Page 39 of Captive

Chapter 9

Novikke felt the presence of the tiny metal thing in her pocket for the entire walk back to her prison. Zaiur hardly looked back at her. He hadn’t an inkling of what had just happened. There was no reason for him to suspect anything, but as he fastened her to the post, she was terrified that he would somehow know.

“You are very quiet tonight. I did not think you would give up so easily,” Zaiur said as he finished tying her. He moved to face her. “I like you better like this.”

She looked at his feet, praying for him to leave.

He crouched to meet her eye level. When she still refused to look at him, he took her chin in his hand and forced her face up toward his. His fingers on her felt like every disgusting, awful thing that crawled beneath the dirt or slithered in gutters.

“Don’t touch me,” she said through her teeth, but she didn’t have enough room to pull away from him.

A finger snaked across her jaw, and then he held her chin between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes went to her lips. For a horrible moment, she thought he was going to kiss her.

“Would you rather have Aruna?”

She didn’t react.

“I think he wanted to fuck you, too. He did not, though, did he? He wouldn’t. What a waste.” He let go, pulling back to study her. “Would you struggle? Or would you just be still and wait for it to be done with? Before, I would have guessed the former. But now I think maybe you have given up.” He smiled. “You did give up eventually, last time.”

“You’re never going to convince me to sleep with you willingly, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“We will see if you are still so certain when the blade is at your throat. I think I can make you do many things, with the right incentive.”

Finally, he went to the door. He looked over his shoulder at her to add, “But either way would be fine with me.”

He left, shutting the door behind him. She let out a breath, leaning her head back against her post.

“He enjoys drawing a reaction out of you,” Neiryn said from across the room. “If you don’t offer one, he will grow bored. That’s why he doesn’t talk to me anymore.”

“Then how should I react?” Novikke snarled. “It makes no difference how I act. He’s going to do what he wants, regardless.” She scowled at him with misdirected rage because she couldn’t direct it anywhere else. It made her feel a little better to yell at someone. She snorted. “You’re a man. Of course you don’t understand. You probably—”

She cut herself off, deciding that the last thing she’d been about to say was probably unfair. She was not feeling generous toward men at the moment, or toward anyone. “I’m going to kill him,” she said instead, and began trying to reposition herself so she could reach into her pocket.

Neiryn’s expression didn’t change much, but for the first time, she sensed a bit of sympathy from him. He looked away and didn’t offer any further advice. He also didn’t comment on the way she was twisting to try to get to the object in her pocket. She ended up having to get halfway standing, holding one leg out and wiggling until it fell out of her pocket and clinked onto the floor.

It was a flat piece of metal with short protrusion on one side, like a small key—as she had guessed, but hadn’t dared hope for.

She peered across the hut at the surly, beaten-half-to-death elf that was now her only hope of getting out of there alive.

“Neiryn,” she said quietly. “If I got that collar off you, could you magic us out of here?”

“How, pray tell, would you get this collar off me?”

“Could you get us out, if I did?”

“If you got this collar off, I would bathe this entire cursed forest in Aevyr’s holy fire.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Here. Look.”

When he looked over impatiently, she nodded to the key on the ground. It was startling how quickly his demeanor changed.

His eyes went wide. “That’s—Where did you get that?” he hissed.

“A gift from a fairy.”

He glanced at the door. “Give it to me.”

Novikke hesitated. “If I give this to you, you have to help me. We escape together.”

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