The Gift
(Original Version)

by Trystl

Chapter One

1

Damian woke up.

The sun, shining through the sky-lamp and into his eyes, had given him a headache that began to crowd out what lingered of his dream. In exhausted disgust he rolled onto his side�moaning as the sudden movement made his head throb�and thrust his head beneath the pillow.

He remembered dreaming of being female. His waking conscience had transformed the sweetness of his dreaming bliss into a less innocent delight of having total control over her body. Stretching his stiff muscles, he pressed his palms against his temple massaging the pain out of his head. He felt groggy, and awkward with a profound weakness.

The skin along his stomach pulled taunt as he writhed beneath the silky sheets, and shrugged off the last vestige of feminine manner with a dry mouthed yawn.

The girl of his dream had been a puppet: yet he had been aware of every inch of her nakedness as the sheets rubbed against her skin. She had blushed�a crimson washing over her achromatic face and shoulders�as the ever-present dream observer grabbed her by the hair, rocking her head back to expose her long white neck. Lips parted slightly, teasing�her tongue tickling as it flicked gently over her pearly white teeth, and licked her blood red lips.

Where have I seen you?

He snapped out of his reverie with a start. From the angle of the sun�s rays, it had to be almost noon. The timepiece on his dresser�an elaborate dome-shaped glass, housing a complex of gears and springs and suspended weights�confirmed his suspicions: it was eleven thirty-seven.

He had missed the meeting of council.

That was not like him, but he was too groggy to express his growing anger just yet. How could I have let myself oversleep, he wondered. And why do I feel so groggy...almost as if I had been drugged. Suddenly he began to remember. �Tereesan!� he said aloud. But how did he do it, and for what purpose. He looked around his room, wondering how he had gotten home; and the events from the night before began to play over in his head...

2

The door promptly opened when Damian knocked.

�It�s good to see you, Damian,� said a woman with the purest traits of Mordian blood. �And you, dear,� she said nodding to Shalis, Damian�s young escort.

She must have been waiting for me, he thought.

He acknowledged the woman with a slight nod. The perfection of her pedigree breading did not impress Damian, but she had the classic Mordian beauty: long tassels of dark, curly hair neatly framing an aristocratic face; and the torchlight glow from the hall accented her hair with red highlights. The simple dress she wore clung to her waspish waist, and gave stiff support to her large breasts.

Her huge brown eyes sparkled as she bowed formally, further revealing her cleavage. �Tereesan and Serria are waiting for you in the great hall.� Her voice was much to intimate for a drudge.

She lead them down the hall to the first set of doors, which she threw open with a sweeping gesture.

Damian walked inside guiding the pale child beside him into the large open room. Three young dancing girls entertained from a raised platform dominating the center of the room. They wore traditional dresses: conservative whites to contrast with their dark hair and complexion. Tereesan and a woman, wearing a black silk skirt, with the slit-sided cut of a slave�s tunic, and a matching low-cut sweater, were watching the dancing from a divan piled high with pillows.

The Mordian woman announced Damian, and Tereesan rose to his feet to greet him. �Welcome, Damian!� he said pointing to the woman on the divan. �I don�t believe you�ve meet Serria.�

Damian studied the woman for a moment. She was not from any bloodlines that he recognized, nor could he distinguish any dominant phylo elements; but she was provocative sitting with her long legs crossed to one side. When she saw how Damian looked at her she smiled with a sensuous confidence.

He noticed the red choker she wore was set with a blue stone, cut in the shape of an �S� instead of the customary �T� for Tereesan.

�And you, Shalis!� Tereesan said taking the achromatic girl�s hand and raising it to his forehead: a greeting befitting the escort of royalty. �It�s good to see you once again.� She blushed brightly, but Tereesan seemed not to notice. He turned to Damian and motioned towards the divan beside Serria.

When Damian and Shalis had taken their seats, Tereesan sat down again. �Would either of you care for something to eat?� he asked.

Damian bristled at Tereesan�s lack of deference, but Shalis, knew better than to speak for her self. When he had paused long enough to stress Shalis� silence, Damian turned to answer Tereesan. �I would indeed enjoy that meal you promised.�

�Very good.� Tereesan turned to the Mordian woman. �Savyn dear,� he said. �Bring us some food.�

Savyn bowed gracefully, and hurried from the room.

�Please, sit.� Tereesan said, pointing out a spot beside Serria. �Do you enjoy the dance art?�

�I prefer a less artistic interpretation, I�m afraid.� Damian said. He pulled Shalis close to his side, griping her leg possessively in his hand; and a dark blush colored her face.

�What of you, Shalis?� Damian said, his voice thick with sarcasm, as he inched his way up her leg. �Do you prefer the dance art, or secular dancing?� He tugged on a few of her fleecy-white, pubic hairs, twining them about his fingers. �Perhaps Tereesan would allow you to dance for us, now.�

He looked at the healer, daring him to deny his request.

�I would love to see Shalis dance!� Tereesan said with such robust enthusiasm that it made his polite acceptance anything but demeaning as Damian had intended.

�Please my lord,� Shalis said burying her head against Damian�s shoulder. �I know nothing of dancing.�

Damian kissed her ear, and whispered. �I don�t expect perfection, little pet. I just want to see you dance.�

The healer turned to Shalis. �Would you like to request a musical accompaniment,� he said in an intimate tone that excluded Damian from answering.

Inside he raged, but outwardly Damian remained calm, and when Shalis looked at him beseechingly�hoping that he might remove his request�he intentionally misinterpreted her gesture, and spoke for her. �I would like her to dance to the Horl-festival-chant,� he said, choosing the ritual dance for its difficult and suggestively sexual nature. �Are your musicians familiar with it?�

Tereesan glanced at Shalis.

�But I�ve never danced, before my lord!� she objected.

�Perhaps, something less challenging,� Tereesan suggested. �My musicians, I�m afraid would not do such a piece justice.�

�Shalis could entertain us with a secular dance set to one of the themes from Morlain�s lament,� Serria said, speaking for the first time. Morchir�s-duet holds quite an erotic mood.�

�Yes,� Tereesan nodded, turning to Damian. �If one of my dancers may accompany Shalis�I think Jolnima and her would make a striking pair!�

�By all means!�

Tereesan clapped his hands, and the dancing girls left the center stage�dropping to their knees, in a motionless little row, with heads bowed.

�Jolnima is my prize.� Tereesan said, clapping his hands again.

The tallest of the girls sprang to her feet, bouncing on her toes towards Tereesan�s place on the pillows. She gave a sprightly curtsey: the wispy tassels of her dress flew into the air as she sank to the floor, and bounced back up. Then she fell to her knees a half arms length from Tereesan.

�I won Jolnima from the Royal Palace on a sporting bet,� Tereesan said. �She had not finished her training then, so I can not claim that she is Royal trained, but she comes from a long line of Royal Dancers.�

Tereesan turned to the dancing girl and addressed her personally. �My guest, Shalis, has agreed to perform to Morchir�s-duet,� he said. �Would you accompany her, Jolnima?

The dancer nodded and sprang to her feet�taking Shalis by the hands and coaxing her to her feet. She took Shalis under her arm, shuffling her away towards the stage, whispering instructions but never loosing her fluid sense of the dance art. When they reached the other girls, Jolnima quickly doffed her dress, while the other dancers helped Shalis slip the tunic over her head.

�Ah,� Serria announced the Mordian woman�s return. �Savyn has brought our food.�

Three women, of mixed breeding, marched behind her carrying silver platters laden with foods. They spread the silver out on the floor before the divan as the musicians struck up the first few eerie notes of the duet�s introduction. The girls scrambled to take their places on the stage�they stood back to back: naked bodies, dark beside pale.

�Shalis really is quite a pretty child.� Serria remarked as she leaned forward to snare a handful of pickled acorns.

So, Damian thought. The acorns are safe to eat. �Do you think she�ll retain her youthful figure,� he asked. �Or will her Romastion blood give way to another phylo?�

�She won�t loose her girlish figure.� Serria said with total assurance. She bit into another acorn and drew it into her sensuous mouth. �Are you considering a bid to buy her?�

�I find her innocence tempting,� Damian said.

They watched her dance: she was not as fluidly graceful as Jolnima, but there was a quality about her body and the initial hesitancy with which she moved that was indeed alluring.

�Please,� Tereesan said motioning to the platters of food. �We�ve plenty to eat.� He picked out a biscuit with bits of meat and vegetables. Another platter was laden with fruit salad spiced with herbs and sweetened with thin, light-brown syrup that was probably maple sap; another platter held pickled vegetables, served in a minty sauce; another peppers, tomatoes and other cooking fruits stuffed with minced meats and topped heartily with Rolavian white cheese.

Damian selected a few acorns out of the same pile from which Serria was eating; then he turned his attention back to the girls. Shalis watched the way Jolnima moved and tried to copy the dancer. Her hips were not quite as loose, and her body was not as limber, but Shalis improved as the dance progressed. As she began to relax, the charm of her childish awkwardness was replaced by an awakening of her own sensuality.

You�re definitely marketable, child, Damian thought.

Serria casually placed her hand on Damian�s knee. �Yarvin is rather fond of the girl,� she said with a smile. �You may find it difficult to convince him to part with her.�

�I could speak to him for you,� Tereesan said. �If you�re really interested in the girl. He owes me a favor or two: perhaps I could persuade him to part with her.�

�In exchange for...what?� Damian took another handful of acorns, and studied the healer as he popped them one at a time into his mouth. �Surely you don�t expect to buy my support so easily.�

�Of course not,� Tereesan said with a laugh.

�The music is ending,� Serria said. �Perhaps we should have a drink and something to eat before we talk of business.�

�After you,� Damian said.

Serria smiled, her eyes sparkling. �Of course,� she said. �Is Kumiss and vitriol all right?�

�A gentle drop of Golden vitriol would be fine. Is it local Kumiss or is it Zylomian Phydmilk?�

Serria shook her head. �I don�t approve of Zylomian methods,� she said.

�Just curious,� Damian said, an amused smile playing across his lips as he nodded his courteous acceptance of the less expensive substitute.

�Savyn,� Serria said. �Pour us all drinks, please.�

Tereesan turned to the dancing girls and clapped heartily as they stepped down from the stage.

Quickly the Mordian woman prepared four glasses of ice on a tray, then poured the drinks, and presented them to Damian. He selected one; waiting until Tereesan and Serria had taken sips from theirs before he took his first sip.

Damian offered Shalis permission to eat, and wrapped his arm around her waist as she helped herself to the stuffed vegetables. When she had taken several bites, he took some for himself.

�You don�t think we would try to poison you?� Tereesan said, raising his glass in a solo toast then draining it dry. �See,� he said handing his glass back to Savyn. She refilled his glass and he took another long drink before setting it off to the side.

�Would you like me to sample yours?� Serria asked sweetly.

�That wont be necessary,� Damian said taking another sip. The liquid seemed to rush to his head. �A fine vintage!� he said, raising his glass. �And now should we discuss business?�

�Of course,� Tereesan said. �I assume you�ve read my proposal.�

Damian nodded, sipping at his drink. �An interesting idea: excavating earth from Slutin lake during the dry season to make its reservoirs more lasting the next time the river dries up. But I fail to see how such a project could be profitable. When the river dries up the channels that carry the water dry up as well. The lake would have more water, but how would it be more useful than the cisterns we use now.�

�You�re right!� Tereesan said. �A larger reservoir would be useless without a way to get the water to homes and businesses; and the channels that feed the wealthy on the East side will not work. But there is a need for a more reliable water source: the smaller cisterns of private citizens�especially the poor who can not afford anything larger�run dry almost every year, and they must turn to the larger public cisterns. But even these are severely taxed during dryer years and the city charges more than a poor family can afford for a small bucket of water, which they must carry themselves.

�Imagine how many would be willing to pay you for water during a dry year if you could deliver it to their home, and give them more water for the same price in the bargain. And think of the businesses, like the paper mill, that shut down part of the year because they use so much water they can�t keep their cisterns full even though they have some of the largest in the city.�

�Yes,� Damian nodded, his eyes lighting up with possibilities. �I can see the profit potential, but how do you plan to get the water from the lake to those homes and businesses at a cost that will be affordable, and yet pay for the prohibitive expense of the excavation process?�

�The water will be carried to cisterns in specially designed wagons made water-tight with resin, pitch, or pine tar. Someone trained in the earth�s magic could fix up an efficient design with a little experimentation. Perhaps porcelain if we can design a kiln to fire the bed, or if not, liquid rock could be used: poured very thin and reinforced on the outside with Sponge Wood to prevent it from breaking incase it is accidentally hit by something hard.�

Damian rubbed his eyes feeling a little tired, but said nothing; convinced that it would pass shortly.

�The wagon would have to be large enough to hold a significant amount of water, and some way to download the water would have to be devised. Perhaps some sort of ceramic spigot like the ones on water toilets that can be closed in between uses, and a drain spout fashioned into the body of the wagon so that the water can be directed into the cisterns with some measure of flexibility.�

�You�ve obviously given this a good deal of thought,� Damian said, without any hint of sarcasm in his voice. He blinked and shook his head gently, trying to shake the weariness loose and beginning to wonder if it were not something unnatural. But I�ve been so careful, he thought; to Tereesan he said. �How would you get the water from the lake into the wagon?�

�That shouldn�t be two difficult either�a floating water wheel run by leg power...if several teams of slaves took turns they should be able to keep up with the demand. Or if you prefer, you�ve trade connections with the Zylomians, through Eapar�buy a couple of full-blood Cordobions, they�ve been breed for leg strength, and are more beast than human from what I hear.�

Damian agreed with a nod heavy nod of his head. �A few Cordobions could prove worthwhile,� he said, his lips noticeably sluggish. Perhaps he was ill: vitriol was known to react oddly with flu symptoms and certain other illnesses. �They�re widely used on Eapar,� Damian said. �Very affective...very manageable.�

�Then you�re interested?� Serria said.

�What sort of...arrangement did you have in mind?�

�I have the plan, but I do not have the means financially or politically to back it by myself. You on the other hand, if we worked together, splitting profits and expenses roughly fifty-fifty...And with the proper public relations work we could recruit the services of a sizable number of the towns people, who would be willing to work in exchange for the promise of an abundance of water at reduced prices. And if you increased your plumbing trade, making holding tanks, sinks and toilets more affordable you would find that many of the poorer citizens would be inclined, with the increased availability of water, to install indoor plumbing as well.

�Of course, as part of our final proposal, I would suggest that we demand the sole rights to the water pooled in the lake when the river runs dry...� Tereesan paused, leaning closer and staring intently into Damian�s eyes with an odd expression of concern on his face. �Are you alright? You�ve been looking rather pale all evening.�

Damian nodded, but said nothing. A spell of nausea was passing and for the moment he was feeling more awake and much relieved.

Tereesan shrugged, and went on. �It may be difficult to pass such a provision through council,� he said. �In order to gain support for the project, we will have to explain our ultimate goal, and others will see the potential for profits. To insure our monopoly of the water trade, I suggest that we buy all of the land along the bank from the East Jawls Bridge to the South Minzer Bridge. My estate runs along the river as you know, and I have managed to buy out a sizable section of the land already, but several of the more conservative owners have been resistant to selling. Perhaps you could be more persuasive, with your political clout! I doubt they would ever suspect we were working in harmony.

�I think I�ll go home now, and sleep on it,� Damian said, trying to stand, but the room began to spin and blackness began closing about him.

He stumbled, and Tereesan caught his arm.

�Are you alright? You�ve been looking rather pale all night.�

He couldn�t tell whose voice spoke, and before he could answer he slipped into the warm, comforting embrace of sleep.

3

A weight pressed against Damian�s forehead.

He felt like curling back into his bed and sleeping for another three or four hours.

I was so careful, he thought. How did they do it? The wine, or maybe the food...but I never touched anything that someone else hadn�t tried.

Instead of sleeping, he forced himself to sit up. His head throbbed but he wanted to learn what had happened at council. Perhaps they had some reason for wanting him to miss it this time, and the sooner he dealt with it the more likely he would be to stem any damage they might have stirred up in his absence. He stood, his head spinning furious.

When the spell passed he automatically rolled the bed sheets into a ball and threw them at the foot of the bed for Moraka, his maid; then he headed for the bathroom.

What drug did they use?

As he passed through the door to the bath, he glanced at the mirror above the sink and saw in it the bone white reflection of Shalis. He blinked and looked again but she had not gone away: her face was slightly flushed, and she was breathing rapidly�staring wide-eyed back at him.

I�m dreaming, he thought.

He touched his cheek with his fingers�but it was her cheek�and he traced down to the firm yet delicate chin, intensively aware of the chipped, red paint on his long fingernails. Vigorously he rubbed his eyes, held up his hands and looked at his thin, Romastion-white fingers.

He looked back at the mirror.

Shalis was still staring at him. Her face, framed by the shock white locks, was just as he remembered: a picture of innocence and vulnerability�yet the fear in her eyes held a hardness he had not seen the other night. He stroked the soft strands of her worm-silk hair in total disbelief. It did not hang thick and straight like Pedigree Romastion hair, but tangled about her head in soft waves that fluttered slightly in a breeze he did not feel.

�It�s black magic!� he hissed. �That�s not me!�

He pulled back the door and stared at Shalis� body in the full-length wall mirror. For the first time, he became aware of breast: small, firm lumps on his chest. He moved his hand, watching as the child responded on the other side of the mirror.

It was a strange sensation. She moved in perfect harmony with his thoughts. He moved his hands and she touched the small bulbous nipple of her breast. An unexpected thrill ran through him, and he closed his eyes shutting out the sight of her. He made her hand touch his body: his alien body; traced delicately across his shoulders; along the sides of his ribs. They were ticklish as his had never been. He opened his eyes looking at her flat stomach; her long, coltish legs; and dainty feet.

Despite his self-loathing, the sight of her aroused a deep possessive fascination in him. He twisted a nipple savagely between his fingers, shuddering convulsively at the pain that rocked through him.

Such a low threshold of sensitivity, he thought.

Excitement flooded him with an overwhelming sense of control and power, more intoxicating than anything he had ever known. Of all the women he had owned�of all the women he had used, and abused�none had been more completely in his power. Never had the proof of his control been so immediate, and intimate.

This is real, he thought. I possess this body completely. Instinctively his hand found the gap between her legs. He shivered at the touch and drank in the warm, musty smell or her flowing juices. He thrilled at her need; thrust his hand deeper. She gasped eagerly�crying out in a breathy voice that felt strange in his throat. She was helpless putty in his hands, only they weren�t his hands�they were soft, weak hands with poorly painted fingernails.

Suddenly a desperate sense of loss washed over him, and he fought against the sinking feeling that threatened to drag him into oblivion; but his legs gave away beneath him and he melted to the floor at her increasingly insistent touch.

Chapter Two

 1

For a long time afterwards he lay on the floor�breathing heavily and slowly regaining his strength. He opened his eyes and lolled his head to the side. Shalis lay on the polished wood floor inside the mirror: Her hair was damp with the sweat that had already dried from her face. Tears of frustration and anger had stained her pale cheeks red.

That�s me!

He sat up, wiping the tears from his eyes and steeling the ebb of his emotions. That�s my fear! he thought biting it back. My anger! I must control it, or it will control me.

He realized that he was clenching his hand and forced himself to stop. That was her habit, not his; he would not submit so easily to it...his body might be weak, but not his mind. He would force her body to learn new habits. He clenched his teeth, although it was no longer a second nature reaction as it had been for his old body; and he studied the effect it had on Shalis� face...

My face now. I am Shalis: a perpetual child...not even a pure pedigree, but a Romastion hybrid. He grimaced; then his eyes grew wide as he thought of further implications. As a woman he could not own property or holdings. My business partners will be eager to grab up my properties if they learned that I am not here to protect them. I will loose everything, and get stuck as Yarvin�s slave, in the process.

A sharp lump of fear stuck in his throat, and he breathed deeply trying to calm himself. Touching himself he found the dampness between his legs still flowed thick; the tingling sensation began to return. He cursed his new body. Its chemistry was all passion and instinct; the flight response to intense and difficult to control...the flesh to sensitive and tender.

Where is my old fire; the eagerness of my fight response?

He bit his lip drawing blood.

I will not be ruled by this body, he raged. He wanted to rake his face with his long fingernails; to hurt this body in some way, but he held back. His body was one of his weapons now. I will not be mastered by anyone or anything! I may be a slave; Yarvin�s second hand chattel...but I�ll find a way...What was done can be undone. If only I can find out how it was done and by whom.

He studied his female reflection in the mirror. She was tired and sweaty; hair disheveled�yet the intensity of her appeal was painful. He enjoyed her humiliation as much as he despised his own weakness.

I must accept this female form...it has limitations that I cannot afford to ignore! If I am to conquer her limitations, I must do so using the strengths that have not yet deserted me. My mind is still sound...it may be poisoned by the residual toxin from this body, but in time my resolve will purify those toxins, and I will have complete mastery of my new body, such as it is.

Noise!

He heard footsteps coming down the hall!

Quickly he jumped to his feet, making a belated effort to compose himself. Warmth washed over his face as he became suddenly very aware of both his nakedness and the presence of Moraka.

Shalis� ghost white body startled Moraka! She jumped back and was relieved to see the child�s pronounced embarrassment. �I beg your pardon,� she said, blushing slightly and averting her eyes when she realized she had been staring.

She did not retreat; but stood at the door waiting for Damian to cover himself.

Well, what is it?� Damian said, listening to the strangely accented voice that came out of his mouth, but also aware that it contained a certain commanding quality similar to his old voice. He leveled a cold stare at Moraka, pleased that he could still make his maid flinch with his tone.

Then Moraka�s face hardened with firm resolve and scorn. �Who are you?� she asked. �Where is Damian, child?� She emphasized the last word harshly; and to Damian�s horror he found himself cringing at the maid�s scorn, and his heart sprang into his throat, threatening to choke him.

Shalis� body reacted in its own way, beyond his control.

It was a mistake to antagonize Her, he thought. All Moraka knows is that I am a female guest, and a child. I would never stand for such insolence from a woman...least of all a child!

He curtsied awkwardly; his clumsiness enhancing his embarrassment. �Forgive me!� he said. �My name is...Shalis.� The name sounded repulsive on his lips, but he extended his hand in formal greeting.

�And Damian? I haven�t seen him come down yet today.�

He turned his head for fear that Moraka would see the uncertainty in his face as he tried to think. His face and body burned hotly under Moraka�s scrutiny.

I should have planned for this.

�He�s...� He focused on the door to the bathroom, realizing that he was taking to long. Maybe she�ll think its just embarrassment. Think! Think!

�Damian�s in the bathroom,� he said, without facing her.

Moraka cocked her head, craning her neck to get a glance past the open doorway. The bath was not very far from her line of sight.

�He told me,� Shalis said stepping in front of Moraka and taking her hand gently�a gesture that neatly blocked her view. �You would supply me with a change of clothes. Something about having some things left behind by one of his former women.�

�I�ll just wait for him to come out, if you don�t mind. He may want me to do something else for him.�

�You can do what you want, but he did say you should take care of it immediately.

Moraka pursed her lips in a frown. �Very well.� She lowered her eyes to look at the floor. �I�ll be back with some things shortly.�

She bowed, and retreated quickly down the hall.

When she was out of hearing, Damian sighed with relief; and ran to his writing desk for paper and pen. He tried the top drawer and found it locked as always. The key, he assumed, would be on a chain around the neck of his male body�wherever that might be. Fortunately he kept a duplicate set of his important keys in the floor safe and another set in the safe at his office.

The floor safe was next to his desk. He spun the dial furiously to clear it then carefully worked through the pattern of turns, which aligned the internal pins. Inside, in several small leather pouches, was the sum of portable wealth to be found in the house: less than 500 taotes of minted money, and a few pieces of fine jewelry, gems and raw pieces of precious stone and metal. On a black, velvet padded tray lay the keys, and a duplicate ring bearing Damian�s official seal. Carefully he set the money and tray on the edge of the desk�closed the safe, and opened the desk drawer with the key. He pulled out paper and pencil for writing and an inkpad to lend his official presence to the note.

What do I say, what do I say?

Moraka would be coming back very soon. He thought for a moment then dipped his pen in the ink well and began to write:

I have been called away to...

Suddenly he realized, he was not using his old hand writing. He was not sure what he was doing wrong, but the script was awkward and the shape of his letters was not right. Perhaps it was the way she wrote...if she even knew how.

He wadded up the marked paper and tried again.

This time he tried to remember how his male fingers had used a pen. He worked meticulously; concentrating, frowning as he moved his fingers slowly over the paper. He had written several words before he could imitate his old movements passably well. Then he took a fresh piece of paper and began again.

When he had finished the note he pinned it to the message board and ran back to the desk: placed money and the tray of keys in the drawer so Moraka wouldn�t see them; then hurried to the floor bath and turned on the water. It splashed around the tub and floor.

When he heard Moraka�s footsteps down the hall he closed off the faucet and soaked some of the water up with a towel. A few moments later, when Moraka entered the small room, he was stooping to pick up the towel. He looked up and smiled. Moraka�s arms were full of clothes and beauty articles, but she looked around, her suspicion plain to see.

The bath was obviously empty, but Moraka said nothing.

�He�s already gone,� Damian said insouciantly.

Casually he directed Moraka to lay the things she had brought on the counter, and he began sorting through the clothes, perfumes and jewelry placing various items into piles. The clothes were old, and some were worn, but they were elegant and stylish.

�I told him you wanted to see him but...� he shrugged. �That didn�t seem to impress him. He left a message on the board, though.�

Moraka scowled; glanced at the message board.

Damian sat beside the floor bath and opened the hot water valve, listening to the water draining down the pipes from the heating tanks. The water was little more than warm to his touch.

�There�s no hot water!� Damian blurted out angrily. �Now how am I supposed to take a bath in cold water?�

Moraka slapped Damian, leaving an angry red handprint on the side of his face. It quickly disappeared as his face flushed brightly. He was shocked and angered at first, but as he realized why she had done it, he was mortified.

�I did that for you, child.� Moraka said, reaching for his hand, and when he made no effort to pull away, taking his hand gently in hers. �Do you know what Damian would do if he heard you talking like that...even if it was only to me.�

He nodded, his body trembling in a cold sweat. �I�m sorry,� he breathed, the softest whisper.

Moraka stroked his head, and her touch was soothing to his female body. �Alright, child...I�ll go open the heating vents, and light the firestones. The water should be hot in a few minutes.�

She turned and went to study the note on the message board. When she had read it she smiled and closed the door behind her.

Damian sighted a breath of relief.

His body was still trembling. That was stupid! Stupid, stupid! His hands shook as he pressed them against his eyes: his dainty fingers cool against the fire in his head. If I make a mistake like that in front of a man... A sharp chill sweep through him. From now on, he thought. I must think of myself in female terms! Even in my thoughts! That way I will never forget...lest I should make an even more serious slip.

My body is female. As long as this is true, I am female. I cannot afford to think of myself in other terms...I am a child; a free slave�Yarvin�s second hand chattel.

Even if I can devise a way to maintain control of my holdings...no! Damian is the one who has holdings; and I must find a way to gain control of them before others beat me to it. His belongings are not mine. I have nothing, and must never openly say different.

For I am no longer Damian.

I am Shalis.

2

Shalis hurried to the bedroom, glanced around until she found the slaves tunic she had worn the night before beside the bed. She riffled through it, looking for the secret pocket that would hold her title papers.

Finding it, she took the document out and quickly looked for the sale price, but there wasn�t one. To her surprise she was a free woman! Yarvin was her fieflord, but she was not bonded to him. Thus she was free to realign her allegiance to Damian�s estate, (or any other that would take her,) as her fancy struck her. It would be a simple matter to have a magistrate draw up papers. However any legal documents would mean nothing without Damian�s consent to incorporate her into his holdings, and that was a significant legal procedure requiring the notarization of a Zanadian magistrate.

Damian could create the document that would make himself responsible for Shalis, but without the nugatory consent of the motherland via the magistrate, it would be invalid. For such a matter, Damian would not have to appear in person: a runner could be sent with a request document officially sealed with his wax seigniory.

Unfortunately Damian�s seigniory was in the safe at the club office. Shalis would have to find a way to get the stamp if she was to have any chance of salvaging Damian�s holdings for herself. Any plan of action she could imagine would require the wax and seal to officially validate legal documents. Many would further require a Zanadian magistrate to witness Damian�s signature on the papers to make them legally valid. But first things first, for now she had to think of a way to get by the security at the club, and gain access to Damian�s office.

Sitting down at the desk to think, she took the pen in her hand, and after a moment began drafting a formal request for incorporating Shalis into Damian�s holdings. She stamped the document with Damian�s signet ring, which had no actual legal force, but carried the weight of tradition. When she had signed the document she began drafting orders that should give her access to Damian�s office at the club under the pretext of cleaning.

The club�s security was excellent. Shalis would not be left alone while she cleaned, but once she and the guard were alone in the private confines of the office, she could use her body as a weapon; her body was attractive. Most men would find her appealing. Even the best guards could be tempted at times to indulge in a little friendly recreation.

The club office contained a bar, and the right powder sprinkled into a man�s drink could put him to sleep within minutes. She grimace thinking of what she might have to do until then, but at the same time her body was responding in a different manner.

She shivered, and placed both documents in separate envelopes, then signed Damian�s name on the front of each. From the bottom drawer of the desk she took out a small ivory strong box. Inside, along with other more deadly powders and oils, were the small paper packet with the powder she would need to make the guard sleep. A second packet would kill him.

She took two just in case.

As she closed the drawer she smiled. The first step was done. Eventually she would have to come up with an excuse for Damian�s hasty departure; and correspondences from Solali would have to be faked. But she would face those and other problems later, when she had had time to sort things out.

She placed the envelopes and the packet of powder into one of the hidden compartments in the desk. Then she went to the hall and looked both directions from the doorway.

The hall was empty and quiet.

Going back into the bedroom she removed the picture from the wall safe and quickly turned the dial. The lock clicked open, and she reached inside for Damian�s Personal Choker. It was made of the finest imported Verimeese Black Velvet, with a large �D� cut out of ruby, Damian�s birthstone.

I never thought I�d take this out again! She smiled at the irony. Now I�m giving it to myself.

Brushing it�s softness against her neck, she remembered with sadness the woman for whom Damian had bought it: Rodjuh had been a full blood Srowidian, with an angelic face: the delicate Srowidian nose, and firm chin; the full lips which she painted red to match her long curly hair; and sparkling green eyes that flashed in the light of a fire like emeralds.

The sudden memory sliced through her like a sharp pain. For many years it had been dormant. But now the feel of the velvet against her skin brought the past back with a vengeance.

I have inherited the Srowidian�s damnable emotionalism, she thought darkly, as she wiped tears from her eyes. I am a female, now. A child. This is expected of me...very well then, she told herself. Let me seem the simpering little minx. If my body is a weapon, then let my vulnerability be a weapon also. Their kindness is a weakness that I will use.

Such thoughts were a bleak and cold comfort.

Damian had vowed to keep the choker�which Rodjuh had never worn, but that he had bought for her�locked away, never intending to take it out again. Now it was fortunate he had not thought to sell it. Closing the safe and replacing the picture, Shalis composed herself. Now is not the time to dwell on memories or show silly emotions, I must save them for a time of need.

She went to the bathroom, testing the water with her hand. It was not hot yet, but the chill was gone, and she began to fill up the tub. Kneeling on the floor, she swam her hand seductively over the water, and poured in some of Moraka�s scented bath oil. When the tub was full she eased herself into its cool fragrance and began to scrub.

Several minutes later, she jumped out of the bath, her wet hair smelling fresh and clean, her skin glowing from the vigorous scouring. She toweled off in front of the mirror and daubed himself with talcum powder and scent.

She picked a leg-ring out of the things Moraka had brought and slipped it on. It was a spiraling snake model, of high quality metal that could easily be shaped to fit around her leg. To wear, she chose a light sarong cut short and simple and a lacy, but slightly worn blouse with subdued colors and eyelet snaps down the front. For jewelry she picked out a gold, cross-link bracelet, and a ring with a sapphire stone. There was an assortment of other robes and dresses; cloaks and longer furs; and several necklaces, which she discarded in favor of Damian�s Personal Choker.

Locking the choker in place, she studied the way it looked on her in the mirror.

It accented the sarong nicely.

The rest she stacked neatly on the counter before going downstairs to check on the breakfast Moraka had promised. As she passed the message board in the hall, she stopped and smiled, rereading the message she had left:

I have been called away to Solali on emergency business
and will be living there until further notice.
Have my messages and business correspondences sent to
the general postal at Solali and I will collect it when I can.
Afford my lovely houseguest with any services
or resources as she requires; and with the best of manner.

Damian

3

Zedeenia, one of Damian�s slaves who frequently did house chores was dusting in the foyer when the girl Moraka had told her about came down the stairs. She watched her eagerly�noting her appearance and the way she carried herself�but when the girl glanced at Zedeenia�s and did not acknowledge her, she looked away; pretending to dust, but stealing glances now and then as the girl passed. Then she quietly followed the mysterious girl�via other rooms�through the house to the dining hall.

The girl did not seem to notice Zedeenia as she made herself busy taking and dusting objects from off the mantle above the fireplace. Moraka, if she noticed Zedeenia, was more interested in Shalis: she took one look at the girl and her mouth fell open.

Zedeenia couldn�t imagine why until she saw the black velvet choker around the girl�s neck.

Why would Damian give his choker to such a young girl, Zedeenia wondered. And a Romastion at that!

�I left the things you brought me on the counter,� the girl said, and her accent marked her further as coming from common stock. Yet there was something about her voice that was not slavish or vulgar, just as there was something ambiguous about the way she carried herself, and the commanding tone of her voice. �If you would straighten up a bit and put the clothes in one of Damian�s closets, along with anything else you can find that I might need.�

Moraka cleared her throat. �You look much better, now that you�ve washed up a bit,� she said. �Are you hungry? I rewarmed the breakfast Damian didn�t eat. But it�s after noon, I can fix a heartier meal if you would care to wait half an hour?�

�Breakfast is fine, thank you,� the girl said sitting down at the head of the table, in Damian�s specially padded chair.

Damian is the only one who sits there, Zedeenia thought. Even a common girl should know enough not to make such a mistake!

But if Moraka noticed, she did not say anything.

�And could you have someone fix up a carriage for me,� the girl asked. Her voice was pleasant, but it was unmistakably a command and not a request. �I want to go into town after I�ve eaten.�

Moraka turned to Zedeenia and nodded. She knew what the head woman wanted and she curtsied for reply, but to her surprise Moraka spoke: �Tell Megaar that Shalis will need a coach...and make sure he selects a driver capable of escorting her safely.�

Moraka shot Zedeenia a warning glance that was enough to turn Zedeenia�s blood cold. She curtsied again and hurried away wondering what had spooked the old woman. Whatever it was, Moraka would be in a foul mood if Zedeenia botched her instructions. From experience, she knew that Moraka could be a harsh head woman if a worker�s performance reflected poorly on the old woman.

From the side entrance of the main house it was no more than Two hundred feet to Megaar�s office in the slaves residence. Zedeenia knocked on the door out of politeness, hesitating just a moment before entering.

Megaar sat at his desk, with his feet propped up and a leather-bound book spread out on his lap. When he saw Zedeenia he raised his eyebrows out of habit, and placed a strip of cloth between the pages to mark his place. He waited without speaking until she reached his desk, then he smiled and nodded.

�Well,� he said good-naturedly. �What does he want, now?�

Smugly Zedeenia said: �This isn�t for him! It�s for his house guest, a young lady named Shalis.� She smiled at Megaar�s expression. �Moraka wants a carriage made ready. And, she wants a capable driver to double as a bodyguard.�

�A young lady, you say?�

�A girl really,� Moraka said, then thoughtfully: �Of course she is Romastion, she may be older than she looks. It�s so hard to tell with them. But in any case she�s not for you! Damian gave her is choker.�

Megaar obviously didn�t believe her. �Is he going to town with her then,� he asked insouciantly.

�Damian�s already gone, stupid!�

�I didn�t see him,� he objected.

Zedeenia sighed heavily. �Well he is,� she said sternly. �Moraka said he left this morning, and she�s all in a fuss over this girl�so you better believe me and do as I say.�

Megaar raised his eyebrows appreciatively. �She�s really wearing his choker?�

Zedeenia rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, and turned her back on him haughtily, but as she left Megaar�s office she was smiling smugly to herself.

4

As Shalis ate she rethought her plans.

So many things can go wrong, she thought. What happens if someone becomes suspicious? They will look for someone to blame, and my very actions will condemn me. No matter how careful, my best plans will not stand up to the close scrutiny of an investigation, and it�s just a matter of time before someone begin to wonder where I...Why Damian has so mysteriously disappeared; or why...he has suddenly begun to entrust important matters to runners and little girls like me.

And there was something else that had begun to bother her.

Where is my body? If I have Shalis� body, then someone else must have...his. But who... and how will they react when they come and find that I�ve been pirating the estate that they thought to inherit? Or has he calculated my reactions into a larger and more devious plan?

�What�s the matter, dear?� Moraka said as she pushed another sausage onto Shalis� plate.

�I was just thinking about Damian,� Shalis said. �I was wondering what he�s doing right now?� She made no attempt to mask or hide her emotions, and her instinct proved to be right for Moraka thought she was worried for Damian while he was traveling on business.

�He�s capable of taking care of himself,� she said. �He worked his way into his fathers business by running the trade routes, you know.�

Shalis poked at the yolk on her eggs and sopped up the runny center with her biscuit.

�What a funny thing,� Moraka said. �That�s how Damian eats his eggs.�

But Shalis didn�t hear her�she was thinking of Tereesan, and wondering what part he had worked in the dark, and fulsome magic that had given her a female body. He hardly seems like one capable of performing death magic, she thought. It was said that the Necromantic sciences were not compatible with the healing arts. But is that just superstition among the common people? Surely Tereesan had a part to play: a pawn, perhaps, to some greater power. Some unknown power greater than Tereesan�s�that makes for a dangerous enemy indeed.

The maid was talking, but Shalis didn�t want to listen. She had to make up her mind what to do; and time was running out, no matter what she chose. I can�t go back to Yarvin,� She thought. �I�d rather die than be stuck working coaches for the rest of my life! But what options do I have? I could take what money and possessions I can carry and run like a thief in the night to any one of the southern cities beyond the Zanadian provinces. It�s illegal to sell or own slaves there; and the money I have would be enough to live for a few years. But what would become of me then. What could I do to make a living there that would be any better than the stables at Bromin and Kerodyn. She sighed and looked at Moraka.

The old woman was watching her intently, and when their eyes met she smiled before she spoke. �You haven�t been listening to a word I�ve said, have you?�

�I�m sorry,� Shalis said, genuinely embarrassed. �I was thinking.�

�You can�t be that worried about Damian,� Moraka said. �Do you want to tell me what�s so heavy on your mind?�

Shalis smiled without much conviction. �Thank you, Moraka,� she said. �But I think I need to work this out on my own.�

Yet even as she spoke, her body was urging her to talk; she needed to tell someone something to release the pent up emotions and frustration. Vulnerability is my weapon, she thought, and her voice broke: �What does he want from me, Moraka!�

The intensity in her own voice startled Shalis, and Moraka was taken a little back as well. �Damian?� she asked, not understanding, as Shalis had expected.

She nodded, willing to listen to Moraka�s soothing voice.

If she chose the wrong road there would come a time when she would need a friend; and suddenly Moraka seemed like she would make a very good friend.

�He�s a difficult man to understand,� Moraka said gravely. She took Shalis� hand in hers and held it gently.

Letting the raw honesty of her emotions show, Shalis thought of her voice as a tactical weapon to gain Moraka�s sympathy; yet it was also a purge to sooth her doubts and fears. �He scares me,� Shalis said. �I wish I knew what he wanted from me. I wish he hadn�t gone away.�

�To be honest with you child, I�ve been wondering myself, what he sees in you. Oh,� Moraka said when she was Shalis� hurt expression. �Not that you aren�t attractive enough. And he�s had plenty of lovers, not all of them grown women�but...� She shrugged and breathed a heavy sigh. �He�s never given anyone his choker...not since...well, not in a long time.�

Blinking back tears, Shalis shuttered at the memory; but she was seized by a morbid curiosity and before she could think better of it she asked: �Who was she?�

For a moment Moraka just looked at Shalis sharply, and neither said anything. Then there was a subtle change in the woman�s expression and Shalis was surprised at her surety that Moraka would tell her if given time.

Have I learned more about you, through the years, than I�ve guessed? It was a disturbing thought.

Again Shalis was preoccupied with her thoughts, and though she did not realize it, the emotions on her face, cut to Moraka�s heart. �Her name was Rodjuh,� she said. �And she was born in the province of Krasaun.�

�You were friend?�

A dark mood flashed across Moraka�s face, and as quickly faded. �Yes, we became close.�

�Tell me about her,� Shalis said, her heart fluttering as she spoke. �What was she like?�

�She was flawless Srowidian,� Moraka said, a smile touching her lips. �Full blood pedigree. We used to tease each other about our pedigrees: I was born Briemarian, and she was always saying: �I wish I had been born Briemarian;� while I of course had left the palace when I was little more than six.�

Although Shalis was well aware of Moraka�s background, She let her eyes grow wide. �You were one of the dancers?�

It had the desired effect: Moraka beamed. �Indeed,� she said. �I was a royal dancer: property of the emperor.�

�Your so graceful,� Shalis said. �I should have known. But then...�

�How did I end up here?�

Shalis nodded, glad to move the subject away from Rodjuh, the memories were to painful still. �Tell me!� she said. �Tell me the whole story.�

Moraka hesitated only a moment. �My talent showed at a very early age,� she said. �I became part of the child�s troupe at the palace before I turned three. By the time I was five I was chosen to entertained the emperor and his guests, and before I was six I had become the emperor�s first and given more than a dozen solo performances to ambassadors and heads of foreign state.�

The strength of her own curiosity surprised Shalis. She had never heard this story from Moraka�s point of view; and she found herself eager to find out just what had happened to make the older woman fall out of grace.

�Shortly after my sixth birthday I reached puberty, and was quickly removed as the emperor�s first. My year wasn�t a sixth part old, a mere ninety-eight days�I still remember the day�and they removed me entirely from the emperor�s entertainers and placed me with one of the traveling troupes.�

Shalis understood. Briemarians were bred for dancing skills, but they were also bred for beauty; and they were a new breed, not fully perfected, not as nearly identical as many other pedigreed breeds. They still produced offspring that had to be weeded out. As a child Moraka may have been cute, and her tremendous skill keep her worthy of consideration. But when she reached puberty, she did not bloom as fully as other dancers.

�I keep my pedigree papers,� Moraka said. �But I was neutered so that I could not corrupt the breed.�

�Moraka, you don�t have to tell me,� Shalis said, but she knew the older woman would not stop now.

�No, it�s alright,� she said. �It doesn�t bother me any more. At the time it was very hard. I was so bitter. Next to dancing, the only thing I longed only for was a child. Now it seemed both dancing and children had been taken from me at the same time.�

Pausing, Moraka motioned to Shalis� plate and asked: �Are you finished.�

Neither of them had eaten anything for several minutes.

Shalis shook her head and let Moraka take her plate. She stacked it with other dishes. �Come into the kitchen, if you want, and I�ll tell you more about it,� she said.

Gathering up more dishes, Shalis followed Moraka into the kitchen and helped where she could to put things away. Damian had never been able to find anything in the kitchen though, and as Shalis she was no better at it�so she sat at the kitchen table and took to watching Moraka work.

�Or course, I still danced,� she said. �But it was never the same. I felt my disgrace harder than most: I had been the emperor�s first�very proud of it, and not afraid to boast, even when my teacher�s warned me not to. Then suddenly I wasn�t even in the emperor�s personal troupe!

�All the other girl�s knew why, and what had been done to me�some even teased me about it. I became rebellious, and resentful. My practice sessions became difficult chores that I dreaded; and before long I was hard pressed to hold my own with the other girls in my troupe. After that, I stayed at the palace for less than a sixth part of the year.

�Perhaps I should have stayed with it. Dancing was a good life, and traveling would have been more interesting than palace life if I would have only opened my eyes and enjoyed what was around me. After a few years I could have become a teacher, or a guardian: one of the communal mothers who watch the dance children. Instead I left the palace with papers that said I was free.�

Leaving her work for later, Moraka came and sat in the chair next to Shalis. She took the child�s hand and continued her tale. �It was not long before I was out of what little money I had earned at the palace. I was forced to become a street child, but I was not used to a hard life: sleeping on the streets, and going days without food. Growing up in the palace, I knew nothing of survival outside. Within a half a year I became so desperate that I went back to beg the palace to take me back...but when I finally came to the gates I knew that I couldn�t do it. I would die before I went back! And I almost did. I was starving, begging for food. Occasionally I would get a job working all day just so I could eat a decent meal.

�And just when I thought it couldn�t get any worse the cold weather came; and I nearly froze in the night. That was when I knew that the only way I could stay alive was to offer myself for indenture; which I did that very day.

�Foolishly I refused to tell them that I could dance, and I knew no other trade of value; moreover, I was sterile so no one would take me for a mate. And my youth, and frail body were not made for heavy labor. Few wanted me, and those that did were free to drive a hard bargain.

�Masrond, Damian�s father drove a hard bargain as well,� Moraka said. �But I think it was the best I could get. I would not have lasted much longer on the streets, even with the free meal from the auction blocks. So I took his offer and was indentured for ten years. At first I was livid when Masrond employed me as a dance girl at his club.�

Tears ran down Shalis� face but she laughed, and Moraka joined her.

�Of course,� Moraka said. �He knew what I was all along�Briemarian�s only come from the palace, and none leave unless they are sterile�but for his business, that was not a liability, and I think I proved to be more capable than he expected. After a time I came to enjoy dancing again, although I never regained the drive and passion of my youth.

�It was at the club that I meet Rodjuh,� Moraka said. �I was thirteen, she was six: the same age I had been when I came to the club, although she had already reached puberty well over a year earlier.�

I don�t want to hear about this anymore! Shalis thought, but part of her body knew that that was a lie, and she could not hide the sad longing in her eyes. �She was a better student than most of the girls,� Moraka said. �And she knew what I was, and who I had been�although how she knew I never learned.� She paused smiling at her memories. �She was temperamental, too: sometimes sweet, but given to foolish outbursts. She had the prettiest green eyes I�ve ever seen. Her whole face light up when she looked at you.�

I remember, Shalis thought, tears forming in her eyes.

�Ah, she was a favorite with the customers, I can tell you,� Moraka said. �And when Damian began to take an interest in her I really wasn�t surprised, even though she was several years older than him.�

�What of her life before you meet?� Shalis said hoping to change the subject to less painful things. In all his life he had never heard Rodjuh talk of her past; morbid curiosity had again taken hold of Shalis, despite the memories it brought.

�We talked very little about that,� Moraka said. �I know she was born in the province of Krasaun; and I assume, like most Krasaunians her father was poor, and when his mate bore him no sons to carry his line, he sold another daughter to the slavers, to ease the burden of the next child.

�I remember her saying she had thirteen sisters, but only remembered five, all younger than herself. The very young, of course, don�t bring a fair market price. The traders must house them in costly nurseries because they are to little to fend for themselves in the slave pits, and not old enough to perform slave duties that would otherwise be required of them. But why she didn�t remember the oldest sister I don�t know. Maybe her father did not hold to tradition and sold her as well.�

�Maybe her real mother died in childbirth, and the oldest took her place in the family,� Shalis suggested bleakly.

�Perhaps,� Moraka said. �But in any case, Masrond bought Rodjuh at the auction blocks when she was six. She became the daughter I never had; for I was old enough to be her mother�but sometimes we were more like sisters. We were very close; and I delighted in teaching her: not only to dance but the delicate points of all I knew.

�When I was sixteen and a half part old, I was ready to become indentured for another ten years if I could only stay at the club, to be with Rodjuh and the other girls that I had grown to love; but in my heart I knew that it would not be. I was not young any more, and although I was not really old I had not aged well. I danced often enough, but fewer requested my services.

�I keep myself busy teaching the new girls to dance, and serving drinks and when the club closed I took to helping with the domestic chores. It may have made a difference, but I was not given a second indenture, I was offered employment: Masrond was getting old, and he required a personal attendant to serve him. I was told that I could still teach the girls, as long as Masrond remained healthy, and did not require constant attention. That was the best I was likely to get so I accepted the terms, even though I had saved enough money to live comfortably for several years.

�As the next few years passed I found that I was not unhappy with my new duties, even when Masrond fell ill and required most of my time, it was not a burden. Rodjuh and I saw less of each other, but we remained close.

�After Masrond died, I was allowed to stay on. Damian took over his father�s business, and moved his office to the club so that he could be near Rodjuh, whom he had become rather fond of. He was only ten but he was very much a man.

�Less than a year later, Rodjuh came to live in the house. Damian had grown to love and trust her. And when a few years had passed he gave Rodjuh her freedom, thinking that she loved him and would consent to be his mate. Instead she ran away with a traveling silver merchant named Foxil who hailed from the southern city of Merssal.�

A great sob wracked Shalis� body, and Moraka came to her and held her close, wondering at the intensity of the child�s emotions.

�She never said good-bye.� Shalis said, in a broken voice.

Moraka misunderstood, and shook her head. �Maybe she worried that I would tell Damian rather than let her go,� she said, still holding Shalis tight. �Or maybe she wasn�t sure she would be able to leave me if she had to say good-bye. The slave pits had left a terrible scar on her. Even though she never spoke of it, I could tell she hated the idea of belonging to someone else. I could not understand why she had to go, but I could not hold it against her.�

She sighed. �Damian was not so forgiving. I don�t think he ever got over her. Until perhaps now, when he met you.�

No, Shalis thought, feeling the searing pain of old wounds torn open. I never did!

Tears streamed down her face, and she sniffled pitifully as she remembered what Damian had done out of vengeance: the very day Rodjuh left he had hired a band of mercenaries to pose as thieves and raid Foxil�s caravan. They killed the Merchant. And Damian never learned what became of Rodjuh, but she had been part of the mercenaries pay and he assumed that eventually she had been sold into slavery again.

�It�s an awful story,� Shalis said her voice full of regret.

�Yes,� Moraka said. Her eyes were dry, but she was looking at Shalis with a new depth of understanding. �Isn�t love a funny thing? Who can say for certain what Damian sees in you...why he gave you his choker!� She shook her head sadly, and Shalis sensed a deep felt remorse in the older woman. �Maybe I understand a little,� she said. �Your so innocent, and sensitive; so vulnerable and naive.�

Shalis couldn�t help a small smile.

You think so, she thought, suddenly realizing that as the sorrow lifted, the tension and fear were also gone from her chest. She took a deep breath: caught the fresh clean smell of fragrant soap.

Shalis knew what she wanted.

She wanted it all.

Death is better than being at the mercy of others. If I can�t get what I want it wont matter, but if by some miracle I succeed... The smile on her face grew wider.

�You must have a weird sense of humor child,� Moraka said.

Shalis looked at her and laughed, hugging her close.

She was not surprised at the strength of the emotions that sweep through her. �I was just thinking how glad I am that I finally meet you,� she said.

To herself she couldn�t help but wonder: Are they still just words? What did I get myself into by letting go, by opening the door on my emotions? And when I need to, will I be able to close that door again?

Chapter Three

1

�Your carriage should be ready by now,� Moraka said patting Shalis on the arm. �If you still plan to go into town I�ll have the driver bring it around to the front.�

It was nearly three. By the time Shalis put together the things she would need and made it to the club office, that part of town would be crowded and dangerous. She thought of waiting until morning when the night people would still be asleep, and the streets�quiet and deserted by comparison�would be safer to travel, if only because it would be easier to see trouble coming. But time was critical. Every day that she delayed made the chance of failure greater, and already her chance of success seemed less than good.

�Yes,� she said. �I shouldn�t keep them waiting. I have just a few things to put together first. Do you have a box I can use to carry things in?�

�What size?�

�Oh,� Shalis said, holding her hands up about a shoulders width apart. �Something about like this I guess.�

Moraka nodded and went down into the food cellar. After a few minutes she returned with a rough wooden box just slightly bigger than Shalis had asked for. �That�s perfect!� Taking the box from Moraka she went to the pantry to look for cleaning materials, and began placing them into the box.

From the look on Moraka�s face it was obvious that she was curious what Shalis was going to do with them, but she didn�t ask any questions, and Shalis didn�t offer any explanations. When Moraka was reasonably certain that Shalis would not need any help finding things, she went to talk with Megaar.

When Shalis had everything she could think of that she might need she set the box down by the front door, and went up to Damian�s bedroom.

As she entered from the hall, she thought she saw the door to the guest room closing.

Quickly she looked around! Nothing seemed to have been moved. She ran to the door and opened it�but the guest room was quiet and empty. Going back into Damian�s room she checked the room carefully: the hall door, the closets, and the bathroom before looking into the desk drawers and the secret compartments to see if anything had been moved or stolen. Nothing seemed out of place and after a moment of searching she was satisfied that whoever it was had not found anything important.

She changed into the slave tunic; retrieved the envelopes and the packet of poison from their hiding place in the desk, and put them in one of the concealed pockets of her tunic. Then wrapping herself in the long, plain fur cloak, she went back downstairs.

The box of cleaning materials was still where Shalis had left it; and Moraka was not around, so she picked it up herself.

When she came to the front door she balanced the box on her knee, and was reaching for the knob when Brandon, one of the largest, and best trained fighters of Damian�s menial holdings pushed the door open.

Shalis almost dropped the box: it felt much heavier than it looked, and its size made it awkward for her new and smaller body to hang on to.

�Here, let me get that for you,� Brandon said graciously, taking the box easily in his arms and balancing it on one hand so that he could hold the door open.

Just outside the door, Moraka was waiting.

�Thanks,� Shalis said, holding in check the sarcasm that would have characterized Damian, as she motioned to the box. �It�s not that heavy, just awkward.�

Moraka nodded; obviously embarrassed that Shalis had started to carry the box before she had gotten Brandon. If she had to get Brandon herself, then that means she couldn�t find Zedeenia, Shalis thought with a grimace.

�I would appreciate it if you would keep everyone out of Damian�s room,� Shalis said lightly, as she followed Brandon towards the carriage.

�You saw someone in there!� Moraka asked, chasing after Shalis, her eyes cold and bright.

Zedeenia was the only other serf in the house, and Shalis knew that she would be punished severely for being in Damian�s room. One thing Damian could not stand was having any of the house servants but Moraka in his room. Over the years in Damian�s service, Moraka had, by necessity, developed a hard edge. She was not one to easily forgive the failings of her underlings, and her punishments were swift and severe.

�I saw the other door closing as I entered from the main hall,� Shalis said.

Moraka frowned. �I�d better have security look around, just in case it was a prowler,� she muttered to herself. Then she looked at Shalis, and her voice was firm and grim. �It wont happen again, I assure you.�

I�m sure it wont, Shalis though with a smile as she imagined what Moraka would do to the girl: perhaps setting her to cleaning out the sewer drains and water holding tanks, or have Megaar work her on keeping the water tanks full for several days. Or perhaps something altogether less practical and more creative.

When Brandon had loaded the cleaning materials onto the forward seat he offered Shalis his hand. She took it and stepped up into the coach.

�What time do you expect to be back?� Moraka asked. �Not for three or four hours, I should think.�

�I�ll fix dinner for around eight then, if that�s alright.� Moraka closed the door and tapped twice to let Brandon know that he could leave.

�That will be perfect,� Shalis said, leaning out the window.

Brandon slapped the reigns against the horse and the carriage lurched forward with a creak. Shalis waved at the old woman, pleased with the response it brought to her face; and Moraka watched the carriage until it pulled onto the main road and disappeared into the bare leafed lot of trees that lined the roadside along Damian�s estate.

�Where to?� Brandon asked when they were on the main road.

�Safks,� Shalis answered.

The curious look that crossed Brandon�s face amused her. Safks was a rough part of town. Not the sort of place that a young, free girl was likely to go in the evening unless she had some significant purpose.

�Take Cartues Road up the east side.� Shalis said. �That�ll avoid the congestion on West Cartues, and should save us some time at this hour.�

Brandon shrugged. �As you wish,� he said, turning back to the road, convinced that Shalis was not a stranger to Safks, but not reassured by that knowledge.

Understandable to be worried, Shalis thought, thinking of her jewelry which she had not remembered to remove when she changed into her slaves tunic. No sense in tempting anyone needlessly! Brandon was capable enough with the sword that he carried to discourage most would be thieves, but, as they rode, Shalis removed her all of her jewelry, except for Damian�s choker. I should have requested Damian�s personal carriage, she thought, wishing for the safe that it had built into the floor. She sat back�looked out the window at the tiny puffs of yellow and white blooming on bushes and trees�thinking about what to do with the jewelry. She noticed the spring grass, that had just a few weeks ago�before the breaking of spring brought the rains�been yellowed and withered, was bright with the greenest green she could ever remember; and as she continued to look at the vegetation around her, she found a curious delight in the vibrant colors, that she had never before imagined. The color of every tree and flower seemed marvelously clear and tantalizing.

Slowly it occurred to her that she was looking at the world with new eyes: seeing things in a way that Damian�s old, and fading vision, if indeed it had ever seen colors like this, had certainly not in many years.

It was a subtle difference. An ability to perceive distinct shades in the leaves of different trees that before would have appeared simply green. The hues ran darker as well as brighter. Lacy young leaves twinkled lightly in the breeze. A bird dropped swiftly to the ground and pecked at something, then flew back up into a tree to her nest.

Suddenly, Shalis became intensely aware of the sounds around her�it wasn�t that she had not heard them before, but it was as if the volume had been turned up dramatically. She heard the twitter of many birds and other animals, the clacking of the carriage wheels over dry earth and stone, and the sound of the water running through the channel along the side of the road. It was one of many channels from Slutin: the oxbow reservoir that supplied the town with water from the Nydias river.

�What a lovely day,� Shalis murmured.

�Did you say something?�

She looked at Brandon and caught the motion of his head as he looked back at the road. Inside, the carriage seemed unbearably gloomy; and she wondered that he had chosen to ride inside.

�I was just noticing how quickly spring has come this year,� she said. �I hope we�ve seen the last of cold weather! I love the spring, it�s my favorite time of the year.�

Damian had never given much thought to the seasons, but Shalis knew that she had spoken true: she loved the spring. Every part of her body told her so. She took a deep breath and was filled with heady warmth, moist and sweet. The smell made her think of the large fragrant flowers that grew blood red in the spring, and she was not surprised when she looked out the window and saw several large, bushy vines growing along a fence row; filled with the flowers.

�I like autumn best,� Brandon said. �When the leaves are all changing colors; and there�s vegetables ripe from the garden.�

She smiled, closing her eyes, and saw clearly in her mind a beautiful autumn scene of brightly colored trees. The vividness of her memory surprised Shalis. She opened her eyes and looked back out the window, eager to see the autumn colors first hand.

2

Brandon drove North on East Cartues, as Shalis had suggested. It was a quiet, scenic route through a rich residential area, scattered with parks, wooded lots, and fine restaurants. Past East Jawls road the parks began to disappear, houses were smaller and closer together, and mixed freely with a number of small businesses. By the time they reached Slyvin road warehouses and bulk supply dealerships began to appear.

He saw the solid stone pillars of the North Bridge rising up above the buildings before he heard the River.

�You can let me out here,� Shalis said when they were in front of the club.

Brandon glanced at her but did not stop. Instead he turned down the back alley to the establishment�s stables, and stopped there. He opened the door, and extended his hand to help her down.

�Put this in your pocket,� Shalis said, slapping the jewelry into his hand; stepped down by her self; and headed for the back entrance.

Flustered, Brandon stuffed the jewelry into his pocket and quickly gave the stable boy instructions to tend for the horse and carriage; then chased after her. By the time he caught up with her she was already at the employees entrance.

�I�m very sorry, madam Shalis,� the man in the lobby said, �but this is an exclusive men�s club.�

Holding back the obscenities that characterized Damian�s speech when he got mad, Shalis simply sighed and walked back out to the street. She�d be damned if one of her own employees was going to throw her out of her office establishment just like that. She had to think, come up with a plan. It was too light to sneak in a window, but she had to act fast or she�d arouse too much suspicion. Her plans wouldn�t be able to stand up to close scrutiny for some time, but she had no money, Damian was always recognized and bought on credit so he wouldn�t have to carry cash.

She walked around back to the showgirl entrance along the alley side, and knocked on the door. Nothing! Again she rapped on the metal, hurting her hand. It opened and a huge muscular man stood in the doorway: Baraan.

�Sorry I�m so late!� Shalis said, keeping her head up so he could see Damian�s chocker. She walked right past him.

�Just a minute, cutie!� Said the bouncer, grabbing her arm painfully tight. �I don�t remember seeing you walk thru this door before.�

�I was hired last night. Damian told me to come in this door.� Shalis sighed as if she was used to such harassment. �Do you mind,� she pulled her arm free, �or should I try the front door?�

The bouncer smiled, and nodded.

As Shalis walked towards the stairs she could feel the bouncer�s eyes on her long bare legs.

�Hey,� Shalis looked over her shoulder, cursing the bouncer for being such a bastard, �It�s the door behind you!�

�Damian said to go up the stairs to his studio.�

�Well, he�ll have to take you up himself because I never received any such instructions.� Nor would there be any way to give him any.

�I�ll have to go get shay to let me up then!�

�You do that.� Baraan said smiling. He knew damn well Shay wouldn�t say anything one way or the other.

3

Damn him! She didn�t have time to waste. If she didn�t get the new information into the computer soon her plan wouldn�t work. She had to do it before anyone started to miss Damian and looked at the files, after that they wouldn�t be valid. That gave her probably a good deal less than twenty-four hours since he had already uncharacteristicly missed an important political board meeting. They might even now be starting a search for him. She walked down the hall. At the far end a lot of noise was coming from one of the side doors, and she knew it led to backstage. Most of the doors were opened. She glanced at the names on the doorplate and then inside, at the girls all dressed out in sex-rags. They didn�t mind that she looked in. She was beginning to feel the dampness between her legs. Every door led to a dressing room, and she wished that as Damian she had built a back way up to the office.

�What�s your problem, doll?� Shalis turned and saw Shay, his tense face seemingly on the verge of exploding in a rage. �Why aren�t you decked out, yet?�

�My first day!�

�So what else is new? What do you do, dance?�

�No, I...�

�Strip?�

Shalis didn�t know what to do, �No!�

�Sing?�

Shalis knew she was running out of options but she had no idea if this female body could sing or dance.

�Mudd fight, or wrestle?�

�No!�

�Then what the hell are you in my area for!� He yelled. �What do you do? You do, do something? Or maybe you�re just the household fuck!�

Shalis blushed and nervously fingered the black chocker. �He said I was supposed to meet him upstairs, but the guard out back wont let me go up.� Shay clenched his teeth looking towards the ceiling as if counting the support beams and rip chords. Slowly he closed his eyes, lowered his head and opened them again. It looked like his clenched teeth were the only thing holding back the storm which would otherwise be inevitable. �Look doll, I don�t care what you do. That�s not my end. You�re sure you don�t strip or fight? Your certainly an eye-full.�

�No,� Shalis apologized.

�Then get out of my way, will yah doll.�

�But couldn�t you just tell Baraan to let me go up?� She pleaded, knowing it was lost on the old bastard.

�Look bitch, I don�t have time to be holding your hand. Your a big girl now, if Baraan wont let you go up you�ll just have to wait for Damian to take you up to a fuck-room himself. Now either get the hell out of my hall or start dressing, before I do it for you.� She was about to protest when he shouted, �move it cunt!�

She ran down the hall not stopping until she reached the back door. By then she was out of breath and she waited several minutes to compose herself.

Baraan was a good guard; he wouldn�t let her go up. But maybe Baraan wouldn�t notice her. And if he did she could always say that Shay told her to go on up the stairs, which wouldn�t strictly be a lie. And should be enough to keep her out of any trouble. As a last resort she could wait until dark and go up the fire escape.

She walked out of the dressing room hall with conviction, and started to ascend the stairs without so much as a glance over her shoulder to see if she had been spotted. No one said anything. Victoriously Shalis reached the first floor landing, and worked up the nerve to look for the bouncer, when suddenly she was grasp around the waist from behind.

An experienced hand striped the snaps down the front of her red lazy man�s shirt and slipped inside, cupping a breast. Despite her surprise, it sprang immediately to attention, and Shalis cursed her new ultra-sensuality. It was obvious her attacker was pleased by her response. He slid his arm from around her waist, under her skirt pushing the fabric up, exposing her panties. With equal expertise he penetrated these boundaries, his fingers exploring the fur between her legs.

�Stop it!� Shalis cried when she had overcome her shock. �You can�t get away with this you bastard!�

He laughed and lifted her off the ground, one arm under her ribcage, his hands cupping her breasts; and set her kneeling on the steps.

�Damian will fire you, I can promise you that!�

�Your a criminal,� he chuckled. �Caught in the act.�

�Legally yes, but ethically no.� Her panic was obvious, but she couldn�t help show it. �As you recall, Damian told me to meet him in his room upstairs.�

�You�re out of luck, bitch!� He dug his arm into her abdomen, forcing her breath out of her. She felt his hardness through his jeans, and realized her skirt wasn�t covering her. Her cheap clothing didn�t help convince him. �Besides he isn�t here yet, and I told you already you couldn�t go up.�

She heard him taking down his pants, and disgusted panic rose up inside her. �Alright, I�ll make you a deal...� she swallowed down her disgust, after all she was a female. �You let me wait at the top of the stairs when you�re thru and I wont tell Damian anything!� Baraan just laughed, she could feel his hard dick rubbing against her leg. �I can get you money. Lots of money.� She said, and he pushed inside her.

It happened so quickly: he thrust violently, and searing pain ripped thru her. His hands were on her hips, Pulling and pushing, forcing his body against her unmercifully. He moved one hand up to her breast, pinching and scraping while the other slide down to her crotch and dove into her front. She had gone slightly dry and numb by the shock from the rear, but he began to massage the dampness back. His hands probing her body brought waves of sensation to wash over her spine. Waves that wouldn�t stop, and she hated loving the feel of him.

She was held helplessly unable to fight back like she wanted to, but at the same time she was stroking his hand tenderly and trying to turn her self around. He talked constantly. �I told you, you couldn�t come up here, bitch. Now your mine! Do you like it? Pretty bitch!�

Suddenly a deep voice was talking. Not Baraan, but then joined by Baraan�s. The arm dug under her ribs, lifting her to her feet, while the hardness was still inside her. Another set of hands pawed her breast, lips finding hers with too much force. A tongue licking her teeth. Hot, bad breathe. She swung out; then her arms were pulled together before her. Metal clinked and her hands were bound in cuffs. The second guard ducked under her arms, entering her in the front, with a savage thrust. She had begun to dampen, but was still tight as he jolted in front, Baraan followed in the rear. She gasped for air, but it was rammed out of her again. A hand clasped over her mouth. Her cursed body began to respond to the abuse. As one rammed up the other was on the way down, and she rocked her body in helpless anticipation; riding the crest of pain.

4

She lay on the ground in the darkness of the alley. It had begun to rain. They had toyed with her for what seemed like hours: then they made her stand without her clothes, her hands cuffed above her head around the railing of the stairs. When they were certain Damian wasn�t coming in they beat her badly and threw her out into the alley, threatening to have her arrested if she ever came around again. They had tossed her clothes on the cobbles beside her, but she had not put them on. Instead she had lain and cried.

She could tell they were watching her.

Damn them. They had ruined everything. It might very well be too late to pull off her plan, and she would never be able to explain her bruises which felt terrible, or why Damian hadn�t shown up today or why he wouldn�t show up to chastise the guards personally.

They were still watching her, and she began to worry that they would come out and harass her some more so she sat up and began to gather up her clothes. A few people, gathered at the end of the alley, were watching her curiously.

It took the car lights shining down the alley to scatter them. The car drove up beside her and stopped. She knew whoever was inside could see her nakedness, and she tried to pull on her clothes without exposing herself, but it was impossible.

Softly the car door opened. Footsteps were coming up beside her. She curled up into a ball, trying to hide herself. Alone on the streets in such a state she was fair game for anyone who wanted a piece of her. �My God, child! What happened to you?�

She looked up on recognizing the voice. She had never thought she would be happy to see Tereesan, but she wrapped her arms around the healer�s neck and sobbed �Oh, Tereesan!� She felt foolish, and hated herself for it; but she couldn�t help it. No matter how much Damian had despised this man in the past, Shalis was helplessly emotional about seeing him. Now she might have a chance. If Tereesan would take her under his wing she might have a chance for a decent life without her plan.

�Now, now!� Tereesan said soothingly. It was obvious he was startled, but he helped her to her feet, and draped his coat over her, then he collected her things and bundled them up. �Your bound to catch your death out here, like this.�

Until now she hadn�t realized how cold she had been. He put his arms around her in a fatherly way, and led her to his car. �What�s your name, child?� He opened the door for her, and helped her into the front passenger seat.

�Shalis.�

�My, my. What a coincidence!� He said sliding behind the wheel. �There now Shalis, everything�s going to be alright. What were you doing in this neighborhood anyway?�

�I was being raped and beaten,� she said caustically, her indignant sense of independence suddenly returning.

�So I can see!� He said soothingly and pulled out of the alley. When he was safely on the street, he looked over at her inquisitively. She hadn�t started to put her clothes on �You must not be from around here. This certainly isn�t the safest neighborhood. I�ve found girls beaten and left in this alley before.�

�I didn�t know that!� she said matter-of-factly. Having succumbed to accepting Tereesan�s help was beginning to gall her.

�A sweet young girl, barely turned fifteen. She had been sold to the club for the duration of one week. As far as I can gather, her parents were under the mistaken notion that she would be singing...Well, the club seemed to have other plans. They used her as a plaything for their sadistic customers.�

�There�s nothing illegal about that!� Shalis snapped, she couldn�t remember the actual girl, but she knew the club had good lawyers.

Tereesan took her statement for a question. �It isn�t technically, Shalis...oh, you can be sure they�re too clever for that. I�m sure they have their lawyers carefully check all their contracts. And I�m sure there was an obscure clause in the fine print which made it all legal, but then I happen to know that the parents had not intended to have their daughter returned to them disspirited and half dead.

�Oh? I�m sure her parents were above an occasional abuse!� Shalis said sarcastically. �They sold her services because they needed the money. Why should they care how she comes back, except that they can�t sell her again as quickly.�

Tereesan caught the sarcasm, and his face seemed to melt into a sad expression. �Oh, you poor girl! I don�t doubt that you�ve had a terrible time of your life. But all parents aren�t like that, honestly! Some really do care about their offspring. Boy or girl.�

Shalis blushed guiltily at the misunderstanding. �Do we have to talk about this.�

�Oh dear!� Tereesan said. �How thoughtless of me, and after what you�ve just been through.� He smiled brightly, and they drove in silence for a short while.

�Where are we going anyway?�

�I was taking you to my house.� Shalis looked over at Tereesan, a little surprised even though she shouldn�t have been. �We don�t have to go there, if you�ve somewhere else you�d rather be taken. I just thought perhaps you�d like my wife to take a look at those nasty scrapes and bruises.�

�I thought you were the healer!�

Tereesan smiled, �Oh, you�ve heard of me? I�m surprised.� Shalis couldn�t think of anything to say, but it didn�t seem to matter. �Well, we�re both quite competent. Although I must admit that my wife is a little better at some things than I am.�

�Can she get rid of these bruises?�

�That? Why those are nothing, we�ll have you looking new again in no time.�

5

Hot water had caused the mirrored walls to steam up. When Tereesan came in he flipped the hot air switch and the fans began to whirl, forcing dry air from the vents. The humidifier switch was by the towel rack. He turned the selector to �Extremely dry� and flipped the on switch. Shalis had fallen asleep in the floor-bath; her head was nearly in the water. �Hey sleepy!� He said shaking her arm. Slowly, as if drugged, she opened her eyes. �You must have fallen asleep,� he said, �I got worried when you took so long.�

Shalis sat up, �Where am I?�

�Your at my home,� he said pulling a towel off the rack, holding it out. �Here.� She stood up and he draped it over her shoulders. �Your clothes are dry, the maid should be here with them any moment now. When you are done she will lead you to the dinner room. Don�t be too long unless you want your food to be cold.�

�No! I wont be.�

Shalis dressed quickly, feeling very much in control again, despite being in a stranger�s house. Tereesan was a foolish humanitarian, but then in her situation she would take every advantage of that. It was Tereesan�s companion, Serria who worried Shalis more. There was something unsettling about the beautiful, dark haired woman, and her relationship with Tereesan. The other night Shalis hadn�t so much as seen her, but tonight it had seemed, when they arrived, that she had been waiting for them. She opened the door for them as they walk up, and directed Tereesan to take Shalis straight to the bath as if she were the master in the house. Then she explained that dinner was almost ready.

The maid came in. �Are you finished ma�am?�

Shalis was buttoning up her lazy-man. She nodded. �Well, she mumbled to herself, �if I�m going to, I�d best go meet her.�

�You might as well,� the maid said. �They�re both good people and she doesn�t bite despite the way she might seem.� Shalis laughed embarrassed that the maid had heard her. �Come on child, you just follow me.�

Tereesan was sitting at a small cubby-table. Beside him, with her long legs crossed casually, sat Serria. She was wearing an attractive black satin miniskirt, with a matching top cut quite low for what Shalis imagined were Tereesan�s tastes. And she had let her hair down. Earlier it had been tied in a bun. Now Shalis noticed that she wore a red chocker around her neck, set with a blue stone in the shape of an �S� instead of the customary �T� for Tereesan.

One empty chair had been left for Shalis, but she approached cautiously. Serria looked up as she came near, and smiled a lovely sensuous smile, her eyes sparkling with interest. �Sit down, please!� She said.

Shalis looked at Tereesan for permission, but he continued to eat, not even looking at her. �I hope you feel a little better now,� he said.

�Much, but I seem to have lost my personnel chocker. You didn�t by chance find it, did you?�

�I�m sorry?� The magician said. �I didn�t see it... It�s really such a shame women wear chokers at all, I think. Don�t you agree?�

�I suppose so.� Shalis said. �But they are important.�

�Don�t worry baby!� Serria said patting Shalis�s hand tenderly, her eyes studying the younger girls. �I�m sure you�ll find it sooner or later.�

Shalis nodded looking up at the magician�s woman curiously. She wasn�t sure she liked the intimate way the other woman touched her.

�You certainly are beautiful, child!� Serria said.

Shalis was thinking the same thing about her, but then compared to herself there really wasn�t any contest. �Tereesan�s told me you are quite a skilled healer.�

�I do have talent in a few areas.�

�She�s too modest,� Tereesan said. �I�m always telling her that but she refuses to take credit for her work.�

Serria smiled wickedly, and shot Tereesan a icy glance. �You�ve become quite proficient, Tereesan. Letting me claim any credit would only hurt our business.�

Tereesan shrugged and sliced off a portion of the tender meat on his plate.

6

It wasn�t anywhere!

Shalis had even scraped her hand into a water filled pothole, but she had not found the chocker anywhere. Now she stood outside the back door trying to get enough nerve to face Baraan. She held the can of mace Serria had given her in her hand, behind her back.

She knocked!

Again!

The door opened. At once he recognized her and smiled. Stepping back she said, �I believe you have a personnel chocker of mine.�

Menacingly he stepped out the door, �I don�t know what you�re talking about.�

�I had a black chocker, with a ruby D.� She took another step backwards, �I know you have it.�

�Admit it bitch, you came back for more! You just can�t get enough of me.�

As he grabbed for her arm, she brought the can of mace forward. �Fucking bastard!� He pulled back chocking, one hand over his eyes. Swiftly Shalis brought the heel of her knee boot into his crotch. Then he was on the ground, and she was smashing her knee into his face. Pain shot up her leg, but as he slumped to the ground with blood streaming down his face, she was knew it was worth it.

His pockets were empty except for ten taotes, which she slipped under her skirt, into her panties. House keys were around his neck. Although she could not find his wallet she slipped his keys around her neck, dropping them down her lazy-man�s shirt. There was no way she could move Baraan, but she sprayed mace into his face again, and walked inside and up the stairs. In the drawer of the post guard desk, she found his security check card. She took that and continued up the stairs. It was simple to avoid the alarm lasers, and open the combination door lock to Damian�s office. Closing the door behind her, Shalis walked in and sat at the huge desk.

It felt wonderful to be back at the controls.

She turned to the computer, and began punching keys. When she was done she proof read the computerized instructions and smiled.

Her first directive was to terminate Baraan. Then she ordered that an Omega coder activate the plate switch for the house computer as soon as possible; then she changed Damian�s permanent residence to Solali. Lastly she promoted Moraka one pay grade, and gave the maid a small bonus for sustained performance.

When she had finished and everything was secured properly, she closed the combination door, and creep cautiously to the window in the hall. The foyer at the bottom of the steps was abandoned, but she had to assume that they had found Baraan by now.

She slide open the window.

It was dark out. She climbed out on the fire escape landing and closed the window behind her. When Damian was very young he had played on a fire escape, but that had been years ago. Shalis didn�t expect the metal to make so much noise as the other end lowered to the ground. But it was the only way to get down, and certainly represented fewer hazards than going out the same way she�d come in.

It didn�t seem to matter. She stepped off the bottom and the steps slowly rose back up into the air, the metal screeching once again.

�Who�s back there?� It was one of the outer grounds guards; she recognized his voice. She clung to the shadows along the wall and hurried down the alley towards the back street and the employee entrance.

Hearing her footsteps the guard ran after her down the alley. She wouldn�t be able to outrun him so she turned around, pretending to button up her shirt. Without looking at him, she dropped her hands to her side. Painfully he poked her chest with his finger, �well, bitch!� His fingers slipped down unsnapping every snap with one move. �Why�d you run? What were you doing back here?�

Every bastard in the world must practice that move she thought. He seemed placated by tracing her breast. He tweaked her pencil-sized nipple, and even smiled raising his eyebrows slightly. �Who were you with, cunt?�

Suddenly she was frightened. He might recognize whose keys were hanging between her breasts.

�Please, leave me alone!� She said pushing his hand away. �I don�t want any trouble!�

The guard slapped her across the face, and she almost fell down. Everything turned black. A hand was grabbing her shirt, and a voice shouting at her. Slowly it came back. He was dragging her down the alley and into the back entrance. Into the foyer. He threw her into a chair against the wall, her head whipped back, savagely. �Speak up bitch!�

�What?� She couldn�t stop the tear rolling down her face.

�Listen bitch! A friend of mine is in the hospital...if you can�t explain why you�ve got his key chain around your neck your in for a long little party with me. Then if you can still walk, we�ll go down to the police for a little talk with them.�

�Please, I can explain!�

He pulled her to her feet. �You better, bitch.�

�I...� She had to think! �I was supposed to meet him!� What did that have to do with the key? �I was supposed to meet him at his house, when he didn�t show up...�

He raised his hand to slap her, �Your a liar.�

�No, honest! I�m telling the truth.� Shalis could tell her body was a terrible liar. She had no control over its subtle facial emotions. Everything about it was new.

�I think your lying,� the guard said. �But your little story wont be hard to check out.� He grabbed her by the arm jerked her up, �There�s a phone up the stairs. If you�re telling the truth I�ll apologize. If not...� He threw her towards the stairs; the phone was at the guard station on the middle landing. She let her ankle twist and fell to the ground, only half faking a squeak of agony.

�Get up slut.�

�My ankle. I don�t think I can.� Only slightly more gently he pulled her to her feet. She put her weight on the foot, and there was a twinge of pain. It would be enough to make her act seem believable. She tried to take another step and collapsed under her weight.

He held her up. �I think it�s broken,� she said.

�It better be,� he growled, �because if it isn�t, it will be.� He bent down to touch her ankle and she brought her foot up into his face, with all the strength she could muster.

He fell backwards cursing.

She was out into the alley, the front of her shirt flapping freely; her breast bouncing slightly as she ran towards one of the side streets. Looking back she tripped, just as the guard came out the door. She got up and ran on, cursing her stupid legs for being so slow. She could feel the guard slowly gaining on her but she didn�t dared look back again. A burning sensation began to swell in her knees. Out of the alley she darted, across a softly carpeted lawn, and into the shadows of an old open shed. The close walls amplified her heavy breathing and she walked deeper into the musty shed. Her foot caught and she fell over a pile of wooden boards; a nail piercing the exposed flesh of her leg. She stifled a scream; barely holding back the second scream as she pried the board free. Dampness oozed from the hole.

�I know you�re in there bitch! Come on out now.� He was breathing heavily also. �It�ll only make it worse on you if you don�t.�

Slowly she stood up. Trying to still her noisy breathing, and her pounding heart. She felt weak, and put her hand out in the dark to avoid tripping again. Quietly she moved, the board still held in her hand giving her courage. Its weight felt good. It was solid.

�Too late, cunt! I�m coming in after you!�

Stepping forward, she saw the guard silhouetted in the doorway. There wasn�t much light but she could see him edging forward a shinny object waving in his hand.

Angrily she swung the board with all her might, hoping to knock him unconscious. She watched as the board connected with his neck. Heard the harsh sounding snap and saw him collapse into a heap on the ground.

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