Masques (Sianim #1)(3)

"Be that as it may" - with apparent effort the Magician dismissed the thought of his son - "'your servants probably will be awaiting you even now."

"Yes, I should go. You may be sure I shall remember your gracious offer of assistance if ever I need help." With that Myr bowed once more and left.

Watching Myr leave, the Magician smiled - the slight imperfection of one eyetooth lending charm to the perfect curve of his lips. "What a clever, clever child you have grown to be, Myr," His voice purred with approval. "It is too bad you are forced to play your games with an adult." Aralorn felt her apprehension turn to real concern for the welfare of the King of Reth.

It was late before the crowd began to thin and later still before everyone had gone, Aralorn fell more nervous as each person left, knowing that the meager protection they offered would soon be gone. Alter seeing the last couple out, the ae'Magi walked slowly over to the cage.

"So," he said, swaying gently back on his heels, "the Rethian doesn't see my pretty Northland bird. When he looked at you, he looked where your eyes are, not where the eyes of the falcon would have been."

Plague it, she thought, the man is too observant. The ae'Magi put one hand through the bars and caressed her neck. She leaned against him and rubbed her cheek on his hand, forcing herself to obey the vague compulsion of the charismatic spell that he maintained.

The ae'Magi tilted her face so that her eyes met his and said in a leading tone, "I wonder how he broke through my illusion."

She'd had some time to think out her actions after Myr left. If he found out for sure that Myr was immune to magic, then it would be the king's death sentence. She heaved an inward sigh and braced herself. "But he didn't break through your spell, Master," she answered without apparent thought.

He looked down at her expressionlessly, and she quit fighting the urge to curl into a ball on the floor of the cage. He made a small motion with a finger and she screamed as her body twisted helplessly.

Each time he did this to her was worse than the time before. She watched as the tendons pulled and stretched, protesting the sensations they endured. When it finally stopped she didn't fight the tremors that shook her, telling herself that she was playing her part - but wondering deep inside whether she could have stopped had she tried. After she lay still he said softly, "I don't like to be contradicted, child. He knew you were not a falcon."

"Yes," she said hoarsely, from her position on the floor of the cage. "He knew. I think that his magician broke the spell for him."

"What magician?" The ae'Magi's voice was sharp, almost worried.

"He was sitting over behind that pillar." She pointed to someplace vaguely on the far side of the room.

"What made you think that he was a magician?"

"He made gestures like you do sometimes. He left with the king." Aralorn kept her voice to a whisper such as a frightened girl might use.

"What did he look like?"

"I don't know; he stayed in the shadows."

"What did the boy say to you?" He held the word boy just a little longer than necessary, apparently liking it better than "king."

"I don't remember ..." This time it was worse because she felt her mind begin to lose control of itself. As a mercenary she had learned not to let pain bother her too much; but whatever it was that he did with his spell didn't work only on her body - though her muscles cramped hard enough that she could hear the bones begin to break. The now-familiar feeling of shame crept over her. She should try harder to please the Master; why wasn't she behaving herself? Guilt wormed its way in along with a sensation of unworthiness. As suddenly as it had begun it stopped, leaving her shuddering and crying helplessly.

"When I ask you something, I expect an answer." The ae'Magi's voice was gentle.

"He asked if I wanted to be freed and I told him that I wanted to be here. I live only to serve you, Master. It is my honor to serve the ae'Magi ..." She let her voice trail off. That's it, she cheered herself silently, placate him, stay in character; the gasps as she fought against crying and the whimper at the end were a nice touch; artistic, really - it was too bad that she hadn't thought of them herself.

He reached a hand out to her and she cuddled against it, getting as close to him as she could, almost wishing that the spell he used to increase his charisma was more effective on her. As it was she experienced an overwhelming desire to bite the manicured fingers - or throw up. The cold, painted bronze of the cage dug into her side.

"What else did you say to him, Little One?" His voice was at its musical best.

She pulled back from him and gave him a wide-eyed, somewhat confused look even as she felt herself regain some of her sanity. "Did you want me to say something else to him? I didn't because I wasn't sure if you would want me to." She deliberately widened her eyes as if she were pleading with him to be pleased with her, trying to keep herself from tensing in anticipation of the wild, twisting pain.

"No. You did well." He absently patted her cheek. "You are learning more rapidly than I thought you could. I've been working lately and haven't had the time to do more with you. Tomorrow, when I've completed this spell, I'll see what I can do to remedy that." If she were in any doubt about what he was talking about, the hand that ran lightly down her breast would have clarified it for her. The ae'Magi seemed satisfied that the shudder that ran through her at his touch was in response to desire. He smiled warmly at her and, humming a sweet tune, walked lightly through the archway.