Stonechild Read online

Stonechild

  by June Dal

  Copyright 2013 by June Dal

  Table of Contents

  Stonechild

  Addendum

  Stonechild

  by June Dal from an original story by Stewart Robertson

  Mighty was the mission of the slender girl scurrying from one protective cover to the next. Her eyes constantly scanned the deceptively peaceful territory around her. She well knew the dangers, and the predators who would rip her precious discovery from her grasp. There were many that would steal her golden treasure. She’d been robbed of her victory before and would be again, but this time she was determined to keep what was hers.

  All too soon, the girl’s path led to a large shopping plaza. Here she paused and warily surveyed the milling shoppers. The streets of Florant's capital city were even more crowded than usual. There was to be a ducal wedding soon, and visitors from all over the duchy had descended on the city for the celebration. So many rich newcomers meant even more thieves milled among the unwary. The city was more dangerous than it had ever been. The girl understood that.

  To get to her goal, she would have to leave her hiding spot and cross the open space. This would be when the wolves would pounce. Cut-purses, pick-pockets, all manner of toughs and villains hunted here. The question was not if an attack would come, but what form it would take.

  The girl was no prey, however. She knew the hunters and the many disguises they wore. At the moment, the path seemed clear. She took a deep breath and ran for the relative safety of an alley on the far side of the plaza.

  "There you are, Granddaughter. Come here and give your grandfather a hug."

  Startled, the girl spun to face the voice. From where he had sat hidden within a doorway, an old man was climbing to his feet. He was neither handsome nor her grandfather. The old beggar used the title only to take what didn’t belong to him. Even his ‘loving hugs’ were a fake. He only embraced a street child so he could feel if they were hiding something of value within their clothes.

  She knew she should ignore the old man and run. He was walking towards her, arms open wide and a paternal grin on his face. But she stood paralyzed until he was almost upon her.

  Even though he was in no way related to her, the old man served to fill an empty part of her heart. His hugs gave comfort even as he tried to steal more than half of anything she'd hidden away. He didn't try to grope her, as some of the street boys had begun to, in places she didn't like being touched.

  In a way, his thefts were a trade -- touch for treasure. More than once she'd chosen to trade her wealth for the illusion of companionship he offered. The girl hesitated a moment longer, at war with herself over which need felt greater. Before he could touch her, she backed away.

  "Come here," the old man protested. She shook her head.

  He sighed and turned, slowly returning to his seat in the doorway of an abandoned shop. It was a bad place for begging, tucked too far into the alley for those passing down the street to see, but stronger, meaner wolves had claimed the good spots. The girl understood how the society of beggars worked. The old man gathered just enough to keep from starving.

  "If you come closer, child," he said as he settled himself on the stone, "I'll tell you a story."

  Stories were safer than hugs. He couldn't hold on while rummaging through her clothes. "A Cadre story?"

  He patted the stone step next to him. She shook her head. Not today would she move so close to him, not with the precious secret she carried inside her shirt. Instead she squatted where she was in the muck and waited for the story.

  "You want to hear the bloody stories, don't you?" he coaxed. "You like the ones about the baby killers and the blood drinkers. Magic stories."

  It wasn't the blood and the killing she liked. It wasn't even the magic. She liked hearing about the bond the deadly magic-users possessed. The Cadre were a strange mix of hero and monster, protecting society from the true horror of the ancient vortecien threat while themselves performing wicked acts of magic. She was both fascinated and repelled by stories of them.

  "No story if you don't come closer," the false-grandfather insisted.

  She considered the risk, decided it was too great, and ran.

  "Come back here, you little urchin!" he shouted behind her. But she only ran harder. It was a shame to lose a story, but she retained her prize, and, today, that was more important.

  She ran until she reached the shore of the smaller of Chenon's two rivers. A bridge crossed there, ahead of the converging point. The crumbling stone span led to the city's dump, yet, like all the architecture of the great city, it was ornately carved. The city was beautiful even in its ugly places. The girl grabbed a decorative outcropping of stone that hung out from the first bridge support and swung precariously over the water. Then she dropped into a tiny alcove hidden under the walkway.

  Now safe in her tiny home, the girl could relax.

  The space wouldn’t seem like a place to live to most people. There was no room to stand and barely enough to lie down. She had to tuck up her knees when she slept to keep her feet inside the shelter. The bed was made from rags and weeds. There was a small shelf formed from bits of broken lumber. There she kept her small collection of shiny odds and ends, pretending they were treasures. The cold stone walls were covered with fire-soot sketches of people she'd seen in the street. She pretended they were family portraits.

  The place stank of fish and sewage from the dump across the river. But this was the girl’s home and here she prepared to enjoy the fruits of her labors.

  Carefully she untied the strings holding her tattered shirt on and reached inside the front. She quickly pulled out a loaf of stale bread and placed it on the bed before her. Then she reached again into her shirt and slowly, almost reverently, pulled out a crumbly hunk of cheese the size of her fist.

  The cheese-maker had thrown away several large wheels which had gone bad. She’d spent the whole morning carefully digging through the putrid green mold. Sure enough, each of the wheels had held a narrow sliver of still-edible gold. This was a prize well earned and she was now ready to enjoy her bounty. Her mouth watered in anticipation as she prepared to eat.

  As she had done every day since she could remember, the girl slid her legs beneath herself so she was kneeling before her meager meal. She placed her hands on the ground and bowed low three times, thanking her ancestors for watching over her and providing her with food. Then she bowed a fourth time. With her cut-short hair touching the stone floor, she asked her forefathers to look after her deceased parents.

  Her ritual finished, the girl shifted to a more comfortable sitting position and scooped up the cheese. But as she lifted the food to her mouth, a deep feeling of melancholy swept through her. She sat unmoving as the black mood wrapped itself around her like a cold draft. Finally, she put her untasted meal down and tried to collect her thoughts.

  What is wrong with me? she thought to herself. It’s been almost ten years since my family was murdered. Why am I getting upset again?

  She gave a little start when the answer came to her. She was feeling guilty about Grandfather. Even though he was in no way actually related to her, the old man did fill an empty part of her heart. The fact he always took a major portion of everything she found seemed less important now that she was alone in her hovel. He had even less than she. He couldn't have stood long enough to dig through the mold for good cheese. She would have more opportunities to gather such pleasure, but the old man barely survived day to day. Would she have starved if she let him steal the cheese?

  Perhaps. Perhaps not. She knew the pang of guilt she felt wasn't the real cause of her pain. The old man’s feigned affections, like the many images of people she had sketched on the walls around her, we
re a salve for a deeper need. In the tiny niche she had carved for herself, she was utterly alone. It would not be hunger that killed her, she realized, but loneliness.

  Her earliest years had been very different. The girl's parents had run a small shop in the poorer section of Chenon. She'd known everyone within that small nest of streets and alleys. Each person, from the butcher to the potman, was born, lived and eventually died knowing they were part of a community, a greater whole. Though she'd been very small, she'd known it too, then.

  People were meant to have communities. They were meant to work not only for themselves, but for the benefit of those around them as well. And, for that effort, they were rewarded by having a place. Even the relations of servant to master, peasant to duc, served this universal balance.

  But her family lost their place along with their dingy, little shop. They'd become nomads in the midst of the crowded city. And soon after that, her parents had died, leaving her alone.

  Alone she'd remained. She produced nothing, provided no services to others. All her efforts were focused on personal survival, and even then she produced nothing but another miserable day for herself. Everything she wore, ate, or owned was either picked from the garbage or found growing in the wild. Her treasures were someone else's discard. She lived entirely by serendipity and the refuse of other people's toil. She was part of nothing. She had no reason to live.

  She had tried several times to change her life. When she got old enough, she'd looked for work at every business and house on this side of the city. Nobody had wanted to hire her. They would take one look and decide she was either ignorant or a thief. One would think that somebody in Florant’s capital city would have need of a willing back, but even the stable refused to hire her. "Maybe they’re afraid I’d stuff a horse into my shirt and slip away," she muttered to herself.

  The comment had been meant to be rhetorical. A response wasn’t expected. A response like a chorus of wind instruments was even less expected. Startled from her reverie, the girl grabbed her food off the bed and pushed herself along the floor until her back was pressed firmly against the far stone wall. Icy fear clawed its way down her spine when she saw the small intruder crouching at the entrance to her hole.

  Though she'd never seen one this close, the girl knew what had invaded her sanctuary. It was a terex; one of the strange lizard-birds that were the exclusive property of the magic-wielding, baby-eating Cadre. She would be in a lot of trouble if she were caught with it.

  "Go away," she managed to gasp.

  The creature blinked, but made no move to leave.

  Grandfather's stories leapt to her mind. Individual Cadre members were called cavaliers. Each accompanied a terex like the one before her. The cavaliers were wildly, dangerously protective of their lizard-birds. If the owner of this particular terex were to show up, he would like cut her heart out for simply being close to the beast. "Go away before your master comes."

  The terex tilted its head to one side and blinked, as if questioning her words. It turned away and walked to the entrance. But instead of flying away, the lizard-bird stuck its head out of the alcove’s entrance and looked left, then right, then left again. As if satisfied there was nobody outside, the terex returned to where it had been standing before. It whistled out a short string of incredibly fast notes and settled down into a half-sitting stance. The girl would have sworn the beast was grinning at her.

  Her heartbeat began returning to normal. No cavalier had appeared to kill her and the terex itself didn't seem interested in attack. She stretched her legs out to ease the cramps out of them. Her feet were bare and dirty, and the trousers she wore had grown increasingly shorter in the past year until most of her calf was bare as well. She didn't like thinking about what she'd do when the clothing grew too small to fasten around her hips. She focused on her strange visitor.

  The terex was bigger than she'd first guessed, almost two feet tall, and with wings which, even half folded, took up the entire end of the room. Its scaled head and neck were medium grey in color. The rest of the creature was covered with dull brown feathers. It had none of the colorful plumes Grandfather's stories suggested. The only bright feature on this one was its metallic green eyes.

  "Hi there, fella," she said, as if talking to a dog. The terex looked at her, then began chewing on its foot.

  "So, what brings you to this part of the city? Are you lost?" The girl took a bite of cheese and continued speaking with a full mouth. "Look, I hope you don’t expect me to find your owner. Anybody who saw us together would probably think I stole you. Either I’d end up in jail or you’d be somebody’s dinner or worse. You’d be better off……HEY!"

  The terex had casually bitten her exposed leg. She jerked her leg back. "What was that for?"

  The thing hopped closer. The two-foot tall, feathered lizard looked very much like a predator suddenly and the girl realized that, trapped within the small alcove, it could do her serious damage. She tried to scramble back, but was stopped by the wall.

  The movement put her leg back within the terex's reach. It pounced, grabbing her wounded leg in its bleeding claw. The girl stared in fear as her blood welled up between the thing's toes.

  Without warning, a rippling sensation flowed through the girl’s body like a hot breeze. A roaring like that of a stormy ocean assaulted her senses as her head reeled. With an insane sense of forethought, she clutched her precious cheese to her chest before collapsing on her back. She squeezed her eyes shut against the panic freezing her heart and threatening to overwhelm her. It never occurred to her until then that the terex might be poisonous.

  Something pelted her body from above. The only thing she could relate the sensation to being buried in loaves of bread. After several long seconds, the pelting and the roaring ceased. Hoping the worse was over; the girl took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

  Darkness. Complete, impenetrable darkness. The feeble daylight, which normally made its way under the bridge to illuminate her hidden hovel, was gone. Trying to lift her head to see what was blocking the doorway, the girl discovered she couldn’t move. The bridge must have caved in on her.

  Calm yourself, child, a maternal voice whispered inside her head. Our bonding has sent a very clear signal. The others will be here to dig us out momentarily. They aren't that far away. You have no reason to fear.

  "Who are you? What happened? Help me, I’m under all these rocks. I can’t breath."

  My name is KKairee. You are all right. Stone can no longer cause you harm. There’s plenty of air down here for us to breathe. All we need do is wait, but you must be calm.

  "Remain calm! How can I remain calm? I’m being crushed alive!"

  She couldn't feel any real pain, but she knew the weight of the bridge would eventually crush her. She remembered her parents dying. Her mother's wounds had been horrible, yet she hadn't seemed to feel them. She'd only repeated over and over 'be a good girl' and 'I love you' until the light went out of her eyes. Maybe her own body was so broken that she couldn't feel anymore.

  It was an effort to draw every breath. Sweat ran down her brow as she strained every muscle in her body in an effort to free herself, but the massive stones pinning her down were too heavy.

  "I can’t breathe," she howled. "I can’t breathe!"

  Child, you’re hyperventilating. You must remain calm.

  "I’m not going to be calm. I’m going to die. I’m going to die!"

  Be careful. You’re beginning to panic. There was a sense of urgency in the older woman’s voice, but the girl was beyond caring. She couldn't stop wailing. She was going to die. Her life might have no purpose, but she wanted to live.

  A sense of pressure began growing inside her. It started in the pit of her stomach and expanded through her body. It pushed against her skin until she felt she might burst. Then, she screamed. The sound started in the core of her being and rushed outward. The scream felt hard in her throat. It rushed past her tongue, rough as sand. A crac
k of what seemed like thunder answered in the rocks surrounding her.

  The force of the scream lifted her several feet off the ground. It tossed her back with an impact that should have shattered bone. Stunned, the girl lay unmoving, gasping sweet air, until the warmth of sun on her face made her realize she was free.

  Gradually, she regained control of her breathing and calmed herself before opening her eyes. She sat up, looked around, startled by her surroundings.

  The place was a mess. She found herself at the bottom of a crater. Water slowly washed over the loose rock walls. Across the river from her, she could see a span of bridge pointing right at her, ending in a ragged cliff of broken stone. Slowly, the truth came to her. The bridge which had been her roof had shattered, burst outward in all directions. Paving stones larger than she was had been tossed farther than she could hurl a pebble.

  Well, that was another way to get loose, the matronly voice said dryly behind her. Spinning around, the girl saw the terex flap up to the top of a shattered bridge support. The feathered lizard turned its head slowly, as if it too were assessing the damage.

  I’ll admit, you show great potential, the voice continued. But you must learn to control yourself. The bridge had already collapsed by our bonding, but at least it was all in one pile. Your outburst scattered the debris quite violently. That was very reckless. People could have been injured or even…. The terex sat up a little straighter, looking like it was seeing something beyond the girl’s view. Oh, good! He’s moving. There were no casualties.

  The terex looked down at where the girl was sitting. You should climb out from that hole. After all, you went to great effort to escape it.

  The girl scrabbled to the river bank, and stared up at the terex in amazement, her mind grasping at what seemed impossible.

  "It was you. You’re the one who was talking to me. I don’t get it. Animals can’t speak. How come I can hear you inside my head?"

  Without answering the girl’s questions, the terex stretched herself higher and gazed off to the east. It was clear she was seeing something from her high perch. Ah, here come our cavaliers. We should go meet them. The inhabitants of this area may not like how we ruined their bridge.

  The girl turned and climbed up on a rock for a better view. Sure enough, several men were running up the path, pointing at her and shouting. They each wore the heavy shoulder pads that marked cavaliers. Magic users. Murderers. Every story of Cadre cruelty resurfaced in her mind.

  The terex, KKairee, flew toward the men, and mentally urged the girl to join her. The girl didn't really understand magic or what was happening, but this she did know well: men who were shouting and running meant trouble. She bolted in the opposite direction.

  "That must be him," came the shout from behind her. "Come back here, boy."

  "I didn't touch your vorted bird," she screamed over her shoulder as she ran. She didn't feel any need to correct the man's mistake about her gender. As skinny and ragged as she was, most people assumed she was a boy at first glance. The error gained her more than it cost. With luck, she could lose her pursuers in the maze of streets, and when they asked about her they would be asking about a boy.

  She darted full speed down an alleyway, hopped a fence, and then plunged down a side street. At the corner she thought she might be free. An instant later, a strong arm wrapped around her middle.

  "Got you!" the man crowed. She tried to bite him, but he avoided her attack.

  Panic seized her. Magic users killed people. They sacrificed them for blood so they could have power. She wasn't going to escape the terex and the collapsing bridge only to be sacrificed by this muscle-bound brute who'd grabbed her.

  In desperation, the girl kicked back as hard as she could, catching his knee with her heel. He grunted and they both fell to the paving stones. Somehow, he held on to her. Grappling, her for freedom, him to maintain his catch, his arm pressed momentarily against her chest.

  "Not a boy!" the man bellowed.

  By now the others had arrived. She caught a glimpse of their high, polished, black boots, their impossibly wide shoulder harnesses.

  "Jean-Michel, do you need help?" one of the men asked.

  "She's beating me black and blue," the one holding her answered.

  The girl fought all the harder as the newcomers knelt around their fallen comrade. One grabbed her arms, the other her legs. Soon she was pinned firmly to the ground and the man who'd caught her rolled to his feet. The girl struggled still, but knew it was hopeless. She felt tiny sobs gathering in the back of her throat. She wasn't anyone, she didn't matter, but she didn't want to die this way.

  Jean-Michel recovered his plumed hat from the dusty street and began brushing off the fine, black brim. "Listen to me, girl. I'm Jean-Michel le Armoure of the Stone Circle, Florant Cadre. I'm not going to allow anyone to hurt you, but you have to stop fighting us."

  She didn't want to listen, but the fight drained out of her. She was caught and she wanted to believe what this Jean-Michel said. Studying him, she saw a big, handsome man with kind, blue eyes. He was smiling at her. He didn't look like a baby-eater up close.

  One of the men holding her laughed. "What a scrawny chicken. Sevien will eat her alive."

  "Oh, I don't think she's ready to be a meal." The new voice was deeper, and there was no laughter in it. "From where I'm standing, it looks like it's taking all three of you just to hold her down."

  The men holding her straightened. Through the gap between them, the tallest man the girl had ever seen bent forward to look at her. His shoulders blocked her view of the sky. Long, black hair fell over his shoulders and partly obscured his face, so she couldn't tell if he was smiling or scowling at her. He wore a fine coat, embroidered at the cuffs and hem, a dark wide-brimmed hat, and one of the heavy shoulder pads that marked the Cadre. On that pad perched a green and black terex.

  This terex looked different from the other one. Not only was it brightly colored, it also had lost most of its feathers. Only a crest of green on its head and a few long, striped pinions at its wingtips remained. The rest of the creature was all naked, scaly flesh.

  "Child, I will have these men release you if you promise not to run away." Both man and terex appraised her, as if trying to decide which cut to have for dinner. "Do you promise?"

  The girl didn't know what to do. If she promised, she'd be trapped. But, what would they do if she didn't promise? She'd heard stories of what big, dangerous men could do to young girls they trapped in the street. And these were Cadre besides. None of the city's inhabitants would help her. The very presence of the Cadre had cleared the normally busy street.

  At that moment, the terex that began this disaster drifted down to land on the pavement beside the girl's head. It whistled loudly, the song sounding remarkably indignant. KKasu, please tell SSevien that I don't approve of having my bondmate manhandled, the now familiar voice in her head echoed.

  Whoever KKasu was, he didn't answer, but the giant named Sevien said, "KKairee, this is your choice for new bondmate?"

  It is. Let her go.

  The girl didn't think the man could, or would, listen to the voice. But, he held out his hand and spoke again in a firm voice. "Let her up. Girl, trust me. We only want to help you."

  It could be a trick, she knew. Still, when the men released her, she didn't immediately scramble away. Instead she rolled over into a half-crouch, ready to dodge in any direction, and waited to hear what this Sevien had to say.

  "Why are you so frightened of us?" he asked.

  "Because you’re cavaliers." At the men’s look of puzzlement, she continued. "Everybody around here has heard about you. About how you drink blood, murder women and eat babies. Well, I may be your next victim, but I’m not going to make it easy for you."

  The four men stared at her in silent amazement. After a long moment, Sevien, looking almost sad, slowly shook his head. "Is that what the commonfolk think of us?" he asked the air before him.

  One of th
e other men got a wicked look on his face. "Surely you exaggerate," he called out. "Sevien hasn’t killed and eaten anybody for at least a couple of weeks now." He laughed at his own comment.

  Sevien spun to face the man, his every feature screamed his apparent anger. "Silence, you fool," he growled. "She already believes a vortecien’s blade is at her throat. We don’t need anything to frighten her more. Do I make myself clear?"

  The man who had spoken looked like he was going to get angry. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

  "Well, the young lady is Stone's problem now," said the man who had been holding her arms. "No need for Water or Wind." He nudged the one who had held her legs. "We'll leave you to her. Coming, my friend?"

  The girl thought he was speaking to the other man. However, a blue and green terex took that very moment to fly from a nearby rooftop and land on the man’s shoulder. The man smiled at the terex then turned and bowed towards her. "Adieu, mademoiselle. " The man winked at her then turned and sauntered away. The other man glared at Sevien for a moment. Then he turned and stomped off in a different direction.

  "Now that we have that out of the way," Sevien said, looking like he just got rid of something foul smelling. "Let’s try this again. This large gentleman is Jean-Michel. I am Sevien, we are both of Stone Circle for Florant. This is my terex, KKasu, and KKairee should have already introduced herself. Jean’s lazy beast, AAguis, should be around here somewhere. Now, what is your name?"

  The girl’s stomach twisted with the turmoil of mixed emotions. Things were shifting too fast for her. The monster magic-users were only men. Their terex friends didn't seem interested in eating her either. Apparently, whatever the brown terex, KKairee, had done to her in the alcove made them think she was now one of them.

  One of them. Herself. Cadre. A magic user. The ideas were too foreign and impossible. She'd longed for a place to belong, but she'd thought of a quiet shop or stable. A different sort of dread began to grow inside her. What was she going to become? What were they going to make her?

  "You must have a name," Sevien coaxed.

  In all the stories giving your name to a wizard was the first mistake. "Tramp," she managed to say. "People here often call me Tramp."

  Sevien and Jean-Michel exchanged glances. "Surely that is not your real name," Jean-Michel said.

  "I’ve had other names," she confirmed. "I’ve been called brat, mouse, urchin, gutterscum, squirrel, little shit, girl-bo, packrat, virgin slut, someday whore...."

  That is enough, interrupted KKairee. I’ve been around humans for twenty-six years. I still can’t understand how you can treat each other so badly.

  "What did your mother call you?" Sevien asked slowly. He removed his big hat and showed her the faint glimmer of a smile. "You do remember that, don't you?"

  A new thought came to her. She could belong to them, be part of them. She could be who she had been back when her parents gave her a place. She didn't know if she could be a wizard. She knew she couldn't kill babies. But, maybe that was as much a lie as the stories that called these men monsters. "Honoree," she whispered. "My mother called me Honoree."

  "Honoree. Sounds like an acceptable name to me. You are now Honoree, partner to KKairee, of the Stone Circle, Florant."

  "I don't have to kill babies, though, right?" She couldn't do that even to belong somewhere.

  "Didn't KKairee explain things to you?"

  Honoree shook her head. "She didn’t tell me nothing. She just bit me and dropped a bridge on my head. I don’t even know how I can understand what she’s saying...I mean thinking. I mean...am I going to be able to talk to all animals now?"

  KKairee straightened herself as if offended. First off, Child, I am not an animal. We tereges are sentient creatures and as intelligent as most humans. Even more intelligent than some humans I could name. As for why you can understand me, we became bonded the moment our blood mixed. Your spirit and mine are now joined. From this time forward, this bond will grant special abilities to both of us. The most obvious of these abilities will be the power to magically control Stone.

  "She says I have magic." Her mind reeled as she struggled to comprehend what she just heard.

  "That’s correct," confirmed Sevien. "Stone magic. And that magic paves the way for opportunities you’ve never dreamed of before. However, having magic also means you have certain obligations. This means you are now a member of the Cadre."

  "I refuse to drink blood!" she asserted in a harsh whisper. "You can’t make me."

  "I’m really glad to hear that," Sevien said dryly. "Look, what you heard about the Cadre is wrong. We don’t murder babies or deal in human sacrifices. Your friends have us confused with the vorteciens. We are basically soldiers. We train to fight against the kind of people who engage in the deeds you’ve accused us of. During times of peace, we get involved in civil service, as well as obey the will of the Duc d’Florant." He paused and Jean-Michel released a short laugh, though this girl didn’t get the joke. "Since you are now one of the Claimed, your attendance in the Cadre is mandatory, but we would still prefer for you to join us of your own free will."

  "It’s not a bad life," Jean-Michel threw in. "You’ll enjoy hot food, a warm bed, clean clothes...."

  "Do I get a horse?" Honoree asked, cutting him off.

  Sevien and Jean-Michel exchanged glances. "Greedy, isn’t she?" Jean-Michel asked nobody in particular. Finally, Sevien answered, "No, we don’t give you a horse. We use horses in our training, but they belong to the Cadre."

  "If you like, you can save up your pay and buy a horse," Jean-Michel added.

  "I don’t really want a horse," she blurted quickly. "I just wanted to find out if you’d promise me one." At their looks of confusion, she explained, "You would’ve promised me a horse if you were lying or trying to trick me. You would’ve also promised me the house I was going to ask for next. Now I have a better reason to trust you."

  Sevien chuckled and gave a little nod of his head. "Testing our honesty. I like that."

  I choose the best, KKairee added.

  Sevien chuckled again before becoming serious again. "I’m glad you’re beginning to trust us. Now I’m going to ask you to trust us a little more. Will you come with us?"

  Honoree ran a dry tongue over her even dryer lips. These men were offering her everything she ever dreamed about: security, a place in society, people who would have obligations to her in exchange for her obedience, even a measure of respect. Did she dare accept it? Her mind conjured up dozens of scenarios, even as she tried to consider her options. She knew the possible repercussions of her next choice could be disastrous.

  Was the reward worth the risk?

  Honoree slowly straightened from her half crouched position. Neither man moved as she took a half step towards them. After a long pause, she took another step. Then another. All too soon, she stood within an arm’s reach of Sevien. The man nodded his approval and offered her his hand. She stared at it for a long moment, half-expecting the powerful looking fingers to wrap themselves around her throat and crush the life out of her. She wondered if he could hear the pounding of her heart as she placed her own hand in his. To her amazement, he didn’t close his hand around hers.

  "Are you sure?" she heard Sevien ask.

  She looked up into his eyes in surprise and was even more surprised by what she saw in them. Beyond the determined and confident gaze of a man of power, there was concern. It was concern for her and, she was certain, concern for those under his command. She knew then that Sevien was a man who understood power, perhaps even had suffered some personal loss. Sevien lost the last vestiges of monster to her and became just a man.

  Still frightened, but no longer uncertain, Honoree nodded her head. She even managed a little smile. Sevien returned the smile and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before relaxing it. It wasn’t exactly a handshake, but it would serve as one.

  "You ma
de the right decision," Sevien told her. "Do you have belongings to collect?"

  Honoree frowned in deep thought for a moment before answering. "Everything I had was destroyed when my bridge collapsed. But there’s still something I need to do. Could I borrow a little money?"