Alysana
Alysana awoke before everyone else, more out of habit and less out of obligation.
During her sentry training in Annoch, she had always been up earlier than the others because she liked to have the advantage. It gave her a head start on the day, and she found that it presented a psychological edge as well: everyone else would struggle to catch up to her, and it made them see her as the one who was always looking back at them. That suited her just fine. She was willing to work extra hard to make sure she got what she wanted.
She still had to find her way to the magistrate in order to get the necessary paperwork for the slave auction, but that was not what was on her mind at present. Instead, she was thinking about how close Thornton had come to leaving them. She had always thought of him as trustworthy and loyal before this. Now, she wasn’t sure how to think of him. As she slipped through the door and closed it gently behind her, she shook her head to rid it of the thoughts. One day at a time, she told herself.
***
Théas was covered with a thin morning fog that poured into the streets, wrapping up the buildings and people in its pale embrace. It was not so thick as to conceal everything around it, but for someone like Alysana who was not familiar with the city, it may as well have been. She ended up relying on the directions of several Théans despite not having far to go. Finally, after more walking than it should have taken, the building she was looking for was within view.
There were only a few hours left before the auction started, and she would have to hurry if she had any hope of bidding on the Farstepper that would supposedly be making an appearance. And, in order to participate in the auction, she had to bring something to the table as well. She didn’t like doing it, but it was necessary. Shoving Dailus inside, she hoped that things would work themselves out. She had not discussed it with anyone else, but as far as she saw things, Dailus was hers to bargain away as she deemed necessary—and this was necessary. He was their best and only bargaining chip. If everything went as planned, she would simply buy him back at the end of the auction.
The doorman downstairs had instructed her to go up to see the magistrate. When she opened the door to his office, he was standing with his back to her. When he turned to greet her, the blood froze in her veins.
It had been nearly fifteen years, but Alysana would never forget that face; it was etched into her memory along with its cold, calculating eyes and the chill of deceit.
She knew this man.
“A fellow G’henni!” he said with enthusiasm. “I am always pleased to see my people on the right end of this business.” He made a quick and graceful bow. “I am the magistrate, as you no doubt have gathered. Your humble servant, Ghaja Rus.”
Hearing the name again made Alysana’s blood boil. She knew she should say something, but no words would form on her tongue. The most she could do was nod, as the rest of her strength went toward keeping her composure—and resisting the temptation to leap across the room and slit his throat.
“A quiet one,” Rus added after the prolonged silence. “A rare trait among our people, but one that is not without its merits. Come,” he said, waving her in. “Let me see what you’ve brought.”
Here, Alysana at least had the presence of mind to push Dailus forward. The half-eye’s hands were still bound in order to incapacitate his Shaping, and there was a gag in his mouth. To prevent him from saying something that would jeopardize the operation, Alysana had him drugged on top of all that, making the Athrani sway more than willow branches in the breeze.
Ghaja Rus approached Dailus and circled him, looking him up and down the way a winemaker would look at a vine of grapes. He made a few grunts of approval, as well as a few “hmm”s of curiosity. He picked up Dailus’s arm and let it drop to his side. He measured the thickness of his legs. He pushed him to test his balance, which almost ended poorly. Finally, he stared into his eyes.
“I have to admit,” Rus said after a long while, “we do not get many Athrani, and the ones that we do get do not fetch a very high price. They tend to shy away from labor, and often the risk of flight is too high for the investment.” He felt Dailus’s arm again. Turning to Alysana, he said, “But this one looks like no stranger to a day’s work. I suppose we can work something out. How does fifteen coppers sound?”
“Twenty,” Alysana countered automatically.
“Silent but for when it matters,” Ghaja Rus said with a smile. “Very well, twenty coppers. My man downstairs will give you what you are owed.” He went over to an oaken desk in the corner of the room and pulled out a piece of parchment. On it he scrawled the sale price; then he dripped a bit of red wax onto the paper, pressing his seal into it to make it official. “This will get you your payment and grant you entrance to the auction,” he said as he walked back. “Do not lose it. I am not fond of making more work for myself.”
Alysana nodded curtly and took the piece of paper, turning to leave.
“I do have one question,” Rus said before she could leave.
Alysana froze in her tracks, not wanting to take her eyes off the door that would take her outside and away from this wretched excuse for a man. She felt him coming closer, could hear his breathing as he approached—like listening to a wolf stalking a deer in the forest.
The brief thought that Rus had recognized her flickered through her mind. Without her consciously making it do so, Alysana’s right hand began to creep toward her dagger. She could feel her fingers on the hilt. Rus was close enough now that a quick, fluid movement would have been enough to plunge the blade into his neck, erasing decades of torment in a single, bloody act of revenge.
One swift move. That’s all it would take . . .
“It is rare that I see such a pretty face around here. Especially one that reminds me of my home in G’hen.” He had snaked his way in front of Alysana and now stood between her and escape. With a bow, slow and refined, he extended his hand to her. “Will I see your face again? Apart from the auction, of course.”
Her hand relaxed, moving subtly off of the dagger and into his open, waiting palm. She nodded, and felt his fingers wrap around her like a constrictor feeling out its prey. Cringing, she closed her eyes as she felt his lips touch the back of her hand.
“In that case, it was a pleasure doing business with you, O silent stranger. I hope it will be the first of many pleasures,” Rus said in a sensual whisper, letting her hand drop to her side.
Alysana, deciding that the silent approach was working so far, did not offer a response. She was also afraid that the bile creeping up her throat might give away her revulsion by loosing itself over Rus’s finely finished floor. Instead, she kept quiet.
With a look of mysterious indifference, she left the way she’d come in.
***
She managed to make it a whole three steps onto the streets of Théas before emptying the contents of her stomach onto the hard gray stone. Wiping her mouth, she stared up at the office of the magistrate. Opportunities like this did not just present themselves every day, but when they did, one tended to do everything possible to take advantage.
Suddenly Alysana felt very good about all the training that Mordha had made her go through. She smiled as she stared down at the dagger that had made its way into her life all those years ago, and knew that, finally, it would serve the purpose she had always known it would.
Waking up early has once again paid off, she thought with a wry smile.
Turning, she walked through the thickening fog, down the streets of Théas, and toward the inn. There was much to do and much to plan. It was not every day that the chance for revenge fell into her lap.