Markelle looked at Cariena expectantly. Cariena gulped, and it took her several seconds to answer. She rattled off a list of herbs, some of which I knew, some of which were unfamiliar. They probably had different names in the Otherworld.
“Do Abigail and Art ever eat here? Like, do they cook? Is their kitchen stocked?”
Markelle nodded. “But we never prepare the food-it’s always them.” She was quick-minded; she’d probably thought I was going to suggest poison. Not a bad idea, really.
“Are there any ingredients in the nightshade mix that look like other herbs they might have in the kitchen?”
Both girls looked confused. “I’ve seen no other herbs,” said Cariena.
“You have freedom of the house.” I knew most girls stayed in the basement, though. “The next time they’re not around, go through the cupboards. If their kitchen’s stocked, they must have a spice rack.”
A knock sounded at the door. “What’s taking so long?” Abigail called.
“See if any spices look like the ones in the potion,” I hissed as the doorknob turned. “Swap them.”
Abigail entered just as Markelle held me down. Cariena poured while Abigail watched with a critical eye. “You’re too slow,” snapped the shaman. “She needs this regularly.”
Both girls groveled, bowing their heads deferentially. “Forgive us,” said Cariena. I knew her contrition wasn’t faked. “It won’t happen again.”
Abigail rolled her eyes. “Stupid girls. I’ll have to do it myself next time.”
The instant effect that damned potion always had began to run through me. The familiar blackness swept over me, and I slept.
Another day went by. Leith “visited,” and the girls apparently hadn’t taken my advice on the nightshade because my six-hour cycle repeated as usual. Abigail usually came with one of the girls now, apparently not trusting them anymore. Art came once as well, and a few caustic comments from me earned me another cuffed hand.
I began to understand the roles they played. Both participated in the brokering and sale of the girls. Art helped Leith’s men catch the girls and offered his home-the one I’d once thought too large for a guy like him-as their prison. Abigail seemed to handle the day-to-day affairs of taking care of the girls, and it occurred to me one day that those handcuffs at her place hadn’t been part of anything kinky. They’d been part of her arsenal for this hellhole, and I suspected the trip to see her “sister” that day had probably been to deliver some poor girl to her new owner. I cringed at what that car ride must have been like. For a gentry to be surrounded in all that metal and technology…it would have been awful for her.
Leith was getting dressed after one of his conjugal visits one day. I was close enough to my next nightshade dose that I was able to shoot him looks of contempt-ones he didn’t notice. He seemed particularly excited.
“It’s been a week,” he said. “One more week, and Abigail says we can test to see if you’re carrying my child.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I can feel it, Eugenie. I know we’ve done it.”
There was no “we” in sexual assault, but again, I found it easier just to remain silent lately. It usually made him leave that much more quickly, which then left me alone with my thoughts and my aching body. Sometimes after he visited, my body would feel so violated and dirty that I’d hate it. Then I’d remember that none of this was the fault of my body or me. It was Leith.
Shortly after his departure that day, Abigail and Markelle came in with my next dose. I’d heard talk that Markelle had a buyer. Her days really were numbered now, and I felt bad for her, this girl who’d once fought back against her captors. I was so used to the nightshade by now that they almost didn’t need to hold me down anymore to force me to take it. It was a bit disheartening that I felt that way now and wondered if I too was on my way to that sad resignation everyone else had.
The two of them left, and I lay there, waiting for the unconsciousness that always followed. It usually lasted an hour or so before I came to and lived in my fuzzy state until the next dose. Sure enough, I started to feel a little tingly…but no sleepiness followed. I lay there, scarcely daring to breathe. After falling drearily into a strict regimen, any sort of change was a shock to my system. I waited and waited. No unconsciousness.
My blurry, addled state didn’t disappear, but it didn’t get any worse than when I was due for my next dose. Holy shit. One of them had done it. One of those girls had swapped out the nightshade tincture’s ingredients. Who? I would have wagered money on Markelle over timid Cariena. Markelle occasionally had that rebellious spark in her eyes, despite her docile behavior, and her impending sale would be serious motivation. She was from the Thorn Land too-my subject. Sometimes I got the feeling that she truly believed her queen could get her out of this.
But did I? I still didn’t know if I could get myself out of this. My weapons were long since gone, and I didn’t think I had the strength to launch a physical attack on Abigail or Art. My door was kept locked, so there was no prowling for me. Gingerly, I sat up. The world shifted as usual, but again, not like it normally would have post-potion.
What to do with this freedom? I had no guarantees my next dose wouldn’t be the usual stuff. That gave me six hours, and the further that time progressed, the better shape I’d be in. I would have given anything for a clock or even a glimpse of the sun. I needed to track the time, waiting until the last possible moment for my strength to be at its peak. It looked like I’d have to wing it and hope my guess was right.
For a moment, panic washed over me. There seemed no obvious options, and I didn’t know how fast the potion would let up. Anyone could walk right in at any time. Leith could come in. Leith…With some of that fuzziness gone from my head, the memories of what he’d done to me came through more sharply, and my fear grew-
No! I swiftly ordered myself not to think about any of that. Not Leith. Not overwhelming odds. I needed to think only of escape, and for that, I needed to start with small details.
I’d been good today-no bindings. And with the nightshade, no one felt the need to give me iron bracelets like the girls. That meant no blocking of my magic, short of the potion. Somehow, I doubted I’d have the power in six hours to blow this place up with a mini-hurricane. What did that leave me? Hopefully physical stamina…and with it…my shamanic powers?
Now the countdown began. The minutes were agony, particularly since I had no way to count them. At first, I just attempted general counting in my head, but that grew tedious. I had nothing to do but wait and gauge my own body’s recovery.
And recover it did. Oh, I was a long way from being able to kick anyone’s ass, but my wits grew a little clearer. Standing and moving didn’t hurt much either. Finally, I decided it was now or never. I had to take my gamble. Maybe it was well before the six hours, but I couldn’t risk going over.
It would have been easier with my wand, candles, and other accoutrements. What I had to do wasn’t impossible, though. I turned off the lights, plunging me into darkness, and sat on the bed cross-legged.
“Volusian,” I said softly. “By the ties that bind, I summon you to come to me and obey my commands.”
Weak as I was, I felt my will go out, stretching beyond the worlds to my minion. At first, I thought it was useless-then, I felt it. The slightest twitching of our bond. I gritted my teeth, drawing all the strength I could. “I summon you,” I growled. “Obey me and come.”
For a moment, I thought I’d failed. Then, a coldness filled the room, and red eyes burned before me. Seeing them in the blackness was too scary, and I stumbled up to turn the lights back on.
“My mistress returns,” he said. “Or rather, I return to my mistress.”
I didn’t need to see the slight curling of the spirit’s lips to know my hold on him was tenuous. It was like a fragile string of silk, ready to snap at any moment. Bringing him here, through those worlds, had sapped more of me than I thought imaginable. I still held him, but for the first time in the years I’d enslaved him, the full realization of just how powerful-and dangerous-he was hit me.