Page 12
Story: The Divine and the Cursed
Arianna’s skin crawled. But the female had also said The Demon wouldn’t return for a week. Maybe that gave her time. Determination flooded through her. He hadn’t disposed of her yet. All she needed to do was make her mark. Convince him she was a convenience to have around, instead of a nuisance.
She had time to plan if she stayed in his good graces. Prepare. She could focus on getting her body back in shape, so she’d be strong enough for the journey home.Earn his favor, plot, escape.
Arianna had access outside. She could observe the guard’s rotations and scout the best possible path to the mountains.
Something deep inside her flickered to life. The mountains were dangerous, sure, but she didn’t need to venture inside them to escape. No one traveled too close to their base for fear of the Dark Fae, but with the Fairy Folk aiding her, Arianna knew she could make it.
She could do this. She could go home.
WITH MORNING, Arianna ran to the mess hall, stepping out of the path of warriors just as the female had done. Some eyed her, but just like yesterday, most ignored her entirely. She ate, relishing in the plain, warm gruel, then trotted back to the cabin.
She started by stripping the bed and pulled all the clothes from their drawers, plopping them in a basket she’d taken from the wash area. Arianna hauled the load back, only getting turned around once, and plopped the heavy container onto the drenched grass.
She crinkled her nose at the dirty water. The Demon’s linens didn’t reek of unknown scents and if she washed them here, they’d smell like every other foul male in the camp. Arianna chewed her lip, but before she could fret too much, the female from yesterday rested a hand on her shoulder.
“Use a clean one for his stuff. He gets angry otherwise.” She pointed to a basin at the end of the line and Arianna hauled her load toward it, happy to find clear water within.
“I didn’t catch your name yesterday,” Arianna said before the female could walk away.
“Because I didn’t give it.” Arianna snapped her mouth shut but the female’s gaze softened. “It’s Zylah. Names stop meaning much when the faces to them disappear so often.”
“I’m Arianna.”
She gave her a faint nod before stalking off. Arianna rolled up her sleeves and went to work. She scrubbed and scrubbed until the sheets were spotless and hauled them back to the Demon’s cabin, hanging the damp material in various places to dry. She’d taken a hard brush from the supply house along with a small cup of soap and spent the rest of the evening going over the floor again, digging into the dirt between the boards.
Arianna dusted, washed herself in a bucket, and even discovered a hidden spare blanket she was certain The Demon wouldn’t miss.
With everything tidy, she stood in the center of the small room, took a deep breath and dropped into a stance. Memories surfaced and retracted like the ocean. She eased through the movements Talon had taught her, movements she’d studied with him for years. She imagined herself at the base of the waterfalls back home, cool mist spraying on her face. The fresh scent drifting through the air. Arianna lifted her arms and let them flow back down then shifted her weight from one leg to another. Her muscles strained, and soon sweat rolled down her back, but the memories restored something in her she thought lost upon entering this camp.
Hope.
Arianna jolted when Zylah plopped down beside her the following morning at breakfast. “He’s returning tonight. I overheard the guards.”
“Oh.” Arianna thought she’d be ready for it. She’d certainly prepared enough. The cabin was spotless, but what if he grew angry because she’d gotten in his drawers? What if he wanted to keep the dirt on the floor for his personal use? What if she’d misplaced something—Zylah placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a weak smile. “Go to the storehouse. Request enough for a hearty stew and get it over a fire. With any luck he’ll be happy to have a warm meal.”
Arianna swirled the remaining contents in her bowl, her stomach suddenly queasy. “Does he have a name, or does everyone just call him The Demon?”
“You have a thing with names?”
“Not really, I just—”
“Rion,” Zylah whispered. A few slaves around them paused to stare. “No one calls him that. We don’t know if it’s because they’re afraid to or if he’s specifically instructed them otherwise.”
“How do you know it?”
“The same way a slave learns anything. We listen.”
ARIANNA STIRRED the stew and tried to keep herself calm. Any moment now, The Demon would come bursting through the door. She’d done as Zylah instructed and the slaves responsible for handing out rations gave her a hunk of meat and a tray full of potatoes, carrots, and other vegetables without question. She’d found a kettle in a lower cabinet and braved using the herbs stored above the sink.
Rion.
So normal. A strong name, yes, but somehow she’d been expecting something more…sinister.
Arianna wondered if Zylah would escape with her. She’d be welcome in Móirín, as all half-breeds were, and the female could go back to living a relatively normal life. She’d have people who understood her situation, other half-breeds she could talk to if she wished.
But the way Zylah watched over the slaves told Arianna she wouldn’t leave them behind.
Rain started outside, the breeze blowing the misty scent through the cracks in the cabin walls. She pulled the thin blanket over her shoulders, shivering with the fire so low. She listened to the wind stirring outside and thunder rolled overhead. The gentle pattern shifted, growing stronger and though she’d been expecting him, Arianna couldn’t stop herself from jumping when the door burst open.
Table of Contents
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