LINKS - Chapter 3 - Windhill Ranch


*Super Excited to have chapter 3 done. Really looking forward to showing more of Azee's journey. Hope you all enjoy. :) Comments are always helpful and appreciated.*


	Azee grimaced as she curled her legs up under her to try and cushion the painful bouncing of the cart. The road leading out of Lillyvale was poorly maintained at the best of times, and with the rain and cold of the winter just passed, the compacted dirt was rough and bumpy. The chain attached to her collar jangled constantly, the harsh noise loud and grating in her ears. The carriage that Master Luke would take into town was far smoother and more comfortable. Even in the back, where the law demanded she ride, there had been folded blankets, or at least a layer of straw.

	“Are you alright back there?” Eolise asked, looking over her shoulder at Azee as the cart bounced towards the edge of town.

	Despite her discomfort, Azee nodded. “I am fine, thank you ma’am.”

	As Eloise turned back to driving, Azee couldn’t help but reach up and touch her collar. Despite being closer to freedom than she had ever been before, and despite the fog that had clouded her mind for months being lifted, the collar felt heavier than it ever had before.

	The wheels bumped and rattled as the cart began making its way across the rickety wooden bridge that led westward out of the town. Azee leaned over the side and peered into the water below. The light of the setting sun cast streaks of blazing red and orange upon the dark surface of the river. Pitch black shadows, cast by the trees on the bank, stretched across the water like the grasping hands of evil spirits. Her breath caught in her throat, and her whole body tensed at the sight of the water, as it did every time.

	“You know, you’re very well spoken for a slave.” Eloise commented as the cart finished crossing the bridge and continued rattling its way down the narrow dirt road.

	“In fact, you speak better than half of the people in the town, and far better than any of the drunks that visit the Old Crow.”

	“Th-thank you ma’am.”

	“I take it your Master taught you that?”

	“Yes ma’am, Master Luke thought it was important that I learn.”

	“Hmmm, interesting.”

	As the cart rattled along the road, Azee’s nose and mouth filled with dust from the straw in the back of the cart. Her throat was dry, and her tongue felt as if it were covered in hair. She coughed, trying to clear the dust, but it was little more than dry wheezing. Panic and fear had kept her from noticing before, but she hadn’t had anything to drink since the early afternoon, just before her long walk from the Ranch to the Old Crow. The day had been as exhausting as it had been hot.

	“Are you thirsty?” Eloise asked, noting Azee’s discomfort.

	With great reluctance, Azee nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

	“Hand me a couple of bottles from the blue crate back there.”

	Azee shifted and lifted the lid free off of a shabby wooden crate covered in cracking blue paint. The crate was filled with a dozen or so dark brown glass bottles packed with sawdust.

	“These were headed for the Windhill ranch anyways.” Eloise commented as Azee handed her two of the bottles. “The way I see it, this is just the delivery surcharge.”

	Popping the cork off the first bottle with her thumb, Eloise handed it to Azee.

	“Here. This should help.”

	“I can’t drink Master Luke’s beer!” Azee gasped, recoiling from the offered bottle.

	“Says the woman who cracked her Master over the head.”

	Azee paused, staring at Eloise, her eyes wide.

	Eloise raised an eyebrow. “What?”

	“I just… no one has… called me a woman before…”

	“Really?” A shadow flickered across Eloise's face, a look of contemptuous disdain. “Something to do with the ‘holy laws’ I imagine.”

	“Chapter three, verse nine, ‘Be assured, in mind and spirit, in the laws of the land and nature, that the non humans shall not bear the trappings of the lord and her people, be they in name or title.’” Azee recited.

	“Putrid nonsense.” Eloise muttered under her breath. “And what about ‘Master Luke’, what does he call you?”

	“He… he just calls me Azee.”

	“Hmmm, well it’s better than ‘pelt’ I suppose. Still,” Eloise jiggled the bottle under Azee’s nose, “You’re not gonna be of any use if you faint from thirst. Besides, I rather doubt that a blue blood like Lord Windhill drinks this sort of thing. It is probably meant for one of his overseers, and I can’t imagine you would feel too bad taking from one of those cretins.”

	Despite herself, Azee couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

	Eloise blinked in surprise. “Was that… laughter? So you can smile.”

	Hesitantly Azee took the bottle. “I… I suppose so.”

	“Well that’s good to hear, I was beginning to wonder.”

	Azee raised the bottle to her nose and sniffed. The smell was sharp, and tickled her nostrils. Despite her thirst, the scent was enough to give Azee pause.

	“So, what was funny?”

	“It’s just that… It’s been a long time since I stole something from an overseer… The last time I did, Chara boxed me around the ears and told me she would tan my hide herself if I ever did it again.”

	Azee’s shoulders sank as she looked around the cart. “Even with her gone… part of me half expects her to come rushing out of the bushes to tell me to put this back…”

	“You love her, don’t you.”

	“She’s my sister.”

	Eloise shook her head. “Trust me, loving someone and being bound by blood are two very different things. I have a brother and a sister, I despise the both of them.”

	“Oh… I’m sorry.”

	“Don’t be, I’m much better off without them. I’m just saying, it sounds as if you and your sister meant a great deal to one another.”

	“I would do anything to have Chara back.” Azee’s shoulders tensed, a hint of fire in her voice. “Anything.”

	A tiny smile played at the edges of Eloise’s mouth as she glanced back at Azee. ‘Now that is promising...’

	“So what did you steal?” Eloise prompted after a few moments of silence.

	“Chicken.” Azee replied, staring down at the bottle and turning it over in her hand.

	“Ah, broke into a coop did you? Perhaps you have some vulpine blood in your veins.”

	“What? Oh, no.” Azee shook her head. “One of the overseers was called away during lunch and left his food behind. I was taking water out to the fields and I caught the scent of it… roasted chicken”

	Azee leaned back, staring up at the sky, watching as the first few stars began to emerge from the inky blue darkness.

	“I’d only had chicken once before… some scraps from the masters’ Solstice celebration feast that Chara found in the rubbish heap.

	A soft smile crossed Azee’s face as she lost herself in the memory. “She managed to sneak away with it and share it with me. It was the best thing I had ever tasted. So, when there were four pieces just sitting there, undefended, I couldn’t resist.”

	“Brave.” Eloise commented, popping the cork off another bottle and taking a drink.

	Azee’s smile faded. “It was stupid. Chara always said that my nose was going to get me into trouble, and she was right.”

	“Did you get away with it?”

	“No, I didn’t. Chara tried to stop me and it drew the overseers' attention. We made a run for it… but it’s not like we had anywhere to go. They caught us and chained us in the yard for the rest of the day and night.”

	Azee’s grip in the bottle tightened, her claws tearing into the rough paper label. “We were going to get fifteen lashes each. Chara said it was her fault, that she sent me to go and steal the chicken, that she threatened me if I didn’t do it. The Overseers didn’t care, they were going to whip us both anyways, but Master Luke stopped them.”

	‘How very generous of him.’ Eloise grumbled to herself, Azee did not reply, staring silently off into the distance.
	
	As the last of the light of day faded, the cart continued to trundle along. As it grew harder and harder to make out the road ahead Eloise lit a pair of lanterns, one on their side of the cart. The flickering light made the darkness between the trees along the road seem utterly impenetrable, with shadows that danced and writhed. The draft hounds simply continued walking, their heads low as they sniffed the road ahead.

	The darkness seemed to press in from all sides as Azee looked around nervously, her eyes darting from one eerie shadow to the next. Her ears twitched with each sound, her nose sniffing the air for any sign of danger.

	More than a few slaves attempting to make their escape had been lost to the forest and the creatures within. Ancient bogs that could swallow a person whole were dotted around the forest, invisible in the dark. There were even stories of feral humans, cannibals and worse, who would gladly drag off an unsuspecting traveller.

	Azee jumped a little, nearly dropping her bottle, as a loud click rang out behind her from the driver’s seat.

	With the reins between her knees, Eloise worked to load the double barrel shotgun she held under her arm. With a pair of heavy cartridges loaded, she snapped the rifle back together and activated the spark rune on the butt with her thumb. Eloise lay the gun across her knees and took up the reins again.

	“What’s that for?” Azee asked, resisting the urge to shrink back from the gun.

	“Never know what’s out here this time of night. Panthers, cougars, bears, dire wolves, even crocodiles can be a problem in some places. Speaking of-” Eloise gestured for Azee, “-come.”

	Azee leaned forwards and Eloise unclipped the chain bound to her collar.

	“There we go.”

	“But… if someone sees me like this...” Azee stammered as Eloise dropped the chain to the floor of the cart..

	“The only people we are likely to encounter this far outside of town at this time of night are raiders. And believe me, if we run into some of them, the last thing you will want is to be trying to free yourself in the middle of a fight.”

	Shuddering at the thought, Azee nodded. “Thank you.”

	“And if we do run into some of them, whatever you do, do not try to run. Stay with me. You understand?”

	“Y-yes ma’am.”

	Eloise nodded and turned back to the road.

	As the cart rattled on, Azee felt her stomach rumble, hunger joining her nearly desperate thirst. She hadn’t eaten anything since the morning, and even that had only been a meagre meal. Azee could feel her strength and energy start to wane, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment.

	Taking up the bottle, Azee took another sniff. It certainly didn’t smell appealing, but the dryness in her throat and mouth pushed her to try a sip. The taste was bitter, and there was a fizz to it that made her tongue tingle. But, at least it wet her throat.

	As Azee started to take another drink, the cart jolted hard as the left wheel hit a bump. Azee lost control of the bottle and bitter beer flooded her mouth. The stinging bubbles went up the back of her throat and into her nose and immediately Azee began to cough and hack.

	“Never had beer before?” Eloise asked, glancing over her shoulder as Azee caught her breath.

	“N-no.” Azee shook her head. “Sometimes on holidays they’d give us whisky, but Chara never let me touch it.”

	“Well then I owe you an apology young one. If I had known this was your first drink, I’d have given you something better than this swill.”

	“It’s not my first drink.” Azee answered quickly, her face turning a little red.

	“S-sometimes, when Master Luke would read in his study, he’d ask me to get him a glass of wine. Sometimes he would even share with me while he read to me.”

	“Read to you?”

	Azee nodded.

	“Let me guess, the holy texts?”

	“Not just those. He’d read to me about the wars against the Drathain, the history of Halcyon and the other southern provinces, how the Chosen settled this land. Sometimes he’d even read me mystery stories.

	“How interesting.” Eloise tilted her head, something in Azee’s tone catching her attention. “Tell me, can you read?”

	“No!” Azee replied quickly, her ears pressing flat against her head.

	Eloise’s eyes widened. “By the lord, you can, can’t you!”

	“O-only so I can read the instructions on medicines! M-master Luke sends me to tend to any of the other slaves that get hurt! Nothing more than that I swear!”

	“I assume that is another holy law?”

	“Y-yes ma’am! Ch-chapter two, verse two, ‘The reason and knowledge imparted by the lord’s gift of letters shall be preserved for the eyes and hands of humans alone’!” Azee’s heart thudded hard in her chest. “Please don’t tell anyone, I beg you!”

	“It’s alright young one, relax. I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

	‘Not that it would make much of a difference considering…’

	“So, he reads to you, shares his wine with you, teaches you to read, and takes you into his bed.”

	Azee nodded quickly. “Y-yes.”

	“So what are you to him exactly? Consort or bed-slave?”

	“M-ma’am?”

	“It’s a simple enough question. I’ve heard stories of master taking their slaves to bed when they fancy it, but you seem to think it’s different. You even seem to believe that he cares for you. Though I’d say he treats you more like an amusing toy.”

	Azee’s shoulders slumped a little as Eloise’s words cut into her.

	Eloise looked over her shoulder. “I suppose the better question is, what is he to you? Is he your master, who sold your sister, put a collar around your neck, and takes you whenever he wants to? Or is he your friend, who reads to you and gives you scraps from his table?”

	Azee’s face turned even redder as she brought her knees up and under her chin, her tail curling between her legs.

	“Do you think he would share your punishment if you were ever caught reading? Do you think he would defend you?” Azee was silent as Eloise pressed. “What is the punishment for a non-human learning to read? It was blinding with a hot knife, wasn’t it?”

	Another shiver ran through Azee’s body as she tried to shrink into herself.

	“Just something to think about.” Eloise remarked, turning back to the road. “I doubt he is going to cooperate willingly. So you may have to decide.”

	“D-decide what?” Azee whispered, her voice just barely audible over the rattling of the cart.

	“Just how far you are willing to go to get Chara back.”

	For a long time, Azee was quiet, staring down at her hands.

	Eloise’s words spun in her mind. What was she? She’d never felt that much like a slave, but she’d never felt free either. She hadn’t belonged in either world. From the time she was a child, her friendship with Master Luke had made unwelcome among the other slaves. Amongst humans she was treated as any other pelt, except for Master Luke.

	‘Could I hurt him? He is my friend… isn’t he? Or…’ Azee’s grip around her knees tightened. ‘Chara…’

	Finally, Azee raised her head.

	“I’ll go as far as I have to,” she growled, her claws carving furrows into the floor of the cart. “I’m getting her back.”

===

	The Windhill Ranch was one of the oldest and grandest farms in the entire province of Landa, in Halcyon’s southern frontier. It had stood for almost two hundred years already, a stately reminder of the culture and sophistication of the larger cities in the north and the capital.

	The central house was a simple square constructed of brick, shipped more than one hundred miles from the north, and covered in bone white plaster. A great balcony surrounded the entire second floor, behind a wall of decorative pillars. Elegant gardens, filled with carefully tended exotic plants and shrubs, dotted the property and ringed the main house. Thick forest and a carefully trimmed hedge surrounded the main lawn, dotted with normous willow trees, whose long branches swaying like ghostly tendrils in the gentle breeze.

	Usually, at this time of night, the many windows of the house would glow with warm golden light, visible even through the trees that lined the long cobblestone path leading from the road to the main entrance. Tonight, the whole house was shrouded in darkness, the only visible light coming from the lamps on either side of the front doors. What was usually a beacon of opulence and classical gradure, was instead a looming mass of shadow.

	Beyond the main house, the barns of the slave quarters were barely visible shapes in the dark, long and squat behind a tall wall.

	“So, how do you plan to get us in without the guards noticing?” Eloise asked, pulling on the reins and guiding the hounds off the road and onto the main drive leading onto the Windhill property.

	“Tonight it will be Armin and George on duty at the front gate.” Azee replied quickly, nervously glancing over Eloise’s shoulder as the cart made its way up path. “With any luck, they’ll be passed out drunk by now.”

	Eloise raised an eyebrow “Fair enough.”

	Up ahead, both Azee and Eloise could see the brick and wrought iron front gate, the name ‘Windhill’ emblazoned upon a great iron arch that stretched across the road. Beyond it, a long drive of cobblestone, flanked on either side by colossal old magnolia trees, leading to the manor house.

	As the cart came within earshot of the gate, two men with rifles emerged from behind the wall.

	“They don’t look passed out to me.” Eloise muttered dryly.

	Azee felt her heart skip a beat as she recognized the two men.

	“That’s not Armin or George,” Azee whimpered, her ears pressing against her head. “That’s Snyder and Comb!”

	“And those names are meant to mean something to me?”

	“They’re dangerous! They’ll kill us! We need to get out of here!”

	“A little too late for that.”

	“We’re going to die.” Azee whimpered, her whole body trembling.

	“Just shut up and do what I tell you.” Eloise looked over her shoulder. “There’s a canvas sheet, get under it.”

	“B-but they’ll search it!”

	“No, they won’t. Now do what I say!”

	Whether it was by her own will that she acted, or the collar’s, Azee didn’t know. Either way, she threw herself onto the floor of the cart, curling up into one corner as much as she was able. As quickly as she could she pulled the mouldy, foul smelling canvas sheet over her. Terror flooded through her, there was nowhere to go, they were trapped. If they tried to run, the guards would certainly chase them, and if they continued they would certainly search the cart and find Azee there. It was over, she’d be found, then Luke would be found, and then she would die.

	“I’m sorry Chara…” Azee whispered, clutching her hands against her chest as tears streamed down her cheeks.

	One of the guards, a tall man in a black suit and coat, raised his rifle as the cart drew closer to the gate. “Ey, you, stop there!”

	It took all of her self control not to whine and shiver as she heard the voice of the first guard, Snyder, call out.

	Snyder’s voice had a sharp edge to it that made Azee tremble. Until some of the overseers, Snyder had no particular love of cruelty, nor any hate for the pelt slaves. What made him so frightening was his total lack of compassion or empathy. If a rule was broken in front of him he could not be reasoned with, talked down, or apologised to. He would dole out the punishment dictated by the holy laws, no exceptions, no mercy.

	“Fine, fine, I’m stopping.” Eloise called back, hauling on the reins. As the cart shuddered to a stop, Eloise reached into the back of the cart. With a small blade hidden up her sleeve, she sliced into her thumb. With her blood she quickly scrawled a complex rune upon the canvas Azee was hiding beneath.

	“Ey! Ey!” Snyder called out, raising his weapon. “What’re you doing back there? Hands where I can see them!”

	With a muttered curse, Eloise placed her fingers upon the rune. There was a dull flash of red and the sound of crackling energy as the rune activated.

	Beneath the canvas, for a moment Azee felt a sharp tingle run across her skin

	“Gentlemen please, relax.” Eloise turned back towards the guards, a pair of bottles held in her raised hands. “Just here on a delivery.”

	“Keep those hands up.” Snyder ordered, keeping his rifle aimed at Eloise.

	“Didn’t ‘ear nothin ‘bout no delivery.” the second man called out, shifting his rifle into his hands.

	“Well would you want anyone knowing you were drinking swill like this?” Eloise chuckled, tossing one of the bottles to the second guard.

	The guard caught the bottle and peered down at it. Turning it around in his hand.

	“Gotta be kiddin’ me. Lord ‘ave mercy on the poor sod drinkin this crap.”

	Terror rushed through Azee’s body at the sound of the second man’s voice. Unlike Snyder, Comb had an insatiable appetite for cruelty. His face was one she had come to fear over the years. Even Luke did not care for the man, but was unwilling to fire him, as Comb had been a dear friend of Luke’s late father. While Comb knew better than to mistreat the ‘master’s pet’, his cruelty towards the rest of the slaves on the Ranch was something of a grim legend. Even Azee bore several scars caused by the man, and his infamous carved hazel switch.

	“Bit late for a delivery ain’t it?” Snyder asked, lowering his gun slightly as he craned his neck to look into the back of the cart.

	“Busy day, lots of deliveries. This place is last on my list.”

	“Was it now?”

	Azee had to clamp her hands over her muzzle to keep herself from whimpering as Comb grabbed the side of the cart. Through the fraying fabric she could see his pockmarked skin, her nose catching a whiff of his horrid chewing tobacco.

	“What else you got in ‘ere?” Comb asked, poking around the various crates with a long knife. “Got anything good?”

	“Not tonight I’m afraid.”

	“Awe, yeh sure ‘bout tha’?”

	Eloise let out an exasperated sigh. “Listen, gentlemen, it’s late. I’d like to avoid becoming some hungry panther’s dinner, and I would like to get home so I can get at least something resembling sleep.”

	“Could always stay ‘ere fer the night.” Comb purred, grinning at Eloise with yellowed teeth. “Thinkin I could find some room in my bunk, if’n yer willin to double up.”

	“Thank you for your kind offer, but I believe I will pass.” Eloise crossed her arms and turned back to Snyder. “So, can I make my delivery or not?”

	“Is it clear?” Snyder asked, looking past Eloise to Comb.

	Comb nodded and sheathed his knife. “Yeah, she’s clear.”

	Snyder was silent for a few moments, before shouldering his rifle and waving her through the gate. “Alright, get to it.”

	“Mind if I get the hounds something to drink? Been a long day on the road.”

	“The kennel is on the east side. Just take care of your business and be on your way.”

	With a click of the tongue and a snap of the reins, Eloise drove the cart through the front gate and up the main drive towards the front of the house.

	As soon as the guards were out of earshot, Eloise let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. Through the exhaustion, she noticed the skin on the back of her hands shifting and writhing. Her control faded, and within seconds the smooth skin on the hand she’d used to trigger the rune had turned wrinkled and old. The flesh withered, revealing dark splotches and prominent veins stretched across gnarled bones.

	“Take the second path on the left,” Azee whispered. “That will take us to the summer kitchen, behind the main house.”

	“And why are we going there?” Eloise demanded, trying to hide the rage in her voice as she reached into a hidden pocket up her right sleeve

	“Th-there is an underground passage that leads into the main house. No one will see us.”

	“Fine, that sounds- Stay under the cover!” Eloise snapped as Azee started to shift, trying to peek out from under the canvas. “They are still watching us.”

	As Azee dropped her head back down, Eloise withdrew a small piece of catalyst stone from her sleeve. The crystal wasn’t the common maroon of most catalyst stones, but rather a deep ocean green, with a glowing red rune carved into its surface. The rune was complex, with twisting, eldritch tendrils that wrapped around the entire piece of stone.

	Placing the stone against the withered flesh on her hand, Eloise activated the rune with a gentle touch of her finger. Thin tendrils of crimson energy flowed out of the rune, over the catalyst stone, and into Eloise’s hand. Within moments the ravages of age faded, the wrinkles replaced by smooth skin, the dark spots vanishing like ice in the sun.

	With a sigh of relief, Eloise replaced the still-glowing piece of catalyst stone in her sleeve.

	Beneath the canvas, Azee felt the cart shift as Eloise guided it up the path she had indicated. Her heart still beat frantically, her mind spinning with a combination of fear and adrenaline. She couldn’t believe that the guards hadn’t moved the sheet. Armin and George might be layabouts, but Erwin and Thomas were very much the opposite. It was as if they simply hadn’t noticed the sheet.

	But what had they been doing there? They weren’t supposed to be at the gate, not on odd numbered days.

	Azee’s eyes widened as realisation flashed across her mind. Amidst the panic and terror, she had lost track of time. It wasn’t the sixth day of the week, it was still the fifth.

	The cart continued to shake upon the cobblestones, until a few moments later it was replaced by gravel. Not long after that, the cart came to a halt.

	Slowly Azee raised her head and peered over the side. The lamps along the main drive glowed in the darkness beyond a row of large willows. The main house, a stone’s throw away, was mostly dark, with only the glow of a few lamps in halls creating any kind of glow in the windows.

	Eloise had stopped the cart near a low building which even in the dark Azee recognized as the Summer Kitchen. During the hot and humid summers, cooking was done outside of the main house, so as to keep the master’s living spaces as cool as possible. While Azee didn’t do a lot of the cooking herself, she was often the one who would come to the summer-kitchen to retrieve the meal intended for Master Luke.

	“We can take the tunnel beneath the kitchen into the main house.” Azee whispered as she climbed out of the cart. “It leads into the pantry.”

	“Where you left Windhill?”

	“Y-yes.”

	“Good, then let’s get moving.”

	Stepping to the front of the carriage, Eloise leaned close to one of the draft hounds, pressing her forehead against the animals. She began to mutter words in a language that Azee didn’t recognize, gently stroking the hound’s cheek as she did. Stepping back, she clicked her tongue, and the hounds continued on up the path.

	“W-where are they going?” Azee asked as the hounds and the cart vanished into the dark.

	“Don’t worry about them,” Eloise muttered. “They’re going to go and find somewhere out of the way to hide. Now, can you get us in there?”

	“Y-yes ma’am.”

	Gesturing for Eloise to follow her, Azee crept along the low hedge towards the kitchen's entrance. They rounded the corner, and began making their way through the large herb garden that surrounded the building. A few steps from the entrance, Azee bent down and lifted up one of the stones next to the path. From beneath the rock she withdrew a small silver key.

	As she drew up in front of the door, Azee hesitated.

	“What is it now?” Eloise hissed, glancing around. “What are you waiting for?”

	Azee didn’t hear Eloise’s voice, her mind was far away, shivering as memories assaulted her.

	It had been just over a month ago when a trio of slaves had been caught trying to break into the summer kitchen. Whether they were after food or weapons, Azee didn’t know. What she did know, what she could never forget, was the echoing crack of the whip against flesh, again and again and again and again.

	Even in the house, far from the slave quarters, Azee had heard the sound. She’d been in the parlour with Master Luke, listening as he read some story from the newspaper about a glorious new weapon the Halcyon militia had created, some horrid armed rivership. Luke had been unable to hear the sound of the whip, but Azee's sensitive ears had. Even though the collar's influence had still clouded her mind, each crack had made her twitch, though Master Luke had been too invested in the story, explaining the nuances of the vessel's weaponry to notice her discomfort.

	When it was over, she had been ordered to bandage the slaves’ wounds. The mere thought made the skin on her back crawl, and the key shake in her hand.

	“What is wrong with you?” Eloise hissed, drawing up behind Azee. “We’re going to be seen!”

	Screwing up her courage, Azee pushed the key into the lock. With a soft click the door opened, and Azee and Eloise slipped inside.

	The kitchen was dark, with only the distant glow of the drive lamps coming through a pair of small windows providing any light.

	“Do the guards inspect this place?” Eloise asked, closing the door behind her and turning the lock as quietly as she was able.

	Azee shook her head. “No, this building is supposed to be locked, so they don’t bother.”

	“You’re sure about that?”

	“Y-yes.”

	“As sure as you were about the gatekeepers.”

	Azee looked down at her feet.

	“What?” Eloise demanded, her voice cracking like a whip.

	“I… I forgot… I thought it was the sixth… not the fifth. I’m sorry...”

	In a flash, Eloise grabbed hold of Azee’s hair with one hand and dragged her backwards, covering her muzzle with the other. Azee fell hard onto her back, Eloise’s hand preventing a yelp from escaping her lips. In a flash Eloise had her pinned, a knee in her chest and the sharp point of a dagger against her throat.

	“Now listen here, pelt,” Eloise snarled, cold rage burning in her eyes. “I said I would help you! But I do not intend to get caught up in this nightmare and find myself next on the chopping block! The next time you tell me something, you had better be one hundred percent certain that it is accurate! If you fuck up like that again, I will have you turned into a coat, understand?”

	Azee stared up at Eloise, her entire body frozen in terror. For a moment she was certain she could see streamers of energy running up and down Eloise's arms. She winced as Eloise dug the point of her dagger a little harder into her throat.

	“I asked you if you understood.”

	Forcing herself to move, despite her terror, Azee nodded.

	“Good.” With a click, the dagger slid back up inside of Eloise’s sleeve. Removing her knee from Azee’s chest and releasing her muzzle, she got back to her feet. “Now, how do we get to the main house from here?”

	As she looked around, a low whimper drew her attention back to Azee. “Oh for the lord’s sake will you-”

	She froze as she saw Azee, curled up into a ball, sobbing into her knees, her tail curled up between her legs. In an instant Eloise felt a pang of shame as she realised what she had said and done. Her shoulders slumped as her anger was replaced with regret at her loss of control.

	“Come on now.” Eloise knelt down and put her hand on Azee’s head, gently scratching her between her ears. “There’s no need to cry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I need you to be strong.”

	Azee tried to pull away from Eloise’s hand, but Eloise persisted.

	“You need to be certain about things going forward, alright? It isn’t just your life in danger here, but mine as well. There can’t be any more mistakes.”

	“I’m sorry…” Azee whimpered.

	“Don’t be sorry, do better.”

	“I… I’ll try.”

	Eloise leaned close, putting her hand under Azee’s chin and forcing her to meet her gaze. “Don’t try, do. If you are going to get your sister back, if you are going to be free, you need to be in control, you need to take control of your fear.”

	“B-but I… I’ve never been in control of anything.”

	“You spent months convincing your master, who you spend almost every day with, that you were still under his control. And when that control failed, you knocked him out, took charge of the situation, and did what you needed to do to survive.”

	Eloise stared directly into Azee’s terrified, bloodshot eyes. “Do you understand? Do you understand how strong you were?”

	“I-I was?”

	“Yes, you were. And I need you to be that strong again, now!”

	For a few moments, Azee met Eloise’s gaze, her breath shuddering. Finally, she reached up and wiped the tears away from her eyes and nodded.

	“Good. Now, where do we go from here?”

	Azee picked herself up and padded over to a door against the wall. “Th-this way.”

	The door creaked loudly as it opened, revealing a set of stairs leading down into pitch darkness.

	Reaching over to the right hand wall, Azee touched a rune carved into a tiny chip of catalyst stone embedded in the wall. A line of lamps hanging from the tunnel ceiling burst into life, illuminating the narrow staircase and the tunnel beyond.

	With a deep breath, Azee descended the stairs, leading the way into the tunnel.

===

	Luke had no idea how long he had been locked down in the pantry. There were no windows, and only a single lamp lighting the space. His throat was raw from yelling for help, and his head still throbbed from where Azee had struck him.

	As he sat upon a small cask of cooking oil, Luke sighed heavily. In his palm he held a piece of bent wire, pulled from one of the boxes. For the last few hours he’d tried to pick the pantry lock with it, but with no success.

	“Suppose it shouldn't be surprising,” he grumbled to himself, tossing the useless wire away.

	The locks hadn’t been changed since the days when the rooms down here had been cells for unruly slaves, slaves that would need to be broken. They were strong, not once in his entire family history had anyone escaped from these blasted cages. He’d tried smashing the lock with the prybar used for opening crates, and he’d tried forcing the bars apart with a thick length of wood. He’d even tried setting a small fire with the rune he kept in his pocket for his pipe. He’d hoped to create enough smoke to draw someone’s attention, but had only succeeded in very nearly suffocating himself. Now, with his lock pick proving worthless, Luke was very nearly out of ideas.

	Getting to his feet, Luke paced around the narrow cell, trying to calm his racing mind and his burning temper. Never in his entire life had he been treated like this, and it was intolerable. Even on the rare occasion a night of partying had gone too far, the authorities had not dared put a Windhill in a cage.

	To make things even worse, it had been Azee that had struck him. He knew to be careful around the other slaves, even the ones with collars.

	“Never turn your back on a pelt, they don’t think like we do. If they see a chance, they’ll take it.”

	His father had been right, of course. Luke had learned that lesson the hard way more than once, he even had a few scars to prove it. But Azee…. Azee was different. She’d never hurt him. She was his friend, he looked after her.

	Luke felt a powerful rush of frustration building up in his chest.

	What in the Lord’s name could she have been thinking? She had been making him lunch, he’d come to check in on her and the sight of her in her apron had drawn him to her. Distasteful as it was to think such things about a pelt, Azee truly was alluring in that delicate red apron.

	Had he said something wrong? Frightened her? He was certain she had heard him coming up behind her. Azee had never rejected any of his advances before. Hell, she’d shared his bed the night before.

	Luke frowned to himself. ‘No… I can’t have frightened her, certainly not enough for her to hit me.’

	With a bellow of frustration, Luke kicked the cask of oil he’s been sitting on, sending it crashing uselessly against the bars, oil splattering all over the floor. A string of curses erupted from him as a red hot lance of pain shot through his foot.

	“Damn it Azee! Let me out!” He yelled, ignoring the pain in his throat as he hopped on one foot. “If you come right now I won’t punish you, I promise!”

	There was no reply, only silence.

	“Let me out, you hear me! Let me out or I’ll have you sleep in the barn for the rest of the season! Make that a year! Get down here! NOW!”

	Again, his cries were greeted only with silence.

	Dropping back down to the floor, Luke pulled his boot off and examined his foot. Thankfully nothing seemed broken, though there was still a great deal of pain.

	“It’s alright.” He mumbled. “She’s probably just scared. She’ll come and get me, I’ll punish her, then everything will go back to normal.”

	The sound of a door opening immediately drew Lukes attention. Hurriedly pulling his boot back on, he leapt to his feet, gripping the bars. “Hey! Hey! Get me out of here!”

	The door that led to the out kitchen tunnel at the far end of the pantry swung open. For a moment Luke couldn’t make out who it was in the gloom. As Azee stepped out of the tunnel and into the pantry, Luke sighed in relief.

	“There you are. Come over here and-”

	Luke paused as another woman followed Azee out of the tunnel. She seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place where he had seen her face before.

	“Azee, who is that? What are you doing?” He asked, his voice ragged and hoarse from yelling.

	With a heavy sigh, Luke shook his head. “On second thought, never mind. Just get over here and let me out, now.”

	There was a long pause, followed by a single, almost emotionless: “No.”

	Luke froze. “What did you say?”

	Striding forward into the light cast by the lamp, Azee stared at Luke. there was something in her gaze that made Luke take a step back.

	“Azee, what are you-”

	“I want my sister back.” Azee growled, baring her teeth, her pale red eyes flashing crimson as she rushed the bars, driving Luke back another step.

	“I want Chara back, and you are going to tell me where she is! NOW!”



End of Part 3


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