“ARE YOU READY TO SEE THEM?” LOTHAR ASKED. “BECAUSEthey are so choice, at first I considered keeping one or two for myself. Especially the one called Mallory. They’re all a bit dirty and thin, but that can be easily rectified. I’d bet that they’re all virgins-yet another selling point. Before we talk price, you can check if you want. I’m sure the guards would be happy to help.”
Lothar confidently put his feet up on his desk. His highly polished shoes shone in the candlelight. Then he took the cigar from his mouth and blew softly on its lighted end. Tobacco bits clung to his fat lips, adding to the gluttonous impression.
The woman sitting across from him was trying to remain nonchalant. But she knew that Lothar was in the catbird seat. She hated the fat jailor, but her brothel in Bargainers’ Square needed fresh replacements. Unless she got them, she would soon be out of business altogether. Her remaining girls would have no place to go, and for that she would be sorry.
Worse, Lothar understood her plight. He was a regular visitor to her house of ill repute. He knew how few girls remained because of attrition from the orb, and that she had lost many customers. In turn, she knew his price would be even higher than usual. Even so, she refused to be bullied.
“I might not want all eight,” she countered. “It will depend on their ages, general appearance, and how outrageous your price is.”
Smiling, Lothar reached out to pour two glasses of wine. Just then they heard a distant scream filter down the hall and through the office doorway.
Soon begging and sobbing started, their sounds so faint that neither she nor Lothar could tell what the victim was pleading for. Then they heard a harsh slap. Things went quiet again. The woman across the desk looked hard into Lothar’s face.
“That had best not be coming from one of my prospective purchases,” she said skeptically. “Are you sure that your guards aren’t taking liberties?”
“Quite sure,” Lothar answered. “But they are interrogating a lady debtor who refuses to give up the last name of her family’s opposite side. She’s rather attractive, as it happens. Anyway, once we have the name, only then may the guards use her as a pastime. My rules about such things are specific. Any guard who breaks them is subject to death. But they also need to feed the inner man occasionally. You of all people should know that a slice off a cut loaf is never missed, eh?” Taking a sip of wine, he smiled at her like he commanded the entire world.
Ignoring her wine, Mary of the House of Broderick glared back at Lothar with hatred. She was a madam-that much was true. But she was no killer, torturer, or extortionist. Unfortunate conditions dictated that she must do business with him, so she would.
If there was such a thing as a madam with a conscience, it was Mary. Sold by uncaring parents into the trade at the tender age of twelve, over the years she had learned firsthand how to run a prosperous bordello. But even when times were good, it was a closely run thing. Her personal turning point had come six years ago, after being cruelly abused by a customer.
As she lay in bed fighting for her young life, the doctor summoned to her side had told her that although she would live, she would never bear children. Her madam had taken pity on her. She allowed her to stop servicing clients and took her under her wing, teaching her the trade firsthand.
Mary had sworn a solemn vow right there and then. Whenher girls had earned enough to pay off the price of their purchase, they could leave freely. Years later in her own establishment, some of her girls chose to leave, and some did not. But no matter their preference, she was always fair with them. In her own strange way she loved them like they were the children she’d never had.
She could have gotten her girls directly from the street, as did her competitors. But she knew how badly Lothar’s prisoners were treated. She wanted to help as many as she could, before they met even crueler fates at his hands. So she did business with the greasy jailor, despite how much she loathed him. His high prices cut deeply into her profits, but it was worth it.
At forty Seasons of New Life Mary was still a handsome woman, even though her previous years in the trade had stolen the bloom from her cheeks. Dark red ringlets fell to her shoulders. A stylish hat sat cocked to one side atop her head, its diaphanous veil hanging down before her face. Wishing to keep as much of her anonymity as possible, she wore it every time she visited here. Her conservatively tailored dress and equally fashionable shoes made her look more like the wife of some respected burgher or barrister than a bordello proprietor. She liked it that way.
Lothar took another sip of wine. Bluish cigar smoke left his wide nostrils to drift toward the ceiling.
“Now then, do you want to see them or not?” he asked.
Always wary where Lothar was concerned, Mary thought for a moment. “Eight girls taken in one fell swoop?” she asked. “Who are they? Where do they come from?”
Lothar scowled. He had had enough of this choosy, retired whore.
“Since when do you care about pedigrees?” he shot back. “You’re not running a charm school! Sometimes I believe you’re going soft! I don’t know who they are, and I don’t care! Stop wasting my time! Do you want to see them, or do I contact your competitors?”
Knowing she had no cards left to play, Mary nodded.
“Good,” Lothar said. “Let’s go.”
Swinging his feet off the desk, he stood. Mary retrieved her heavy purse from the floor. The kisa inside it jangled together enticingly. Mary winced. The fat jailor smiled.
Lothar escorted her to the doorway. Mary squared her shoulders and started following him down the dark hallway. She had taken this walk before, and always for the same reason.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to prepare herself for the kinds of things she would encounter along the way.
From her place near the cell’s far wall, Mallory looked down at the empty dishes. Although the food and water had been evenly divided, there had been very little for any of them individually. The bowls had all been licked clean; not a drop of water remained. If their sustenance didn’t improve, what magical powers they had remaining would soon be gone.
She suddenly winced as the pain came again-sharp, stabbing, humiliating. She still hurt in secret places where the guard had probed her. Even so, her exhaustion was so great that it easily rivaled her discomfort. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the dank wall.
She suspected that the hour was late, but there was no way to be sure. All the girls other than she and Ariana were huddled together in one of the cell’s corners, fast asleep. A brutish guard paced back and forth on the other side of the barred door. Other than his footsteps and the squeaking rats, this part of the prison was quiet.
Mallory trudged across the room to join Ariana. Her friend was again sitting on her knees, staring at the latest symbols and numbers she had scrawled across the wall. The piece of charcoal she held had become much smaller, prompting Mallory to wonder what they would do when it was gone. She gently placed one hand atop Ariana’s shoulder. Ariana turned her dirty face up to her.
“How goes it?” Mallory whispered.
Sighing, Ariana ran one forearm across her brow. “Don’t get too excited,” she warned, “but I may have it.”
Mallory eagerly went to her knees to look at Ariana’s calculations. Then she groaned inside when she saw that the tightly spaced numbers and symbols stretched for more than three feet.
“Can it be shortened?” she asked.
Unsure of her answer, Ariana pushed her tongue against one cheek. “Perhaps,” she answered. “But I’m not the one to do it. Only a fully realized wizard or sorceress could shortcut this mess. For our use, I’m afraid it must stand as is.”
Mallory understood Ariana’s concern. In order to master a spell, one had to commit the formula to memory until recalling it was second nature, and then activate it in a split second. Ariana’s work would be difficult for Mallory to absorb, and time was running out. The other way to perform a spell was to recite the formula verbatim, in the form of an incantation.
Hearing footsteps, Mallory looked to the door. The guard passed by without looking in. She turned back to Ariana.
“Have you tested it?” she asked.
Ariana shook her head. “No,” she answered flatly. “I didn’t dare.”
“Why not?”
“The other girls’ gifts aren’t as strong as ours,” Ariana said. “You and I are the only two who might succeed. Either of us will only have enough strength for a single try. After that we may never have enough power again.”
“Worse yet is the sound it is sure to produce, should it work,” Ariana went on. “This place is very old. Everything is covered in rust and grime. If I were to test it just as the guard happened by-well, you get the picture.”
Sadly, Mallory had to agree. “What do you suggest?” she asked.
Ariana thought for a moment. “We should reverse roles,” she said.
Mallory looked surprised. “Why?” she asked.
“I am the one who wrote the spell, not you. I know it better. If it works for me, then you can perform the part I was to do and entice the guard. I know it’s not what we agreed on, but it seems the only way.”
For several long moments, Mallory considered Ariana’s suggestion. “Do you think you can do it?” she asked.
Ariana sighed. “There’s only one way to find out. But I can summon only enough energy to try once, so I’ll do it by incantation rather than memory. That way has the greatest chance of success.”
Ariana thought about what was at stake, then looked Mallory in the eyes. “You’re our leader,” she whispered. “What do you want me to do?”
A concerned look came over Mallory’s face. She stared back at the other girls. All six were fast asleep. Even Magdalene, their resident troublemaker, was out. Mallory looked back at Ariana.
“If there was ever a time to try, it’s now,” she whispered. “The girls are all asleep, so they won’t react and make any noise. If you succeed, we’ll wake them. If you fail, they don’t have to know.”
Standing, Mallory looked to the door. “Wait for my signal,” she said. “It will come when the guard is farthest away.” Ariana nodded her understanding.
“Good luck,” Mallory said.
“And you,” Ariana answered back.
Mallory waited until the guard passed by again, then she quickly tiptoed to the door. Placing her face against the dirty bars, she watched him walk away for as long as she could. When she lost the angle on him and he slipped from view, she waved one hand. Concentrating with all her might, Ariana started whispering her calculations. Remembering what Master Duncan had so often told her, when she reached the end of the formula she closed her eyes, then envisioned what she wanted to happen. With her heart in her throat, she cocked her head to listen.
Squeaking as they went, the rusty tumblers in the door’s lock started to turn over.
Knowing that the spell was only halfway finished, Ariana held her breath. Eutracian locks always turned over at least twice before they released. She winced as she heard the tumblers scrape again, even louder this time. In the quiet of the prison, they seemed deafening. Terrified, Ariana shot a glance at Mallory.
Mallory heard the guard’s footsteps abruptly stop for a moment, then start again. They came faster now, growing louder with every step.
Racking her brain, she hurried to the rear wall, then grabbed up the tin pot in which the gruel had been served. Putting a vacuous look on her face, she started absentmindedly scratching the pot against the wall, as if the relentless boredom had finally overcome her and she needed to do something, anything, to alleviate it. The scratching didn’t sound altogether like the rusty tumblers, but it was all she could think of.
As the curious guard stopped before their door, Mallory kept on with her mindless scraping. Out of the corner of one eye she saw him grab the door bars, then peer in as he searched the cell. Ariana kept her face to the wall. Mallory held her breath.
The guard finally sneered at Mallory’s foolishness. After what seemed an eternity, he let go of the door. Mallory blessed the rusty hinges that had kept it from shifting at his touch. Saying nothing, the guard turned, then continued his patrol.
Wide-eyed, Ariana looked at her. Mallory let go a sigh of relief.
It was time to wake the others. They hadn’t a moment to lose.
Mary’s dread grew as she followed Lothar down the torch-lit hallways. Today’s walk was in an unfamiliar direction. She had never visited this part of the prison before.
The dingy cells along the way held prisoners of both sexes. Some had been imprisoned for so long that their clothes were mere tatters and their bodies had wasted away to slumping sacks of bones. Mary lowered her head as she tried to ignore the pervasive stench of human waste.
Many of these wretched souls had gone mad. Some pointed, laughed, or howled insanely as Lothar and Mary walked by. Others, their eyes wide with terror and hopelessness, lunged at the bars. Still others sat huddled in their cell’s corners, babbling incoherently. Signs of physical torture showed plainly on their bodies.
Mary was comforted to know that her two most trusted girls back at the bordello knew where she was, in case Lothar tried something unexpected. That was always the case when she visited here. Even so, as she traveled deeper into this wretched place, she became more frightened.
Her mouth suddenly dry, Mary clutched her purse so tightly that her knuckles went white. She was about to tell Lothar that she wanted to go back when he stopped before a wooden door at the end of the hall. It was made of massive oak planks and was fortified with iron cross braces.
Lothar dropped his cigar and crushed it beneath one shoe. He smiled.
“Just a little farther,” he said. “I promise the trip will be worth it.”
He produced a brass key from his vest pocket and shoved it into the door’s keyhole, then turned it over.
Lothar pulled on the squeaky door. A circular stairway led downward. More torchlight shone from the depths; the sounds of a faintly cracking bullwhip and distant screams wafted up the stairs. The stench rising to meet them was nearly overpowering. Lothar beckoned Mary across the threshold and onto the mildewed landing.
Lothar locked the door behind them. The brass key went back into his pocket. Without further ado, he started down.
Having come this far, Mary knew she could never double back against the jailor’s will. Wondering whether she would ever be heard from again, she reluctantly followed him down the stairs.
Mallory shook Scarlet’s shoulders gently. At Seven Seasons of New Life, Scarlet was the youngest among them. “Wake up!” Mallory whispered.
Rubbing her eyes, Scarlet scowled sleepily. Ariana busily awakened the other five girls. Once they were all on their feet, Mallory told them to crowd around as she explained the plan. Several of them started to jump up and down and squeal with delight.
That was the last thing Mallory needed. Putting a finger over her lips, she hushed them. For once, even the disagreeable Magdalene obeyed.
“Do you all know what to do?” Mallory asked. Eager nods came from all around.
Mallory looked anxiously toward the door. She had waited until the guard passed by before waking the girls. He was due back soon. Less than an hour ago, there had been a change of shift. To her dismay, the guard patrolling the hall was now the same filthy brute who had abused her earlier. At first that had unnerved her. But now she planned to use it to her advantage. She looked anxiously at Ariana.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
Ariana nodded, but there was a worried look in her eyes. “Be careful,” she whispered. “We will have only one chance at this!”
Mallory took Ariana’s hands into hers. “I know,” she answered. “Be sure they’re ready to move at a moment’s notice!”
Mallory walked to the door. She was trembling. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. Ariana had done her part; now it was her turn. She had to be convincing, no matter how much it disgusted her.
Mallory soon heard the guard’s footsteps returning. She hiked up one side of her skirt, then grabbed the door with both hands. As the guard neared, he leered at her. Mallory forced herself to smile.
“Why don’t you stop for a while?” she asked coyly. Suddenly it was all she could do to keep from becoming ill. Even so, she moved her smiling face nearer to the dirty bars.
The skeptical guard stopped, then glanced toward the cell’s far wall. The other girls looked fast asleep in one corner, huddled up against each other as they tried to stay warm. Turning his furtive eyes back to Mallory, he looked her up and down lasciviously.
“What do you want?”
Mallory edged closer. She could smell his stink again, but she held fast.
“I want more of what you did yesterday,” she whispered. “I liked it.”
She looked back to the girls like she was making sure they were asleep. When she swiveled back around she suggestively rubbed one hip against the door.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Nobody will see. This time it will be just you and me.” She temptingly spread her legs. “Come closer,” she said enticingly. “I’ll let you do whatever you want.”
The guard couldn’t believe his good fortune. His predatory eyes shining, he leaned toward the door.
Mallory quickly summoned the craft, then used it to treble her strength. Shoving the door open with everything she had, she slammed its iron bars straight into the guard’s forehead.
To her horror he simply stood there for a moment with an amazed look on his face. Blood ran into his eyes. Then his eyeballs rolled up in his head. He fell flat onto his back, unconscious.
The girls ran to her. Mallory looked into Ariana’s eyes.
“Does any of your power remain?” she asked urgently.
Ariana shook her head. “Not much,” she whispered. “But I’ll do what I can!”
Mallory looked at Magdalene. “We three will lead, and the younger girls will follow us. Do you understand? All right, then,” Mallory said to everyone. “Let’s go!”
The younger girls following along behind them, Mallory, Ariana, and Magdalene stepped out into the hall. Wondering what might await them, they summoned whatever powers they had left.
Mallory looked first to the left, then to the right. Both ways looked the same-dark, looming, endless. She stepped over the guard’s body and started leading the girls leftward, down the hall.
May the Afterlife watch over us, she prayed.
WHEN MARY REACHED THE LAST STEP, SHE LOOKED DOWNthe hall to see an intersection looming up ahead. Five separate hallways branched away from its center. It was illuminated by wall torches. The torches’ flames cast spectral shadows across the floor and walls.
A guard sat there at a desk. He seemed bored, half asleep. When he saw Lothar approaching he quickly cleared his throat and sat upright.
The cracking bullwhip and the desperate screaming seemed much louder now. Mary found herself fervently hoping that Lothar’s route wouldn’t take them past the torture session. That was something she wasn’t prepared to see.
Just as they neared the desk, a strange-looking streak of blue lightning came out of nowhere to hit the guard squarely in the chest. He was propelled backward with such force that he was lifted into the air and slammed against the rear wall. He hit the floor hard. Blood ran from his ears and nose. Smoke drifted lazily from his burned skin and clothing. Stunned by what had just happened, Mary and Lothar simply stood there, staring. As the smoke cleared, the guard looked dead.
Calling out for help, Lothar started running toward the stricken guard. Suspecting that Lothar had just made a mistake, Mary wisely stayed back.
As Lothar reached the desk he turned to look down the facing hallway. His eyes went wide with surprise. Before he could react another blue bolt came streaking through the air. Like the first one, it hit its target squarely in the chest. The bolt slammed his great bulk into the air.
Lothar landed hard on his back atop the desk with his arms and legs dangling limply toward the floor. His eyes were closed, and his tongue protruded from between his teeth.
Not knowing what to do, Mary stood frozen in the moment. From behind her she heard the sounds of voices and running footsteps. She quickly turned to look.
Far down the dimly lit hall, she could barely see a group of guards charging toward her. They were shouting angrily and carrying torches. When she turned back to look at Lothar, her eyes went wide.
Eight dirty girls stood squarely in the intersection. All of their eyes were locked on her. They looked like starved, desperate animals. What remained of their filthy clothing looked oddly like some type of school uniform. Mary watched as the blond girl in the front narrowed her eyes and pointed one arm at her. Suddenly, Mary understood.
These were the girls Lothar wanted to sell to her. They were of the craft, and trying to break free. And they believe I’m with Lothar!
She immediately went to her knees, then put her hands into the air. From behind her the sounds of the guards’ boots were getting nearer by the moment.
“Don’t hurt me!” she screamed. “I’m not one of them! I want to leave here as badly as you do! But without my help, you’ll never find your way out!”
When the blond girl slowly lowered her arm, Mary rose to her feet and ran to Lothar’s body.
The girls watched skeptically as Mary gingerly fished about in his vest pockets. His clothing still smoked from the blast. Praying that Lothar’s brass key hadn’t melted, she finally found it. To her relief it looked intact. Then she felt herself being spun around by the shoulders and stared directly into the blond girl’s eyes. The girl’s strength had been amazing.
“Who are you?” the girl demanded.
“There’s no time!” Mary answered. She held the key before the girl’s face.
“More guards are coming!” she protested. “Our only chance is to help one another! You command the craft, and I know the way out! Come on-we must go now!”
The blond girl looked skeptically at a girl with dark hair. After several precious moments the two of them finally nodded. With the eight girls hot on her heels, Mary charged down the hallway leading toward the circular staircase.
The guards entered the intersection, then skidded to a stop. They looked in horror at Lothar’s body, then ran after Mary and the girls.
Mary knew that they didn’t have much of a lead, and that the girls would be weak from lack of food. With Lothar out of action, she tried not to think about what the guards would do to them if they were caught. Clutching the key like it was her very life, she ran as fast she could.
She reached the stairway, and charged up it. After conquering several steps, she finally dared to look back to check on the girls. The six younger ones soon reached the steps and started up. She was terrified to see the older blonde and brunette standing at the bottom.
“Hurry!” Mary screamed at them. The two girls looked up at her.
“Go on!” the blonde shouted. “We’ll be right there!”
Her mind a panicky jumble, Mary shoved the key into the door, then gave it a turn. Pushing for all she was worth, she swung it open. She ushered the six girls through like a distraught mother hen. Then she went back onto the landing and looked down again.
Mallory looked down the hall. Within seconds the guards would be upon them. She looked into Ariana’s eyes.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” she shouted.
Ariana shook her head. “No!” she answered. “But it’s the best idea I have! Are you ready?”
Mallory nodded. Each girl raised her arms.
“Remember, they must be close enough so that they can’t stop in time!” Ariana warned. “Wait…wait…now!”
The two determined girls summoned their remaining powers. At first nothing happened, nearly causing them to panic. Then the floor between them and the onrushing guards was bathed in an azure glaze. The guards saw it, but they couldn’t stop in time and went skidding right into it. They came to unexpected, abrupt halts, the glue-like substance holding them fast. Some stopped so quickly that they came out of their boots and flew through the air, only to have their bodies stick when they hit the floor. Several of their torches and weapons went flying.
Charging up the stairway, the two girls made sure to coat the steps behind them as well. Near the top, they turned to look. Mallory put one hand over her mouth; Ariana’s jaw dropped.
Being novices in the craft, the girls hadn’t stopped to wonder whether the substance they created might be flammable. The torches the guards dropped had set the azure glaze afire, turning the entire floor into a raging inferno.
Unable to escape, the guards shouted and begged as the roaring flames approached. Screaming madly and flailing their limbs, one by one they started burning alive. As Mallory and Ariana stood there watching, the sickening stench of burning flesh rose to greet them.
Snaking its way toward the circular stairway, the rampaging blaze set fire to the first step, then began madly chasing them up the stairs. Mallory and Ariana turned and ran for their lives up the last two steps, then charged through the huge doorway.
Mary swung the door shut and locked it. Smoke quickly started seeping through the gap at the bottom and along the door frame.
“We have to run away from here!” one of the younger girls screamed.
“No!” Mary shouted back. “You must do as I say! There is no time to explain! Walk behind me in single file! Whatever you do, don’t talk and don’t run!”
Not knowing what else to do, Mallory nodded to the girls. They nodded back.
Just as the massive door started to come ablaze, Mary led her young charges toward the prison foyer.
The foyer was the only marginally attractive room in the prison. As she led the girls across the shiny marble floor, she nodded politely to the guards stationed there. Smiling, the guards nodded back.
Deciding to be of service, a guard walked to the double doors and held them open for the madam and her new charges. As they quietly walked through, he even went so far as to bow. Bowing back, Mary fought hard to contain a grin.
The nine females sauntered out of the prison and into the busy street. Night had fallen, and the oil streetlamps burned brightly. Praying that the girls would have the good sense to remain quiet, Mary quickly hailed a passing carriage.
Six of the girls were able to sit inside; two had to climb atop the roof. Reaching up, Mary handed the driver more kisa than he had seen in a week. He beamed a toothless smile down at her.
“Where to, m’lady?” he asked. Hearing the question, Mallory stuck her head out of one of the carriage windows.
“To the royal palace!” she ordered.
When Mary gave her a questioning glance, Mallory scowled back. “I’m giving the orders now,” she said quietly.
Mary shook her head. Wasting no time, she climbed up to sit with the driver.
“The royal palace it is,” she repeated.
With a crack of the driver’s whip, they were off.