Chapter 2- A Bad Taste in Your Mouth
The darkness, it was everywhere. A piercing scream shot through the air as she struggled through the swaying rubble. Hands! Grabbing her from behind, dragging her into a corner. She couldn't reach her grandmother now!
Blood. The smell of blood. Blue-black, green tinged, on two long sharp stakes. She reached out for her magic, to drive them away, but the panic over took her. A wicked man's eyes, peering at her. Voices, "This is the one." "Then get rid of the others and set this place to the torch!"
Stabbing pain and agony. Looking down; two long, stakes of iron, piercing her hands. Iron! She reached out for her magic, but it fled from the iron, from her hands. Blackness, swallowing her.
Light hit Kera's eyes, waking her from the terrifying nightmare she had been trapped in, yet had had no desire to leave for the real world. It was a feeble light, but the first in many hours, and it hurt. She threw an arm up to cover herself, and that's when she heard someone coming. They had the soft steps, like a servant's.
A small, balding, watery-eyed man opened the door and peered inside with a look of disgust on his face. She returned the look with an even harder caliber, despite the growing pain. He flinched and muttered, "They were right. It is those eyes," then looked at her, gave a false, cheery smile and told her, "I'm suppose to take you to see my master, so come on, get up."
She didn't return the smile. They dragged her to who knows where, may or may not have put a large number of Sagi to the torch, cut her off from everything she knew and loved, and now were taking her to a person she'd rather die than meet. Except that she couldn't do that because they'd taken her magic away as well. "You take me to see Bad One. I no go there, Wormtail man. He want to see me, he come to muck house and talk here. But, I not go there." With conviction she began combing through her hair to make it look more presentable. Maybe her poor grandmother had rubbed of after all.
Wormtail swore. Trust Katty to tell her brats about him and the others; he wondered if she knew about the rest as well. Clearly she already knew of his master. Oh well, so she knew he'd betrayed her mom and her mom's best friends. Like that would even begin to help her now. He turned back, "Now, don't say that. Just come along and-"
"Just come along and," she spat right back at him. Her English was improving with every word she heard him say, but her harsh, Romanian accent still prevailed, and it made each word sound like a threat, so much like him. But she was a child, which made it all the more disturbing to everyone. There was a quieter air to Voldemort's camp than anyone had ever heard before. Even the tortured Malfoy made no noise in his room of agony. "Tell you what," she crooned, holding up her mutilated hands to the light, "You take these out, yeah, and I go."
"You'll run away."
"Yeah, like I say, I go. I go far away, and den one day I come and kill your master, yeah?" Her voice range with truth, if of a darker brand, and Wormtail knew she didn't lie. Or, if she did, it was an incredibly convincing one. Maybe it was better to just ignore the comment. Her hands were pierced, she was weak and alone, and he was only the messenger, not the origin of the bad tidings. After all, what would the Dark Lord do? (A/N: Laugh like a moron. Hey, it's like, 'WWVD?' or 'WWDLD?')
"Well," he said, pacifying, "I'm sure my master can fix your hands. Look what he did with my arm." He showed her the silver replacement Voldemort had given him a year ago. He just happened to forget to mention the certain painful circumstances under which the limb had been lost. One should never snivel about what one must do to show loyalty.
She merely muttered, "On'y cause he had you take off arm in the first, to help him." So, she had known about that, as well. Evidently, this was no stupid child. But, the real, all-important, grand slam question still remained; did her mother think she was ready to know the absolute truth? Wormtail sincerely hoped not, since it would be his neck on the line (No one knows why). Of course, he could only hope the child would try anything stupid if she did know. That way it would be much easier to impose a memory charm, even if his master would only get angry at him for delaying the meeting. But, luckily for him, they never crossed that bridge, as she sullenly got up and strode past him, forcing him to run in order to catch up with the tall girl, just as he had years ago with her mother and his other, one-time friends.
Voldemort's current location, if you could call it that, for who could ever know if he was truly there, until he allowed them to, was located inside an old, beaten up, abandoned inn. It was in the inn's old, beaten up shed where Kera had spent her first night. Now she wasn't sure if she was even going to live long enough to see a second night in it. Too bad she didn't get a chance to bravely end her own life instead of being tortured to death, like she knew was coming to her now. That, or enslavement to the Death Eaters.
Not that she had shown any fear to the sniveling, worm-man, and betrayer, Wormtail. Like her grandma had said, when she found her crying not long after she came to the city…
"Crying doesn't help anyone," Grandma had said, pacing around her like a caged lion. That's what she was. A strong, proud lioness, for all the years had done to her. In fact, they had only added to her majesty, giving her the air of knowing everything, which she might actually have been able to prove, with all the knowledge life had bestowed upon her. "All crying ever does is shows you're weak, unable to mask your sad face and not mature enough to come up with a better solution than to just sit there and feel sorry for yourself. No, I certainly won't have any granddaughter of mine act like that."
"But Grandma, sometimes it's good to cry. It shows you can feel." she winced, knowing that she'd gone perhaps, too far. Her grandmother, in the short week she'd been there, had already rattled Kera for far less heinous offenses. She held back-sassing in high regard, something Katriona had always been amazingly easy-going about.
The biggest surprise came to Kera. Her old, knurled, aging grandmother bent down, on her ancient legs, and told her, in barely a whisper, "I know child. But not out here. So long as people see you, an Aioli, or Carutasu if you prefer, one of my few family members, you must not appear like this. Ruling families must always make the decisions, and even though we are only the lesser ruling family of a lesser Caru clan, we must lead just as well as the leading families of the Kanji, the Sutra, and the Trichina." In a taller, more regal voice, she stood. "Come. I'll show you where you be attending lessons while-"
"-while you're here, you shall answer to Malfoy," Wormtail finished.
Thinking of her grandma, she spat at him, "I will answer to no one, especially not that trash, and you say is Malfoy!" In her fury her tongue slid back into Romanian as She tried to curse him. Nothing happen, of course. Her hands were still impaled. Feeling dizzy, Kera sank to the floor.
Wormtail smiled and muttered, "I know you don't. But you soon will. My master is strong, little girl. Can you really stand against him? I have yet to know of anyone who can."
She was about to hiss a reply (Harry Potter), when the door swung open. "Ah, Kera," came the snaky voice, "it has been so long, too long. Come in."
Kera stayed plunked firmly on the floor. Wormtail gave her a poke. "Well, you heard my lord. Go in."
"No, I think I stay where I sit," she told him, matter-of-factly.
Before Wormtail could do anything, though, Kera was on her feet, and walking, slowly, struggling with every step, forward. Her face began to fill with horror. No sound, no incantation, and yet the snake man was dragging her, almost literally, into the room.
She tried everything she could think of, but only moved faster as the burning pain in her hands weakened her resistance. All she wanted was for this to stop, for her to be back home with her mother, for everything to have been a nightmare. She hated and cursed Dumbledore, for taking her mother away from her, and allowing her to be subjected to this. Now, she would probably never see her family again.
As Kera stepped across the threshold she collapsed to the floor. She was in a small room with a roaring fire, a large, old, grand looking chair in which a man sat, hidden completely in his enormous ebony cloak. Everything in the place was wood, plaster, or cloth. 'Where is the metal, the liquid, the growing thing?' Kera asked herself. Her people had always believed in a balance, of all things, in every room, to help keep peace. "Kera, now that wasn't so hard, was it?" the voice issued from the hood, almost friendly, in a cruel, tormenting way. "In the future though, when you are called, I must let you know that I expect my servants to answer my call automatically. Watch, child, and learn. Wormtail," he raised his voice, "get in here, and close the door."
Wormtail scrabbled in like a rat and scurried to close the door. "He is quite useless," Voldemort told her, "but it is always useful to have a servant who is devoted to you, if only because they have no where else to go. You must always recognize people at face value, my dear."
'Why is he telling me this,' Kera asked herself. She, of course, got no answer. Where the hell was a conscience when you really needed it?
"Why am I telling you this?" he repeated. "Isn't it obvious, girl?" A vehement shake from Kera. "You've been recruited. As of now you are, of sorts, one of my Death Eaters. Don't look so surprise, Kera." For once it sounded as though he was regarding her as a sixteen-year-old, not the little girl he had been treating her like. This was not exactly a good thing, when you stopped for a second to consider who was doing the talking. Being treated like an unruly child meant there was a lessened chance of dying. Kera gave an involuntary shudder. He laughed that cold high laugh that haunted more than one teenaged dream. "You mean to tell me you have no idea? And all this time I thought the woman you call mother would have said something. I suppose even she refuses to think about it."
"I cannot be everywhere at once, girl, nor can my servants, especially the place where we should be the most. Malfoy's boy could have done it, but I suppose he already made himself hated to the Potter boy. You, however, are an unknown. That is why I am sending you to Hogwarts."
Kera voice popped back. "Hold on," she said, completely forgetting whom she was starting to spit at, "What you mean? Go to Hogwarts! You can't make me go to anyplace! I make my choices, not you! You kill my family! Why I do anything you say!" She made a very rude noise, (that I couldn't describe without soaring beyond even PG-13 status. It'd be like, X-17. A/N)
She couldn't see his face, but she was sure he was smiling, "how sure are you of that." Then he pulled back his hood. "A very nice restoration, no?" A solitary shaft of sunlight bounced of a single black lock of hair as he watched Kera's eyes roll upwards and heard the thunk of her falling to the floor. Replacing his hood, he ordered to Wormtail, "Bring the vial."
Wormtail came slowly forward, careful not to drop the glass vial, full to the top with a shining purple liquid. He poured its contents down Kera open mouth. She sat up, slightly groggy.
"Kera can you hear me?" She nodded, and Voldemort continued, "You are now confined to taking orders from me, and the Malfoys, with whom I am placing you with. You will go to Hogwarts, befriend Potter, and report back to me. You will not remember ever doing so, and you will forget this conversation. You have worked for the Malfoys for five years, ever since your family was killed. Understand?" Kera nodded, and simply fainted again.
"Oh, and one last thing," he added. "You do not remember what a look like at all." She didn't need to nod. Voldemort new his new version of a truth-imperius curse serum would work, and that it would be impossible for her not to obey.
When she woke up later, with a pounding head, Kera remember that she had been accompanying Mrs. Malfoy to help out on the Family Vacation, especially with Julia, who was higher strung than a bow string about graduating from her expensive European school. Kera recalled how glad the school had been as well, to see her go. But, for some odd reason, she had a bad taste in her mouth, as if she had been spitting words at someone. Luckily, it was early June and she had all summer before she finally headed off to Hogwarts with her little terror to sort that oddity out.