‘Magick, I suppose. He’s been watching us,’ I reply.
She looks over at me and her nose curls up. ‘Don’t speak to me, slave.’
I roll my eyes and return my attention to Voss, who’s yelling something about combat readiness.
‘Hurt your nose, slave?’ the male next to me mutters. ‘Looks a bit swollen.’
His friend next to him titters.
We’re given partners and I’m put in a circle with a sneering fae female with long, black hair, who looks me up and down with a nasty grin as if she expects this will be easy. She doesn't even try to fight me properly, putting a hand behind her back and laughing at me.
I enjoy wiping the look off her face when I hit her square in the mouth, giving her a little wink for good measure. After that, she takes me a bit more seriously, and we circle each other, but I don't want anyone else here to know that I’m Kismet, so I don't let her hurt me. I don't hurt her anymore either. I do findout, though, that this female at least doesn’t seem to be much stronger than I am.
The day continues in the same vein. Luckily, Voss doesn't single me out much. He's more involved with ensuring the fae do what they're told. At first glance, I thought this group to be formidable, but as the training proceeds over the morning and into the afternoon, none of them strike me particularly as warriors.
Though perhaps there’s different training for that. These fae are meant to be spies going to the Dark Realms, not defenders of the precious Underhill, after all.
One of the males, a tall one with dark curls even turns to me when none of his friends are near enough to hear and whisper asks if it’s true that I grew up in the Dark Realms. The awe in his tone makes me wonder. Aren’t these fae supposed to be at the end of their training, meant to be entering the Dark soon?
They don’t seem at all ready to me.
But I’m not their teacher. What does a former Dark Realm slave like me know?
At the end of the combat training, it’s quite late. The sun is setting over the mountains to the west. Voss orders us to run back to Halsford via the same path. This time, the wards don’t stop me.
When we arrive at the Hall, Jak isn’t there yet, but Voss is leaning against the stone wall, using his knife to clean under his fingernails.
‘Be here at fifth chime tomorrow,’ he says to all of us.
He begins to walk past the group toward the Hall door but stops short just in front of me.
‘I know you aren’t claimed properly, slave,’ he sneers. ‘I can smell it.’
Smell it?
I let him see my disgust.
‘I’ll be letting Calder know. Tell Locke it better be done soon or you’ll be shackled in the darkest cell in my keep until you’re needed.’ He lets out a biting laugh. ‘Have to ensure Halsford is safe.’
I shiver in spite of myself.
He pushes past me, leaving me with the rest of the fae who are loitering by the alley, I suppose waiting for the Breach to open so they can go back to their Underhill homes for the night.
I watch them for a moment as I wait for Jak, wondering idly if I should just walk back to the cottage alone.
A few of the fae are standing in a group together, talking quietly.
'Why is there a slave training with us?' one of the females says loudly. 'My father is going to hear of this. What canshedo to help the Underhill?'
'There are other humans who are spies, Mirabel,' the one I was fighting earlier says to her.
Mirabel scoffs loudly. 'The last male they sent died, I heard. The woman came back with horrible injuries. And her mind is in shreds. They say she’ll never be right again.'
Mirabel steps closer to me and lowers her voice an octave. 'They say her arms and neck were locked in a stockade and she was defiled by many, many males for hours. Days. Her only sustenance was whatever spend they shot into her mouth.'
I tilt my head at the fae female, unmoved. Does she think that she can scare me with such tales of the Dark? I frown. Some of the others in the group do look a bit upset by her words and it’s becoming apparent that these fae have no idea what sights await them. What has their training with Voss actually been about if not to prepare them for the realities of the Dark Realms?
'It’s called a block,’ I say, keeping my eyes on hers.
