Diavla stared at Tom's retreating figure until he had disappeared from view. He's so young. He's so mature and skilled in some ways, but just now…he's like a little boy who looks betrayed that people were mean. Tom is very strong of character, but just now he looked…weak. Fragile.

She returned to Eubexa's side, and continued asking questions about her health. The matter-of-fact replies were chilling, as the woman described what she had been through. Diavla struggled not to react to the ruin of Eubexa's face, and after a moment, it got easier.

Varga asked the new elf for her story. Fortunately, the scarring did not seem to have affected her speech at all. That, and her eyes, were almost the only things working right in the poor woman's body. I wish Sheema were here, Diavla thought for the tenth time in as many minutes. Eubexa took a few sips of water and cleared her throat, then began her tale.

“My name is Eubexa Corvolli. I'm from Foral province in the West Wilds. I was taken by slavers nine years ago. I spent two years in the Eastern Empire, one in the Red Tors Kingdom, and the past six in Baria, here in Rivermarch.

“At first, I was one of the lucky ones. I used to be pretty. A lot of people said so, back home. So, I got snapped up by an Eastern noble named Richmar at my auction, and spent two years in his private court. It really wasn't so bad.

“Then, Richmar ran up too much of a gambling debt, and I was handed over as partial payment, with instructions to make my new owner ‘very happy’—probably in hopes of canceling more of the debt. I actually did my best; Richmar was kind of an idiot, but he was sweet sometimes. My new owner lost interest in me pretty quickly, though, and I was packed off for auction in Baria, where I did not sell for as much gold as hoped. The high bid was from Madam Louisa's Delightful Den of Iniquity.” Her voice was bitter as she said the name.

“It was a bad life for a while, but not as bad as it was going to get later. I got teamed up with this girl Belva Doralla, who got traded from a bordello in Goldenbough. We got billed as a couple of sisters, for the guys who enjoy that sort of thing. We didn't look a thing alike of course, but humans can't tell the difference.

“Then, I caught the red pains disease, and couldn't work with Johns any more—that's what they call them here. Madam Louisa claimed that human Healers wouldn't be able to help an elf. Really, she just didn't want to deal with the expense. Most human Healers aren't very competent, so it would have cost more than I'm worth to cure me.

“So, I was only interesting as a prop, or as…well, anyway. I still had my uses to certain Johns. As I got sicker things got worse, and then they got a lot worse, and then one day, one angry bastard did this to me and I couldn't work at all after that.” Eubexa waved one hand vaguely at her face.

“Then, they put me to doing the house chores—at least the parts I can do, since with my broken foot I can't even haul water. We had a careful system set up so that I couldn't get anyone else sick. And I've just gotten older and sicker for years, and I heard Madam Louisa talking about options for getting rid of me, saying I wasn't really worth my upkeep any more. She was lying—I know I still do enough work for that—and she probably said it deliberately where I could hear to get me to work harder. I'm ashamed to say that it worked.”

“What happened to Belva?” Diavla asked.

“She killed herself two years ago.” Diavla felt a bit sick when Eubexa simply shrugged. “She was always weak. Didn't have it nearly as bad as I did. But then, maybe she took the smart way out. I wonder, sometimes.”

“Well, things will be better now,” Varga told her.

Eubexa stared at her for a few heartbeats. “You don't really expect me to believe that, do you?”

“Not yet,” Diavla answered, after only a moment's hesitation. “But let me tell you our story—we were dramatically, dramatically luckier than you. Then you can decide what you want to believe.”

“Oh, wait, are you hungry?” Varga broke in before Diavla got started.

“Always. Can I have some food?”

“Of course. We probably can bring you a serving of stew from The Floating Duck across the street. We've also got some cheese and hard bread, a little holias bread, a piece of fruit the humans call an apple, and a couple of other things.”

Eubexa snorted. “Yeah, you're having fun with the new girl. Why don't you offer me dessert from Sallie's Sweets on South Hill, while you're at it?”

Diavla and Varga looked at each other. “Do you have any cookies left?” Varga asked.

“You just don't want to cut into the brown cake yet.”

“It's true, I was saving it. Dee, did you actually eat all of the cookies in that bag?”

“I left…two…” Diavla protested feebly.

“Brown cake or beet cookies?” Varga asked Eubexa. “You pick.”

“Now you're just being cruel.” It was hard to read her expressions, but the cold in her tone was obvious.

Diavla could see the hurt and offense on Varga's face, and cut her off before she could reply. “Fine, I'll give her one of my cookies to start.” She rummaged in her pack and pulled out a cookie, offering it to the sick elf. There was a pause.

“What, is it poisoned or something?”

“Oh, for—” Diavla gripped the cookie and snapped it in half. “Left or right, choose.”

“Left.”

Diavla held her right hand out offering the sweet while she took a bite of the other half. It was hard to savor it properly, but she did her best. “I love these things,” she murmured after swallowing.

Slowly, as if expecting it to be snatched away at the last moment, Eubexa reached out with one gloved hand and took the uneaten half of the cookie. Diavla waited while she took a bite, watching her reaction. She chewed slowly, then swallowed. Her throat clenched.

Eubexa's eyes filled with tears. She tried to cry silently, but in moments, her body was wracked with sobs and she began to wail with a sound that threatened to break Diavla's heart. The women cried with her as she howled her anguish, on and on, until a neighbor complained through his closed door and Orvan cursed him out in two languages.

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Diavla held the sick elf over her protests, declaring, “I'll wash, I'll wash! Later!” Is this the first hug she has gotten in years? It certainly seemed like it.

Eubexa screamed and ranted, at one point lashing out at her rescuers: “Why didn't you help me sooner?!”

Not offended, and not accusing, Diavla answered quietly, “Someone should have. They should have.” She sighed. “Two weeks ago, we were still in a cage ourselves. We got to town two days ago, and Tom only found out you existed a couple of hours ago. He basically dropped everything and headed right out to rescue you the minute he heard.”

Eubexa stared at her, finally pausing in her crying.

Diavla passed her a water skin, and gave her a sad smile. “Would you like to hear a happier tale? One that you will join and share with us?”

Eubexa paused for several seconds, then whispered, “yes.” Diavla sat up on the bed, holding the new elf gently, and began.

“Well, we all come from Kilder Vald, a fishing village in Velsunona…”

∘ ⛥ ⛯ ⛥ ∘

Later, after Eubexa had cried herself to sleep, Diavla spoke softly with Varga as she cleaned herself fastidiously. “I hope she gets a lot of rest. It's been a happy shock, but still a big one for her. She'll probably have trouble trusting us for a long while yet, so we'll have to be patient with her.”

“Can you do anything for her?”

Diavla sighed. “Not really. I can help her be clean, but there's a lot wrong with her. She needs a Healer.” For just a moment, a vision of fire flashed through Diavla's soul. She shook her head to dismiss the image. I'm getting tired.

“Can Sheema fix her?”

“Honestly, I don't know. She can certainly make it hurt less, and fix the minor things, but…I don't know if the red pains can be halted at this point. It's been advancing unchecked for a long time. If we don't do something, she'll probably be dead in a year or two. Most of the other problems, any good Healer can fix.”

“What about her face?”

Diavla shook her head. “I don't know that anyone could help her with that. I could be wrong—Sheema's the expert. But we should get a Healer to look at her, and the sooner the better.”

“Tom will probably insist on taking her in the morning. Bet you a silver he pays out of his own purse for it, too.”

“No bet.” Diavla smiled, just for a heartbeat.

“Dee…”

There was a serious tone to Varga's voice, and Diavla paused in her cleaning. “What is it?”

“It's Tom.”

“What about him?”

“He was almost running, when we first left to go to the brothel. He had to make himself slow down, even though she was there for years. Another day, another month wouldn't have made much difference to when we rescued her. But Tom couldn't wait.” The redhead seemed to struggle for the right words. “It was…I mean…it's just that he's young, right? If he were older he wouldn't care so much, be in such a hurry.”

“ ‘Be active in youth, before you forget how.’ ” It was an old, old saying. Every young elf looked with some amount of dread at the stubbornness and reluctance to change typical of their elders who had been around for a few centuries. Diavla looked at the ceiling a moment, imagining. “Although, I get the feeling that Tom will still be like this a few decades from now.”

“But, what about after a century—? Saa, I'm an idiot. He's not going to be around in a century.” Varga thumped her forehead lightly with her palm. Diavla felt a wave of melancholy herself at the thought. Then, she turned over what Varga was saying.

“So, he's likely to be this way for his entire life,” Diavla guessed. “What about it?”

Varga actually squirmed a little. “I guess…I'm starting to see why you fell for him.”

Diavla gave her a sympathetic, conspiratorial smile. “He's quite a catch, isn't he?”

Varga nodded, then grinned. “So are you.”

“Thanks.” Diavla checked that she looked clean, then took a breath. “Give me a minute, I'm going to do a spirit exercise and look for the sickness so I know I got it all off of me.”

“Sure. You should practice, Dee, if you're going to keep trying to call on the spirits. Gently,” Varga stressed. “Don't hurt yourself. I'll be across the hall.” She carefully got up and moved quietly out of Eubexa's room.

Diavla regarded Eubexa's sleeping form for a few moments, then closed her eyes and willed herself into a meditative state. It took a while, but eventually she found her soul's center of peace. Next, she sought to listen for the spirits. That took a lot longer. Minutes passed, before a ghostly impression reached her, like a single distant candle on a moonless night.

Gradually, she felt the nearby spirits more strongly. She listened for their natures. City spirits were often less common and an odd mix, compared to the countryside. Far fewer spirits of elements, more of Curiosity and Passion, for example. She focused her soul, and did her best to aim her request to spirits of Healing and Curiosity, and not Passion in particular, though she wasn't foolish enough to insult them. She gently focused her thoughts on the sickness in the room, and on her skin and clothes, and Eubexa.

HEALTHY?

She felt the spirits moving around, sniffing at her, her clothes, the room, and Eubexa. Over half of the spirits hovered over Eubexa, sending their tidings of woe. Next to none of them were spirits of Healing, and Diavla radiated gratitude at the few who deigned to answer her call.

Yes, she was clean. She had certainly expected that much, after all her scrubbing. She let her perception range over the cloth, noting a spot or two contaminated, and then the riot of echoes coming from poor Eubexa herself.

While I am meditating, I should do the spirit cleansing exercises, for my general health. At the thought, a wave of tiredness hit her.

I'll do it later.

This much was enough effort for one night.

Yawning, Diavla moved quietly out of Eubexa's room, taking one of the room keys with her. We should keep watch over her tonight. She'll need reassurance. Diavla asked Orvan to look in on the sickly elf occasionally, while she took a break.

She joined Varga in their dark room. For a minute, they just held each other in silence. Then her friend spoke.

“That could have been us.”

Diavla felt the weight of it. “I know.”

“I thought it was funny when Kervan turned courtesan on us, but…”

“He might have second thoughts once he sees Eubexa,” Diavla finished.

“I guess we shouldn't be surprised that he went. Kervan wants us both, and we've turned him down and made a lot of noise with each other in the wagon. It makes sense that he would jump at the chance to bed a human woman, especially for gold.”

“Kervan does love his coin,” Diavla agreed.

“I wonder when he'll get back?”

“No telling. They might keep him until morning. Get their coin's worth.”

“I hope Kervan lives up to their expectations. Do you suppose he's any good?”

“He knows enough to be careful with a virgin, at least.”

“Do you think they'll be disappointed? By, um…well, human males are bigger all around, right?”

Diavla thought about the glimpses she had had of Tom. “Well, Tom seems to be bigger than average…”

“So, you've seen him?” Varga pounced, amused.

“Overall, you rutter. No, I haven't gotten a good look…but if he's proportional…” Diavla rubbed her jaw absently.

“…He might have some nice equipment.”

“Mm. There's such a thing as too much, though.”

“I'd find a way to cope,” Varga opined, earning an elbow to the ribs.

There was quiet for a minute or two. Diavla considered their benefactor, or Master. She started to feel a bit warm and wiggly but tamped down the feeling with effort. Not the time, she told herself.

Varga broke the silence. “If anything happens to Tom…”

“I know.” Just the thought gave Diavla chills. “Speaking of, do you have any idea where he went?”

Varga sighed. “He probably went back to The Floating Duck to get drunk. Spirits know, I'm tempted.” Then her breath caught. “I hope he isn't an angry drunk.”

“He must have seen cruelty before, he was a town guard for a while. But seeing Eubexa really upset him. I think…he might be angry, but he won't be angry at us.”

“That's a fine line to walk,” Varga observed.

“Tom does a lot of that.”

“True.” Varga paused. “I think I'll go check on him.” She made as if to get up.

“You'll have to put a collar back on,” Diavla reminded her. “But…go ahead. I'll be your Mistress for tonight.”

“Spirits, woman, now I don't want to leave this bed.”

“No, no, you have a good idea. We should be very protective of Tom.” Diavla fended off her friend gently. “Go. But, don't stay out too late yourself unless you're watching over Tom, all right? I don't want to feel like I'm in a ghost story where everybody vanishes, one by one.”

“Fair.”

Varga lit a lantern and got herself together. Diavla helped her into a slave collar and clutched the token. “I'll guard it with my life,” she told her friend. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Varga sighed. “It's…still hard to put it on, but it's easier knowing that this thing is coming off again later. All right. See you soon, Dee.”

“See you soon.”