Page 2 of Enslaved By Magic

And now that she was taking a good look around, she noticed that the cottage seemed somehow bigger inside than it had looked outside. She brushed that ridiculous thought aside, of course. No doubt the darkness had hidden part of it away, giving the impression that it was a small one-room hovel like the one her family shared now that their circumstances had changed for the worse. Somehow, though she couldn’t entirely imagine how, it had hidden a second floor, for there was a sturdy set of stairs rising upwards in one corner.

She wondered what marvels lay behind the three closed doors that branched off the main room as well and was tempted to ask, but one look at his face and she quickly downed the last of the soup and then awkwardly held the empty bowl, unsure of what to do with it.

“Your house is beautiful,” she said, her voice rising and falling with nervousness.

He ignored the compliment, and he didn’t offer her a seat or take the bowl either. Instead, he leaned back and looked her over from head to foot. “You’d be lovely with some flesh on your bones,” he commented dispassionately.

Many men had told her she was beautiful before, but never in such an emotionless tone, and she wasn’t sure how to respond. Not that it mattered. He didn’t seem to expect an answer to the comment. He only wanted to know why she was there, and when she said nothing, he sighed.

“Why are you here, girl? If you won’t speak, there is no deal to be made,” he said pointedly.

“I…” She found herself out of words. Her well-rehearsed plea had vanished from her mind and, instead of continuing, she’d begun to twist the bowl around in her hands until finally it spun from her grasp and clattered to the floor. “I’m sorry!” she blurted, immediately scrambling to grab it while it still rolled.

She finally caught it, snatched it up and stood, just in time for him to grab her by the arms and shake her. “If you’ve only come here to waste my time, I will strip your clothes from your body and whip you until there’s not an inch of untouched skin left,” he said in a furious growl.

She had no doubt he meant exactly what he said. “No, I swear. I came for a bargain,” she promised.

He shook her again and then released her, only to shove her into a waiting chair. “Then speak; you’ve taken enough of my night, girl.”

She swallowed hard, hugging her thin body for comfort. “M-my father died a year ago in… in circumstances that were considered…” She paused, searching for the right word and then finally finished with, “Unlucky.” Unlucky, of course, barely described what had happened. It was as though the gods themselves had sent their wrath in his direction. She trembled thinking about his terrible death but forced herself to go on.

“My m-mother is a weaver, so she had been able to provide for us somewhat but then there were rumors”—she swallowed hard and took a deep breath—“rumors that we were cursed. Her customers slowly stopped coming. I was to be married but his family called off the wedding. No other man offered for me, and then my mother got sick and—”

“Stop.” He closed his eyes, as though searching for patience. “I don’t care about your troubles. As important as they must seem to you, your story is of no interest to me. I only need to know what you want from me and what you have to give me in return,” he said. His tone was icy, and the cruelty of his words took her breath away.

To dismiss all that had befallen her family as though it was nothing made her want to turn and leave, but, of course, she couldn’t do that because she had no other options. “I was only explaining so you would understand. My mother and brother have come down with a sickness. They waste away before our eyes, and we have no medicine, nor food to save them. My younger sister, who is said to be much more attractive than I am, tried to—to promise herself to a man in return for help, but even for her beauty, he was unwilling to risk our bad luck,” she said bitterly.

“They will die, and we will starve without help. They say you’re a magic man who can solve any problem for the right price. I thought, I hoped… that someone with such power would be unafraid of our curse and would—” She stopped there, unable to finish the offer.

“Would what? Take you as a mistress? A bed slave perhaps, in return for helping your family?” he asked. To her utter humiliation, he began to laugh.

She balled her hands into fists, crushing the fabric of her skirt in her fingers as tears sprang to her eyes. “Yes!” she said angrily. “I’m not unattractive. Many men asked to marry me before… before my father’s death!”

He shook his head, still chuckling. “Oh, poor girl. I have no interest in using your body. You’re pretty enough, for a skinny stick of a thing, and I suppose that would be well sorted by a few good meals, but I don’t work my magic for that,” he said.

“My body is all I have to offer. There’s nothing else left,” she said. Her tone sounded empty even to her own ears. There was her sister, of course, but she still had hope that the younger girl could have a good life if—if…

“Your body perhaps, but not just for pleasure, girl.” He frowned and shook his head. “If we’re going to do business, I can’t keep calling you ‘girl’; what is your name?” he asked.

Names held a kind of power and she’d read that people who did magic could use them, so she hesitated but, in the end, she gave in. “Amari. My name is Amari, but if you don’t want me, then I don’t see how we can do any business. Unless you’d be willing to help out of the goodness of your heart?” she asked, voice rising hopefully.

He threw back his head and roared with amusement. The sound of the humiliating laughter seemed to echo in the room, and she cringed back in her seat so hard that her body almost disappeared into the deep cushions. Shaking his head, he pulled another chair around in front of her, and sat with his knees almost touching hers. The lack of space between them kept her pressed back as she was, and her body trembled with fear.

“I have no goodness in my heart. Not for you, not for any of your kind, but especially not for you,” he said in a low, harsh tone that only added to her terror.

She had no idea what he meant by ‘your kind’ or why he would single her out specifically, but she had no intention of asking either. “Then tell me what you want. Please, I’ll do anything,” she pleaded.

“Anything?” The word was practically a purr and he leaned in close. “What if I could promise enough coin to keep your family in good circumstances for the rest of their lives?” he asked.

Her eyes widened and she licked her bottom lip in a nervous gesture as she nodded slowly. “If you can help my family, give them back their health and enough money to prosper, then, yes, anything,” she said. The determination in her words made it clear that she meant them, but she couldn’t hide the fact that she was still afraid. It seemed too good to be true, and she knew from haggling in the market that this meant there was something she wasn’t going to like. “But what is the price?”

“You will be the price—I told you that you would be useful for more than just pleasure,” he said. He seemed amused at the way she recoiled. “As I said, I have no desire for your body; others might, but I won’t touch you. I do have a use for you, however, if you’re sure you want to go through with it. Is your family really worth ‘all you have left’, Amari?”

Her pulse jumped and she could feel the blood rushing from her head so quickly that she was nearly overwhelmed with dizziness. “You—want me to be a whore?” she whispered, shocked. It was worse than she’d thought. She’d resigned herself to warming his bed and being his plaything. One man was similar to another she’d been told, so she knew she’d survive it, but to be hired out to any man? That was a nightmare.

His eyes flashed a curious amber color and he snarled, “No, you stupid girl! I want to make you something greater than you could ever be otherwise. I want to raise you from the gutter and give you power the likes of which you’ve never dreamed of. All of it can be yours, and I will take care of your family as well. In return I ask for one small thing. Your service for… a period of time.”

There was such an intensity to his words, and she didn’t know what to make of that. “My service,” she repeated. Her voice had gone flat, dull.

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