White Stag (Permafrost #1)(84)



“Now, what’s your name?”

My name. I didn’t want him to know my name. I didn’t want him to know the name my siblings and parents called in joy and anger and laughter and love, the name my fellow men muttered in disgust underneath their voices and with grudging respect to my face. It was mine. The only thing left besides the nail stuck inside my boot. But a nail couldn’t help me against this creature that had slaughtered an entire village, could it?

I willed myself to fight, to refuse, but there was so much pain, so much darkness, and not an ounce of spark still left in my soul. “Janneke,” I said quietly, trying to pretend that my name meant nothing when it really meant the world. “My name is Janneke, master.”

“Janneke,” he said, smiling. “Janneka, perhaps?”

“No!” I shouted. Not that. He could have my name, the real one meant to be used by all, but not Janneka. Not the special name meant for a single special person. Not that.

He smiled. “Janneka, then.” He crouched down so our eyes met. “You and I are going to have a very nice, long time together, Janneka.”

Then he let me go, and the blessed blackness overcame me.

The darkness never stayed for long. Even lying in the dungeon with cold fetters around my wrists, every time I drifted off, the screaming of another prisoner or the sweet, poisonous voice of my captor pulled me from my sleep. In the darkness the passage of time was impossible to measure. I could’ve been down here for a week, a few months, even a year, and I wouldn’t know the difference. The smell of blood wafted all around, from other prisoners, from me, from whatever thing the guard was eating. Every so often, a squeal would pierce the cold air and then stop with a sickening crunch.

Keys jangled and the lock on my cell door clinked open. I pulled myself into a sitting position. Maybe if I sat up, he wouldn’t take me this time. Maybe the smell of blood and pus that came from my chest would disappear. Maybe … maybe …

The harsh light of a kerosene lantern burned my eyes, illuminating the dark cell. I squeezed my eyes shut as slow footsteps rapped across the room, and someone settled by me with a rustle of cloth. “Janneka,” he said.

I whimpered. What did he want? Didn’t he know by now I had nothing to give him?

“Janneka,” he said again, and I opened my eyes.

He was crouched down beside me, his golden hair spilling over his shoulders. In the firelight, his green eyes gleamed. “Good morning,” he said, reaching out with a gloved hand to inspect a bruise on the side of my face. “I don’t think I made this one.”

“You didn’t,” I said.

He raised his eyebrows. “No one is allowed in here but me.” He eyed the chains that restrained my wrists. “I find it hard to believe you did this to yourself.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t give your guardsman a master key,” I spat. My saliva ran bloody on the ground.

He sighed and clicked his tongue. “I guess we’ll have to take care of that, won’t we?” I shivered as he raked his gaze over my freezing, bloody body. “You’re mine. Only mine. Maybe we should remind him?”

I swallowed, stomach churning at what exactly “reminding” the guardsman would entail. Why couldn’t I just choke on my tongue? I shouldn’t have said anything.

Lydian let go of my chin, and I looked down at the ground. His hands were examining the rest of my body, checking for the cuts and bruises that he made, the swelling infections and pus dripping down lacerations so deep I couldn’t feel them anymore. He was always careful not to let my injuries be completely life-threatening. He wanted me to hurt, but dying meant he’d lose his favorite toy. He tugged my shirt down and touched my mangled right breast—if you could even call it that anymore. It was practically destroyed.

He stopped then and reached around to a bag across his shoulder. I winced as he rustled through it. “Now.” He smiled. “We’re going to play a game, okay?”

I nodded, forcing bile back down my throat.

He bounced a piece of hard cheese in his hand and kept my gaze. “Tell me what makes you so special. Tell me why you keep appearing with the fire. Tell me everything.”

The chains rattled as I shook. He was rambling again, and there was no way to please him when that happened. “I don’t know what you mean.” I must’ve said it a hundred times already.

Lydian stroked my cheek with his thumb. “I know you’re scared. But if you tell me what I need to know, then we can fix this. We can make sure it never happens.”

“What are you talking about?” Tears trickled down my cheeks and I let out a silent prayer to any deity that would bother listening. Take me away from here, bring me anywhere, but let me leave this place. Please help me. My eyes fixed greedily on the food in his hand. It’d been so long since I’d eaten; I didn’t even feel the pain of it anymore.

“Tell you what,” Lydian said, palming the cheese. “Let’s you and I let the guard know who is whose, and then when everyone is well educated, you can eat something.”

I closed my eyes, tears still falling. The lock on the cell clicked again, and someone else stumbled inside. He smelled like firewater, and he was saying something to Lydian in a harsh goblin tone. There was a shriek and the sound of claws ripping through flesh, then the thump as a body hit the floor. The footsteps came back to me, and I willed myself to get lost in the darkness as Lydian fiddled with his belt.

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