Sitting and waiting did not suit Borr, Morsa was already late and he was growing impatient. Finally the knocks sounding her arrival came, he raised his hand and the door opened outward. In came a breeze and he knew Morsa was with him. "Put on the cloak and give me your report."

The familiar sight of the cloak rising up and pulling itself over a pair of invisible, slender, shoulders and then the most beautiful woman in his life appeared. She sat down, each time she slid herself into the large chair he had placed just for her it caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.

"Your report?" He enjoyed toying with her, every time she felt she was doing an unsatisfactory job she would get slightly more talkative.

"No one outside the city, no summoners or demons. I could find no trace of summoning activity in the city nor any circles or clearings with traces of wax or inscriptions of circles." The wounds left by her new master's burning bindings ached and stung as she struggled to stop telling the lies.

"Anything interesting? An unusual animal or new face in town that is keeping to himself too often?" Borr leaned in closer, trying to get a good look at her with his blurring eyes, it seemed liked she wasn't graying and the lines on her face stayed constant. For some reason she wasn't aging as quickly as she normally did when forced to come to this stagnant room.

"Nothing out of the usual, the horse is even rotting properly." She had given in to the burn, there was no loyalty to her old master and no reason to suffer because of her old habits of reporting minor details to him.

"Very well, but first come here." Borr pushed the paper he was working on aside and watched as she walked close to him. Once she was seated across he motioned to the cleared area "Place your head there please."

Morsa bowed and placed her head on the wooden table, she felt the old man's fingers separating her hair. "Where did you get these bur-?" The old man was cut off by a large metal rod being shoved into his shoulder. He pushed himself backwards and clutched at his arm, when he removed his hand the wound had sealed and Morsa was gone. 'Well, I guess that explains why she couldn't find any evidence of a summoner.'

She fled the castle, having removed the cloak, and burst out of the walls and into the fresh air. The binding had removed her ability to lazily float from place to place and constrained her to the ground but it allowed her to interact with her environment if she concentrated. Traveling through the city was slightly harder, she kept wanting to fly above the crowd but until her master reworked her contract she was stuck.

Master sat on his bed after sending the barmaid away with his empty food tray. He looked down at his metal finger and tried to flex it but to no avail, it was useless without his new and attractive captive. He smiled "Is it ironic that I keep a woman in my finger? Or is it simply role reversal?"

"Role reversal" the voice in his head rang clear as a bell, better than the growling and grunting that normally came with his demon friends.

"Great, what does ironic mean then?" Master picked at the scab around his finger absent mindlessly, his new pet was such a know it all.

"Something that is highly unexpected happens, like a shield being used to cut off its wearer's head."

"Thanks." Morsa's matter of fact tone was beginning to get irritating and almost caused the smile to fade from his lips. Never stop smiling was his motto, no one can read a smile. Morsa joined him in the room and sat down on the bed beside him. He had told her not to talk out loud to him so she kept quite but became visible, binding had given her that ability.

"Mister do ya need anything else?" The door opened and the barmaid put a bare leg into the room before her head. "Oh, I see ya found some cumpny fer the night." Disappointment was written across her face, she was looking forward to the stranger's generous payment.

"Ya come back in a hour or two ifin ya don't mind." The smile grew slightly as he patted his naked pet on her back. "We'll be done in a mo'" Morsa felt repulsed but stayed still, if her cover was to be as his 'servant' then so be it.

Once the interloper left the room Morsa felt a chill as the metal finger that bound her scraped its way up her physical back. She did not like being able to interact without her consent. The finger pushed into the skin on her neck and wormed its way to her spine before the pain left and she felt the compression as she was drawn back into her prison.