As soon as I left the Red Queen’s quarters, I was back on the ledge.

Voices and footsteps echoed from down below. They had to have walked the long way, the same way the original runner had. It was the only way I could explain that they were still in sight, even after I had spent minutes ransacking the office.

Fortuitous.

I peered over the ledge to watch them pass.

The Red Queen continued to berate the man, but it was only with half her attention, less than half. Her head was on a swivel, and her eyes almost seemed to pierce the gloom. As I was so far above them, and hidden in the shadows, I doubted she would see me, but it still left me nervous she would.

I took extra care to keep the ledge between me and her.

Her drunk companion on the other hand, well, I hardly gave a concern towards him.

Once they passed further down into the cavern, just out of sight, I twisted myself over the edge and began climbing down, not headfirst this time.

I trusted my Talent, and let my hands and feet land where they did, without questing or feeling out whatever holds they landed on. My Talent, this magic–it should not have worked–but it did.

It amazed me continually. I could learn to enjoy this.

About halfway down, I stubbed my toe. It was an outcropping of stone. A loose one, at that. The stone cracked and broke loose, falling and hitting the ground with a tremendous bang.

In the cavern, everything echoed.

I froze.

“Hear that?” the man asked.

“No,” the woman scoffed, with what I thought was mean sarcasm.

“Y’sure? Cuz–”

“-Of course I heard that!” the woman shouted. I heard a slap. “Go check it out.”

“Sure, but-”

“You know…” the woman led off, as though considering, “I need to replace Steph’s position by the back.”

“Gods’ dung!” the man swore. “I’m going, I’m going…” he trailed off, coming back my way, his hooded lantern bobbing in the dark and illuminating his path. If that light fell on me, and if he looked up… well, I had something for that.

“Illusion.” I covered myself with shadows and remained where I was.

The man, the drunk toady that he was, was looking back and forth as he walked, scanning the ground, likely he searched for whatever had made that noise, or an intruder hiding, on the ground. But I was not on the ground. And the rock that I had kicked loose looked no different than any other.

He never looked up.

Eventually, he gave up, and walked back to the Red Queen as he reported, “Can’t find nothing.”

“Maybe it’s the mess hall. They’re still rowdy back there… or it’s the alleged intruder. Stay sharp.”

“Yeah, sure.” They started walking again, but the man paused. “About Steph’s spot by the back chute… you weren’t serious, right?” he asked.

“Depends,” she said. “If this trip down here was a waste of my time or not.”

The extra menace carried through. I was left a bit curious about Steph, and this supposedly undesirable position. It seemed strange to use it as a threat, but the man seemed to take it seriously by the way he swallowed and stopped talking.

They continued further into the cavern, and I tailed after them, crouching, and keeping obstructions between me and them, particularly the sharp eyed woman. Whenever I had to cross an open space, I would cover myself in Illusion. I thought of crawling along the ceiling, but I doubted my physics defying climbing ability would allow that, and a mistake there would be troublesome.

Better to slink along than risking that.

As I thought that, my right arm burned once more. That burn had begun to feel good, less of an itch, and more of a scratch.

Stealth: 5/9 (+1)

We soon passed the pantry, where a woman was going through the stock, with a checklist. She was counting what they had, and comparing to what they should have. Awfully organized for bandits.

The Red Queen stopped, and called out to the ‘employee’ taking inventory. “How bad?” she asked.

“Eh? That you, Cap?” the woman asked, poking her head back out from the pantry. “It ain’t great, but ain’t the worst. They ransacked some, made a mess a bit, but we aren’t gonna starve. They took some liquor though. A lot of liquor.”

“Godslicking cunts!” the Red Queen swore, a surprising vehemence. “I should have kept it all in the safe. How bad?”

“They got the stuff from uisge too.”

“That was in there?” the Red Queen asked, a weak voice. “B-but why? That–” she stopped herself, schooled herself. Or so I thought.

“Uh… you alright there cap?”

I was suddenly highly aware of the bottles tucked away in my bag, and I worried that they might rattle. Also, it was good to finally know what it was that I would be drinking later.

The Red Queen’s face had started to turn red. And then she lashed out, punching a stone wall and leaving an indent–in the stone. She screamed, “godsloving, godslicking, dungshoving, burning-flaming-crownspit! Why in all the Firmament was that down here in the first place!” She paused, heaving for breath.

Both of her minions appeared perturbed.

The man and woman winced as their boss continued ranting, and the man went so far as to try patting the Red Queen on the shoulder. Surprisingly, she did not shrug him off like I thought she would.

After she ran out of steam, taking deep breaths, she said, “You get to spread the word,” she told the employee. The employee gave a pained wince, likely thinking of bearing the bad news to the rowdy mess hall. “And while you’re at it, let them know we have a potential intruder lurking. Everyone be on guard.”

“Aye, ma’am,” the employee said, before hanging the clipboard to the wall; she left, heading back up.

“Is the shocker charged, I wonder?” she asked the toady who remained.

“I-I believe so, Cap,” the toady stammered.

“Good. I need to vent a bit,” she said, leaving towards the prisoners’ cage.

The toady remained where he was standing, watching after her.

“Come!” she called over her shoulder.

He gulped but hurried after all the same.

“Relax,” she said, giving him a mean grin. “I won’t be using it on you.”

“Than–” he started to say, before she spoke over him.

“Probably,” she completed her thought. Her grin widened enough to show teeth.

He winced, but followed all the same.

I followed after and soon, we reached the pens. I paused just out of view, and the captain stopped at the gate. She kicked the gate, clanging it, loudly, so incredibly loudly. My ears twitched and my headache paid its complement.

“Wake up, louts!” the Captain shouted. “What’s this you got me down for?”

The enslaved human, the artificer apparently, coughed and spoke up.

“Apologies, ma’am!” the artificer said, bowing as far as his collar and leash allowed. “I thought it might be worth telling you that another animal tried making a deal with the kunny.”

The Red Queen scoffed, arms crossed, tapping her leather boots in a domineering fashion. Were she not such a horrible person, she might have been enticing. But as it was, she stared down her nose at the articer and left him squirming.

“You must be a fool for giving up this chance at escape,” she said. “Why?”

“Well… uh ma’am,” he hedged. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Do you want to be punished?” she asked with a complex tone, overlaid with a mixture of tones that would have left me on my toes and weak in the knees, at least if I were in the artificer’s position. “Now tell me, why.”

“I-I didn’t like my chances crossing the wastes.” He scuffled back and forth, refusing to look up at the Red Queen and meet her eyes.

“Really. Is that the only reason?” she asked. She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the cage and perhaps leering in. “Or did you hope to curry favor for your pathetic sack?”

She waited, staring him down.

He cleared his throat. “And that,” he said.

“So you’ve already lied to me,” she said. The artificer groaned under his breath, and the woman kept speaking over him, keeping him from protesting, which it almost sounded like he was trying to do, at least at first. “But how do I know you’re not just spinning a tale? Taking advantage of the chaos?”

“-the–the kunny’ll back me up, just ask him!”

“And how would I know the two of you have not conspired?” she asked. I thought I heard a malicious smile, as strange as that tone would be.

The feline failed to rise to the bait. However, the boy chained to the otherside of the pen stirred and awoke

“W-what? M-morning a-alread-d-dy?” he asked, stumbling over words. His voice threw me for a loop. Rather than sounding young, it had a deep and melodic accent, opposed to the sharper tongue the human language preferred.

“You! Elf!” the artificer called out, “Tell them! You saw the kunny, yeah? They’ll make it worth your while.”

That threw me for a loop, but I was startled soon after by a sudden sound.

The Red Queen slammed her palm against the gate.

“Do not speak for your betters, slave,” the Red Queen said, with only a hint of anger in her voice. Like she was going through with the motions, versus actually caring. Though she probably would care, if the man continued to overstep.

“Apologies, ma’am.” The artificer bowed as far as his collar allowed. “Knife-ears, what do you remember of the girl, the kunny?”

Now that the boy was standing, I noticed that his ears were sharp and long… and elfish.

“H-hard-dly w-will en-nd-dear m-m-m–” the elf struggled to form words. A scar ran across his mouth, not fresh, but like a brand had been scraped across the lower half of his voice. The Red Queen grew impatient.

“Enough,” she said simply, sternly, but not unkindly. “Return to sleep, elf. You’ve your duties on the morrow.”

“Y-yes-ss,” the elf drew out, slurring and hissing at the same time. He settled back down on a shelf, where he had several luxury items, such as a ratty blanket, and a moldy pillow.

With the elf dealt with, she turned her attention towards the man, her expression hardened. “Now, artificer, tell me what you know.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Perhaps emboldened by the soft treatment that the elf received, the man straightened his spine and met the woman’s gaze.

“I’ve got a name y’know,” the man said.

“Do you,” the Red Queen spoke, unamused. Concerningly, the Red Queen held out her hand, palm up, waiting. She seemed excited.

“Yes ma’am,” the man said, missing a hint.

Just out of sight to the artificer, the toady went to a shelf and pulled what looked like an extra-long cattle-prod, with bronze tubing winding the length up to the zapper.

“And you think your name is worthy of my lips?” she asked.

“...yes?” the man asked, swallowing hard, and slowly realizing his error.

The strange spear length cattle prod was put into the Red Queen’s hands. She pressed the trigger on its handle, and a white pop went off from the tip, like a capacitor discharging.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean it, dung, I mean, ma’am, I misspoke!” the artificer said frantically, trying to bow in submission.

All the while he was babbling, the Red Queen looked on, continuing to play with the cattle prod, eliciting the occasional pop of a discharge. When he had finally run out of steam, she spoke.

The Red Queen began monologuing as she casually tapped the cattle prod in one hand against the other. “... I treat my property fairly. I feed you, water you, take you for walks. I give clear instructions. I gave you a warning.”

She began to push the cattle prod between the bars, approaching the artificer, slowly, with electricity crackling from the tip.

The man let out a sob, “I said I was sorry!”

But his pleas had no effect. If anything, it left the woman smiling, grinning at some joke only she was in on.

She continued, “were I a cruel woman, I would spare you your punishment now. But, as I said, I am not a cruel woman.”

The tip of the prod met the man’s flesh on the side of his stomach. There was a pop then a continuous buzzing, all the while he squealed, with smoke rising from the point of contact. A smell reminiscent of bacon filled the air. My mouth watered, just a little.

“But I can be,” she said. “You got off lightly. If I didn’t need you to craft our rifles, I might have broken your hands.”

“His craft doesn’t need his legs, Cap,” the toady offered in a mirthful tone, likely just pleased the Red Queen was focused on someone else..

“Hm,” the Red Queen hummed, consideringly, almost playfully, though her cold eyes never stopped piercing the poor artificer. “That is true. Consider this your final warning. Disrespect will not be tolerated.”

“Yes, yes!” the artificer said, gasping in relief as the cattle prod was removed. He continued to profess his allegiance, “I didn’t mean anything by it. I never planned on holding anything back. I was just–”

The Red Queen had withdrawn the prodder, but she pressed the trigger once more, letting it pop and discharge in the air. The man cut his whining short.

“A kunbeor came here,” the Red Queen asked. “Yes or no.”

“Yes!” the artificer nodded quickly, without delay. “I mean, yes ma’am!”

The cattle prod popped again, flashing the room in light for a fraction of a second.

“The kunbeor spoke with you then?” she asked.

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“What did this kunbeor say?”

“I-I only woke up part way through, but it–she–was talking about stealing your key and letting us out.”

“My key?” she asked, sounding a mix of amused and concerned. “This key?”

She pulled something up from her neck, a ruby pendant. It looked nothing like a key–nothing at all like one.

But now I knew where my target was and what it looked like. I just had to reach it, from where it was, on a tight necklace currently worn around the Red Queen’s neck.

Less than twenty feet away.

I could magic up an Illusion, distract them, pull the key, and then… then what? No, that plan would fail. Always have a way out. If I tried doing that, they would shoot me as I fled. The cavern here was narrow enough that a fusillade would likely hit me as I ran.

Of course, there was another option.

They were right there. With their backs turned.

I had a knife.

I could slink.

I could creep up on them and disable them a little more permanently. It was risky though. Not many injuries would prevent them from shooting me in return, or calling for help. And the Red Queen appeared superhuman. I did not want to risk crossing her while within grappling range.

I could kill them. But… no. I refused to kill. That was not me.

I could maybe threaten them? Sneak up behind the Red Queen, put a knife to her throat, hold her hostage… ? Except, that never goes well. And I was uncertain that the other bandits would care if she died. It depended on how beloved she was. I knew she could care less if I took her minion hostage. I could hold the booze hostage–but that was ridiculous and bound to fail.

My options, my reasonable options, distilled down to somehow picking the necklace off her without her noticing, killing them and taking the necklace, waiting for the whole thing to blow over, or… leaving, without helping the prisoners.

I could cut my losses and leave. I did have my own supplies. The one I thought was a child was actually an elf, and perhaps an adult, and besides, was treated not as terribly as expected. And one of the prisoners had betrayed me. But did all of them deserve that fate?

Such was my internal dilemma as the Red Queen continued interrogating the artificer.

“This female Kunbeor thought to free the other, and you included? Describe her.”

“Some kinda kunny. Glowing cyan eyes. Purple fur. Couldn’t see much in the dark. Big tail though.”

“Unusual. A rare variant? But why risk one on a mission like this…” she considered out loud, before asking the artificer more directly. “Did you Union send her? Does your Union train such kunbeor as muscle?”

“No! At least, I don’t think so?”

“I doubt they would renege on our contract either… it must be a competitor then.”

“They might!” the artificer protested, before catching himself and stammering, “uh, I mean, ma’am, they might?”

“Perhaps. But there was a clause in our contract. We have asked you before. I will ask you once more, but not again. Will you join my crew? You will find the duties similar, but the accommodations much better.”

“Just gotta do the initiation,” the toady added helpfully.

“Just… that,” the artificer repeated wanly. Whatever the initiation was must have been awful, at least worse than living in that cage. I wondered what it was.

“You should feel fortunate I’m even giving you the choice of joining. You haven’t seen me offering to the elf or the kunny.”

“But they ain’t human…”

“You are all my property.”

“Is the initiation still the same?” the artificer asked.

“Heh, Yeah.” The toady seemed to delight in answering, and his boss allowed it. “But we might go easy on ya. Gotta fill some positions.”

“I’m an Artificer!”

“Enough!” the Red Queen clapped her hands. “No more. Give your answer by tomorrow. If you think of anything else, let us know. In the meantime, we’ll double shifts. But if this is a ruse? Well, you better godslickin’ hope not. Call if she comes back. We’ll have someone in earshot. Don’t cock this up.”

“R-right! As you say, ma’am.”

The Red Queen handed the prodder off to her toady and walked off, with the toady trailing behind after hanging the prodder back up. “And think about that initiation. Could always use an artificer.” she called over her shoulder. She paused, then added, “a willing artificer, I mean.”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll think about it, yeah! And I’ll call if–”

The Red Queen kept walking along with the toady, ignoring the artificer as he shouted back towards them.

As she and her toady walked away, I heard her comment, “I may be a little cruel afterall.”

The toady laughed at the joke, though I could not tell if the laugh were true or solely to appease his boss. Regardless, I myself had mixed feelings that were best left unnamed.

It gave me much to think about as I waited to ensure they had truly left.

True to her word, the Red Queen did keep the toady within earshot of the prisoners, and it sounded like another human had joined him to help stand guard and protect their ‘assets.’

It disgusted me how they turned people into things, but I might have been limited in my options. Too many options. What I needed was facts. Information. I needed to answer a simple question: can I get the feline and elf out without the human alerting their captors to our escape?

If we incapacitated him, then yes, that was likely. I still had yet to get the key, however, and it was almost certainly to be kept under vigilant guard now, at least for the next few days.

Could I even stay here that long? I wondered.

It would be risky. But first, I needed answers. I slowly approached the prisoner’s pen. The cavern was kept in darkness, with only the dimmest light shining from further up in the cavern, where the bandits kept guard.

As I came closer, I decided to catch the feline’s attention. If his hearing was like mine, then he could already hear me breathe. But just in case not, in case my Blessings had improved my ears above and beyond baseline, and because I had yet to see any indicator that the feline had heard me, I scratched the floor with a toenail.

His face came up, and his eyes, shining green in the darkness, focused on me.

Consertingly, he shook his head. It was a small movement. I almost could not be certain. He repeated the gesture, more pronounced.

But… why? I wanted to ask. I might have mouthed it, almost whispered, but not quite, the same why I called Illusions silently.

The feline nodded at me, mimed opening and closing his mouth, then pointed at his fuzzy ear atop his head. It sent mixed signals, but I finally figured out what he meant, when he turned to the artificer and spoke. He was using his conversation with the artificer to elaborate the point that he could not directly communicate to me. Clever, if roundabout.

“Your betrayal was foolish.” The feline was speaking to the man for what I assumed was my account, as the feline and I could not discuss openly with that apparent traitor listening in. It was too bad, since there were a few very pointed questions I wished to ask the man.

“Very foolish,” the cat said in his sinuous accent. “These ones had a chance to escape. Now, now, these ones do not have this.”

“Shut it, cat,” the artificer spat. Notably, he still smelled of cooked flesh, no matter how he rubbed at his side. Those burns would require treatment. Despite the pain, he still managed to snarl at the feline. “Don’t wanna hear it. You and the other freaks woulda probably just killed or shackled me anyhow.”

“Not all are as vile as alqu,” the feline practically sneered.

“Oh yeah?” the artificer scoffed, perhaps somewhat forced. “And what’s that got to do with it? You think I don’t know ‘bout what you animals do to captives? I’ve heard stories.”

Instead of denying the vague accusation, the feline only chuckled darkly, “only to prey, this one thinks.”

“Like I thought,” the artificer sneered. “Better the god you know than getting eaten alive by some monster.”

“That hardly ever happens,” the feline said, an amused tone. “But perhaps for some this one makes an exception?”

Now I could not tell if the feline was joking or not. It sounded like the artificer might have been in the same situation, as the man fell silent.

It was the feline that continued the conversation. “Will the alqu join the other hescoria?”

“Why–what?!” the artificer said. “I don’t even know what you asked. Speak Imperial!”

The feline stared at the man expectantly while playing with his claws.

The artificer scowled, “I figure you wanna know if I’ll join the Queen? Why? What’s in it for you? Wanna report to your little kitty friend?”

I was not a kitty friend.

“Curiosity,” the feline answered. “Merely that.”

“Heh. Well keep wondering,” the artificer said. Then barked a laugh, again forced, carrying more bravado than humor. “Know what they say ‘bout that and cats. Maybe it’ll kill ya and do us all a favor.”

“Answer this at least,” the feline said. “Why? Why betray your chance at freedom?”

“Ain’t none of us ever free. And I don’t trust ya. Also, that kunny already might as well have failed. Might as well get something outta it. Now shut it. Some of us have work in the morning.”

“Hescoria alqu,” the feline swore.

During the conversation, the feline occasionally glanced my way, and repeated the gesture of shaking his head. He truly believed that the man was an obstacle, and one we could not overcome. Or one that the feline did not feel like overcoming.

And after listening to that conversation, I thought I would struggle convincing the artificer peacefully as well. I could always kill him I supposed, but that… I was no killer.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, the elf stirred, giving both the feline and artificer a scowl of his own. “C-ca-can-n y-you sh-sh-ut-t i-it-t?” the elf asked meanly, through much effort.

“Exactly. Knife-ears gets it,” the man huffed, and rattled his leash at the feline.

I still struggled to understand why all of the slaves did not leap at the opportunity to escape. I tried working through their motivations, their situations. The human was right out. The elf seemed ambivalent. And the feline could be down with it, but not desperate to do so.

Was life free that horrible that slavery was only slightly worse? I had seen the barren wasteland. Perhaps that environment could inspire wickedness in the population.

But I refused to leave them without at the very least giving them a chance, a sliver, of hope.

I approached the pen slowly while the feline watched. He shook his head, at least until I pulled both the bronze and silver keys out. I knew that at least one of them would probably unlock their collars. From there, somehow the feline could escape on his own.

I hid the keys on the ground, under a rock, where the feline could see. When he walked by, if he was clever, he could swipe them, then unlock himself and free himself and flee. Or attempt to.

It could have been my imagination. His eyebrows did rise though, and his ears flicked forward. He mouthed, ‘thank you,’ and gave a slight bow.

Then, he shut his eyes. A deliberate end to the silent conversation. I backed away lest the elf or human see.

I wanted to do more. But realistically, my chances of helping them were marginal. And the chances I would get caught were rising dramatically, largely thanks to the artificer.

We would all have a better chance of success and living were I to leave and return at a later date, with a better plan and preparations. The feline had seemed to acknowledge this, as painful as the fact was. Compounding to that pain, perhaps diluting it with bliss: my right forearm burned once more, and yes, it felt good, but it was no consolation to the horrible feelings flowing through me.

But still… I was leaving at least two people bound in slavery.

Stealth: 6/9 (+1)

I kept telling myself over and over that the feline had seemed to understand.

And yet, I felt like someone had taken my soul and shoved it in a closet.

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

* Body: 38

* Mind: 49

* Spirit: 45

Talents:

* Athleticism (2/9):

* Climbing (7/9)

* Stealth (6/9) (+2)

* Trackless Tracks (3/9)

* Closed (2/9)

Spells:

* Illusion (7/9)

* Closed (0/9)

* Closed (0/9)

Gifts:

* Obsession (2/9)

* Closed (0/9)

* Closed (0/9)