Page 19 of Invocation

Disgust crept up her throat. She turned a mistrustful eye on Aruna. He took out the notebook.

“It’s how we know they’re accounted for,” he wrote. “The names of their masters are on the collars.”

He wanted to put one of those on her. She gave a disgusted scoff.

Aruna stared at her stiffly. Novikke regretted that her hands weren’t free for her to write, or she’d have told him exactly how she felt about this terrible idea.

His brows tipped inward a little. “It will help you blend in,” he wrote. “People will wonder about you if you don’t have one.”

Against her better judgement, she nodded. Satisfied, Aruna pointed to the “thank you” he’d written earlier.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Novikke muttered. He took her arm again and pulled her into the crowd.

They walked through the square and into another tunnel, down another series of steps, and into an even more massive cavern. Novikke wondered at how it all held itself up. The space was the size of a small town, and it was all under a dome of rock deep in the ground.

It was too dark for her to see where she was stepping. The only light came from too-dim mage lights and occasional flickering torches scattered around on walls and paths. The lack of vision was disorienting. Bodies she could hardly see brushed past her, further confusing her. The air was thick with words she didn’t understand from sources she couldn’t see. The longer she was here, the more alien this place felt. It was so much bigger and more overwhelming than she’d anticipated.

She focused on Aruna’s hand on her elbow, clinging to that solid touch in the midst of this sea of strangeness. Suddenly she was terrified that he’d let go and she’d be alone, trapped.

Every once in a while, they passed another slave. Novikke’s eyes would curiously dart to theirs, but they rarely returned her gaze. One woman she passed had bruises all over her face. Anger and fear flared hot in Novikke’s chest as she looked at her. She averted her eyes, resolving to stare at the ground from then on. Aruna’s hand squeezed her arm again, in a way that she supposed was meant to be encouraging, but it was a struggle not to jerk away from him.

Aruna stopped beside an open doorway on the bottom floor of a narrow building. Novikke stepped up behind him, glad to be out of the crowd. It was brighter inside, with candles flickering in sconces on the walls. It was a leatherworker’s shop, judging by the wares on display.

He gave her a cautious glance, then took out the notebook and had begun writing something when a voice from inside the shop interrupted him.

A man with graying hair appeared in the doorway, glanced at Novikke, and ushered Aruna inside. Novikke watched him narrowly, immediately disliking him.

Words were exchanged. Aruna’s voice swung with the same quick, disjointed cadence of all the voices outside. He finally unwound the rope on her wrists.

The man disappeared behind a counter and came back holding one of those damned collars. He gestured toward a chair in the middle of the room. Aruna shoved her, and she stumbled into it. She shot him an annoyed glance, which he didn’t acknowledge. He watched her expressionlessly, arms crossed.

She saw the shopkeeper approach with a needle and thread, and realized that he was going to sew the thing onto her so that it couldn’t be removed. His hand palmed the back of her head and shoved it forward so that her chin touched her chest. Leather wrapped around her neck. He positioned it so that the ends overlapped, leaving a square of material where he could sew the leather to itself.

The shopkeeper said something, and they both laughed. They talked as he began to sew. The tone of the conversation was so light, they might have been discussing the weather. She looked at Aruna’s feet. He seemed very far away even though he was standing just in front of her. He leaned forward to brush her hair away from her neck and hold it out of the way while the other man worked.

The needle stabbed her as it jabbed through the leather, and she jumped. The man made an annoyed comment and Aruna’s hands appeared on either side of her head, holding her still.

Unwelcome images cropped up in her mind—memories of being held down by strong, unkind hands, of being bound, of blades slicing through her skin, of blinding terror. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Her heart pounded unevenly.

What had she been thinking, coming here, letting them do this to her, putting herself at the mercy of people who hated her? Everything depended upon Aruna. If he could protect her. If he would protect her.

How easy it would be for him to decide he liked her better this way, and just never take off that collar. What was the difference between pretending to be a slave and truly being one, really? She already looked the part. She was already helpless and alone. He could…

A tremble of Panic vibrated up her throat.

Don’t. Stop thinking that.

Calm down.

Calm down.

The needle pricked her skin again, and she flinched. Their voices carried over her head, strangely distant. Every muscle in her body was taut. Her fingers gripped the arms of the chair so hard that she half expected the wood to splinter. Her shoulders were hunched to her ears. Aruna’s hands were still on her head, and the shopkeeper’s fingers dug into her neck. They wouldn’t stop touching her. The collar tightened around her, choking her.

After ages, he finished, knotting the thread and then snapping it off. Novikke stared at the floor, frozen. She heard more talking, and then someone took her hand and pulled her to her feet. The world was distant and unreal. She couldn’t really see her surroundings, and it had nothing to do with the dark.

She let herself be pulled out of the shop and onto the street. Bodies pressed in again. Unfamiliar words floated all around. Her throat tightened.

Someone—Aruna—said something she didn’t understand. She saw a dark path with no one on it. In a rush, she pulled away from him and darted into the alley beside the shop, away from the crowd. In the relative seclusion there, she put her back against the wall and tried to breathe and not vomit.

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