Chapter 7 - Graves


“Come ‘ere… that’s right… that’s right…” Bill licked his lips, his eyes shining in the morning light. “There you go, yeh sweet thing… Come to papa…”

There was a great splash, and in a flash of scales and muscles, the catfish Bill had been watching swallowed the bait and the hook whole. 

“Yeehaw!” Bill whooped, pulling hard on the makeshift rod. “Come on breakfast!”

Bill’s makeshift camp was set up just off of the main road leading east out of Lillyvale. His tired old riding hound was curled up beneath a tree, watching with utter boredom as Bill attempted to land his prize.

For a few moments an intense battle raged between man and fish, the water of the creek turning into a frothing maelstrom. And then, with a subtle ‘twang’ the line broke. 

In an instant the fish vanished back into the depths of the creek, taking the bait with it.

“Lord curse yeh you filthy son of a pelt whore!” Bill bellowed. 

He plunged his hand to his waistband and withdrew his pistol from a shabby leather holster, held together with a frayed length of string. The spark rune flickered to life and a large spray of water erupted from the surface of the creek as Bill fired. Six shots slammed into the water, each creating an impressive geyser, but the fish was long gone.

Reaching into his pocket, Bill tried to find some more ammunition, but found only a mere three bullets, a crumpled cigarette, and a collection of lint.

“Dammit all.” Bill growled, shoving his gun back into its holster.

This was not the way that Bill had envisioned spending his night. He’d followed Eloise and Azee from Lillyvale, staying as far back as he could until it had gotten dark enough that he could follow the glow of the lanterns hanging from Eloise’s cart. He’d followed them until they had arrived at the gates of the Windhill Mansion. Bill had considered going over the wall in pursuit of his quarry, but he knew better than to cross the Windhills, even if the current head of the family was a spoiled, soft-skulled brat.

In his youth Bill had been quite the scrapper, taking on anyone and everyone foolish enough to insult him, get in his way, or even simply look at him wrong.  He’d been the town’s bad-boy, handsome, rugged, an excellent card player (or at least good enough to cheat and not get caught), and able to fight his way out of most trouble. In his youth he’d been tempting fruit for various young women around town, whose fathers had forbidden them to see him. As a result of this roguish allure, he had more than a few bastards running around Lilyvale. Best of all, some of them belonged to the wives of men he knew, men who had the gall to turn their noses up at him. Bill found it amusing when he noticed them glancing at him, and then back at their supposed child, the brats’ resemblance to him a matter of some concern.

And now? Now he had a miserable old shrew for a wife, his home was little more than a shack, and his tabs had run so high that the only bar in town that would even allow him in the door was the Old Crow. And while Bill was certain he could still give a good pummeling to anyone fool enough to challenge him, the looks of fear he had once generated were gone, replaced by glances of indifference and contempt.  To make matters worse, that damned northerner, Eloise, dared to kick him out after pulling a gun on him? For a pelt no less!

The plan had been simple enough: wait for Eloise to drop the pelt off at the Windhill place, then deal with her as she returned to Lillyvale. The roads were dangerous, especially at night, and the swampy forests were full of pools of deep, dark water where a body would never be found. Just another victim of the road. Hell, she’d probably never even be missed.

The pelt would be another problem entirely, what with the Windhill brat treating it like a pet. But an anonymous report to the Order about some misbehaviour would probably be enough to get her dancing on the end of a rope.

“Too bad,” he’d muttered to himself. “Such a fine ass too.”

But Eloise had never emerged from the Windhill place! And now, after a night of sleeping on the ground, Bill was left standing on the shores of a muddy little creek, swearing and cursing at a catfish.

Showing his pistol back into its decaying holster, Bill set about kicking dirt onto his campfire, grumbling all the while. What an utter waste of his time.

“Get up you lazy sod!” Bill snarled, kicking the front leg of his hound. The animal grumbled to itself, but obediently got to its feet.

As Bill was finishing his packing, his ears picked up the sound of a waggon approaching.

‘Maybe this morning won’t be a total waste.’ He pondered, drawing his gun and creeping towards the roadway. If it was a small waggon, single driver, he was certain he could get the drop on them. All he had to do was take out the driver, search the waggon for valuables, then make his way back to town through the swamps. If he made sure someone saw him entering Lilyvale from the opposite direction, there would be no suspicion, and no problem. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. 

Hiding himself in a bush, Bill waited until the waggon came into view, revealing it to be a high class travelling buggy. His eyes widened as he noticed the Windhill family crest on the side, and the young master Windhill sitting in the driver's seat. As the buggy drew closer, he also caught sight of Eloise’s cart being pulled along behind it.

“What in the Lord’s name…” Bill frowned. “What is that dusty bitch doing with the Windhill kid?”

As the buggy rolled past, Bill caught sight of Windhill’s pet pelt, sitting on the back.

“Yep.” He muttered to himself, licking his lips. “That is a fine ass indeed…”

As the buggy rolled on out of sight, Bill stood up from his hiding place. 

Returning to camp, Bill pulled himself up onto his old hound. With a swift kick to the beast’s sides, he began making his way back towards the road.

‘Wonder what they’re up to…’ he pondered to himself as his hound trotted back towards Lillyvale, ‘Who knows, maybe I can have some fun with the Windhill brat as well.’



===



As the buggy trundled down the road, Azee shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable. Even the back of Eloise’s waggon had been better than the buggy’s slave seat, if only because the cart’s chain had been longer and it had been easier for her to move about. She also hated sitting backwards, it made her feel vulnerable and exposed, and the sight of the trees passing by in the wrong direction made her stomach turn.

Azee shifted again, trying to keep the sun’s glare out of her eyes. Even though the early morning air was cool and moist, the sun was only getting hotter with each passing minute.  No matter how she moved, she couldn’t get out of its glare, and the skin beneath her fur prickled. 

It was against the law in Halcyon for a slave to ride in a place where a human might sit, nor where they allowed to travel in a vehicle without being chained.

‘The non-human shall not occupy or be within any place wherein a path is plotted, a way forged, or a destiny decided. It is the Lord’s law that the non-human shall be guided only by the hand and wisdom of the human, for it is only through the grace of humanity that the proper path shall be chosen.’ The words flickered unbidden and unwelcome through Azee’s mind. ‘Chapter four, verse nine.’

Even among all the other repugnant pieces of scripture in the Lord’s Canon, Azee had always especially hated that verse. The rest of the scriptures might have been bloody minded and vicious, but at least they served some twisted logic. But this verse only made life more difficult for everyone. It meant the slaves were unable to drive carts for deliveries, or serve as drivers, or boat navigators. It also meant that carts had to be fitted with chains and spaces for the slaves to sit, assuming they weren’t simply forced to walk behind on some kind of leash.

Luke had always laughed the law off as something foolish, words taken out of context or twisted. Azee had never been able to tell him how very angry it made her, how the casual, vindictive cruelty felt like a grain of sand stuck in the corner of her eye.

The buggy bumped hard in a pothole, nearly knocking Azee out of her seat Fear of falling off and being dragged behind the buggy by her throat, or trampled by Eloise’s massive hounds, made her heart beat hard and fast as she desperately gripped the seat..

That damned law! Not an arm's length from her was the comfortable interior of the buggy, leather cushioned seats and soft cushions, not to mention shade. And yet here she sat, the dust of the road stinging her eyes, and the hot sun making her fur itch and burn. 

A powerful wave of frustration rolled over her, she wanted to yell and shout, to tear at the buggy with her claws. She wanted to kick and bite, to break something, anything. But she forced herself to stay silent. She was good at that, a fact that added yet more irritation. Thankfully, just as she was reaching the point of being unable to contain herself, the forest around the road grew thicker. The sun vanished behind the dark green canopy, with only the odd flash reaching through the leaves to the road.

Curling her knees up under her chin and wedging herself into the seat, Azee sighed heavily. 

Before she knew it, the events of the previous day and night began to take their toll. For the first time she noticed how her muscles hurt, the aching in her ribs from crashing down the stairs, and the throbbing in her wrist from Luke’s gun. Before she knew it, her thoughts started to drift, her mind unable to focus. Her head grew heavy, and it took a greater and greater effort to keep her eyes open.

‘Is it that the collar has stopped working… is that why it’s so annoying?’ She pondered, letting out a long yawn.

That didn’t feel like the right answer.

Azee curled her tail up around her, leaning against it like a pillow. 

‘Even if it’s only a little bit of freedom, even if it’s only for a little time, there is nothing you would not do in order to hold on to it.’

“Kashin…” Azee mumbled to herself as her eyes drifted closed. “I think… I think I finally understand…”

Within moments, Azee was asleep.



===



Keeping a firm grip on the reins, Luke’s eyes swept the forest on either side of the road. While it was uncommon for raiders or highway robbers to look for prey at this hour, or indeed for them to operate too close to a town, he had no intention of being surprised again.

“Azee’s fallen asleep.” Eloise remarked, climbing into the driver’s box and sitting down beside Luke. “Poor thing must be exhausted.”

“Azee is not ‘thing’.” Luke replied sharply, careful to keep his voice low enough that it would not disturb Azee’s slumber.

“A strange statement coming from the man who has a piece of paper in his billfold that says she is quite literally his property.”

“Which is the law, and you know it! It protects her as well!”

“She is still a slave, one amongst many.”

“Azee is a great deal more than a slave to me and you know it.”

“But does she?”

“She should!” Luke snapped. “She did, before-”

“Before you sold her sister?” Eloise interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“Before you started filling her head with heratical nonsense!” Luke glared at Eloise, rage burning in his eyes. “All of this could have been settled by now. She hit me and got scared, so what? We could have worked it out quietly. But now? If the Order gets even the slightest hint of what has happened, they’ll dissect her! They probably wouldn’t even do her the kindness of killing her first!”

“It is a distinct possibility.”

“Then I hope you’re proud of yourself. Azee’s life wasn’t perfect, but I could at least make her happy.”

“Would you have been happy in her place?”

“That’s not got anything to do with this! This is about Azee, not about me.”

“It has everything to do with you.” Eloise’s tone darkened as she turned to meet Luke’s gaze. “You are an intelligent man, Master Windhill, despite your foolhardy efforts to live with a foot in each world.”

Luke was genuinely taken aback. “What?”

“On one hand, you are Luke Windhill, master of the Windhill Ranch, ​​paterfamilias of the great Windhill family. Slaves shudder in terror when they hear that a member of your family will be attending an auction where they are to be sold. The slaves sold from your Ranch are considered to be of the highest quality, worth almost two of their peers.”
Luke felt an unpleasant knot growing in his stomach as Eloise spoke.

“And yet, you treat Azee, a scrawny, wholly unremarkable runt, as if she were a pet. In fact, no, much more than that; you treat her as if you were a potential mate for her. You dote on her and protect her from the order, despite the fact that you are the reason she needs protecting in the first place, to the point of putting yourself at risk. You were even willing to turn a blind eye when she had the temerity to strike you. And then there is her sister…”

“What about her?” Luke demanded, trying and failing to mask the sudden wave of apprehension that flooded through him at Eloise’s words.

 “I am willing to wager that selling her sister was not something you simply decided to do for the sake of good business.”

“And?”

“You were protecting Azee.” Eloise smiled as Luke visibly stiffened beside her. “Azee is far too angry to see it at the moment, but I am not. I imagine that her sister got herself wrapped up in something dangerous, and you wanted to keep Azee as far away from it as possible, even if that meant separating her from the only family she had ever known.”
Luke’s sullen silence was all Eoise needed to confirm her suspicions.

“So on the one hand, you are the slave master your linage and position demands of you. You force your slaves to breed and clearly have no trouble using physical punishment and torture to enforce your will. And yet, on the other hand, you keep one of these creatures close to you. You care for her, make sacrifices for her, insignificant though they may be, and grow furious at the mere notion of someone doing her harm.”
Luke’s breath hitched slightly as he glared at Eloise, every scrap of effort directed towards remaining calm. “And what of it? Other masters have favoured slaves.”

“None like Azee.”

“Get to it witch!”

“I’d keep your voice down if I were you master Windhill, lest you wish for Azee to be privy to this conversation.”

Immediately Luke paused, only for fresh rage to surge through him as a satisfied smile crossed Eloise’s face.

“My point, boy, is that you and I both know full well that the way you treat Azee puts your own position, perhaps at a stretch, even your life at risk. She isn’t a pet, or a toy, or even some sort of concubine. You are attempting to live in a world where you can be ‘Master Luke Windhill’ one moment, and a caring lover to one of the very creatures you are normally so apathetic towards.”

“I… I may be apathetic towards the others, that is true. But Azee isn’t like the others.”

“Oh come now, she is exactly the same as the others. There is only one major difference between Azee and the slaves you keep in your barns, for some reason you care about her. You loosened the chain around her throat, you let her run, and so she ran. She learned to read, she became more confident, and came to believe that she was more than the beast of burden she was taught she was.”

“I gave her those things because she was different!”

“You gave her nothing, Windhill, nothing that she wouldn’t have reached for on her own, that any of your slaves wouldn’t reach for on their own given the right circumstaces. Her blood, her fur, her mind, they are the same as the others.”

“Oh… I see now, so not only are you a witch, and a heretic, you’re an abolitionist.” Luke shook his head and scoffed. “What other foolishness do you believe?”

“Foolishness? Child, coming from someone as incredibly deluded as you, that could almost be considered a compliment.”

Immediately Luke’s scorn was replaced by anger. “How dare you!”

“Ah ah, the baby is still sleeping, remember.” Eloise crooned mockingly

“Do you really think me so blind that I would accept that your interest in Azee stems from mere kindness?” Luke spat back, lowering his voice again. “You’re no saint, witch! I’ve seen the way you watch her, like a scientist observing an interesting reaction.”

“That is merely an attempt at deflection, Master Windhill, and a crude one at that,” Eloise chuckled. “Still, I do not deny it. Azee is a fascinating creature. It takes more than mere strength to overcome a rune such as the one you placed on her.”

“So what was it then?” Luke demanded. “How did she break free.”

“Break free? Is that an admission I hear?”

“Admission? Admission of what?”

“That, at the end of the day, Azee is still a slave, no matter how many dresses you put her in, or how many books you read to her.”

As Eloise spoke, a stiff breeze rustled the trees along the roadway, as if to punctuate her words. Luke opened his mouth to speak, but could think of nothing to say. 

“As for how she broke free from the collar, I do not know. I have my suspicions, but for now I am content to simply watch how all this plays out.”

“My life is not something for you to play with, and neither is hers!”

“Afraid I will treat you like you do Azee?” Eloise glanced over again, a wry smile on her face. “Or worse, perhaps like your other less favoured slaves.”

“I’ll have your head for this.” Luke snarled. “I swear it. And if Azee gets hurt, there will be no force in this world, not even the Lord herself, that will stop me from tearing you to pieces.”

Utterly unperturbed by Luke’s threat, but seeing no value in continuing the conversation, Eloise stood up from her seat. Eloise looked down at Luke, a teacher scolding a foolish child. “Please believe me, if Azee gets hurt, getting revenge on me will be the very least of your problems, boy.”



===



As she awakened, Azee had no idea where she was. It was dark and cool, but there were hushed noises all around. For a few moments, she wondered if perhaps the events of the last few days had been nothing but a terrible dream. 
But a quick sniff of the air brought everything crashing back. Judging by the smell of stale beer, old wood, and unwashed humans, she was back at the Old Crow.

As she slowly began to sit up, Azee noticed that she was no longer chained to the back of the buggy, but rather curled up on one of the soft leather seats inside. Moments later she noticed that her head was not resting on a cushion, but on a folded up coat.

‘Huh… that’s-’

As the cobwebs of sleep left her, Azee noticed the feeling of a hand on her back. Her eyes flew open and she looked up, mid yawn, realising that she was dozing on Luke’s leg. Luke was leaning against the side of the carriage, also fast asleep. Azee’s heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened.

Awakened by Azee’s shifting, Luke blinked and looked down. 

“Oh hey,” he mumbled, dark circles still under his eyes as he yawned. Without thinking he tightened his grip, pulling Azee against him. “Sleep well?”

“Get off me!” Azee shouted, scrambling up, kicking and thrashing.

 In a flurry of legs, arms, and fur, Azee exploded over the side of the buggy. Her feet were already running in midair before she hit the ground, scrambling towards the wall. Luke, on the other hand, tried to get out of reach of Azee’s flailing feet. A final kick as Azee escaped sent him tumbling backwards out the other side of the buggy. Luke landed painfully on the hard dirt floor with an audible thud.

“No need to be so dramatic,” Luke groaned, picking himself up and brushing off his jacket. “A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed.”

“Get away from me!” Azee snarled, the fur on her shoudlers bristling. “I don’t want you touching me, ever!”

“I was merely attempting to make you comfortable.” Luke snapped, annoyed by the ache in his side from the fall, combined with Azee’s unexpected anger. “You were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you. I couldn’t just leave you chained up.”

“You never had that problem before!”

“I never left you chained up if I could-”

“Just… don’t touch me!” Azee snapped, shaking like a leaf, more angry than afraid. “In fact, I order you not to touch me again unless I specifically tell you to!”

Luke blinked and took an involuntary step backwards. He hadn’t been so foolish as to expect that Azee would fall into his arms again from one small act of kindness, but her reaction was far from what he had expected. Usually she would be grateful and a little bashful at his displays of affection, at worst slightly embarrassed; but this time there was genuine anger in her tone and on her face.

A horrible sinking feeling set in as Luke realised that his Azee was much farther away from him than he could ever have imagined.

“What are we doing here?” She demanded, crossing her arms across her chest as if she were covering herself, a hint of pink on her nose.

“The witch said that she had business to attend to before we headed out.” 

“Fine.”

Luke took a moment to examine his pocket watch. “But that was four hours ago. Lord knows where she is now or what she is up to.”

“Fine. Just…” Azee looked away and slid down the wall. “Just… stay away from me.”

As Luke watched her, Azee felt a wave of discomfort. 

In all her life she’d never felt embarrassed around Luke, even when only in the fur. Some of the slaves wore limited articles of clothing, loin cloths or shawls, but most simply saw such things as pointless, or as ‘smoothskin nonsense’. For her part, Azee simply preferred to avoid clothing when possible, it was hot, it caught on things, and it was just one more thing to worry about. Sometimes, during formal functions at the ranch, she and the other house slaves had been instructed to put on clothing, to show off the Windhill’s wealth and extravagance. Such clothes were often uncomfortable, covered in buttons and baubles that pulled on fur and pinched the skin, and in Azee’s view looked utterly ridiculous.

 All other times she saw no need, unless of course when she was cooking and required an apron. Besides, she had shared Luke’s bed quite often, he had seen every inch of her and she of him. Yet now, for some reason, as Lukke looked at her with a mixture of surprise and concern, she felt very exposed.

“What is it?” Luke asked, noting Azee’s discomfort.

“Nothing.” she grumbled,  pulling her knees up to her chin and glaring at Luke. One of the draft hounds stuck its head over the boards of its stable and gently rubbed its nose on the top of her head.

“Azee… we really do need to talk about this situation.”

“I don’t want to talk.” She grumbled.

“This is madness, and you know it,” Luke exclaimed, tossing his jacket aside. “If the Order finds out the you had me cursed… Azee they’ll kill you.”

“You’re going to do that anyway.”

Luke shook his head, “Azee… no, never.”

Azee looked up at Luke again, searching for any trace of dishonesty, but there was none.

“What about when I get old, or weak, or get hurt.” Her eyes narrowed, “You’d have me culled, don’t even try to deny it.”

Luke didn’t answer, instead meeting Azee’s gaze evenly. 

Again, Azee could sense no dishonesty, which only made her angrier.

“You just can’t stand not being in control.” She said at last, her ears flattening against her head. “You hate it when you’re not the ‘master’.”

“I never asked to be in my position,” Luke snapped, the anger in his tone startling Azee. “I was born with responsibilities and duties, the same as you.”

“Don’t you dare compare us!” Azee shouted back, abandoning her caution. “You’ve never been hungry! You’ve never been whipped, or beaten, or rape-” the word froze in Azee’s throat. 

Snarling in frustration,  she forced herself to speak again. “You haven’t spent your whole life being told to do things you didn’t want to do! No reward, no appreciation, no thank you, not even a guarantee of a bed and a meal!”

“What are you talking about? I’ve always made sure you were well looked after!”

“And what about the others!?” Now Azee was on her feet, her fur rippling. “What about Tzana, or Rose, or Fray, or Tasch, or Keeli, or any of the others!”

“I’ve done everything within the law to make things better!” Luke’s temper got the best of him and he took a menacing step forwards. “I’ve increased rations, I’ve given them an extra half hour of sleep, and I’ve told Comb and the others to tone down the beatings!”

“You could have fired him! Why does Comb even still work for you? He’s a monster!”

“He’s a friend of the family! And he keeps things running!”

“He’s a bastard, and he does more harm than good! He broke Drayle’s wrist so badly he couldn’t work right for months!”

“Comb’s job is to keep things running, to make sure that the work that needs to be done gets done! I am running a business, Azee!”

“Fuck your business!”

“Azee!”

Azee felt the same powerful, all consuming rage she had felt the night before rising in her chest. 

‘Language Azee, language, you aren’t in the barn anymore.’

“No!” Azee roared, her nose wrinkling and her teeth flashing in the dim half-light of the stable. “Don’t you ‘Azee’ me! I’ll say what I want! I’ll do what I want! For the first time in my life I am free and you are the slave! So fuck your business, fuck your family, and fuck you Luke!”

The words seemed to echo in the stable as both Azee and Luke fell silent. Even the hounds were quiet, watching the exchange with uncomprehending interest. 

“So, there it i,.” Luke said at last, folding his arms across his chest. “You can act as indignant and righteous all you like, but in the end this is nothing but revenge.”

“No it’s not.”

“All I’ve done to try and keep you safe and comfortable, and none of it matters to you. The moment you don’t need me to protect you, I am a villain.”

“I don’t want or need your protection,” Azee muttered, stepping back and sliding down the wall again. “I just want my sister back… and I can’t be a slave anymore, I won’t.”

As his anger subsided, Luke felt a great hole open in his chest. The sight of Azee, looking so angry and exhausted at the same time was harder for him to bear than he would have expected.

He wasn’t foolish, he knew there were times when the realities of the ranch bothered her, when his duties as the family head made Azee uncomfortable. But he had never tried to hurt her. He’d always tried to keep her isolated from the horrors of reality, to make her feel safe. And yet, somehow, despite all of his efforts, he’d failed spectacularly.  

Sighing heavily, he stepped back and sat on the edge of the buggy. “From the moment I took over from my father, I have never treated you like a slave Azee.”

“You give me orders and expect me to follow them. Azee get my my lunch, Azee clean my study, Azee come to bed.”

“Oh come now!” Luke scoffed, “I never ordered you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

“I can tell when you are lying, remember.” Azee replied dryly. “Even you aren’t foolish enough to believe that.”

“I never tried to hurt you.”

“And yet you managed it all the same.”

“Azee-”

“Enough!” Azee snapped. “I don’t want to talk anymore. Just… leave me alone.” 

Crossing his arms, Luke leaned back against the buggy’s seat. “Fine then, have it your way.” 

The moment Luke managed to make himself comfortable, the door at the end of the barn burst open. Luke winced as bright light poured into the darkened stable, temporarily blinding him.

“Now don’t you move, either of you!” Bill bellowed, pointing his pistol at Azee, then at Luke.

Luke raised his hand to shield his eyes from the light. “Graves? What in damnation are you doing here?”

“You should be thankin’ me Master Windhill.” Bill crowed, keeping his gun raised as he stepped into the stable. “Sounds t’me like this ‘ere pelt ‘as you in a bind.”

Her eyes widening in fright, Azee started to order Luke to fight. But the moment she opened her  mouth a shot rang out. There was a sudden, blinding explosion of pain as a bullet tore through her left ear and buried itself in the wall behind her.

“AZEE NO!” Luke howled, leaping up and going for his own weapon. Before he could draw, Bill shifted to aim at him again.

“You jus’ keep your hands where I can see ‘em!” Bill shouted, unable to keep a hint of glee out of his voice. 

“What in damnation do you think you are doing?”

“Now, ‘ere’s what we’re gonna do, yer gonna take out that pretty little piece and toss it over to me. Then the three of us’re gonna go fer a little walk to see the Order. An’ if that pretty little pelt wants to keep her skull in one piece, she’s gonna keep ‘er mouth shut.”

Azee clutched at the bloody remnants of her ear, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She was no stranger to pain, she’d suffered all manner of cuts, burns, bruises and beatings over the years. She’d even been whipped on several occasions, the pain of which had nearly caused her to pass out. But this pain was something different entirely, far hotter and all consuming. The sound of the shot still rang in her ears, as did the roar of rushing blood and her heartbeat.

Through the haze of pain and noise, she could hear the muffled sound of an argument. Her vision spun, the light from the stable door blindingly bright, the figure of Bill little more than a dark blur. But as she blinked to try and clear her vision, a shadow fell across her face as someone stepped in front of her.

“What in the Lord’s name‘re you doin’?” Bill demanded, waving his gun at Luke.

“This is my business and my business alone Graves.” Luke replied, putting himself between Azee and Bill. “Go back to your little raft and stay out of my way.”

“You think I didn’t hear the way tha’ pelt was talkin’ to yeh?” Bill barked. “She should be swingin’ from a tree fer talking to a human like that!”

“She is my slave, I will deal with it.”

“My ass you will! I ain’t lettin you cut me outta this Windhill, I saved yer life here, and you owe me!”

“I don’t owe you a thing Graves. Now get lost, and maybe I’ll forget that you had the exceptionally poor sense to aim a gun at me.”

“You fancy pants lil’ brat, what with yer fancy words. Fine, but we’ll just see what the Order thinks of all this.” Bill started to back up, keeping his gun trained on Luke. “You so much as twitch boy, and I’ll plug you good, you hear.”

Luke’s mind raced as Bill stepped backwards towards the alleyway between the bar and the barbershop next door. If he managed to get to the street, it was all over. But as fast as Luke was, even he knew that attempting to lower his hands, draw, and then shoot someone who already had his gun drawn and aimed, was suicide. 

‘Even if I manage to move… he might hit Azee.’ Luke gritted his teeth. ‘Dammit all!’

Watching for any movement from Luke, Bill kept stepping back.

“Imagine wha’ the Order will think when they find out tha Windhill is a Pelt sympathiser!” Bill called out. “Can you imagine the reward?”

‘Might even be enough fer me to settle down someplace nice,’ he grinned to himself. ‘Hell, if Mabelle were to suffer some kinda accident, I might even find me a nice young thing to shack up with.’

As he reached the side of the Old Crow, Bill spun around the corner, making to sprint for the road. Instead, he came face to face with Eloise.

“That’s quite enough of that I should think.”

“Wha-” was all Bill managed to shout before Eloise drew her knife and plunged it into his throat. Bill stumbled backwards a few steps, before crashing onto his back, shakily trying to stop the blood flowing from the wound. He tried to call out, but found he could do little but make choking, gurgling sounds as his lungs filled with blood.

“Ah Ah Ah,” Eloise muttered softly, kneeling down beside Bill. “If you could, It would be most apprecaited if you didn’t die for just a few more moments.”

As she spoke, Eloise withdrew a piece of Catalyst crystal from her dress. A strange symbol was carved into the crystal, jagged and complex, with a strange reddish glow emanating from its core.  

With a quick slash of her knife, Eloise opened the front of Bill’s shirt and placed the crystal upon his still quivering chest.

“There we are.”

Eloise pressed a finger upon the centre of the rune and stepped back. In an instant, the blood in Bill’s veins began to glow, pale red lines emerging from under his skin. The light writhed and twisted into tendrils, joining one another and snaking over Bill’s body to the crystal on his chest.

Forgetting for a moment about Bill, Luke turned and knelt down in front of Azee. “Azee! Are you alright?”

“L-Luke?”

Reaching down to his vest, Luke withdrew a silken handkerchief and pressed it against Azee’s ear. He winced as he noted a scrap of torn flesh hanging loose, bound by only a thin strand of skin.

“There we go, there we go. You’re going to be alright.”

“It really hurts…” Azee whimpered. “D-did I lose my ear?”

“Nah.” Luke replied, summoning the most carefree smile he could manage. “But you are going to be missing a little chunk.”

“I… I can't hear anything out of it…”

A cold feeling ran up Luke’s spine. Leaning close, he could see a thin trail of blood running from the inside of Azee’s ear, down the side of her chin. 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. Besides, a little scar will make you look tougher. Speaking of, hold still for a moment.”

“Huh? Wh-” 

As fast as he could, Luke took hold of the loose piece of Azee’s ear and pulled. Azee cried out as the piece came loose, and Luke tossed it away.

“It’s okay.” he said, gently touching the side of Azee’s face. “It’s all over, it’s okay.”

As Luke touched her, despite the haze of pain, Azee felt a flicker of her earlier anger flare up again. But Luke’s touch was so gentle, so caring, that she didn’t say anything, instead drawing comfort from it as she tried not to whimper like a pup.

“Finally, a use for you.” Eloise said, gazing down at Bill’s lifeless form. His eyes were wide and unseeing, his mouth frozen in a silent gasp. 

Eloise gently removed the crystal from Bill’s chest and held it in her hand. The stone now glowed with an eerie red light that illuminated her palm.

“Charlie won’t like it, but I suppose we’ll call it even on your tab.” 

“What did you do to him?” Luke asked, turning from Azee as Eloise approached.

“I cleaned the mess you’d made.” Eloise replied, kneeling down and examining Azee’s torn ear. “Though I suppose I am partly to blame as well. I had rather hoped he would have been smart enough not to actually try anything. If I’d known he was this brainless I’d have dealt with him last night.”

“Last night?”

“Mmm, he followed Azee and I to your house, and then again this morning on our way back into town.” 

Luke blinked in surprise. “H-how did you- If you knew he was there why didn’t you-” He paused and shook his head. “You know what, never mind, I am certain I do not want to know.”

“Indeed.” Eloise gently felt the flesh around the tear in Azee’s ear before getting back to her feet. “You’ll be fine dear, the wound is clean. Though it would seem that the shot may have deafened you. At least partially”

“Can you fix it?” Luke asked.

“Fix it?”

“Yes, fix it, like you fixed me.”

Eloise raised an eyebrow. “Master Windhill I saved your life from a grievous injury, this is a scratch, hardly worth the energy it would take.”

“Do it.” Luke commanded, getting to his feet and glaring at Eloise. “Heal her, now.”

“Listen to me, boy, I don’t-”

“I’ll pay you.” Luke interrupted. “Whatever you want, it’s yours. Just fix her and take the pain away, now.”

Eloise examined Luke, searching his face. 

‘This has to be some kind of trick, a way of misleading the girl and…’ Eloise tilted her head. ‘No… he really means it… The girl’s pain truly is affecting him. Interesting.’

“You are an odd man, Master Windhill.” Eloise said at last. “Very well then, we’ll talk later about what you owe me.”

“Fine, just get to it.”

Kneeling down in front of Azee, Eloise withdrew a pair of crystals from a pocket of her dress, the red one she had just taken from Bill, and another that glowed pale blue.

“Hold still, little one.” She said softly, examining the torn, bleeding flesh. “This will only take a moment.”

Eloise tapped the regular piece of catalyst crystal against the red one. A gossamer thin strand of red light connected the two crystals as Eloise brought the blue rune towards Azee’s ear.

“What is that?” Azee asked, shifting back, the baleful glow of the red crystal sending terrified shivers down her spine. Her skin writhed, as if her own flesh was trying to get away from the stone.

Instead of replying, Eloise pulled out her knife and pricked Azee’s right arm with the point. As Azee yelped and looked down at her arm, Eloise took advantage of the distraction, seized her damaged ear, and pressed the blue rune against it.

Azee tried to howl in agony, but with her free hand Eloise grabbed hold of her muzzle and held her mouth shut. 

“Don’t fight,” she commanded, holding Azee as still as she could. “It’s alright, you’re going to be alright! Just hold still for a few more seconds.”

Azee’s ear felt as if it were on fire, as if thousands of red hot insects were crawling over and through her flesh. She wanted to cry out so badly, but Eloise’s grip was like a vice. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the burning stopped. 

“There you go.” Eloise smiled as she leaned back, releasing her grip on Azee’s muzzle and replacing the crystals in her dress. 

Blinking back pained tears, Azee hesitantly reached up and touched her ear. The ringing was gone and her hearing had returned, and she could feel no blood or pain.

Azee turned to Eloise“I-it’s fixed?”

Eloise nodded, smiling at Azee as she patted her on the shoulder. “All fixed up.”

“What in the Lord’s name did you do?” Luke demanded. “It looks completely different!”

“I’m sorry,” Eloise turned and glared at Luke, “Is the miracle I just performed not up to your standards? Perhaps you didn’t notice, but she has an ear again!”

“It’s white!”

“W-white?” Azee turned her head, but was unable to catch a glimpse of her ear.

With an exasperated sigh, Eloise turned her knife so that Azee could see her reflection on the flat of the blade. The top half of her left ear was indeed white.

“That’s not the way it is supposed to be.” Luke pressed. “Fix it!”

“Now listen here, you arrogant little prat! I’ve-”

“I like it.”

Both Luke and Eloise froze and looked down at Azee. After a few more moments of examining her reflection, Azee looked up at both of them, eyes bright and tail wagging. “I like it a lot.”

“But… Azee it’s the wrong colour!”

“I know.” Azee grinned, hopping to her feet. “But I like it.”

“There, you see mister Windhill, she likes it.” A wry smile crossed Eloise’s face as she reached out and patted Azee on the shoulder.

“But I-” Luke paused. It wasn’t like the white on Azee’s ear was ugly, in fact it was rather fetching, a touch of uniqueness that made her seem even more alluring. But it was different… she was different.

‘I just want my Azee back…’ Luke felt his heart sinking in his chest. 

“It’s fine,” Luke said at last, managing a smile. “If it makes you happy… then I like it as well. You look… beautiful Azee.”

Azee could sense the lie in Luke’s words, but she could also sense the conflict within him. She considered pressing the issue, she considered getting angry that he would presume to have any say, but the idea of fighting with Luke again held no appeal.

Instead, she turned to Eloise and bowed her head. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, little one. Now, I think we should be getting a move on if we want to get anywhere before nightfall.”

“What about him?” Luke asked, nodding back at Bill’s body.

“I have an idea about that,” Eloise replied. “In fact, I rather suspect that old Bill is going to be more useful to us in death than he was to anybody in life.”


End of Part 7
