don’t move,” she ordered. She rushed to keep her still.

  “It’s still dark?”

  “Hun, you slept for two days. Whatever drugs or herbs they used, they used a lot. It might be Oblivion. Kam shook with fever for days when he quit using that damn drug. Your shakes reminded me of his recovery.”

  Starriace smiled at the good news. “He quit using?”

  Lily returned her smile. “Yes, he did. After we met you, he quit. I think you were the catalyst. It’s hard to break the addiction. I think your body is going through withdraws.”

  “I can’t feel my essence.”

  “Most days I can’t either, but I don’t possess exceptional gifts.”

  “I do,” Starriace declared, the fever making her voice tremulous. “I’ve done things, seen things … I can heal myself.”

  “Perhaps, but you won’t be able to do it until the Oblivion is out of your system. I’ve prayed to the One that you aren’t pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?”

  “Shh, hun, don’t worry about it now. We can talk later.”

  Anger smoldered in her gut like the coals of an iron stove, giving her strength. “We can talk now. What do you mean? Who is the One?”

  Lily sighed. “The One is the god of my religion. I’m not much for religion, but when the situation is dire, I renew my faith. I prayed for you. What I mean by you being pregnant …” Lily’s eyes misted, “… while I tended your wounds, I discovered that you had …”

  “What?” Starriace snapped.

  “You showed signs of someone forcing themselves on you.”

  “How’d you come to that conclusion?”

  The other took a deep breath. “When I worked for Lord Brenton, some clients liked blonde women, some liked brunettes. Some men liked certain aspects of particular girls. Some tied them up and dominated them. A select, rich few, had darker desires. I’ve been on the receiving end of that scenario more than once, as have some of the other girls. I know they violated you because you carry the same markings.”

  Starriace fell silent for a moment. The shock twisted into a bright flash of anger and resentment Damn it! Now, I feel terrible for snapping at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. As the temper fled, the energy drained from her body, and she shivered.

  “Here, drink,” Lily said, pushing a mug into her hands. “I’ll get you some food.”

  Lily left, heading downstairs as Starriace sipped the mug. The liquid was cold, but it still warmed her insides like before. The pain retreated, and her shaking subsided. Lily returned shortly with a plate of food.

  “Sorry, it’s not much.” Lily handed her a plate of hardened toast, a porridge of oats, and three strips of bacon.

  “Thank you.” Starriace moved into a sitting position.

  “Scoot over,” Lily shooed and climbed into the bed. She sat vigil while the mage ate, happy her friend became more lively than a corpse. Strength returned as she ate. Her stomach lanced with hunger pangs and she shoveled her food faster.

  “What did you mean by ‘that’s not my name?’”

  “Huh?”

  “The other day, I called you Julie, and you said it wasn’t your name.”

  “Oh.” Starriace swallowed. “It’s a long story.”

  “We’ve got time.”

  Starriace conveyed the tale, starting after they parted ways. She continued with the run in with the nine elyves and Ava. She recounted the temple inside the City of Despair and time with Fife, but omitted his name. Recalling the sheol that attacked her after she left Fife’s brought a shudder from Lily. Starriace concluded her story with omissions of Rusem but conveyed the battle with Xilor. The next thing she remembered was waking up in the hovel. Though true, how she got there remained a mystery.

  Lily sat back in awe. Starriace noted the disbelief in her eyes, but what she found most difficult to comprehend was her new name. When asked, Starriace elaborated.

  “I’ve been told that I’m a Wcic, that I come from the Other Side, but that’s not true. I was born here.”

  “The Other Side? As in, the world with the followers of Xilor?”

  “Yes. I don’t remember anything, though. That’s the odd part. I can’t remember the life I lived, only from when I woke up.”

  “That must be awful, to live somewhere else and never remember anything.”

  “Other than a mild curiosity, it’s not that bad. I can’t remember, so you can’t miss what you’ve never had.”

  “True enough.”

  Lily surmised the events of the war. The Krey had mobilized to Cape Gythmel along with Warlock Lakayre, but both retreated to Dlad City. Madam Meristal was now the Consul of Ralloc, and Kam joined the Grand Royal Army.

  Weariness took Starriace after spending an hour recounting her tale and listening to Lily. Both women fell asleep after, and Lily held her. When Starriace awoke the next day, her magical essence lingered on the edges of her awareness. Daring to hope, she reached out and caressed Lily with a gentle mental probe and rejoiced with the touch.

  The mage spent the rest of the day and most of the next healing herself, starting with her legs. Embarrassment controlled her actions, ashamed each time Lily carried her to the chamber pot. Mobility became the priority. After she mended and knitted her bones, she worked on her raw skin and internal bruising. By the fifth day, her physical injuries were almost gone, but she couldn’t heal the mental trauma. Though recalling only flashes, the memories came back as the drugs wore off. On the sixth day, Starriace made ready to leave. Lily came back from eating in the common room to find Starriace clothed and packed.

  “You’re leaving?” she asked, disappointed.

  “Yes.” Starriace did not elaborate; it was best if she didn’t.

  “I wish you weren’t. Why don’t you come back to Ralloc with me? You can stay with me and Kam until you are ready to do … whatever it’s you do.”

  “I’m ready now. I’d love to stay with you and Kam, but I need to do certain things.”

  Starriace closed her eyes and considered how to best tell Lily without revealing too much or hurting feelings. Once before, Lily implored Starriace to come with her, and her best friend never knew how close she came to giving in. She treasured Lily with a zeal that rivaled her cravings for knowledge, and as her only friend, Starriace couldn’t afford nor wanted to lose her. The mage opened her eyes and hugged Lily before pushing her down on the bed, seating her.

  “There’s a war going on. I missed the start, but I’m strong and should help.”

  “How strong?”

  Everyone possessed magic and used it to some degree, but most relied on their own hands and skills.

  “Exceptionally. Perhaps someday I’ll rival Warlock Lakayre. But I’m lacking, my training is incomplete, and I need to discover a better way to tap into my abilities. When I come into the full breadth of my skills, I plan to join the war and stop Xilor.”

  “You’ll die,” Lily blurted. “Don’t do this!”

  “I can’t,” she shook her head. “I can’t turn my back on people in need. People will die, are already dying. The quicker this war can end, the more people will live. You, Kam, me, everyone. If I can help stop Xilor, if I can destroy him … I have to try. I can’t explain it, it’s a compulsion. A duty.”

  Lily shook her head. “I don’t understand you. I understand what you’re saying, but why you?”

  “If not me, who else?” To this, Lily said nothing. Starriace reached down and kissed Lily on the forehead. “I care for you. You’re my dearest friend. If anything were to happen to you …” Starriace wasn’t good with expressing feelings. “You and Kam. If anything happened to the two of you, I don’t think I’d ever stop blaming myself if I didn’t try.”

  “We love you, you know?” Lily’s eyes misted. “You’re always welcome in our home. Promise me that if you ever come to Ralloc, you’ll visit.”

  “I promise.” The young woman reached down and kissed the older on the cheek. She broke the embrace as fond memories of Kam resurfaced, and called to Ava. The familiar answered promptly. Ava stood on the bed next to Lily. “Ava, I want you to take Lily back to where you found her. And when you are done, I want you to return to the Melodic Mountains. Don’t come back to me.”

  “But I want to go with you. I’m supposed to.”

  “Where I’m going, you can’t follow. When I’m done, I’ll call you, I swear. But I have a request, Ava.”

  “What?”

  “I want you to go to Lily if she ever has dire need.”

  “You want me to answer her call? It doesn’t work that way. We only respond to the Head of Creatures, not to everyone who wants to see a fairy.”

  “Ava,” Starriace admonished her. She knelt to be eye level with the fairy. “Lily is my dearest friend, and if something were to ever happen, I’d want to help. If she were in peril, and I could save her, I would be greatly distraught if I never knew. So, will you do this for me? Lily would never call unless the need were dire.”

  “It’s not supposed to work like that,” Ava protested.

  “Do it for me, and I’ll owe you one.”

  “Owe me one?”

  “Yes, if you do this for me, later when you ask something of me, I’ll do it for you.”

  “But you are supposed to, you’re the Head of Creatures.”

  “I meant in regards to something personal.”

  “Oh.”

  “Please?”

  “Very well, if you insist, but you owe me.”

  “Yes, I owe you,” Starriace confirmed. The mage rose, and Lily stood from the bed. The two embraced, long and fierce.

  “Thank you.”

  “No thanks is required. You’d do the same for Kam or me. You’re a good person.”

  Not too good.

  Ava moved near Lily and touched her. In a flash they were gone, leaving Starriace alone. She sank to the bed, her knees weak. It was the second time Lily left, and for the second time, a hole formed in her chest. She heaved a deep breath and fought back tears of loneliness and despair. With Lily’s absence, ire swelled inside her.

  As the moments of distress went by, memories of the hovel returned in grizzly flashes. Lily’s words rang with the truth. Her captors had raped her.

  Repeatedly.

  How long was she captive? She couldn’t guess, but long enough for each man to take her a half a dozen times or more. The most painful part: she had been powerless to stop it.

  You were weak and helpless.

  She ground her teeth. An anchor of resolve formed in the pit of her stomach. She focused her anger and drew on that power, teleporting away. When she came through to the other side, the hovel filled her vision. She retraced her steps, detecting a concentration of her essence like a dog hunting unseen prey. But more than her essence, she recognized the presence of the three men.

  They defiled you!

  She ran a light hand over the makeshift tables, the chairs, the tools, traps, and knives. Though faint, she sensed them, like a scent lacking strength from the passage of time. With trepidation, she inched toward the contraptions on the far side of the small hovel. Touching the table with leather straps, a jarring perception hammered her. More memories flashed through her mind, leaving no doubt of what happened.

  Here, on this table, they had tied her down and ravaged her. With a quick jerk, she snatched her hand away as if shocked by lightning. She glimpsed flashes of their faces, moments and emotions, but thankfully, she didn’t recall the physical feelings of the hell they put her through. Perhaps it was the drugs that blocked it out? There was a difference between knowing it happened and having to relive it. She had something to be grateful for.

  The hanging chains and leather called to her, and she caressed them. Memories crashed into her; two of them took her together. Hand withdrawn, the simmering resentment turned to rage. Her eyes burned and glowed scarlet. She touched the small bench and table structure.

  She removed her hand from the appliance, her instrument of torture. Her rage boiled, and she lost control. With a gust of conjury, she shattered the small contraption. She turned to the table and flung it across the hovel, sending it crashing into the wall. In fury, she rounded on the chains, and they glowed red with heat until they melted and seared the leather.

  In moments, the hovel made of rotted wood was engulfed. The roof groaned and collapsed on top of her, but the strength of her anger channeled her mageshield, and held the flaming debris at bay. Destroying the hellhole empowered her, but it wasn’t enough.

  What those men did to you, they will do to someone else.

  She understood the logic. Enough of their essence lingered for a trace. She sensed them to the north, just past Far Point.

  Damn it! I was just there! She wondered how they managed to get so far just by walking or horseback, but she did spend several days in Lily’s tender care. They had left her for dead.

  Drawing on her power, she teleported south of their position, close enough to walk but not be detected. The distance also ensured she wouldn’t reveal her arrival. Without knowing for sure if they had magical abilities, she erred on the side of caution.

  Praema touched the south horizon with Apor already well below. The darkness deepened and soon her glowing eyes would shine like beacons. With quiet care, she foraged through the foliage, bypassing branches where she could. She drew up to a broad cedar tree and peeked around. When she saw the men, the rage blackened her vision for a few precious seconds. Her eyes festered and burned, itched like sand scratching the whites of her eyes. Her chest constricted, her teeth ground, and her hand yearned for her wand.

  Rounding the tree, she marched for them, her footsteps sure, a storm of energy and malice building in her wake. The men launched to their feet. One drew an arrow and let it fly. Starriace batted it away with a wave of her wand. While he knocked another, one man drew a sword and rushed her. With deft surety, she switched targets; with clarity of mind, focus encouraged by hate, she melted the sword. The liquid steel fell from the hilt like a puddle of mercury.

  By this time, the archer loosed another arrow. A barrier flared between them and the projectile shattered apart. The third man attempted to sneak up behind her, circling wide. She pivoted, slamming an invisible fist into his chest, and he doubled over.

  The swordless man almost took her by surprise. She spun from his grasp and lashed out in fury. Her sweeping arm sent a surge of power that tore his head free. The archer, having knocked a third arrow, let it fly. Splayed fingers stopped the projectile in mid-flight; it quivered mere inches from her face. She peered at the shaft of wood as if she had never seen one before. Then it faded into a mist of granules, breaking down to the molecular level. The archer dove for another arrow. The man she knocked down sprang to his feet and charged. A stone as big as her fist caught her eye, laying beyond the man. Power flared, the stone hurtled towards the man’s back, exploding through his chest. A massive cavity of red pulp remained.

  Starriace turned to the sole survivor who abandoned his bow, knowing the futility.

  “Sit!” she commanded, her voice quivering with rage. The turbulence of emotions and magic tore through her like a torrent. Her eyes glittered a malevolent red. She stalked toward him, a predator closing on a wounded prey.

  “I believe you owe me something.”