Page 22

T he Blood Moon Feast had arrived.

Claire and I sat on her bed, finishing the last morsels of cheese she’d pilfered from the kitchen earlier that afternoon. We savored every bite. Most of the nourishment we received came from the food she stole for us, rather than the inedible concoctions left in our rooms by Ms. Salty.

Hearing footsteps, we tucked our rations under the nearest pillow.

Jarrett appeared a moment later. “Nova, I’ve been looking for you. Lady Jesmine has requested you upstairs.”

My stomach knotted at the request.

I hadn’t spoken with Jesmine since our encounter in the dungeon. In the back of my mind, I feared she would have more to teach me.

Had she waited until now?

I rose, sharing a look with Claire. Her brow scrunched with worry, as I was sure my own did. I followed Jarrett from the room.

“Do you know what this is about?” I asked, catching up to his stride.

“No, she didn’t say.”

I peered over at him as we walked, but his expression held neutral, and as always, hard to read.

What if this is about my attempt to steal the elixir?

I looked around, making sure no one was near, then whispered, “Did you tell Jesmine?”

His pace slowed, and he looked over at me with a piercing stare. “Of course not.” He pulled in a long breath and continued forward. A few steps later, he added, “I’m not sure what she is after.”

From there, we remained silent.

I marched behind him, up the back stairs and to the third floor. We meandered down a familiar hallway, then turned right into a decorated area I had never visited. He stopped in front of a room, the door slightly ajar.

“This is where she said to deliver you.” He paused as if he was about to say more, but turned on his heels and left me at the doorway.

I tapped on the door and pushed in. “Hello?”

A wash basin and privacy screen were set up on the far side of the space. Random fabrics laid over chairs and stools, more were piled high on a small table. The dressing room certainly did not belong to Jesmine, it was too unorganized and modest to even imagine her stepping foot in it.

A maid entered from a door on the opposite side of the room.

“You the human?” she asked. Her light gray eyes looked me over and stuck on my tattered brown smock.

“I see why I was needed.” She wasn’t much older than me.

Tight blonde curls spilled out from the ribbon binding her hair.

She wore a clean blue apron with small pockets all down the front.

“Yes. I’m Nova.”

“Come over here and wash up.” She pointed to the basin. “Take off them workin’ scrubs while I fetch ya the gown.”

A flash of panic hit as I moved further into the room. “Gown? … Why? … Am I expected to serve the guests?”

“Hahaha!” she let out a spirited laugh. “No, nothin’ like that. You part of the party, deary.” She winked with an amused grin.

“I don’t understand—”

“Ahh, quit with ya questions. I do what I’m told, and the lady says you gotta be dressed and so ya shall be.” She moved behind me, placed her hands on my shoulder, and guided me behind the screen. “Now take off them scrubs and get to wash’n.”

Taking in a deep breath, I unclenched my hands. The maid’s footsteps faded from the room. Slowly, I untied my frock, removed my underdress, and used the sponge to scrub my face, arms, and legs.

Just as I finished, the maid returned. Satisfied, she dressed me in a pale lavender gown with a scooped neck and lace trim.

She refused to let me dress myself. Apparently, she wasn’t bothered by touching a human, or if so, hid it well.

She brushed out my hair and pinned it up into a loose bun, leaving a few strands out to frame my face.

“You look mighty pretty, if I say so myself.” She puffed up with pride before pinching my cheeks and heading to the door. “Ready for ya,” she hollered down the hall.

A moment later, Jarrett appeared in the doorway. Concern dimmed his eyes when he took in my transformation and his lips pressed together tightly. “Follow me,” he grumbled as he started down the hall.

I marched to his side. “What? Why did you give me that look? Why am I dressed like this?” I pulled at the silky fabric.

His forehead creased. “I don’t know. … I don’t think it’s good ...” he waved a hand up and down at me, “... this.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, worry flooding in. It made no sense why Jesmine would want me, a human servant, to be dressed in a fine gown for her Ashlora party.

The din of the feast could be heard as we descended to the second floor. Jarrett turned down the hallway leading to the courtyard. The tall, black, double doors were propped open, the festivities of the courtyard spilling forward.

I flattened my palms against the soft fabric at my sides as we stepped into the space. Instead of the fresh air I hoped for, it smelled of perfume and tobacco, the area full of partygoers.

The full moon shone above, illuminating the evening sky in an eerie red glow.

Ashlora filled the tables, feasting and drinking without a care.

Glasses were filled with a dark red liquid.

I would have mistaken it for wine if Claire hadn’t told me of the Keeper’s special blood potion made for the occasion.

Jarrett led me down a winding path lined with ordinary torches; their yellow-orange flames radiated heat.

I could feel eyes observing me from every direction as we made our way through the crowd. The thought of the Ashlora and their burning hands surrounding me made my chest itch with the phantom sensation of Jesmine’s scorching palm.

We stopped in front of a large table, Jesmine seated at its head. Jarrett gave a slight bow before lightly hooking his hand around my elbow and guiding me forward.

Jesmine’s focus snagged on me, eyes flickering, her mouth turned up at the corners. She reached over, ensnaring my wrist. When I flinched at her touch, it only fed her grin. Her grip tightened and she pulled me closer.

“Lord Turner,” she crooned to an older man across the table. The Ashlora was bleary-eyed with a stern scowl and puckered lips. Strands of white hair swept over his broad forehead. Jesmine continued, “I was hoping you would play another hand with me tonight.”

Lord Turner took notice of me, eyes moving down to my chest before roaming back up. “I’ve already lost enough of my coin tonight, Lady Jesmine.”

“Ah yes, but you see, I have something new to add to the pot.” She gestured toward me. “Something suited for your tastes …”

My jaw clenched, fist tightened. She is going to gamble me, that wretched hag!

I squirmed, only to hear my worry confirmed. “The winner of the next round will win one night of service from the lovely human Offering, Nova.” Then, as if it were in question, she added, “With the understanding I will need her returned to me the following morning, for said offering, of course.”

I found myself shrinking back, but her grip on my wrist grew painful. “Nova, you see, is so curious about what happens in my fortress. Curious about our Ashlora ways.” The look she gave me left no doubt that this was part of my punishment.

My heart pounded to escape my chest. I couldn’t focus on Lord Turner’s reply. He licked his lips and sipped from his glass, gaze sliding down to my chest again.

I pulled my free arm across myself and swallowed a pent-up scream.

As if the situation wasn’t bad enough, it seemed my human presence drew the attention of others. A mouse among felines, I amused their senses. Before the first hand was dealt, a few more Ashlora eagerly added their bets to the table.

I didn’t know how to escape. Helplessly standing there, I watched the game begin.

My only hope was if Jesmine was playing to win and just brought me here as a show of power. If I were lucky, the game would end, and she would scoop up her coins and send me back to my room—lesson learned.

“Find a chair for our guest of honor,” she instructed a nearby visitor. The man escorted me to an empty chair at the side of the table.

Cards were laid down. Ashlora lords and ladies laughed and chirped.

Conversations were nothing but a clatter of words in my ears, only the outcome of the game was important to me.

Those betting revealed their hands one by one. Cards were turned over at a painstakingly slow pace. Time sludged by. The contestants thinned. Until only Jesmine and Lord Turner remained.

Jesmine laid down her last card, a seven of storms, easily beat by the lord’s nine of shadows. I sucked in a breath and reached for my mother’s beads.

Jesmine pushed out her bottom lip. “Boo.” She frowned, then instantly pulled a smile. “Well, better luck to me next time. Now Lord Turner, when would you like to claim your night of services with the lovely Nova?”

The old man chuckled, eyes gleaming. “Well, there is no better time than the present. In fact, I was getting ready to head back to my room.” He tipped his chin in my direction, a wicked sneer crossed his lips.

My insides screamed, and I pulled back. “No!”

Jesmine’s hand returned to my wrist. “Now Nova, don’t make me remind you of your place in front of our guests.” Her eyes twinkled with challenge and amusement.

What would she do if I ran? … She needs me alive, at the very least.

“Lady Jesmine, it was a pleasure playing with you.” Lord Turner’s voice turned demanding and throaty as he faced me. “Come, girl,” he said.

I quickly assessed my options—but they all seemed to end in punishment. Jesmine’s wrath would be wicked.

I studied the old Ashlora and resigned myself to take my chances there.

Sensing Jesmine’s watchful eye, I forced myself to step in his direction. Maybe I could distract him or serve him with enough blood potion so he would pass out. He was rather intoxicated already.

He snaked his arm through mine, positioned my hand to rest on top of his, and trapped it there with a forceful grip. His palm was hot and sweaty.

Forcing a mask of outer calm, inside, my soul ached to rip away from his grasp.