"What do you mean by bait?" Even though I did ask, the answer I feared was not lost on me.

"I think you know, Grey. You're a smart one," Rayden said, as serious as Marcus, obviously hinting for me to say out loud what she was thinking.

"Y-you want to lure the mind mages out . . . by using me."

"As bad as it sounds, I see this as a golden opportunity to clean house. And before you start barking at me, think about it. Sure, it's dangerous, but would you rather live in a place where every shadow can hide monsters coming for your throat or where you don't have to worry about walking down a street?"

"The latter." Obviously. I wanted to feel safe, to not have to constantly look over my shoulder, to let my harrowing past be the past. "B-but couldn't you find them and . . . and get rid of them, you know, without me?"

She smirked, while Marcus gave me a sad smile. "Though it doesn't seem that way right now, that's what we've been trying to do the whole time we've been here, lass. However, those mind-fuckers are sly and spineless. You'll see a horde of their thralls before you see them. I don't like it any more than you do, but . . . San is right. This is a unique opportunity."

"It is. They are interested in getting you. So interested, in fact, that they've poked their heads out of their hidey holes in a way they haven't in years. I don't want to force you into anything, Grey. But if you help me, I will do everything in my power to help you."

'Shit!' The hairs on the back of my neck prickled at her words. Not in a bad way, though. The woman was dead serious.

'Could she get me home, though? No, I don't think so.'

Nor was I naive to think that I could survive in this world without help. Not the way I was right now, a Slave, weak, half-beast gal.

"Couldn't you . . . I don't know . . . ?"

"What? Protect you? Sorry, Grey, I don't have enough men to babysit your ass twenty-four hours a day just for the sake of it."

"Th-then let me work here." I needed a job anyway.

"You want to be a city guard?" There was no contempt in her voice, merely a sense of surprise.

"Not exactly a city guard, more like . . . I don't know, cleaning lady. But if that's what it takes - I know I'm weak, but I'll train."

"I’d rather have you be driven by determination than desperation."

"Desperation can make you do many things, but getting far is not one of those," Marcus chimed in before Rayden could say more. "Besides, do you really want to spend the rest of your life locked behind these walls, lass? The barracks are nothing glamorous. It gets boring here pretty fast, trust me. The fun is out there. Quite often, right across the street at the Drunken Filly."

"I know," I grumbled back, not entirely sure where he was going with it. I mean, what else could I do?

"Then become stronger. So strong that others will think twice about trying anything on you. Look at San."

"D-didn't I say I was going to train?"

"You want to train so you can stay here," Sanysia Rayden pointed out.

"Yeah, is that . . . wrong?"

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"You should train to be able to stay out there."

Becoming strong enough to not have to constantly look over my shoulder? To not have to be afraid of every side alley I pass, every shadow I step over, even my own? To not have to tremble in dread of everyone I come across trying to put a collar around my neck?

'That sounded good - really, really good. Too good, actually.'

"Is there a catch?"

"Pardon?" Rayden asked, confused by my question, and rightly so.

"O-oh, I s-said it out loud? S-sorry."

"Well, maybe it's a good thing you did. Better to voice your doubts now than too late, Grey. So?"

"Well . . . this is gonna sound stupid, but will my problems really go away if I become strong?"

Rayden smirked. "Ah, you wonder if being strong is a miracle cure for happiness. I hate to break it to you, but it's not. That's just something ordinary people think, a dream. Sure, it has its merits, but it won't get rid you of your enemies or make you rich. That's something you have to do yourself."

In other words, everyone was the maker of their own happiness. But the question was how deep a pool of blood I had to wade through to get mine. How many lives have I had to extinguish to find my peace?

"I don't want to have to kill anyone else."

Rayden nodded at my whisper, the corners of her mouth lifting in a faint smile. "And you shouldn't want to. If you did, I'd think twice about giving you a helping hand in training."

Wasn't killing a way to become stronger, though?

'Dumbass! Of course not, Korra.'

They said they were both in the war, but I couldn't imagine the Chief Healer getting where he is by killing his patients. And I didn't get my 97 sigils by killing my fellow freaks, either. I got them by fulfilling that deranged asshole's fantasy, by being true to my array.

'Shit. Is that how it works?'

Healers heal, Warriors fight, Slaves . . . slave? If so, I was screwed. There was no way I was going to be a slave again, let alone willingly accept a new master.

"It's not that you can't become strong on your own," the Chief Healer, Marcus, said after seeing me downcast. "Having someone to guide you is a huge help, though. My own experience. Lord Wigram, the Imperial Chief Healer, has been a great mentor to me. Of course, it's not all roses and dandies. Being under the wing of someone strong has its drawbacks, and so does being strong. It puts some expectations on your shoulders."

"What expectations?"

'Will I then be forced to serve the Empire or something?'

"I can't tell you how many times people have come to me to regrow their severed hand, to make them fertile, to infuse vigor into their grandfather. Not exactly impossible, but you get the gist of it, right?"

Did I? Of course I did. I used to be one of those people begging doctors to do the impossible and save my mom.

"S-sorry," I whispered under my breath, looking at Rayden, wondering what people could possibly expect of her.

"I have to say, it's pretty refreshing to talk to someone who is so easy to read, but don't tell me you really have no idea, Grey. You begged for it just a few moments ago."

"To . . . " I said, stopping short as a shame hit me. " . . . to protect me."

"Yes. People expect me to protect them from any beast that should come, that I'm gonna make the city safe, but you've seen for yourself that I and my men can't always be there."

'Yeah, tasted it first hand.'

Then they didn't want me to get strong? Because, if anything, it sounded more like an attempt to talk me out of it.

'No. That wasn't it.'

They wanted me to see what it took to be strong, so I wouldn't pursue something I would regret later. Or at least that was what I took from it; that being strong came with a price. Actually, when I thought about it and remembered Ria's expression when she first saw me, her eagerness to know if I was a Wierin, a mythical creature, it wasn't hard to imagine another Terr'den flocking to me with the same expectation.

"I see," I breathed, meaning it.

"Good." Rayden smiled, satisfied, her eyes locking with mine. "So, do you still want to stay holed up here in the barracks for the rest of your life or . . . you know . . . ?"

" . . . to find your place out there?" Marcus, the Chief Healer, finished instead of her.

To find a place for myself in this world?

'No! No, that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to find my way back home.'

And that would be hard for me to do if I was shivering in fear in a corner somewhere, whether here or in the Imperial City.

"Okay," I said after taking a deep breath and finding my resolve. "What would this bait thing entail?