Page 37 of Scourged

By the second day, Mariah was feeling weaker. Exhausted. She grew light-headed, and her thoughts floated idly through her mind. She couldn’t sleep; her stomach shriveled into a tight ball that panged angrily against the hollow walls of her abdomen.

The third day, she thought she might be on the verge of madness. The water had stopped, and her thirst added to her hunger. Everything was shrinking, shriveling, drying from the inside out. Her eyelids were heavy, her tongue was thick, and every bone and muscle in her body hurt.

Mariah had always thought starvation would feel like a wasting sickness. But really, it was consuming her, devouring her until she feared there would be nothing left.

She was so lost to her hunger and thirst that she didn’t notice the servant arrive. Not until Ellis’s soft snicker broke the monotonous silence. The guard smiled cruelly at her as the servant shuffled forward, bearing a tray, a glass of water, and a pitcher of wine.

When the scent hit her, all humanity left her.

The aroma was rich, warm, and savory as it wrapped around her, running devilish claws through her mind and down the empty walls of her stomach. Instinct consumed her: a drive for food, for water, foranythingto abate the ravenous pain wracking her famished body. She lurched forward, off her cot, a feral growl rumbling low from the back of her throat.

She’d always been a bit of a caged, starved beast.

Now it was just far more literal.

Ellis unlocked her cell door with a sneer, waving the servant in. She bent down, placing the tray on the floor, and hastily retreated.

The moment the door closed, Mariah launched herself at the tray of food, nearly knocking the liquids over in her desperate haste.

“Pathetic,” Ellis muttered through the bars of her cell, then followed the servant and stalked a few paces down the hall. Mariah paid them no heed.

The meal was delectable. Roast mutton, mashed potatoes, a mound of vegetables sauteed in a sauce that was both salty and sweet. The water washed down her shoveling bites, and the wine burned her throat with welcomed pain.

“There are no gifts here. Do not fall for this. Stay the course, stay strong.”

Somewhere, in the part of her mind that had not yet succumbed to pure instinct, a goddess whispered to her.

But Mariah ignored the voice, in no mood to listen. Not when her stomach clenched around something other than itself, whenher palette tasted of herbs and spices and her nose was filled with the scent of cooked lamb.

The plate was empty within minutes. Mariah had to force herself from licking the last of the sauces and scraps from the porcelain. The water was now empty, and the wine slowly seeped into her veins with molten contentedness. She sat back, reveling in the bloat to her stomach, resting a hand on her chest as she breathed deeply.

As she sat and breathed … the molten flow of her blood thickened into sludge.

Into something far more noxious.

Mariah’s eyes flew open just as her conscious mind processed the warning that had flitted through her moments ago.

There were no gifts here.

The binds wrapped around her like a sudden vise. Her limbs fell away from her control, her mind locked into a steel trap as surely as her magic was by the black and gold cuffs around her wrists. Realization spawned through her, rash and wild and angry, as the paralysis settled into her bones.

She’d been drugged.

Her mind was very much awake, but everything else was sealed away. Terror gripped her in its clutches as footsteps and voices echoed in the hall.

“She was starving. I’m sure she’s eaten it all by now. Shawth said it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes for it to take effect.”

The guards, Ellis and Konnor, appeared in the dim hallway, Konnor carrying his usualallumelamp. Ellis unlocked the door, standing in the frame. “Stand.”

The command tore through Mariah. Her mind screamed and kicked and fought and scratched, but it was no use. Her body was no longer hers to control. She felt her legs unfold, her arms pushing her up. Once she was standing, she turned to face hercaptors, hoping and praying to the goddesses who’d tried to stop this from happening that those men would see the rage boiling inside her irises, like a forest set ablaze.

The idle amusement on Ellis’s face told her that her prayers were ignored. Just as she’d ignored the warning.

She couldn’t say she blamed Zadione and her sister. They’d tried to help, and she ignored them. As she tended to do.

Ellis turned and snapped his fingers. Two servant girls, eyes wide and set into youthful faces no more than sixteen years old, melted out from the shadows.

“Take her upstairs, to where we showed you. Ensure she’s bathed and dressed. The lords expect her at dinner tonight.” Ellis faced Mariah. “Go with them and do whatever they tell you.”

---