7

For all the pain these people caused her with that tear machine, they wanted to make sure she was okay. Instead of being miserable in her cell she was miserable in that same room where the boy applied medicine to her wounds. Only now it was some unknown woman hovering over her. Fingers gripped into her jaw, making Sabi wince, and she tried to pull away, but the woman held firm.

“She heals fine,” the woman said, her eyes glancing over Sabi’s head to the guard at the door.

It took two weeks for her face not to hurt when she blinked and Anya gave her daily updates on what color her bruises were turning. They were down to a sickly yellow-green now. The man behind her grunted in acknowledgement as he wrapped his meaty fingers around Sabi’s arm. He jerked her off the exam chair and Sabi’s leg bent uncomfortably underneath her as it tried to catch her weight. A sharp zing pierced her knee and Sabi gasped.

As she limped back to her cell, half-dragged by the glow-eyed guard in front of her, the boy stepped out of a room. The pet, as Anya called him.

He stared at her as she got closer, an emotionless look that rivaled a department store mannequin. It wasn’t that difficult to fake, what with her knee throbbing, so Sabi stumbled and swung herself away from the guard. Fingers dug harder into her arm, but she swallowed the pain.

Only the fabric of their mismatched clothing brushed as Sabi passed by, and she held his gaze all the way. With a subtle nod, one she hoped wasn’t too subtle, she motioned toward the cells. Hopefully she knew that’s where she was being dragged. It was away from the exam room, away from the tear machine. Where else would she be going?

She needed to talk to him. They had South Fair in common. Maybe that meant something. Maybe it didn’t, but from what Sabi’d gathered they were the only two South Fair Criers in the castle. If nothing else she needed to know about where she was born. About her dreams. What it all meant. Hopefully he’d stop by.

The lighter she got from the crap food they fed her, the easier she was to be tossed into the cell. Mumbled words got lost on squealing door hinges as it was locked behind her. Some of what the guard said she could understand while the rest was a smear of words. Sometimes she understood people and sometimes she didn’t. She couldn’t pick up on when her brain understood and what made her hear voices like being in a foreign land.

Sabi dropped onto her bed and looked over to Anya whose eyes were boring into her, unblinking. She shifted under Anya’s uncomfortable glared and silently wished the girl would stop staring.

“Do you know,” Sabi asked, tapping the side of her head, wanting to break the uneasy silence, “why I can understand some people and not others?”

“Like me?” Anya asked before saying something Sabi couldn’t understand. Anya smiled. “Maybe not always?”

Sabi looked to her knees. Gray and cracked skin itched. The scratchy tunic she wore barely covered them, but she pulled it down anyway.

“I know two languages and none of them are from this place, but I know people aren’t speaking English. So how do I know what they’re saying?”

Anya’s head wobbled as she moved to the edge of her bed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

“South Fair’s a port. Lot of people going in and out from all over the world. It’s part of that magic,” Anya said as she twirled her finger in front of her. Sabi frowned, not knowing what Anya was talking about, until the pointing clicked. The stamp. Cabal’s stamp that she didn’t have.

Sabi lifted her hand to the back of her head and felt around her scalp. No scars, no weird bumps or ridges. Nothing. She couldn’t feel anything, not like tattoos were raised. But she was only two when her parents ran. Surely they didn’t tattoo a toddler.

“I don’t have that stamp thing,” Sabi said. “It has to be something else.”

Anya shook her head, a wicked smile creeping across her face. “It’s there. In your blood.” She leaned off the bed and dropped to her knees as she crawled over to Sabi, keeping hold of Sabi’s eyes with hers. The stiff, jerky movements were something out of a horror movie. Scraggly blonde hair caked in a film of dirt was gray and hung in clumps around her face. The tunic hung in tatters and her skin was splotched with grime.

Anya got to Sabi’s bed and slapped a hand down on either side of her to push herself up. A jittering finger lifted up and Anya jabbed it into Sabi’s chest. Sabi winced and placed her hand over the afterimage of hurt. She seemed to be bruising more and more easily lately.

“It’s in here. You have to find it.”

“You’re saying I have magic just hiding out in me? Because of where I was born?”

Anya’s scratchy palm slapped Sabi’s forehead, sending the back of Sabi’s head bouncing off the wall behind her. Teeth ground into her lips as Sabi bit back not only the pain but the urge to shove Anya away. Send her flying to the other side of their small cell. Not only did she not want to get dragged away again to that awful machine, but she was trying to be patient. It didn’t seem like Anya’d been around many people for a while and Sabi wanted to understand that. Except that well was starting to dry up.

“Yes!” Anya’s voice was little more than a harsh whisper. “South Fair rarely gets gifts because of their magic. Yet now we have you and little pet with us Diamond Criers. Lucky us.”

Sabi narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t know anything about any of this. I didn’t get to choose where I was born or what my parents did when I was too young to remember. I’m sure he didn’t choose that stamp on the back of his head any more than you chose to cry diamonds. So cut it out.”

The well of understanding was little more than a puddle. She appreciated the information Anya gave her, but she was sick of her snide remarks. Worry still squirmed in her chest, though, as Sabi grew a little more afraid that Anya was going to turn off.

Instead the girl leered, a smile like a worm flicking its tail around weaving across her face.

“Fine,” Anya said.

Sabi swallowed the lump of panic growing in her throat. Anya obviously wasn’t shutting down on her. Neither would Sabi.

She took a deep breath and said, “Why’s he treated differently? Jeviar knows I’m from South Fair. If that’s all it takes then why am I here?”

Anya sat back on her heels and shrugged, but before she could say anything keys jangled in the lock and Anya scuttled back to her bed.

Dark skin was made darker by the shadows in the cell as Cabal walked in with two trays. Anya hissed at him as he got close to her bed, but he just cleared this throat and nearly dropped the tray next to her. The bread rolled over the edge and dropped to the floor, but Anya scooped it up and began gnawing on it anyway.

Cabal held the tray out for Sabi to take, but she kept her arms down at her sides as she looked up at him. He held it out a couple moments longer before taking a few steps forward and placing it gently next to her.

In a swift movement worthy of Anya’s erratic behavior, Sabi grabbed onto his wrist, skin smooth under her dry, cracked hands, and jerked him toward her. His eyes widened before his face softened and the same stoicism she always saw on him settled in.

“You’re South Fair,” she whispered. Her eyes darted to the open door, a shuffling sound coming up the corridor. Sweat slicked her palm. “Do I have that magic? Can you help me with it?”

With a light tug his wrist slid out of her grip, the look on his face never changing. Cabal’s eyes lingered on Sabi’s upturned face for a moment before he turned and, without a word, left the cell, the door screeching behind him as it closed.

Tears welled up in her eyes and her chin quivered. She wiped her palms on her crusted tunic to get the feel of him off her skin. Anya was right. He was a little pet. Anya mumbled the same over a mouthful of chewed food. Who knew what he would do now. Tell Jeviar, probably. Her stomach growled with hunger, but Sabi couldn’t imagine eating anything.

Maybe she could teach herself. Except she had no idea where to begin. Anya wasn’t from South Fair and couldn’t help her. The key to her freedom was locked inside her and she didn’t see a way of getting it out.

She wrapped her fingers around the bar at the edge of the bed, squeezing with all her might. Knuckles blanched under the pressure, and metal cut into her palm. Tears streamed down her cheeks, dropping onto the blanket and getting carried away to wherever Jeviar demanded they go.

Her arm jerked and Sabi lurched forward, breath rushing out of her lungs. She peeled her hand off the bed and gaped at what was left behind. Impressions the size of her fingers sank into the metal and the bar bent just enough to cause a small dip in the bed. What did she just do?

A clatter on the other side of the room drew Sabi’s attention and she looked to see Anya hurrying over. She kneeled at Sabi’s feet, her fingers prodding the damage Sabi’s hand had done.

Anya slowly looked up, eyes shining, tears having nothing to do with it. Her lips pulled back to reveal too many teeth. “Maybe you don’t need the little pet after all.”

Sabi looked back down at the mangled bed and her heart raced.