Rough hands carried Aerie silently through the pitch black and narrow confines of the ceiling crawlspace. She had woken to a dagger at her throat and a whispered command for silence. Her hands and feet had been tightly bound, a filthy rag stuffed into her mouth and secured with a gag, and then a rope about her waist had been used to raise her up to the hole in the ceiling. The entire operation had taken less than thirty seconds.
Fighting back terror, she tried to think. If she made any noise, tried to struggle, they would likely kill her on the spot. Her best bet was to remain still and wait for a better opportunity. Jessime would come after her – and Minsc. And when Minsc gets hold of them, they'll be sorry, she told herself fiercely. You've got to keep yourself alive for him. He'll blame himself if anything happens to you, just like he blames himself for Dynaheir.
The stifling atmosphere of the crawlspace was abruptly replaced by the slightly cooler night air of Brynnlaw as she was pushed into waiting hands in the alleyway behind the Vulgar Monkey. A bright light shone briefly on her face.
"This is the one." A callused hand under her chin forced her face up, but the glare of the lantern kept her from seeing the face of her captor. "Boss lady found a beauty this time, all right."
"Better'n those hags she lets work the front," a second voice agreed. "Think she'd mind if we tried her out first?" A hand groped her roughly through her robes. She forced herself to remain still. Stay alive; that's all that matters. You survived the slavers, and you can survive this. The others will find you.
"Mind?" the first voice snorted. "Only enough to turn you into sharkbait." The hand jerked away. "One this fine'll bring top price, but only while she's fresh," the voice continued. "She's not for the likes of you or me, but maybe Galvena will reward us by letting us have a go at Claire before she kills her."
Claire. As she recognized the name, the heat of anger evaporated all traces of fear. She's going to kill her, and for what? For daring to fall in love? Or for trying to leave?
"We won't get the chance if that bloody giant she was with comes out and finds us here with her," a third voice growled as the last of the kidnappers slid out of the crawlspace to the ground.
"I'm not afraid of him," the second voice sneered, but the lantern was extinguished and Aerie thrown unceremoniously over the shoulder of the owner of the callused hands. "Keelor said he spent the whole evening talkin' to a rat."
"Keelor also said that he and the tall bitch gutted Amerand like a fish before he could blink twice," the third one reminded him as they began walking away from the alley. They moved purposefully, but made no special effort at concealment, and it soon became obvious that none was necessary. Their passage was marked with whoops of triumph from the other pirates, and Aerie was assailed from all sides with jeers and promises to visit her. The language they used to express their intentions was even more graphic than it had been that afternoon, and fear once again displaced Aerie's anger.
The combination of the fear, the dirty rag jammed into her mouth and being thrown facedown over someone's shoulder was also causing a nausea that was increasingly difficult to control. She didn't dare vomit; with the gag in place, she'd wind up choking on it, and they weren't likely to risk giving her the chance to cast a spell by removing the gag. Gritting her teeth as best she could around the mouthful of fabric, she silently prayed to Baervan for strength.
More catcalls greeted their entrance to the brothel itself, and many of the women joined in with an enthusiasm that exceeded that of the patrons.
"Oooo, lookit the little fishie that got herself caught!" one crowed, lifting Aerie's head by the hair as she was carried past.
"Bet she don't look so sweet six months from now," another one, with a face marred by a scar that ran from forehead to chin, sneered.
Most of the whores laughed, but Aerie saw a few turn away, their faces bleak. Is this how they came to this place? How long did it take before they lost hope, gave up trying to get away? Panic closed an icy fist around her heart. Minsc, hurry, please!
Her captor carried her through a doorway in the rear of the tavern, pausing to bolt the door behind him. The narrow hallway was lined on both sides with doorways; she was carried through one halfway down the hall and thrown onto a narrow bed, her hands tied to an iron ring on the bedpost. After he had secured the knots, he stepped back, looking her up and down with a knowing leer.
"Oh, you'll definitely bring a prime price."
"Back so soon?" The woman who entered the room appeared to be in her early forties, as tall as Jess, with a muscular build that was well displayed by the tight leather pants and sleeveless vest that she wore. A long dagger was sheathed at each hip, and another dagger hilt was visible at the top of each boot. Her hair was black shot through with strands of grey, and was pulled back in a single braid that fell down her back. Her face would have been somewhat attractive had it not been for the expression of cold cruelty that dominated it. Dark eyebrows arched imperiously over cold grey eyes, and her full lips were curled into a supercilious sneer.
She bent over Aerie, grabbing her face in an iron grip and turning it this way and that, examining her dispassionately. Releasing her face, she ran her hands over Aerie's body appraisingly, her expression resembling that of someone checking a newly purchased horse for lameness. Aerie forced herself to remain still. Determined not to show her fear, she glared up at Galvena, but the woman only chuckled, an oddly humorless sound.
"A little on the skinny side," she commented, stepping back and looking Aerie up and down, her dark eyes glittering with greed, "and a little too spirited for my taste, but there are those who will pay dearly for the chance to break that spirit. It's too bad she's a mage," she added deliberately, her eyes fixed on Aerie's face. "Having to cut her tongue out is going to hurt her value." She chuckled again as Aerie's eyes went wide.
The avariel refused to give her any more satisfaction, but her heart was thundering in her chest. No! she wailed to herself. My wings were bad enough, but my tongue? Baervan, help me! She closed her eyes to shut out the image of the hateful woman and her cruel smirk. Unable to fly, unable to cast spells; what would be left for her? She forced herself to draw deep, slow breaths. Jess and Minsc are coming; this will be the first place they look. She opened her eyes, meeting Galvena's gaze unflinchingly. And when they get here, you are going to die.
Galvena's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she met the Avariel's eyes. "Spirited indeed," she murmured. "I may give myself the pleasure of breaking this one; it's been too long since I've had a challenge."
The man beside her cleared his throat. "You may want to give some thought to moving her to a more secure location. The group she was with could cause trouble."
"Trouble is what I pay you to take care of, Vadek," Galvena snapped.
"Of course," the man agreed, "but, considering what happened to Amerand, I believe that a bit of hazard pay might be in order."
She eyed him coldly. "Forget it; no one touches this little dainty unless they have lots and lots of gold."
"It wasn't her I was speaking of," Vadek replied smoothly. "I was simply wondering if I might have Claire when you're done with her."
She considered it briefly, then nodded. "Agreed. When I'm done with her." Her lips curled into a cruel smile. "I haven't quite finished making her regret defying me; perhaps I should allow our new arrival to watch the disciplinary process."
Aerie stared at her in disgust and horror. How does someone become so vile? How do you learn to love hurting people? She pulled ineffectively at her bonds. I won't let you kill her; I'll stop you – somehow. But how? The ropes were secure; there was no way she could slip out of them. Then she remembered: When I lay down tonight, I kept my boots on. The boots had been a gift from Jessime; cunningly concealed in the outer seam of each one was a narrow, razor sharp blade. The tall warrior had been teaching her the basics of hand to hand fighting, showing her how to defend herself with whatever lay close at hand.
You can never have too many blades, Jess had told her with a grin. Especially when your opponent doesn't know you have them.
The pirates hadn't searched her; the blades were still there. Thirty seconds alone and I can have one of them out. She had been an acrobat in the circus; folding her feet up to her hands would be child's play. Cutting the rope around her wrists would be trickier. But I can do it; I know I can, and when I'm free –
"I really think that we should move her somewhere else," Vadek tried again, "maybe onto one of the ships. They're going to find her gone any time now."
"What of it?" Galvena said dismissively. "It's not the first time you've snatched some tasty little morsel out from under someone's watchful eye. I've got more than a score of armed guards inside and out, and twice that number bunked within shouting distance; they'd have to be crazy to attack this place."
Vadek opened his mouth to reply when he was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass and screams coming from the tavern. There was the sound of splintering wood, and then an enraged bellow rose out of the din:
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY WITCH?"