Page 107 of The Cursed Kingdom

My movements feel, and I’m sure also look, robotic as I shuffle forward. Zaha takes another sip of her drink, her calculating gaze sliding slowly from my head to my toes, then back up. I’m unsure how close she wants me to get, so I stop when I’m just beyond arm’s reach.

I don’t want her to lunge forward and try to snatch me or anything.

Although I doubt the woman who can create and manipulate portals like its child’s play would have much trouble catching me if she wanted to. She’s got the power to destroy entire realms at the snap of her fingers. I should stay on her good side.

My attention momentarily flickers to the line of women standing along the fence behind Zaha. Were they given to her just as I was, or are their situations voluntary? They look healthy, so I assume they’re given food and access to basic hygiene.

Unless Zaha forces them to keep up appearances in public and beats them behind closed doors. Maybe she has a revolving door of slaves she works through. They stick around for a few weeks, perhaps a couple of months, until they die and are replaced.

Zaha raises a brow, the corners of her lips twitching. I scramble to change the direction of my thoughts, not wanting her to hear them. I would’ve found the idea of somebody readingmy mind ridiculous a month ago, but not anymore. What seems impossible to me is normal to these people.

“Abby,” Zaha says, testing out my name.

I never gave it to her, and neither Kie nor Mason have mentioned it. She must know it from watching us in the forest. Or she had one of her people look into me, probably anticipating that I’d be offered to her. Or she heard it from my thoughts.

“You’re pretty.” She cocks her head to the side. “Do you want to be here?”

I gulp, not expecting to be asked that. I also have absolutely no idea how to respond. The true answer is a loud, firmno, but what if this is a trick question? It could make me seem rebellious, and it might encourage Zaha to send me off for training. Sayingyes, however, might make her more inclined to take me.

She probably thinks being her slave is an improvement compared to living in the human realm.

It might be for some people, but not for me. I’ve got family, friends, and an entire fucking life I’d like to get back to.

After a momentary hesitation, I give an uncertain shrug. A non-answer.

Zaha blinks, not looking like she believes me, but doesn’t push the subject. I’m relieved, and I hope that means I didn’t completely fuck up. She peers back at the women standing along the fence, and two step forward.

They’re slightly shorter than the others, but they look just as intimidating. The one on the left has no hair, and there are a few dark lines tattooed on her scalp. I wonder what they mean.

The woman on the right has short, cropped hair. It’s black, but her eyebrows are white, so I’m unsure if the color is natural. Their footsteps are silent against the stone patio, probably because they aren’t wearing shoes. None of the slaves are, and I wonder if their feet are cold.

“These are my humans,” Zaha says, gesturing to the two women. “Rose is a skilled gymnast, and Violet has a fun dimple on her chin.”

The two women keep their heads down. I attempt to read their expressions, but I don’t detect any emotion, not even a twitch of their lips or shifting of their eyes. Are they even breathing? They’re so still, I honestly can’t tell.

Zaha looks toward Kie and Mason. “And what do you want in exchange for her?”

It’s Kie who speaks. “There are rumors that Alpha Theon is harvesting delysum. He’s building weapons, preparing for war. There isn’t enough land for both our people, and the deadlands have been uninhabitable for several generations now…”

Zaha raises a hand, cutting Kie off. “And it will remain uninhabitable for several generations more.”

“Did you create delysum?” It’s Mason who speaks.

Zaha recoils, momentarily shocked by the shifter’s curt tone. She recovers quickly, though.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because your grandfather asked me to.” She takes another bite of bread. “Atticus came here begging me to repair the deadlands, and I gave him the same answer I’m giving you. He was pitiful, though, begging on his knees the way he did, so I gave him a bud of delysum, with which he might protect his people.”

Kie grunts. “Well, thatbudtook root, and Redstall is covered in delysum. The magic in the forest is all but dead.”

Another bite of bread, then, “I prevent the flower from blooming outside the forest walls, do I not?” Silence. Neither Kie nor Mason have a response to that. Zaha continues. “Your people are unprepared for war,Prince Kieran, and that is not myconcern.” She points to me. “Tell me what makes Abby valuable. Why should I want her?”

She shouldn’t. I’m a talentless schlep.

Neither Kie nor Mason answer right away. All they know about me is my age, name, and profession, and I doubt my ability to type numbers into a calculator is something Zaha will be impressed with.

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