Struggling to keep his emotions off his face, Tom asked, “What do you mean by ‘ruined’?” He did his best to sound only mildly interested.

“Oh, you know—messed up so's nobody would want 'em any more.”

“Are there a lot of those in Rivermarch?”

“Oh, no, just the one. I hear there used to be two, but the other one killed herself a couple of years ago.”

Demon shit. Tom was already braced for awful things in this conversation, so hopefully his disgust didn't show. He took a drink of his ale to buy time to steady his voice. Diagonally across from him, Diavla had picked up that something was wrong, but she didn't seem to have heard and understood enough to know what, yet. Tom thought frantically for a good way to approach the rest of the conversation. Don't look too eager, he warned himself.

He took another sip of ale, pretending to consider. “Huh. I'm sort of collecting elves. Is the one still around for sale?”

“Oh, you wouldn't want this one, Tom. Nothing like these beauties.”

“Well, I wouldn't pay full price, obviously, but I'm curious. I don't need all of them for sex. Where'd you find her?” Edge got a bit of a shifty look, and Tom got ahead of the issue. “Oh, hey, let me buy you another round. You're a useful guy to know, Edge.” Tom signaled to Debbie, who picked up on it right away. Ease off for a moment.

“Thanks, Tom. Nice to be appreciated.”

“You been doing this a long time?”

“What, helping friends? I been doing that for forever.”

“Fair enough. Some people are just naturals at it. You know a guy in Middleton, name of Levi?”

“I sure as shit do! That bastard's robbed me blind more times than I can count!”

“Ha! Sounds like him,” Tom agreed. It didn't take long to find people like Edge and Levi in a new town, and Tom made a point of it each time, just in case he needed their services. Another ale appeared in front of Edge, who started right in on it.

They chatted for a couple more minutes, during which two different people called out to Edge, who promised to be right over.

“Oh, hey, I don't mean to take up your time. If you've gotta go…”

“I probably should.” Edge finished the ale and stood. “Oh, yeah—the messed-up girl elf is at Madam Louisa's Delightful Den of...In It Quickly, or something like that. It's over on South Wharf, right by the fish market.”

“Are the girls any good?”

“She's still in business, ain't she? Make sure to have fun while you're there, all right? Tell 'em Edge sent you! Talk to you later, Tom.”

“Good night, Edge.” Tom kept the smile on his face for a few more moments, then looked down at his meal and frowned.

“Tom?” Diavla called.

He shook his head stiffly. “We eat.” He wasn't very hungry, and a few minutes later, turned down a chance at another bowl.

“Tom?” Orvan asked. “Food no good?”

Tom shook his head. “The food's fine, Orvan, sorry. Ah, food is very good.” Sensing his mood, the other elves didn't ask for seconds, either. Tom looked around at the others. “Can we get out of here? Home?”

The elves all nodded and stood. Gratefully, Tom left a fair tip again for Debbie, who seemed to have a sense for it and appeared before they could get clear of the table. “Thanks, big fella! Hey, you lose an elf?”

“You know, I keep losing count,” he said, trying to appear cheerful despite his mood.

“I told Ken he should put that mala-shit, or whatever it was Mr. Orvan used, in the stew next time. He's always welcome in our kitchen.”

“I'll let him know. Good night.” Tom turned to leave, but caught himself. “Oh! I almost forgot. Lily Rose will come by looking for me. Please give her dinner and three drinks on me, and tell her I'll be here tomorrow night to collect.” Tom laid out some more coin, because he didn't want to stretch Miranda's generosity.

“Will do. Thank you!” Debbie scooped up the coin and darted off to help another customer.

Varga smiled at him. “Tom? Coins I have? Five silver?” She looked as if she wanted to find a gaming table or something.

“Actually, Varga, I need your help with something first, please.”

“Saa…?”

“Yes, but no now. Please we go.” Varga's smile faded as she looked at his face. She nodded.

Tom led the group across the street. Once away from the tavern, he beckoned them all closer and lowered his voice.

“Diavla, are any stores still open? Um, buy things now?”

“Yes, one place. Soon no.” Diavla looked puzzled.

Tom pulled out a half-gold piece and handed it to her. “Get all things, sick.” Everyone stiffened.

“Person sick?” Diavla asked.

“Elf sick. Maybe. Varga and I go, see. Orvan, you and Diavla go get things.”

“We go to temple?” Varga asked.

“No tonight.”

Diavla nodded.“Orvan and I go.”

“See Vinder Hall, get and one room. Uh…we have three room. Get. We have four room.”

“I understand, Tom. We do.”

“Good. Thank you, Diavla. Thank you, Orvan. Varga, we go now.”

“Where we go?”

“South Wharf.”

Tom didn't get lost easily, but after a couple of minutes of walking between tall buildings, he muttered, “Where's the cursed river?”

“River?”

“River.”

Varga looked at him, then closed her eyes for a moment. “The river is...” She turned and pointed with both hands, then swept them past her on either side. That was probably the direction the water was flowing. Tom thought about how the valley was shaped.

So that would mean…Tom turned and looked at the streets. “This way. Thank you, Varga.” After a minute, the road started sloping downwards.

“How water you see?” he asked after a few moments.

Varga shrugged. “How water you no see?”

He realized that he was hurrying, and made himself slow down. Varga was keeping up with him without a problem, but after years, another five minutes wouldn't make much difference, and he had to be ready to act when he arrived. When they finally reached the wharf, Tom chewed his lip a moment, thinking.

“Tom?”

“I think.” He looked around for a few more moments. “Now. Varga, I go. You go.” He held his hands out to indicate her following him at a short distance. “I see Louisa's Delightful Den.” Even the name felt sour on his lips. “Out you wait. When out I come, me you come. Understand?”

“No, but I will do.” Tom turned to go. “Tom!” He looked back. “Elf hurt?”

“Yes. I think. Years. I go, I buy. She is scared, you help. Understand?”

It was hard to see Varga's expression in the flickering lights of lanterns and candles. “I understand. Go. I go (something).”

Tom nodded, then took a few deep breaths. Get into character, he told himself. I'm out for a good time. He started wandering up the wharf, looking at the different buildings, hoping it would be obvious which one was Louisa's. It wasn't, at least to him.

Finally, he asked a bored-looking guard watching over a ship. “You passed it, pal. Big red door, four or five doors back.”

“Thanks. Have a good one.”

“Won't be as good as yours will!”

Tom walked back the way he came, counting buildings. When he saw one with a big red door, he also saw Varga across the way from it, watching him with raised eyebrows. Tom looked up and down the wharf for a moment, then stared at the door, thinking hard.

How do I want to play this? If I act like I care about her, they'll charge me some ridiculous number of gold coins. I need to be interested, but reluctant. If I look rich, they'll try to soak me. Maybe I'm interested until I see her, then disappointed, but somewhat willing to buy anyway?

Maybe a scholar? Would a mage have need of an elf, regardless of her condition? Oh, yuck, maybe not.

All right. Not eager. Not surprised either. Pragmatic. I have other options. Improvise based on her condition. Here we go.

Tom opened the door and stepped into a foyer. There was a small desk, and a blonde woman behind it. She was pretty enough, and her clothing was revealing, but Tom was braced for that. He took a deep breath.

“Good evening. Is this Madam Louisa's?”

“It is, good sir. Welcome. You can leave your cloak and boots here, if you prefer.”

“Thank you, but I won't be staying long. Is it through here?” Of course it was; the double doors painted red were the only other exit from the room.

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.” Tom did stop to scrape his boots, but he had no intention of entering this place without the ability to leave instantly. Then he pushed open one of the double doors and stepped inside.

A plush parlor, with no windows, one service door in the back right corner, and a split staircase starting in the middle of the room. There were three couches, and on each was a barely dressed young woman, all of them even sexier than the poor greeting girl out front. Normally, Tom would be overwhelmed by his hunger for them.

The blond wore a lacy blue shift and nothing else; her skin was creamy white, and her lips were painted bright red. She smiled enticingly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. The brunette in the middle wore a slinky black dress that was scandalously tight, and it had a lot to be tight over. She strained the fabric in all the right places, and her smile was a bit warmer than the blonde's.

The redhead wore a green shift. Her hair was done up in a pile over her head. When Tom's eyes fell on her, she pulled a pin out of her hair and it fell to both sides, a calculated, enticing display.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

They all called out to him with genuine enthusiasm and fake arousal. He spared them each a quick look, then turned around.

Wow.

It was obviously Madam Louisa herself. There were crow's feet near her eyes, a wrinkle here and there, but she looked like a fine and sexy woman. Her breasts sagged a bit but still appeared large and full. Her waist was trim and her legs were lovely. The most striking thing about her, at least to Tom's first look, was what she was wearing.

Tom had never before seen an outfit made of spaced straps of black leather, revealing areas of white flesh in between in an eye-catching contrast. Black string seemed to hold the outfit together. The effect on Tom's blood was instant. He wanted nothing more than to cut those strings and pull her clothing off of her.

But then his eyes traveled up to her face. A dazzling smile under cold, cruel eyes. Those eyes quenched much of his ardor, for the moment.

“Welcome, John,” Madam Louisa purred, her voice sending a shiver down his spine. “Do you see anything you like?”

“Very much so,” he answered, thinking of the clothing but not the women. He wanted to see Diavla in a red slinky dress now, and if Sheema were to wear a black leather outfit like Madam Louisa's…Tom's thoughts ran off the road, and he had to push the image out of his head for the moment.

“You can have any of these three lovelies for thirty silver. Or, if you like what you see here you can take me upstairs for fifty silver.” She ran her hand down her cleavage as she spoke, and it was truly magnificent cleavage, if you could ignore the owner's soul.

“I had something specific in mind. An elf.”

“Ah. Well, Heather here,” she pointed at the brunette, “has these ears she can put on, and she'll be happy to be your elf. She even speaks a little Elvish.”

“Hello, (something),” Heather purred.

“Hello,” Tom answered. “I'm sure you're very talented, but I was interested in an actual elf. I heard that you have one here.”

Madam Louisa lost her smile. “I'm afraid she isn't available any longer.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“A danger of our vocation, sadly. She has the red pains.”

Tom winced in sympathy. “That's too bad, then. Can I still see her and speak with her?”

“Seeing her is unfortunately out of the question. A John…disfigured her. You wouldn't want to see her.”

“I …understand.” Tom chewed that over. “Can she talk, at least?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Then I would like to rent her. For conversation.” Tom waved a hand at the girls. “You say that these lovely sexy ladies are available for thirty silver. If the elf is not lovely, and not available for sex, I would expect to be charged much less. Say, five silver.”

“Five silver, just to talk with her?”

“In private.”

Madam Louisa's mouth opened, then closed. She took a breath. “I would like payment in advance, please.”

“As you say.” He pulled out five silvers, and handed them to the madam.

“Heather,” Madam Louisa called, “please help Eubexa clean up and bring her to the Blue Room. Leave the light low.”

“But Madam—” Heather actually looked distressed.

“It's what the John wants and has paid for.” Louisa's voice was soft, but had iron in it.

Heather's shoulders slumped. “Yes, Madam.” She uncoiled herself from her deliberate lounging position and walked up the central staircase, then turned left.

“It will be a few minutes,” the madam told Tom.

He nodded. “Understood.”

“Meanwhile, please feel free to talk with the girls. They're very friendly.”

I'll bet. Tom schooled his face to conform to his act. Taking the plunge, he stepped over to the blonde. “That's a lovely little thing you're wearing. The color suits you.”

“Why, thank you,” the blond purred. She used her arms at her sides to press her breasts together so that they bulged a bit above the fabric. “It's nice and slippery, too.”

Tom swallowed. “What's it made out of?”

“Silk…” she ran one hand down her side, “…and lace.” With her other hand, she traced some of the lacy pattern wrapping around her breasts. “Would you like to feel it?” she asked, with pretend innocence.

She's like a fantasy, but it's all pretend. Pretend can be fun…but this isn't how I want to spend my coin. Besides, Diavla is sexier than this girl. No offense, but you're just a pale imitation, miss.

Aloud, he answered, “I would…but perhaps another time. Are you here every night?”

“Every night except Fournight.”

“I'll remember that,” Tom told her with a smile. At least it's fine for me to ogle her.

He was spared the need to make small talk with the redhead when a man came in through the double doors and headed right for her. “Hiya, Ruby! I got paid!”

“That's great, John! Welcome back! Madam, is the Red Room all right?”

“Yes, it is. Have fun, you two!” Madam Louisa called, as the two of them hurried up the stairs.

Needing to pass some more time, Tom tried to get some use out of the opportunity. “Madam Louisa, I must admit, your body is magnificent.”

“Why, thank you, John!” The madam's smile got a trifle more genuine.

“And that outfit you're wearing definitely heats my blood. I don't know what it is about it, but seeing that on you gives me a strong urge to rip it off. Where did you get such a thing?”

“Oh, I had this custom-made by a leatherworker in town.”

“Gods of lust must have blessed the worker.”

“I often have a lot of fun while wearing it…and while removing it.” Tom's gaze narrowed to the dark valley between her two mountains. He really, really wanted to touch her, and feel the outfit and her in it. “Maybe,” Louisa continued, “you could forget about Eubexa and come explore this together with me?”

That helped cool Tom's heat. Right. He swallowed and forced his gaze away. “Madam, you are spectacularly sexy. I am very tempted, and I might well come back, but at the moment, I want to speak with your elf.”

“Are you sure?” Madam Louisa moved closer and closer. “You don't have to wait. I'm right here…right now…”

“John,” Heather called from the stairs, “she is ready for you.”

Saved, Tom thought. “Please, excuse me.” He nodded to Madam Louisa and started up the stairs.

“Right this way.” Heather led him down the upstairs hall to a room with a bright blue door. “She's in here.”

As Tom reached for the door handle, she blurted quietly, “Please be kind to her.”

“I will,” he said equally quietly, then opened the door and stepped inside.

The light was low, as instructed. A large bed filled the center of the room. On it lay a small figure. The person wore a gray veil completely obscuring her face and neck. She was also dressed head to toe in light fabric, even to wearing gloves and stockings. None of her skin was exposed.

Tom closed the door behind him. “Hello. Did they say your name is …Eubexa?”

“Yes, it is. Hello, John. What can I do for you?”

“Do you speak Elvish fluently?”

The figure on the bed flinched, and tensed. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. I speak small Elvish. Are you fluent in Western?”

“Yes sir, completely fluent.”

“Good. You want go no here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I buy you. We go.”

“Where?”

“Salathin.”

The elf did not respond. Tom gave her a few moments, then added, “No now. Maybe ten and ten weeks. Is big go.”

More silence. Then, very softly, Eubexa said, “Why?”

“I talk elves. I am friend. I can help. Then I help. I have four elves. You are five. We all go Salathin.” Instinct made him cautious about what he revealed, so he didn't mention the other elves hiding in the forest.

“Why?” the woman repeated, her voice cracking. “I am broken. (Something. Something.)”

“Broken, yes. What is (something)?”

Eubexa seemed to shift her head just a bit, probably to look at him better. “Useless. Diseased.”

“I understand. You are broken. You are no useless. You speak Elvish. You speak Western. I need. You translate.”

That got a reaction, just for a moment, as she shifted position slightly. There was a short pause before she answered, sounding despondent. “I am not well. I cannot do it.”

“Not with strangers. Not in public. Just between me and the other elves. You want go? I give food, I give clothes. You would be a great help.”

Eubexa was silent for a long time. Finally, quietly, she said, “Yes. I want to go with you.”

“I will buy you. You have things, get.”

A bitter laugh escaped Eubexa. “No. I have nothing.”

“Soon, more good.” Tom got up and opened the door. Heather was waiting, looking nervous. “Get her ready to leave,” he told her quietly. Heather looked alarmed. Tom eyed her a moment. “Were you kind to her?”

The young courtesan got a distressed and somewhat guilty expression. “I tried to be.”

Tom nodded, took a deep breath, and headed downstairs. Heather followed. Louisa watched him, curious. He paused as if debating with himself, then nodded. “I will buy her.”

Madam Louisa blinked. “What?”

“I will purchase Eubexa. I can get some use out of her. How much?”

“Well…” The madam looked stunned, something that probably didn't happen very often. “I purchased her for ten gold…”

It was a struggle to keep from snarling, Did she look like THAT?! Instead, Tom was silent for a moment, waiting for her to reconsider. She was watching him as well, and probably saw his anger, but hopefully thought it was simple annoyance at being cheated. Finally, he said, “her condition is absolutely terrible. Is she even going to live long? I'll give you a gold for her.”

“Sir, she's…” Louisa's expression hardened. “Five gold.”

“Keep going. One and a half.”

“Four and a half.”

“You're not even getting three gold for that. I do have another option, if necessary. Two gold.”

“Four gold.”

“Don't waste my time. She's barely acceptable for my purposes, as it is. My final offer is two and a half gold. Either accept it, or not.” Tom pulled out two gold and a half gold coin and showed them to her.

The madam crossed her arms. “Two and a half gold, and no complaints or trouble later from you, of any kind.”

You don't want me bringing the guard down on your head for her poor condition. But if I refuse your requirement, you'll know I mean trouble. “We have a deal.”

“Heather, bring Eubexa. She is leaving with this gentleman.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Madam Louisa excused herself to retrieve the slave token. Tom tried to focus on logistics. They have rented a room for her. I know she's not Sheema, but Diavla will do what she can for her. Food, clothes, and I'll have to see what else she needs.

Fortunately, the blonde seemed to have figured out that Tom wasn't in the mood to pay for her charms and let him be. He wondered what was taking Eubexa so long, if she had nothing to pack. He got his answer when Heather and Eubexa appeared at the top of the stairs, moving slowly. Eubexa gripped the railing in one gloved hand, and Heather's hand in the other. It took a while for them to get to the bottom. No cloak. No boots, even. Madam Louisa returned.

Then Eubexa straightened, let go of Heather, and shuffled slowly forward on her own two feet as if every movement was painful. Tom heaved a sigh for effect, and with a show of reluctance, handed the coins to the madam, receiving the slave token in exchange. Eubexa approached them and faced Louisa. Then she reached up. Tom's eyes widened and he had just a moment to school his expression before she lifted her veil.

Her face was a ruin of scars and blotches. Red, black, gray, and white streaks and bulging ridged scars criss-crossed her face. The piercing gaze of her bright blue eyes made a dramatic contrast—it was like seeing two sapphires floating in mud and ashes. “Madam Louisa,” Eubexa said coldly, “I will never forget my treatment here.” She turned, giving everyone a good look. Finally, she faced Tom, and he saw fear in her eyes.

He gave her a slow nod of approval. “Good say,” he told her in Elvish, and some of the fear seemed to fade. She carefully replaced her veil and smoothed it.

“Time to go.” He pulled off his blue cloak and held it out to her, and she recoiled slightly.

“Master, I am sick. Any clothes I touch cannot ever be worn by others.”

Tom digested that a moment. “Then this is now your cloak.” He stepped behind her and draped it carefully over her shoulders; she pulled it tight around her. He leaned closer. “May I carry you?” he whispered.

“Please.”

Tom scooped her up in his arms, a small bundle wrapped in his cloak. She weighed next to nothing. He spared Heather a small nod of thanks as she got the door, and he swept out of the brothel. The blonde at the entry desk gave a gasp of surprise, but said nothing as Tom carried Eubexa out onto the street.

Varga hurried across to meet them. “Is this…?”

Eubexa shouted something at Varga sharply. Whatever she said stopped Varga before she touched her.

“Let's go,” Tom grumbled, feeling the cold a little bit without his cloak.

Varga asked a question. Eubexa answered with another question. Varga lost some of her tension. “Tom Walker is a good man. You'll see.”

Tom expected trouble with the evening crowds as he carried her, but instead people took one look at his face and got out of his way. It was five or ten minutes before they reached Vinder Hall's building. The little person himself was at the entrance.

“Is this the new tenant?” he asked.

Tom actually found it almost effortless to crouch while holding the frail elf. “Yes. Vinder Hall, this is Eubexa…um…”

“Eubexa Corvolli. I apologize for not offering my hand.”

“A pleasure,” Hall said. He nodded politely. He looked at Tom and added, “I've given the keys to your man Orvan. I'll get the door for you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hall.” Tom straightened up. “Ah, Eubexa…it's on the fourth floor. Do you need the necessary?”

“Not now, thank you. Shall I climb…?”

“You just rest for now.” Tom carefully navigated the stairs by a light Hall held for him. When he reached the fourth floor, the others were waiting. Their four doors were all open, spilling lantern light into the hall.

“Here, Tom,” Diavla called.

He followed the voice into the new room. Diavla was waiting with the physicker supplies. Tom laid Eubexa down on the bed as gently as he could. “Everyone, this is Eubexa Corvolli.”

“Thank you, Master,” Eubexa said as he stepped back. “Please wash yourself with harsh soap at once, Master. I am unclean.”

“I will,” he told her.

“Here,” Diavla called, pointing him at a few buckets of water with towels and soap laid out.

To reassure Eubexa, Tom carefully and thoroughly washed right there, even though he hadn't touched anything but his own cloak.

The others started talking in Elvish, but Tom tuned it out. It was hard to keep his feelings bottled up. When he finished washing, he backed up slowly until he was in the hall. Diavla left Varga and Eubexa talking, and walked up to him.

“Tom.” That one word seemed to carry so much meaning. Part of it was concern for him. She was right to be concerned.

“Diavla, please take over here.”

He went into his room, shut the door, and took a deep, shuddering breath. He removed his belt, pulled out the gold coins, and inserted Eubexa's token with the others, replacing the coins and putting his belt back on carefully. He noticed that Eubexa's slave token had left a red mark in his palm.

Tom came out of his room. Diavla was in the process of examining Eubexa. Varga was a few steps back, so he turned to her. “Varga, can I borrow your cloak? I need some air.”

“…cloak? Yes, Tom.” It was only a couple of moments before she handed it to him.

“Thank you, Varga.” He turned to leave.

“Tom? Collar, please?”

Tom stopped, and swallowed a curse, furious with himself. “Yes, of course. Be careful nobody sees you.”

He showed Varga his hidden belt pocket, and she looked very relieved. He fished out their tokens, and removed Varga's collar. Varga hugged him at once, then whispered in his ear. “Thank you, Tom Walker. You are a good man. I see (something) Diavla (something something) you.” She pulled back, and cupped his cheek in one palm for a moment, but she didn't try to kiss him.

Tom left the other tokens on the table. “You get collars, please?”

Varga frowned, seeing something in his expression, then nodded and scooped the tokens up carefully. Tom stood still and did his best to think about nothing. A couple of minutes later, she returned with two more collars, and a third wrapped in a piece of fabric. With great care, Tom returned the precious tokens to their hiding place.

“Thank you, Varga,” he said quietly. He turned and walked the length of the hall and down the stairs in the dark, out and around to the alley, and once no one could see him, he got violently sick.