Page 13 of To Bind A Dark Heart

“In my experience they are,” a man said from the doorway, another one of the Harvestmen. The big red-haired one that reminded me of a Kyrie with his hawklike gaze. I’d almost killed him once when he’d been scouting to find our hideouts. He looked different from when I’d found his perch, lying motionless on a cliff in the Black Highlands for hours as he watched us. He was cleaner, and better fed, but just as dangerous; I should have finished him when I had the chance. But Haemir had been there and his priority was always saving who we could, not vengeance, and he’d called me off.

“Zerek!” Raenisa hollered with an affable grin, sprawling on the cushions like she owned the place. “Come and eat. Theron is speaking with his mother and wants us to entertain his trophy.”

“Better call for more wine than. He’ll need it after crossing fangs with the Weaver.” He leaned forward to grab a hank of roasted ferolope wrapped in a desert palm leaf.

“You know that’s right.” She laughed, her expression falling when another elf joined them. He was tall and lean as a blade, the sides of his head shaved, the black length of his hair trailing down his shoulders. He stepped lightly, almost like a cactus cat threading the dunes. I recognized him; the careful male, always hanging back a little from the rest of the group when scouting, and the one I’d encountered most on raids.

“Herrath,” she greeted him coldly, her previous good humor melting away.

“Raenisa, Zerek.” He sat, his posture perfect and at odds with the other Harvestmen’s ease. I eyed them, trying to figure out why their demeanors had changed.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with the other snakes?” Zerek remarked, running a hand through his messy red waves.

“I’m not a Vennorin.” He scowled as if they’d had this conversation often.

“Might as well be,” Zerek muttered, and I looked back and forth between them, intrigued despite myself.

“I’d rather be here,” Herrath said, sitting up straighter as Mirijana returned.

“I talked to Kadir, and he’s going to be bringing up a bunch of choices, especially in the Axidor colors.” She beamed at me.

Joy.Then I could be another piece of furniture.

“I don’t need much.” I’d be leaving soon, not that they knew that.

“Theron said a full wardrobe,” Raenisa called, and I scowled at her.

“Anyone else think it’s strange that Theron claimed a concubine?” Herrath asked, leaning forward and grabbing a handful of roasted seeds. “He’s never done that before.”

All their eyes turned to me, and cold shivers ran down my spine. The combination of malice, indifference, and appraisal washed over me and I had to resist the urge to curl up in a ball.

Fuck, this was bad.

“Not that I care what you think, but it is weird,” Zerek said, tossing a berry into the air and catching it in his mouth. “What do you think happened? Did Theo knick him with his sword and he’s acting in a half-drugged stupor?”

Raenisa snorted. “What else was he supposed to do?”

“Lose?” Herrath shrugged.

“And give Rhazien the opening to kill him?” Zerek shook his head, grabbing more food. “This was the right play. I just wish he’d picked one that didn’t glare so much.”

“Hopefully, he’ll tire of her soon.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and Mirijana smiled uncomfortably. “Miss, why don’t you come into the bedroom and we can discuss your options before Kadir arrives?”

I stood, happy to leave the Harvestmen to their meal. The bastards. Any time a slave escaped, they were the ones scooping them out of the sand and dragging them back to be punished by the Beast. It was strange seeing them as just people and not fearsome spider-mounted warriors, scouring the Red Wilds for our hideouts. Stranger still to be treated as a prized possession, rather than chattel.

The Marshal’s room was the complete opposite of the oppressive atmosphere outside. It was like a cocoon made of warmth, silken sheets, and pillows on a massive bed topped with a bedspread that featured a wyrm done in deep reds and iron accents. Shelves lined one wall, filled with books and pictures of mythical beasts. Thick luxurious rugs covered the floor, giving it a cozy feel even with its expansive size. A fire crackled in the hearth off to the side, providing gentle heat to ward off any chills from the night air.

The walls were adorned with large tapestries depicting fantastical creatures and another that looked like a diagram of an ancient sand wyrm, its wings outspread and labeled in Elvish. It wasn’t anything I expected.

“Let’s just take a look in the harem en suite and see if there’s anything in there to work with,” Mirijana said, opening the door to a connected room. “Oh. Well, this complicates things.” The room was empty, only a sparring mat spread across the massive space. I frowned. No windows in here either. Would the Beast sleep somewhere similar? I’d need to be welcomed in to infiltrate a bedroom like this.

“So, how long have you worked here?” I asked, casually flashing her the rebel hand sign to see how she’d react.

“Three years,” she replied with a smile, oblivious to the signal I’d sent. I didn’t think she was one of ours, but I had to check.

“And you like it?” I pressed, looking for a collar or piercings and not finding any.

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