Chapter 17
Voodoo

By the look on Kotal Kahn's face alone, Erron wondered why he hadn't risen from his chair and stormed out of the throne room towards the dungeons. The Emperor wasn't the only one livid by what Hulin had relayed to him. The gunslinger could barely make out the low growl that came from Reptile who stood on the other side of Kotal's throne; his lip curled over his sharp teeth. Ermac, who was usually stoic, also wore a frown of distemper that equaled the Osh-tekk's. Ferra crossed her arms over her chest and huffed angrily by Erron's side, both of them flanking the other end of Kotal's chair. The gunslinger himself also irked by Tanya's crowing boldness.

She was toying with them and Kotal Kahn wasn't in the mood for games. Erron knew that the Osh-Tekk wasn't going to settle for half— despite how clever Tanya thought she was. He wanted Rain to be executed alongside Tanya in the Courtyard—for all the capital to see. The two Edenians and their Tarkatan accomplices had caused quite the surplus of destruction. The citizens of Z'unkahrah wanted their heads on a pike as much as the Kahn and his guards did.

Leniency never even flashed through the Emperor's mind until Hulin informed them that she would trade it for the Hydromancer's location. There was mutual doubt between the guards and Kotal that Tanya had even the slightest inclination to where Rain might be. Yet, at this point she might as well be their cartographer; she would know more about him then they did.

Black turned his head and saw Kotal's knuckles beginning to turn white. After a moment, he flexed his hand and laid his palm flat on the armrest of the throne. Obviously, he was furious over Tanya's proposal, even though he tried to hide it under a callous but detached expression.

"Are you confident that she will not provide Rain's location?" the Kahn questioned the palace torturer.

The mercenary's eyes slid over the Edenian and narrowed at him. Erron could never put his finger on it, but there was something that he did not like about him. He inflicted torture daily and it was understandable there would be some screw loose within the dark cogs that worked his mind. It was different, though. He could see it and funny enough, it reminded him of someone he knew from a long time ago.

"You plucked a life when you were only a youth?"

Black shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. The man who he knew only as Clemmons (he knew that wasn't his real name now). He was the one that offered to show him how to twirl like a true pistoler. Though he wasn't sure why he had the intention to help, it looked as if he was disturbingly jealous.

"I was but 15 when I grabbed my first. Must say you leave me feeling sour."

He heard Abraham's response to when he told him what Clemmons offered.

"Keep a patch of Earth between you and Clemmons. He's the same as a snake oil salesman with even worse a bite. You wanna learn how to spin your irons, go pry to Bill or Mike."

"Bill has taken a likin' to him," his idiotic 12-year-old self-had debated.

"He spun his cannons at Bill before he could dig his out. Don't be a fool because Bill ain't being one. Ole Muskrat has his eyes on that rattlesnake even if he has to give him a ride across the river every now and then."

Abraham had never trusted the young dark-haired cowboy just barely exiting adolescence, seemingly in town to spend his earnings on whores, drinking and gambling like the others in Abilene, Kansas. Abraham was right to have his wariness about him. Granted, he had seen his share of deplorable characters even as a youth, he understood that there were some men that even that Lucifer would send back.

Erron could see that same murky black maliciousness within the Edenian's eyes. There was a perverse temptation, shadowed underneath the masquerade of politeness that concealed how much of a barbarian he really was. He was a sadist, but that was expected from him, considering the career that he practiced. However, there was too much devilish enthusiasm. Needless to say, it was obvious he enjoyed his occupation far too much, just like Clemmons had.

"I could persuade Tanya, but only granted with your approval, my Emperor," Hulin suggested.

Kotal Kahn looked at him with distrust and almost a flicker of disgust in his face. It was obvious that Kotal never liked him, and he was a necessity but one that was walking on a thin patch of ice. He had been in the palace since Mileena had been Kahnum, and Black could tell Kotal wasn't sure keeping him despite swearing his allegiance was the best idea.

He pondered on the idea for a moment like a poker player trying to call a bluff. It was a 50/50 question in the simplest form: Who did Tanya hate more? Kotal Kahn or Rain?

Hulin was declined, and the mercenary could swear he saw the briefest of a defiant and enraged flare in his eyes; even though his face was as still as stone.

Hulin gave a simple nod when the Kahn dismissed him with a wave. As soon as the door to the throne room closed, Kotal tapped his fingers against the armrest in thought, a glower dominant on his face.

"Erron Black. Syzoth," he called.

Immediately both guards stepped forward from their respected spots on the side of Kotal's throne and stood in front. "I want you to proceed to the Kuatan Jungle and resume the old trail. If you do not find him there, continue to the other known locations we know he has been to."

The corner of Erron's lip pulled up in a skeptical manner that didn't go unnoticed by the Kahn. "Something troubles you?"

"With all due respect," the gunslinger began. "Would he backtrack to where he knows we know he's already been? It ain't a move I would do."

"I will not negotiate leniency with Tanya. She will face justice as will her co-conspirator," Kotal bit with a strident tone. "Rain is injured. I suspect he would fall blindly into such a mistake."

Black wasn't ignorant to Kotal's limited options. He believed Tanya's declaration that she would not provide Rain's location if subjugated to torture but would willing to comply if given a pardon— something Kotal was not willing to grant.

He was trying to find a loophole that Erron and Reptile knew was probably going to end up being a waste of time. Black already made his objection to the matter and decided not to continue any further. Opting for shutting his mouth before he angered Kotal more than he already was. They both agreed to the assignment, and the Kahn moved on to the other matter plaguing him.

"Has there been any information on how the Tarkatans were able to get inside the palace walls?" the Kahn questioned.

"The wall of the escape tunnel has been breached," Ermac provided. Kotal Kahn mused over the explanation, but from what Erron could tell, he did not seem surprised by the answer.

"Destroy it," he ordered. "I do not want it to be used against us a second time."

"Do you wish construction of another?" Ermac asked.

Kotal shook his head. Black had to admire his courage to gamble with his life; it was the reason the escape tunnel existed in the first place. Kotal Kahn was no coward, though, would rather turn the palace into an Alamo, than have a weakness exploited to catch them off guard. He would fight his way out if he needed to.

He couldn't blame the decision, especially after hearing the casualties within the walls and outside. The already diminished forces of his legion were even less after the attack on the palace; thanks yet again to rebels. Kotal's goal was to strengthen Outworld's defenses after the Civil War and the scare of Shinnok being released once again. Now that target seemed to be even further out of range.

The only benefit was the slave force hadn't been as heavily hit in the palace despite their inexperience with hand to hand combat. Instead, most of them chose to hide while the battle went on then defend a castle they had no love for. They would be punished for their gutlessness with double the work by repairing the city on top of their duties with the palace.

The prisoners that escaped were being executed in the Courtyard as they spoke. The price for their depravity came at the cost of their executions proceeding ahead of schedule.

There was more talk about what needed to be repaired; what was the highest priority and what they manpower they needed to take care of the tasks. It was boring, and Erron found himself drifting out of the conversation. He glanced over at Ferra, who shuffled her feet in boredom and yawned. Again, he found himself unwillingly drifting back to thoughts about 'Bread Lady.'

Curious, he wondered if she happened to escape the palace after their stand-off in his room. He hadn't seen any sign of her, nor heard anything about any of the servants escaping in the discussion. The sound of the gun's hammer clicking back rang through his memory like the chime of a clock. If she was that determined to kill him, he figured she was just as committed to getting out.

He would never see her again, and it was probably the best thing for her. It certainly did nothing to help ease the unsettling waves of guilt the sloshed back and forth inside of him. Black had no more fight inside to keep them away. He was at fault, and there would never be a way to reconstruct his ego after what he knew he did.

Erron was responsible for her destitute. He had pushed and crippled her previous identity, one that he realized hadn't deserved the animosity. He knew the feeling— it was how he ended up in Outworld. The realm was such a perfect place to hide and store broken things. Then again, so was Earthrealm when he used to live there.

Kansas. Took him forever to remember the place where he lost his mother, and the territory he tracked with Abraham trying to find his father. That was when he first saw the good character of a man leave and interchanged with a doppelganger; a false, despondent replacement for what someone used to be. He came to the conclusion that he had seen this same thing happen to four people he knew.

The first was Abraham. The other was Bill when he shot his best friend. His downfall was as rapid as a landslide; word was he never was able to pull himself free of the manacles of the anguish for his mistake. The third was her and it almost felt like a reflection in a mirror of the fourth. The fourth…

He shook the thoughts from his head, blinking back the unpleasant memories of Earthrealm and his lamentable action that brought him here. He refused to sink into the tar of his grief for that mistake. It was done and he was here. His tribulations were in the past, and he didn't need to bring them up. He moved on; kept trekking through the harsh desert that was his life as he had always done. He hadn't made a habit of looking back since it was useless and didn't want to start now even if he did feel liable.

He wasn't the heartless creature she claimed him to be. Hardened a better word perhaps, and certainly not someone who had time to feel remorseful every goddamn minute of the day. Still, her allegation of what she claimed sat like a bitter aftertaste.

It wasn't like before when his ego demanded that he had the last word in their altercations. It was the simple realization that he needed to have the last laugh no matter how despicable his action was. She was right and, in the end, they were both losers because they had managed to corrupt each other. She referred to him as a thing; an unapologetic, heartless thing. Almost as if it was a challenge—at least, he preferred to look at it that way.

When did he stop being human?

The question to himself was like offering his hand to a rattlesnake to bite him. He was inviting those damn truths he forgotten, and he knew the moment he allowed them in, they would take root like a poison like they did then.

Did he truly want to risk what he worked hard to forget, just so he could have a reprieve of the remorse he felt over someone he didn't even know the name of?

It isn't for her. It shouldn't be for her. Especially since you don't know who 'her' is.

"Who does she remind you of?"

Nobody old man. Nobody...

Why did that sound like a lie?

The meeting was dismissed, and he only realized it when he felt the Zaterran's hand nudge him in the shoulder. He gave a nod towards the Emperor, following the rest of the guards as they walked out of the chamber one by one.

The gunslinger was about to turn in the direction of his still uprooted room when he felt someone tug at the end of his poncho. His blue eyes greeted Ferra's red ones and she gave a forceful nod towards him.

"You see Bread Lady?" she inquired with a demanding tone. "Torr want sweet bread!"

That was the second time Ferra reminded him of her, and he tugged harshly at his poncho; ripping it from Ferra's grasp. The symbiote seemed unaffected by his action, and he turned his back. "She's gone, Ferra. Forget her and leave it to die."

He stormed ahead but could sense the silent disappointment from Ferra even though he couldn't see it. Ferra was too simple-minded to notice. However, that statement was a double-sided coin; he was referring to two things and answering it the same. Something personal that was trying to rear it's ugly head in the vision of a pretty face. A face he had spent decades trying to scrub from the canvas in the gallery of paintings of his acquaintances hanging in his mind. It was deformed, but he could still see green eyes.

"Who does she remind you of?"

There were two women in his forgotten, Earthrealm life that she did, and he rather not compare her to either.

He flexed his hand, moving the joints before he balled it into a fist.

Erron Black could feel the teeth of the rattler graze the flesh of his palm, but he was faster to pull his hand out of reach.

Bao stormed out of his mother's room, his heated scoff the only answer his mother would receive from her request; but they know he would do it regardless. Not only had they just discovered that Bert was dead, but Norah had been imprisoned. There was a pang of pride when his mother had told him that Norah had demanded her contract from his mother. She was brave and knew that the Baker had it in her somewhere, but what made him frown was his mother's stab wound.

That was worrisome. Not because he feared for Norah's mental well-being or that his mother was injured (she deserved it) but because Norah was unaware of the deplorable nature his mother was capable of. She enjoyed being the manipulator and anyone that challenged her authority paid severe consequences— he knew that lesson all too well. Imprisonment without food was nothing compared to what she could prepare for Norah if she truly crossed her.

He waited for Hulin, his escort according to his mother's words. Bao was somewhat surprised that the torturer had volunteered instead of his mother using one of the guards in her pocket to make sure Bao did not say anything suspicious.

It unnerved Bao and it only caused him to be more on guard. Especially when he finally arrived and hovered at the kitchen door while Bao placed the closed canisters of water in the cloth bag. Hulin had no objection and instead gave a small smirk when Bao looked him in the eye and did it.

He folded the bandages and turned his gaze away even though he felt Hulin's dark eyes upon him.

Bao never liked Hulin even before he had become a cup-bearer. He had heard the rumors of his perversions and Bao felt trepidation for his friend in the cell. The cells were Hulin's hunting ground and his sudden interest in Norah's cell was alarming. He didn't object to Bao sneaking in the water and bread that he saw, and it only caused him to feel more concerned about her.

Hulin was not a fan of skin and bones.

He wasn't sure what the narcissist looked to accomplish. He knew well enough he could not touch Norah just as Tama couldn't kill her. She was valuable to Tama and Hulin wasn't brash enough to anger his estranged friend.

Bao looked at him once more and frowned.

At least, I hope not.

Abigail walked into the room and flinched away when she saw Hulin standing in the kitchen. The older woman didn't make eye contact, and it saddened Bao to see the look of utmost horror flash on her face.

Abigail had every reason to. Hulin was the one that cut her tongue out.

She approached Bao and handed over a familiar object he had seen Norah with in the kitchen.

Carver's book.

He wasn't even aware that Norah had given it to Abigail to borrow and without Carver in the room to confirm, it was the only assumption he could make. Without even making eye contact with Bao, she placed the book inside the gray cloth sack.

He reached in to remove the book but felt her grab his wrist and looked him sternly in the eyes. Bao understood the look completely as if she was shouting it at him.

You will give her the book.

He minutely shook his head at her. No, Abigail. Tama will hurt you.

Her eyes softened, glistening with desperate affinity. There was a reason Abigail wanted to give Norah the book and he was aware both understood the Earthrealm language. Her weathered hands gave him a tender squeeze and Bao could not agree with her wishes.

Abigail was trying to get herself killed, and he could not support it.

The cup-bearer's eyebrows shot up in alarm when Hulin approached. She shuffled away as he snatched the book.

"A gift?" he asked, his attention directly on Abigail as if she were an odious animal.

He flipped through the pages, using his thumb to fly over them. He scoured for anything that would seem odd, despite not knowing the language. He stopped at one page in particular in the middle of the book.

He flipped it around and turned the book upside down. With a finger, he tapped on the scribbling at the top of the page.

"Passing along messages, Abigail?" he accused. He shook his head and clicked his tongue at her as if she were a disobedient child.

Bao stepped in front of Abigail, blocking Hulin's unpleasant and amused disposition he used to belittle the older woman with. "It is Carver's handwriting. He writes in his book sometimes. Look over the other pages and see for yourself."

Hulin glowered at Tama's son but did as proposed. It was true; Carver did write in the book; he had seen it himself. Abigail had written something in the book; Bao knew it was the only reason she was so adamant about him giving it to Norah. He tried not to betray himself in front of the Edenian, but he could feel his heart tearing in two even as Abigail held his wrist, stroking her thumb along his skin in comfort.

How could she do this? He liked Norah as well, but how could Abigail be so selfish. She knew Tama would find out about whatever message she concealed in the book, and Bao knew what she had written without having to be told.

Despite how doleful and furious he was with Abigail, he had to admire her bravery. The quality that had been snuffed out by his mother for so many years resurfaced for the first time in decades. His mother had tortured Abigail since the day her tongue was removed, and Bao had to watch over the years as the woman's confidence sank into depression. For the last couple of years, Bao had thought the strong, gutsy girl he knew had been lost forever. He felt remorse for thinking so little of her.

Why now?

Bao exchanged a look with Abigail as Hulin kept his attention on the book. She returned his crestfallen expression before her hand left his wrist and cupped his cheek.

Why? he beseeched silently, blinking back the tears threating to spill over the rim of his eyes. Abigail understood his mournful silent probe and removed her hand and placed it on her chest.

She closed her eyes, shook her head and patted her chest. Hulin's eyes danced briefly over at them before fixing back on the book.

Bao closed his eyes in dismay and after a long sigh nodded his head in bitter agreement.

I do not want her to become me.

"I do not see a problem, although I will have to inform your mother of this," Hulin grinned as he held up the book. Abigail noticeably shivered but composed herself and exhaled. Terror was still present on her face and on Bao's as well, but he nodded at Hulin.

"Yes, I am sure you will tell my mother," Bao fumed with a dead tone. Hulin blinked his eyes with an unimpressed disposition at his barb.

"Let us see dear Norah, then," the Edenian prompted as he handed the book back to Bao. He snatched it unkindly from Hulin and stuffed it in the bag, flashing the man with a disgusted snarl.

Hulin led them out of the kitchen and Bao looked back at Abigail, who bowed her head, trying to reassure him.

He felt nothing but unrelenting anguish as he rubbed his thumb over the jade ring on his finger.

In her cell, uncertain of the number of days, Norah held her forehead in her palms and rested her elbows on her crooked knees. She knew that Tama wouldn't let her starve to death. Still, the dry leather piece of meat inside her mouth hoped Tama hadn't forgotten that she could die sooner from thirst.

She wasn't alone in her cell; she had voices coming from her growling stomach, the blinding headache and the cry for water that added more troublesome pain to her complaining body.

It did not help that Tanya was humming cheerily to herself across the hall. Her leg must have gotten better because every so often she would hear her heels click against the stone. Sometimes she would hear her grunt and hiss in pain. Her injuries were still present, but for the most part, Tanya was healing quicker than Norah was.

An Edenian gift that she wished she had to rid herself of the throbbing ache coming from her shoulder. Edenians typically healed faster than most Outworlders, which also contributed to their long lives. Even with the cobalt cuffs — used mostly to suppress her pyromancy— she could already see the bruises fading on her otherwise flawless and smug face.

Tanya quit humming the same moment that Norah's eyes locked on her cell door when she heard the door to the dungeon open.

She was almost pleased to see who walked through the door of her cell until she saw who was accompanying him. Her face fell into a stoic disposition when she saw the sight of Hulin at the door. Her eyes never left him even as Bao came over with supplies towards her. He kneeled next to her and tried to grab her attention from where she sat with a weak and brief smile.

A small show of wickedness journeyed its way across Hulin's face in the form of a friendly smile. Their eyes, unfortunately, gave them both away. Despite that she returned the smile, she betrayed herself by showing fear towards him. Norah was only aware that she gave herself away was when she saw the acidic look in his eyes. Almost as if displeased that his attempt to convey friendship fell flat… and that she still believed Tanya's words so firmly.

"Finish quickly," was all that he remarked, directed at Bao before he closed the door behind him.

Even though the door swung softly on its hinges, she still jumped slightly as soon as it closed. She could still see the back of his head through the bars on the window. He was listening even though his eyes were elsewhere.

"By the Gods, Norah. What did you do?" Bao asked, his voice heavy with concern and dread, and she could sense that he wasn't referring to her dirty state. He unraveled the cloth sack he carried, but her eyes remained fixed on the back of Hulin's head.

The baker didn't answer Bao's question not because she didn't care, she was simply too exhausted, livid, thirsty and hungry to give her strength away to answer him. A cup came into eye view. He unscrewed the lid and presented it to her, and Norah looked down to see a welcomed sight.

Water.

She immediately snatched it from his hands and greedily sucked it down. It wasn't much, but it was enough to coat the dryness in her mouth. Bao also lifted a small biscuit and handed it to her. It was hard and stale, but it was the last thing on her mind. Crumbs spilled over her and sank into her V-neck blouse as she chewed it apart like a ravenous animal.

Bao didn't say anything, and she slowed when she noticed the other cup of water and the bandages. Norah chewed slowly and gave her friend a mistrustful look. She placed the other half of the biscuit on the ground and stared intently at him.

"Did you come here to feed me or because Tama does not want my shoulder to scar?" she accusingly spat at him. Her eyes as sharp as needles. They poked holes into him when she said that, and she saw him wince. It was how she knew it was the latter.

"You did not answer my question," he pointed out, almost as if it was a shot right back at her. It was a weak retort, and she did not feel it sting at all.

Bao's brown eyes looked at her sadly, and hesitantly, he waited for permission to touch her which she granted with a simple nod. Timidly, he dipped the cloth in the water and started to clean her wound with the same fearful effort. It stung, and she hissed in pain; the water was laced with something that made it burn more than it should.

Norah stared at him for the longest time with a stony expression she could see him cowering under. There was a tension in the air that swirled around Bao as tight as a drum. It didn't take Norah long to understand another opinion about her had seeped its way into Bao's perspective of her. Most likely told from his mother; someone he claimed he didn't trust. Ironically, almost in the same manner she felt towards Hulin.

As soon as the wound was cleaned, he began to cover it with the bandage; delicately wrapping it up and under her shoulder and arm pit.

"I am worried about you," he admitted with a dejected sigh. "I fear what my mother will do. You should not have attacked her."

"What does she want with me?" Norah questioned bluntly.

Bao stiffened at the question, and it was all that Norah needed to understand that he might know, but would not relate it to her. Any clue would have been valuable, but he purposely withheld it. She stared at him with heated suspicion not usually reserved for someone she considered a friend.

"I have my theories, but I hope they are wrong. Tell me, Bao. Please," she implored.

Bao looked at her with the utmost heartbroken sympathy and Norah immediately felt her eyes narrow at the look. She was begging him, and he could only stare at her like a beaten animal that he selfishly walked by without aid.

"I…I can not. I can not tell you," Bao confessed.

"Why?! Why are you so afraid of her?" Norah shouted. She couldn't help it. His cowardice frustrated her, and she was exasperated with the truth being kept and tired of the games: the debt bond and all the effort to get her here. The Marking and why she needed to be a part of it. The looks of animosity she saw in the evil woman's eyes when she looked at her. She was mentally fatigued of trying to answer the riddle, even more so since she had been sent to the dungeon. Why did the woman want her?!

"My mother… she is a monster…I know that…" Bao confessed. "You must understand I did not know what she was capable of until…" He faltered, sucking in a frightful breath. Looking as if he recalled some unpleasant memory. "She has taken much from me as well, Norah. I cannot risk her taking the thing I have left. I…I am sorry."

Norah glared ruthlessly at him and shook her head. She felt air escape in heated puffs out her nose as her chest rose and fell with each failed attempt to stall her anger. It exploded, and she felt her good hand strike his face with a piercing slap.

He hung his head in sadness as his cheek turned crimson from her handprint. He knew that slap was enough information for him to know that their friendship was severed.

She turned her face away from him; the sight of him sickened her. "Thank you for the water and food, now get out. Tell your monster I will be her slave no more. I would rather starve than spend another day under her servitude as her baker."

In the corner of her eye she saw Hulin dip his head towards them; obviously interested in what she said. She scowled in his direction.

Bao let out a shaky sigh. "Norah…"

"Leave, Bao!"

For a moment, he looked as if she had struck him a second time, and Norah considered it until he gathered up his things and walked away from her.

He stopped before he reached the door and with a disheartened sigh, he fished inside the sack and pulled out another item. Firmly, he grabbed her wrist and shoved Carver's book in her hand.

"This is from Abigail," Bao told her with a direct and piercing tone. "I hope it can be useful while you are in here."

Norah gave him a perplexed look but accepted it, especially when he nudged it harder at her. His eyes keenly bore into hers, as if they were screaming at her to accept the book. It was a frightful and determined stare. It reminded her of his advice before her first day as a cup-bearer.

Despite the rejection she just gave him, she took the book and settled it on her lap as he left. Despite the present, she still angrily watched as he left her cell defeated. Hulin opened the door for him and smiled at how dispirited he seemed as he left. The Edenian glanced over at her for a moment, gave a polite bow of his head and locked the door behind him.

"That went well," derided Tanya in the other cell. "A lover's quarrel?"

Norah growled and curled her knees to her chest. "It is none of your concern."

"I'm fully aware it isn't, but it gets rather boring in here. You are the only entertainment I have," the pyromancer sighed.

Norah ignored her and picked up the round biscuit discarded off to the side. In truth, the gift giver made it look even more unappetizing, but her hunger silenced her stubbornness. She opened her mouth to take a bite before she was interrupted.

"I thought you would rather starve?" Tanya reminded. "At least, you sounded passionate about it. If not, I would not mind the other half."

Norah let out a sigh heavy with annoyance. She glanced down at the half-eaten piece of bread and then at the bars of her cell in Tanya's direction. In truth, she would rather see the Edenian die of hunger rather than herself. However, after a moment of considering that she had something Tanya wanted, perhaps she could get her answers another way.

She stood to her feet and shambled her way towards the cell door with the bread in hand. For some reason, it did not surprise her that Tanya was already waiting for her. The female Edenian tilted her head at her with a smirk decorated on her face that caused Norah to want to vomit. She felt like a puppet.

"What do you know about Tama?" Norah asked. Honestly, she did not expect Tanya to know who that was, but it was worth the attempt while she still had leverage.

Tanya rolled her eyes at her. "Who?"

She was right, and Norah took a bite into the biscuit in plain view. Tanya pursed her lips in irritation at her display. "Do you really think I know everyone's dirty little secrets?"

"You know Hulin's," she argued. "Is what you said true? What else should I be concerned of with him?"

"I'll tell you for the price of a slice of bread," Tanya cooed, her yellow and blue bruised face pulling into a persuasive grin.

Norah knew that she would most likely refrain from telling her anything; that it was just a ploy to get the bread. However, Norah was also aware that Tama wouldn't let her starve to death in the cell. She meant to punish her not kill her. Tama still had some motive for forcing her into slavery. It was the only reason she reached through the bars with the half-eaten bread in her hand.

Tanya's brown eyes gleamed with a pompous victory as she copied Norah and reached her manacled hands through the bars. With a hand outstretched and the chains of the irons clinking against the bars, Norah tossed it in her direction that Tanya caught easily.

The irons scraped against the wood of the door; the sound harsh on her ears. Norah watched her toss the bread in the air, catch it and take a bite as if it were a piece of fruit. She gave a small chuckle as she chewed.

"My advice to you, little mouse," Tanya began with a priggish beam. "If you can take advantage of someone. Do it."

"I expected it from you. It will be the last of my scraps you receive," Norah retorted back with a blasé tone.

Tanya quirked an eyebrow in her direction. "The little mouse has a little bit of bite after all. I just figured you were just accustomed with being used by everyone."

The Edenian's words made her bristle with enmity. She grabbed the bars of her cell; her knuckles turning white as she seethed through her teeth: "I have never been used to it."

Tanya took another bite of the bread. "Then why do you let them? It is rather pitiful that you allow it despite how you say you hate it so much. Are you masochistic about it? Perhaps you like the attention of playing the victim."

Norah grounded her teeth and felt pain in her shoulder as she held the bars tighter. Wishing that the metal bars were Tanya's throat she was squeezing. "You do not know anything about my situation."

"I know that you are a cup-bearer for Kotal Kahn and his guards," Tanya smirked. "That is how you know Hulin. You shouldn't have used your branded hand to toss me the bread."

The Traitor nodded towards her hand, and Norah pulled it away; hiding the brand with the shield of the door. The Edenian continued, rolling the bread playfully in her hands as she continued. Her eyes on the loaf but a grin spreading on her face.

"I also gather that you are a slave for your employer Tama, which is why you asked me about her first. I take it she is a bigot towards your kind? Do not worry. I do not find your presence as appalling as she does although I am not an admirer of Earthrealmers, myself."

Norah bit the bottom of her lip; a flourish of angry defeat coursing through her veins. Was Tanya going to listen to all of her conversations?

"You told Hulin that you demanded your freedom from her, which could only mean that you allowed yourself to become a slave in the first place. Most slaves wouldn't have the idiocy to confront their masters unless you wish to be beheaded. You are at least smart enough to take advantage of the fact that despite her resentment towards your kind, there is something she wants and you know it."

Tanya flashed her with a knowing smile. "You already know what she wants from you, don't you, little mouse? I can see it eating at you all over your pretty, little Earthrealm face."

The cup-bearer stared at Tanya. Even without giving her answer, Tanya could confirm that she was right. She was right about every bit she had said. It was strange to hear this observation from another source - especially one that she did not trust. It called to her like a song, leading her to her doom. There was no way to prove Tanya wrong. It aggravated her that she had been correct. Every word she spoke was the truth, and Norah had to disgracefully agree with the Edenian traitor.

"You are ashamed that you enslaved yourself by your poor decisions," She gave a small shrug. "You should be."

"I hope you choke on that bread," Norah venomously whispered. Her lips quivering in rage.

She hadn't tried for Tanya to hear it, but she did and looked at her with a blank expression. "Acting a little childish, aren't we? I must have stabbed too close?"

"You know nothing about me," Norah objected with a firm shake of her head.

Tanya finished eating the bread and one by one, sucked her fingers clean loudly. Each time she did was like a hammer nailing in more irritation through the Baker; it was purposeful and annoying. Her irons clanked together as she rested her chin in her palm and tilted her head

The Edenian 'tsked' at her, stroked her chin and stated: "I know that you will lose."

"Just as you have?" Norah shot back quickly.

Tanya let out a small, haughty laugh. "You are not a failure until you are dead. Setbacks are always temporary. You just have to be smart and trample who is in your way. It will get easier don't worry. Soon, it won't even cross your mind."

"To what? To be friendless and despised?" Norah scolded.

She sighed, almost as if she had told her a phrase that she had heard many times and had worn out its power long ago. She looked at her nails, examining them before shrugging at Norah. "I am loyal to myself. That is why you allow yourself to be used. You have yet to make the right decision."

"And what is the right decision?" The Outworlder challenged.

During their entire conversation, Tanya never seemed to falter or let her know that she was ever offended by anything she said. Nothing appeared to sway her. Norah couldn't help but feel like a failure and yet devoted to prove her wrong. She didn't want to fall victim to her apostate philosophy, that it was best just to ignore her altogether. Yet, she was still interested in what Tanya's answer would be. Tanya knew that as well.

"To be indifferent," she informed her. "If you can be, you might be able to burrow your way out of the trap you walked willingly into— and do not pretend you don't know what I'm referring to."

She did; there was no way to refute it. Norah wasn't blind to the possibility that her contract could be sold to someone willing to buy it. The bit in the contract hadn't escaped her notice, and it was the paragraph that made her feel the greatest anxiety.

If indebted is engaged to wed during their time of service…indebted's husband or wife may choose to buy contract…

Her thoughts went to the unimpressive, but somber omen she should have paid closer attention to.

Méh-è.

Tama sold her contract to a man that impregnated her. Her betrothed. Norah still remembered how angry she was at Méh-è for becoming pregnant in the first place. It was a mistake, and Norah remembered how harshly she punished the girl for her blunder.

Méh-è was naïve, and the Baker could have seen her pregnant at a young age. She would have been enchanted out of her maidenhood by the right persuasive words — in Tama's servitude or not. Perhaps… that was what happened and that was the appeal of having her. The girl had no other skills it seemed from the chatter Norah had heard. Méh-è just escalated Tama's intention for her, and Norah doubted the ex-slave girl had any idea that she did.

"Has a man coated his... virility in your blood yet? "

Norah's eyes hardened at Tanya; turning into ice at her smug, knowing expression. "That is no concern to you!" Norah hissed at her.

"No, you're right. It's not," Tanya said with a contemptuous wave of her hand, "but it should be yours. I heard exotic whores are worth more if they haven't been spoiled first."

Tanya laughed as her eyes gazed at her. "Your Tama is going to make quite the profit from your virginity. You're really not that ugly for an Earthrealm prostitute."

Norah's hands gripped the bars tighter but felt her rebuttal die in her mouth; the only thing escaping was an angry grunt. She managed to blink back the tears that had started to form. Giving Tanya one last irate stare, she stormed away from the door and turned her back to her fellow cellmate. She heard a small arrogant chuckle behind her before she heard her heels click; doing the same as Norah.

For the longest time, all she had was a weak speculation of what Tama had wanted from her and never arrived at it until after the Marking. She was the only one without a finger missing, even her own son underwent it, and she always wondered why.

The gift of the bracelet, something valuable to cover the brand stamped on her wrist. It wasn't a gift or a subtle remark of malice— it was so she could hide it. The desire to have her in such a position was also unusual. Why was Tama so adamant about it? Perhaps it was something she had planned for the future that Norah hadn't stumbled upon yet.

The attention drawn to her shoulder and why Bao had come into the attend to it. She was angered that her employee had been stabbed, not because she was concerned about her welfare, but because the scar that would be unsightly to a critical eye. She was worth less if she looked damage.

Tanya's agreement about it only made it worse, because not only did she agree with the Pyromancer, but she had deciphered her employer's real motivations so plainly. It was an affirmation, and no longer just a horrifying conjecture conceived just by Norah's pessimism. Bao's reluctance and secrecy was also more evidence. He wasn't protecting his mother, he was protecting whatever his treasured assist was. Tama wanted the truth concealed from Norah as she did with Méh-è and how many other girls succumbed to Tama's tricks.

Abigail… Bert…Carver…Bao...

They must of all known as well. They must have!

They could have warned her but they also must have been under repression. This could have been avoided if someone had just cared enough. Just one person to have confided!

None of them had.

She felt a painful swelling inside of her chest, feeling as if it was threatening to burst. It was painful and it caused another tear to roll down her cheek and a strained gasp to escape. She felt sick but most of all, she felt completely and utterly betrayed.

She swore she heard the bones in her jaw crack. She wouldn't have been surprised. The pressure she felt was enough to break bone from how hard she pressed her teeth down on each other. She was unbelievably furious and frankly, she was tired of feeling that poison emotion. It was all she felt! She was tired of all this manipulation. Tired of her nerves being lit on fire with rage from Tama and Erron Black, but mostly with herself.

A hot tear ran down her face; burning against the already torrid redness that engulfed every inch of her skin; coming from the ire coals smoldering in the pit of her stomach.

She slid her back against the wall and sulked on the ground. Her bottom hit something, and she lifted herself and dug under to remove it.

Carver's book.

At first, she wanted nothing more than to throw it across the cell and watch it bounce against the wall— she even had her arm poised over her head.

"This is from Abigail. I hope it can be useful while you are in here…"

Bao's strange statement was the only reason she sighed and turned the book open. There was no interest in it, and she did not even know what she was supposed to be searching for. In all honesty, she did not even want to hold the book just because Norah was acrimonious about its owner.

She went to the end of the book, growing impatient until her eyes caught the sight of one word that was inked on the page.

Whore

It was written small and delicate, almost on top of the lines of the text; she was surprised she even noticed it. At first, she felt slightly offended but then realized that Abigail would never call her something as crude. Despite being mute, she knew the older woman didn't have a mean bone in her body. Carver would never absently write that as well. She noticed his notes in the book and most of them were positive poetic nonsense.

Her heart stopped dead in her chest. Norah was also certain if she could see her reflection, the color from her face would have disappeared as she read the scene on the page. It filled her with even more indignation and horror.

Bilbo Baggins had returned from his adventure to find his possessions being auctioned.

She was certain the choosing of the page was no coincidence. Abigail had done it purposely.

Her lip trembled at the truth as she felt every drop of blood coursing through her body boil. She had been wrong; someone was courageous enough to tell her the reality of her situation, after all. It did little to comfort her. In fact, she gripped the book so tightly she felt her fingers go numb from the pressure. She let out a flustered loud and outraged scream.

The daunting weight of the truth inscribed for her to see. Finally, there was something to solidify her worst nightmare, and it made her sick.

She had been right.

She was to be sold as a whore to some rich, disgusting buffoon of Tama's choosing.

She ripped the book apart in rage, cutting her fingers on the pages as she pulled page by page; imaging the worn smelly paper was Tama's face. Tears streamed down her face; hot and furious as she dropped the book. Gripping several crumpled pieces of paper in her fists, she placed her closed hands by the side of her head. Another livid scream escaped from her; muffled as she tucked her chin to her chest.

Extreme malice and determination ran through her. Norah had prayed to the Elder Gods she had been wrong, and they punished her for assuming correctly.

She would be an object. Whoever purchased her contract would rip her every night without remorse. Raped to whoever purchased her contract. Like Méh-è and perhaps for Abigail as well who avoided that fate.

Hope.

There was a way to beat Tama and Abigail had discovered it— perhaps at the cost of her silence. If Abigail could do it, so could she.

Norah wiped the embittered tears that feel from her eyes with a stormy conviction. She shook her head. This would not happen to her! She may have moronically fell into her hands— but no longer! Norah would not become what Tama wanted of her!

She would be nobody's slave.

Nobody's whore.

She would be nobody's.

Perhaps Tanya had a point, despite how weightless the words of a traitor should be to her.

If she did not want to lose, she had to be smarter, and that would mean doing things that teetered between the eccentric and extreme. She couldn't afford to be held down by the restraints she had forged herself. It was time to find the key and do whatever was necessary for her to get it.

Whatever was necessary.

"Has a man coated his… virility in your blood yet? "

Norah knew what she was referring to even though she was untouched. She had hears stories that the first experience hurt and usually caused bleeding. It always deterred Norah away from the act. There had been times she could have laid with a man. Some had been interested in her despite her appearance as a non-Outworlder, but the idea never agreed with her even if she was in the mood. Most of the men were repulsive to look at.

Norah looked down at the crumpled pieces of paper in her hand, the battered pages digging into her palms. Staring at them for the longest time, a repugnant thought crossed her mind.

"I've heard exotic whores are worth more if they haven't been spoiled first."

"Your Tama is going to make quite the profit from your virginity. You're really not that ugly for an Earthrealm prostitute."

Whatever was necessary…

With a reluctant sigh leaving her, she rolled the paper until it resembled a deformed phallus, but it was far too thin and would bend. The cup-bearer grabbed the book, ripped more pages and rolled it around the tube she assembled. The larger it became, the more apprehension she felt. Her temper quelled it when she reminded herself of the reason she had to do this.

If Tama purchased her the prospect of selling her virginity, Norah would deny it from her.

As soon as she was confident about the size of the paper, she began to roughly bunch up her skirt. With the fabric over the top of her thighs, she spread her thighs apart and pulled down the cloth over her crotch; exposing her sex to the air.

She didn't move, afraid of the idea to mutilate herself. It scared her and winced at the thought of the pain that it would bring, especially since it was unnatural. The thought of bleeding to death crossed her mind, but she considered that perhaps too absurd. She would be careful.

After contemplating it, she considered no other option that would be as sweet as this morbid revenge. A smirk grew on her face as she thought about the Tama when she saw her virtue stained on the inside of her legs. How it would ruin the monetary gain she had so desired to use her for. After all, that woman had done, what she constructed to do to her, Norah wanted to see Tama fail. Just. One. Time.

She placed the point of the crumpled paper against herself with a morose elation. Tama would be furious. She would beat her for this. Lock her in the dungeon for even longer. Maybe cut out her tongue as well.

Norah didn't care about any of it.

One time would be all she would need.

Hulin waited a day before he delivered his news to Tama. If he had to describe the expression on her face, he could only find himself comparing her to one of those large feline mounts when they saw another creature of their gender taking their food. He knew this would be her reaction when he told her about her quiet servant Abigail and her gift to Norah.

The frenetic rancor that graced her face made her look abominably hideous. Hulin had told her that it would lead to more wrinkles if she continued to display such aggressive behavior.

Still wearing her morning garments that consisted of a long black silk shirt, matching baggy pants and slippers as she marched out of her room. He smiled to himself and followed behind with his hands clasped behind his back.

This would be an entertaining day it would seem.

"You allowed this!" she blamed with a furious tone.

"I did not perceive how strongly you would object to such a simple item," Hulin lied with a flat tone.

"You know I do not trust that old whore," Tama malignantly reminded.

The torturer rolled his eyes. Yes. Yes, he did know how much she hated Abigail.

He stretched his legs to match her quick pace. Even though she was shorter than him, he had to admit he was having difficulty keeping up with her. It was quite amusing to see her so annoyed over such a frivolous thing, but perhaps that was because of how detached he was to how Tama felt.

He did not care for her as well. Their closeness was based on necessity from the both of them. She supplied him with slaves she no longer enjoyed or ones that angered her, and he returned the favor by aiding her when she needed. They had a beneficial relationship with each other.

Hulin was no fool though, and hoped the goal he designed would come to fruition. Norah had insulted him thanks to Tanya. In truth, he understood that the girl was always hesitant around him and he enjoyed how nervous she was; it made for better prey.

In the cell however, she knew his game and he did not agree with that at all. He wanted his victims anxious and ignorant. It provided him with more satisfaction.

He knew that Abigail most likely warned her about what she was to become when Tama found a wealthy suitor. Hulin smirked as they approached the dungeons closer. Now that Norah knew, he suspected that the stubborn girl would do everything in her power to avoid Tama's arrangement. She would be concerned with that and not so much on him. He laughed inwardly to himself. Perhaps Tama would grow so agitated with her that she would sell her to Hulin for a low price.

He never had to purchase one yet, but the fact that she knew about his nature made the thought more enticing. He wondered under that Earthrealm complexion there was the structure of an Outworlder after all. He rubbed his fingers in anticipation of discovering if the meat was different… and if it tasted different as well.

Hulin opened the door in a gentleman fashion for Tama that she didn't thank. Instead, she snatched the ring of keys from Hulin; the sound causing Tanya to approach the door.

The Edenians looked at each other with identical expressions of engrossment as Hulin followed Tama into the cell to see Norah already on her feet.

The book that had been given to her laid in a shredded mess all over the cobblestones of the prison room. At first, he though it nothing more than the aftermath of a temper tantrum until he saw what Norah held in her hand.

There was an ardent arrogance about Norah, especially when she stared only at Tama and the side of her mouth pulled up in a nefarious smirk. It only made Tama fume even more when she saw the rolled up collection of pages with blood coated over half of it; her hand was also soaked in dried blood as well.

"What did you do!" Tama shrieked. Her voice pierced his ears, and he was certain the Kahn could have heard that all the way from his throne room.

With her stringy and dirty hair framing and gripping her face, she tossed the rolled up sheets at Tama's feet with a winner's gloat.

"You bought me for my purity, yes? There it is."

Hulin heard Tanya suppressing her laughter behind him and failing miserably. He had to agree with his fellow Edenian; it was delightful to see Tama in such a state of shock, repulsion and furor. The look of gratification on Norah's face made it even more comical. He could never recall Tama ever losing and he always somewhat admired that about the older woman, yet to see her such a sore loser removed any admiration he had and instead replaced it ineffable satisfaction.

"I will have your head for this!"

The woman raised a hand to the young servant girl, preparing to strike her across the face..

His eyebrows rose up in when Norah caught her wrist and crushed it.

Her eyes narrowed into embers of fire as she scowled at her employer. "What is the matter? Isn't it what you wanted from me all along? I just gave it to you free!"

With a hard shove, she threw Tama off balance as she released her wrist. The older woman snarled, reaching out and abruptly grabbed a chunk of hair on top of her head; dragging her out of the cell. Much to his surprise, the only fight that Norah returned was grabbing the top of Tama's hands so she didn't rip her hair from her scalp.

Tama flashed an outraged glare in Hulin's direction. "Bring me that old whore!" she ordered. "I will do what I should have done long ago."

With Norah's hair as a leash, she dragged the girl roughly out of the cell with her following behind. Hulin swore he still saw a large grin on Norah's face as they disappeared through the door.

He felt eyes on him and heard a feminine giggle muffled under a hand. Hulin turned towards Tanya and raised an eyebrow. "Was that your suggestion?"

"No," Tanya chuckled. "She thought of that all by herself. I was wondering what she was doing in there. Although I suppose I am somewhat to blame."

Hulin gave a dismissive shrug at Tanya's proud allegation before he gave his back to her and left the dungeon to fetch Abigail.

Erron and Reptile, who were on their way towards the exit of the palace, came across a befuddling sight. At least, to the Zaterran it was, to Black it might as well have been a punch to the gut.

Tama dragged the girl who he thought had escaped embarrassingly down the corridors by her hair. The look on the older woman's face was unnerving. In short, she was completely vehement, and she didn't do anything to hide the fact.

She pulled the girl, yanking her by the hair to force her to keep up with her heated strides. Black grimaced at her battered and dirty state, resembling a mangy dog. The cup-bearer didn't notice them nor did she do anything to fight against Tama's scornful treatment of her.

He did notice that she was limping, and the hand she had over Tama's wrist was covered in blood. Reluctantly, and ignoring Reptile who questioned his sudden walk towards the two, he approached Tama and stopped the woman in her tracks.

"Is there a problem, here?" he challenged, blocking her path as he placed his hands on his hips; naturally resting over his guns. The older self he knew ridiculed him for once again getting into affairs that nothing to do with him; reprimanding him at the back of his mind. He quieted the voice when he saw that she was still in the palace and felt his guilt bite at him. He ignored her when she was in trouble once, and he was determined not to make a repeat of what he did. He would prove the girl wrong about him if it helped shut up his nagging disgrace.

Tama bared her teeth at the mercenary. "Get out of my way, Black! Go about your business!"

The servant lifted her head when she heard the name. As soon as her eyes landed on him, the hardened at him like an ill-tempered viper. Perhaps viper was the wrong snake to compare her to because she spat at him like a cobra. It hit his eye, causing him to squint it. He honestly couldn't say he was surprised.

As he wiped her saliva from his eye, Tama pulled the girl's hair like a horse's reigns, causing the girl to cry out slightly in pain and circled around him. They stormed down the hall and disappeared around the corner.

"Was that effort satisfactory?" Reptile degraded at him. The Zaterran didn't wait for his reply and instead continued in the direction of the palace doors.

Erron looked back where Tama and the cup-bearer disappeared

Not even close…