IN THE CROWDED hold of the ship, Alimar smirked as he regarded the pen that held Doom and Tiwaz. The girl was unconscious and deathly pale, held in Doom’s protective arms while the green-skinned boy growled in warning. “Your concerns she might be eaten or savaged were pointless, my apprentice,” he commented in droll tones to Gilhadnar. “It appears the gromek is protective of his pen companion. How quaint.”

Gilhadnar humphed, crossing his arms. “Perhaps protective, but inept. I can tell from here she’s on death’s threshold.”

Alimar waved off his concern. “She is stronger than you think. Much more malleable. It is why I wanted a child. The adults of her kind always died once I enslaved them. Even capturing their souls failed to entertain me. I will not allow this one to escape me in death.” He snapped his fingers, turning away. “Bring her to the apothecary.”

The apprentice leaned in and grabbed the girl by the arm to drag her out. When Tiwaz’s head dropped on the ground, Doom raked his claw-like nails from the man’s shoulder to elbow. The apprentice howled in pain, releasing her. Pulling his wand, he glared at the boy. “Why you stupid—!” He fumbled the wand he raised to cast a spell when Alimar backhanded him so hard he fell against the pen’s wall.

“Have you no wits about you that you would cause more head trauma dragging her about like a child’s doll? They are my pets and you will suffer any harm done to them by your hand thrice-fold,” Alimar stated coldly. He gestured in dismissal. “Go have the ship’s healer tend to your injuries, Gilhadnar. I will not waste potions on your stupidity.” The bleeding man fled, casting a dark look on the caged children.

Alimar narrowed his eyes on the gromek. “If you are so keen to tend to her wounds, I assure you, you will have plenty more opportunity in the future. Until then, do not interfere. I want her dead as little as you do.” Doom said nothing, did not move an inch, as Alimar entered the pen just far enough to pick up Tiwaz.

The sorcerer secured the pen door with a few words. Doom lunged against it, pressing himself against the bars as he desperately tried to keep the girl in sight. He howled in fury, shaking the bars when the apothecary door shut.

ONCE HE LAID the unconscious girl on the table that dominated the room, Alimar waved his hands; ropes snaked up like living things and wrapped themselves around her elbows and ankles. He took a small bottle from a locked cabinet, returning to the table. Putting his hand beneath her head, he poured the thick, red liquid down her throat. A moment later, she awoke, hacking and struggling wildly against her bonds.

“Be still!” he commanded. He smirked at the hateful look that flashed in the depths of her vivid green eyes. “You should be grateful I consider you valuable. I do not often bother healing my slaves. Healing elixirs such as this are uncomfortable if they enter the lungs. However, it cannot kill you even if I held your head under a barrel of it. It would keep you alive even while you are drowning in it. The experience is very traumatizing, I assure you.” He added over his shoulder as he put the bottle in a different cabinet, “Unless you wish to experience it for yourself, I suggest you behave and obey me.”

He returned to lean against the table with a facetious nonchalance, his cold eyes raking over her nearly nude body. “Yes, you will be perfect for what I need.” He laughed coldly when her eyes went wide. She desperately struggled against her bonds, contorting her body away from him. “Relax, I have no need to prove my power over you sexually, girl. Children are too easily dominated for such crude methods. Besides, I have other slaves for that purpose.” He turned to hitch his hip on the edge of the table, crossing his arms. Watching him with distrust and wariness, she stopped struggling, her eyes never leaving his.

The sorcerer reached out to caress her cheek, smirking when she tried to bite his hand, giving him a baleful glare. “Such a brazen spirit! You attacked me when I punished the gromek for his audacity in lashing out at me, and knowing what I can do to you, you attempt to attack me still.” He patted her cheek condescendingly, avoiding her teeth again. “Excellent. You will serve me well.”

“No one owns me!” she snarled.

“Ah, you can still speak. So, you are not completely addled from your injuries. Perfect. While it pleases me to have two unusual specimens as you and the gromek, I cannot allow you to remain unshackled.” He continued speaking as he drew out several implements. “Do you know much about magic, girl?” She remained silent, watching him unwaveringly. “There are many different flavors of magic. Different resonances. Different means of implementation.

“Runic magic is cast through writing. Symbols that, done correctly, imbue the object they are a part of with what their symbols intend. Runes are most common as they behave as individual symbols or letters to be strung together. Like an alphabet…” He laughed at himself. “Of course, you are illiterate. You have no understanding of civilized things such as reading and writing.”

The girl bristled at his accusation of ignorance. “I know pictures can have power,” she stated.

Alimar seemed amused. “Yes. They can. Of all the various runic symbols discovered over the centuries, glyphs are the most potent. In a single, elegant design, they are able to channel considerable energy for their purpose. They are permanent, usually used as wards and protections when they are etched into weapons, armor, lintels of homes.” He drew a thin knife, the light glinting off its razor sharp edge. “The conclave that establishes the ethics and rules of magic says they are never to be placed on a living being. Even those who practice the darker aspects of the arts obey that rule.” He met her eyes briefly. “I never listened to those prattling idiots.”

OUT IN THE hold, Doom jumped up from the dark corner of his pen when he heard Tiwaz’s shrieks. The bars bent in his desperation to get to her, but held. Eventually, her shrieks went silent. The dark sorcerer emerged a considerable amount of time later, the girl’s body lying limp in his arms. Torn between attacking Alimar and grabbing her, Doom snatched the girl and dragged her to the back of their pen, hovering over her protectively.

The sorcerer ignored Doom. He shut the pen, then fixed hard, dark eyes on the gromek. “Remember this, Gromek. She will suffer for any of your disobedience. As much as you will suffer for hers.”

“Tiwaz will be my vengeance. I will be your doom,” he growled. “I promise you.”

The man smirked. “My doom? Arrogant child. Don’t make promises you cannot keep. But that suits you for a name. A reminder of your shame and the futility of defiance. ‘Doom.’” Unknowingly giving the gromek the moniker he had chosen for himself, Alimar’s mocking laughter filled the hold as he headed back to the upper deck.

Doom bared his teeth, growling deep in his chest. Once the sorcerer was gone, he turned his attention to Tiwaz. He patted her cheeks with care, trying to wake her while avoiding scratching her with his nails. He looked at her arms while examining her for injuries. Seamless metal shackles encased her wrists, gleaming golden but harder than the iron bars. Blood streaked her arms, oozing from beneath them.

“Tiwaz,” he said with urgency when her eyes finally opened. Weakly, she pushed herself up, her back to the gromek, ignoring his repeated calls. As she held her hands up, looking at the golden shackles, he asked, “Tiwaz, what did he do to you?” Her answer was a wordless scream filled with burning anger and fathomless grief. Doom grabbed her and pulled her close, holding her as she sobbed inconsolably.