Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 38865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
He said it would be fifteen minutes, but it is just a blur. It seems both longer and shorter than that. Like an eternity, and the blink of an eye. I hope he’s getting what he needs out of this, that this sacrifice is necessary to sate his need for a pound of flesh.
I find my feet starting to feel heavy. My breath starts to become more shallow. I work to make it deeper, but there is a vehemence about this crowd that makes it almost impossible. I am among enemies, and there is not an ally to be found. Nobody is coming to save me. The Authority fired on us with the intention of destroying the ship. They wanted me dead.
I thought I was going from friendly territory to enemy space, but it appears that I have been in enemy territory all along. I must have been betrayed. Sithren’s clutches do not go that deep into Authority territory. If they did, we would have been long ago overrun. Someone threw me to the wolf at the last possible moment before I got to enjoy the life they promised I’d have after all the terrible things I did for them.
The crowd rattles and hisses. The old sections of my brain, the ones telling me to fear anything with scales and a forked tongue, are going absolutely mad. It would be easy to fall prey to the instinct to stop. My animal brain tells me that these creatures are drawn to my warmth and my movement. My higher mind tells me they are far more sophisticated and dangerous than the simple lizards my hindbrain mistakes them for.
My nakedness is not helping. All the little pores of my skin, the little hairs that would usually be kept away from breezes and stares alike are exposed, and they are ready to do the job nature made them for. They sense everything. Every breeze. Every brush when I get too close to one barrier or another.
BLA BLAAAAAAHMMM!
A sudden singing of a deep sonorous musical instrument shocks me. Holy fuck, they are playing a triumphant medley over my walk of shame. The pageantry of this moment is not organic. It has been planned to prove a point — and not just to me. I wonder what political enemies are being silenced, what threats deferred by this appearance of mine.
The crowd’s cheers and cries grow louder with the music. Then drums begin to beat, and the streets erupt into dance. Cloth streamers in bright colors arc through the skies, while above me trained reptilian birds swoop back and forth, like domesticated dinosaurs doing the will of the Dinavri.
I’m almost honored. It is starting to feel like a celebration. I realize it is at my expense, but the Authority certainly never laid on anything like this for me. Honored, and absolutely terrified. I know for certain that this entire assembly will be filmed and no doubt shared across both Dinavri and Authority space. My humiliation is not only for Sithren’s benefit. It is to my own ongoing detriment. Even if I were to return to Authority space it would be in shame and disgrace.
Suddenly, the world goes quiet. We are indoors, surrounded by mosaic prints and artistry of the likes few in the Authority have ever seen. The Dinavri are consummate artists in every sense of the word. It’s not enough to distract me from my confusion, misery, and fear, but it is a lovely backdrop to it.
Sithren lifts my chin with a finger, his golden slitted eyes searching mine with great interest.
“You were much better behaved than I expected,” he says. “You may yet prove to be a good addition to my harem.”
I am trembling with the effort of managing my fear. I know I am capable of withstanding almost anything, but I think my retirement, early as it was, threw me out of the spy mindset. I got comfortable. I slept in real beds. I at meals at regular times. I took fucking pregnancy vitamins. I started to soften up, and now I am remembering just how hard I used to be.
“You’re cold,” he says, entirely misinterpreting my shaking for shivering. Maybe I am also cold. I don't know. I can't feel anything. I’m withdrawing. Going inward is a way to protect these freshly exposed soft parts of me from the situation I find myself in.
He does not remove the leash. Instead, he continues to use it to lead me through into the interior of his home. It goes without saying that he is rich and powerful. Every part of the house reflects his status. There are a great deal of carved serpents winding their way around frames and pillars, creating an air of majesty and awe.
“This is my bedchamber,” Sithren says. “This is where I mate my brides.”