Once she went back to school after her absence, the other kids didn’t pick on her very much anymore. A few of them even offered muttered apologies about her mother.

Shay didn’t know how they’d found out. Maybe the teachers had told them about it. Either way, she didn’t like it. Their kindness sickened her even more than their scorn. It wasn’t that they liked her, or that they actually felt bad. She had just become too pitiful to hate.

In the afternoon, she had the Assistant guide her down to the nearest Welfare Office. After sitting in a crowded waiting room for a few hours, she was directed to a booth where an old, beat-up construct heard out her case. The robot regarded her with cold, unfeeling eyes, its face a steel mask dirtied with smudges and fingerprints.

Since she had no legal guardian anymore, she asked to receive financial assistance or to be placed in foster care. The construct nodded emotionlessly through her story, then agreed to file her into the system, but told her that it would likely take some time before she received a reply due to the Welfare Office’s high caseload.

Shay hadn’t expected anything different.

The next few days she received nothing from the Welfare Office or about the letter she had handed off for the queen’s consideration.

She stretched out her flora as much as possible, eating only bread and noodle packets, but it wasn’t long before she was completely dry. She went without food for three days before, with hunger clawing at her stomach and delirium fogging up her head, she was forced to consider the one thing she hadn’t wanted to think about.

Shay stood in front of the Hall of Lovely Flesh, a three-story building at the heart of Devil’s Shame that had been converted from a small hotel into a brothel. A flickering hardlight projection floated above the crumbling brick facade, depicting the 3D bust of a woman with four bouncing breasts, the name of the establishment wildly careening about her in bold pink lettering.

Shay lingered near the door, buffeted by the relentless flow of passersby. She listened to the muffled sounds of laughter from inside, unable to quite bring herself to go inside.

They’d probably hire me if I asked, she thought. I bet they make a lot of money from underage girls. Maybe I would make enough to pay off my debts, if they decide to actually pay me.

They’d probably make me get mods, though…

It was the last thing Shay wanted. She had seen what it did to her mother. In the end, it was a bad implant that had caused the infection that killed her. Was it really worth giving herself up piece by piece, her body and her dignity both, for the chance to keep living just a little longer?

Shay was forced to stagger back as the door flew open and three men piled into the street. All three of them were modded, bristling with artificial muscle of metal and flesh woven together, with amber decorations outlining the musculature of their bare arms.

She stood aside to let them by, face downturned. They had almost passed her when the last of them stopped and looked down at her, towering a good head and a half over her.

“Shouldn’t you be in school or something?” he asked in a thick, slightly slurred tone that suggested he was inebriated even though it was only noon.

“I took the day off,” Shay said.

“To come to a place like this?” He laughed. “You got your priorities all mixed up, girl.”

“Maybe.” She wasn’t sure whether to tell him why she was really there. As the three men gathered around her, she grew increasingly uncertain.

“What’s your name, anyway?”

“Shay.”

“The rest of it too, come on. Don’t be rude.” He poked her forehead and drove her back up against the wall of the establishment.

“Shay Bidden.” She probably shouldn’t have told him the truth, but maybe the last piece inside of her that cared what happened had finally died.

The man grinned. “Oh, shit. You Ella’s kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Where the fuck is she, anyway? She hasn’t come in for days.”

“She died.”

Because of your mods.

“Really? Man, what a fucking drag. You know, your mom was pretty hot back in the day. ‘Course, she got kinda busted up by the end, so maybe it was about time to find a replacement anyway. How about it, kid? You’re a bit skinny, but some people are into that.”

Shay made herself small with her back pressed firmly against the wall as the men crowded around her with their predatory smiles. She didn’t cry. She didn’t call for help, either. There was no point. It wasn’t as though no one could see what was happening. Pedestrians just walked around them, occasionally sparing Shay a brief glance before hurrying on.

“Well? Speak the fuck up, girl. What’ll it be?” The man took her by the chin and turned her face up so she was forced to look at him. His fingers dug in around her jaw, hard enough to hurt.

I don’t want to do this.

I don’t want this.

I don’t.

But I haven’t got a choice.

“I…”

“Shit yourselves.”

The unfamiliar voice was dry and coarse, seeming to echo unnaturally. The first man let go of Shay to clutch at his stomach, doubling over with a low groan. The second toppled sideways with a cry onto the slushy sidewalk, and the third staggered against the wall, holding desperately onto the brickwork.

The loud rumbling of their stomachs suggested that they really were… shitting themselves.

A man approached Shay from the street, kicking the first man onto his friend in the process. He was very tall and clad in dark clothes, with a long black coat that had eyes of silver thread embroidered into it. His eyes had been replaced with magimod metal lobes. They contained many-faceted stones that glowed a startling blue, with small black specks serving as pupils. His skin was a light brown that still somehow had a sickly pallor to it, and his dark hair hung in long, limp curls.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said. “I didn’t really feel like listening to that any longer. Shay Bidden, you’ll be coming with me now.”

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“Uh…” Shay glanced around at the men noisily voiding their bowels. If anything, she was more frightened of this new man, who possessed the power to command men to such indignity with a few words, than any of the others.

“‘Uh’ what? Come on.” He jerked his head towards a sleek black car that stood parked halfway up the sidewalk, one passenger door hanging open. It looked expensive.

“How do you know my name?”

The man rolled his sparkling gemstone eyes. “Dead gods, we’re doing this, are we? You name is Shay Bidden. You’re thirteen years old. You attend Low Heights Free Middle. Your birthday is the 13th of Spirit. Your favorite food is chocolate. Your favorite color is green. Your mom died six days ago, so sad. You’ve recently thought about killing yourself.” His face crept closer while he spoke until they were only centimeters apart. His luminous eyes went wide and crazy, their blue light leaving Shay blinking away lingering spots in her vision.

Shay didn’t know what to say to that. Her gut was all frozen into a clump of cold dread.

Then, suddenly, the man stood away and extended his arms to his sides. “Now, who am I to know so much about you? Give me your best guess.”

Shay looked him obediently up and down. The hair, the eyes, the coat, the power in his words…

It had to be.

But at the same time, it couldn’t be.

Shay licked at dry lips, unable to meet the man’s gaze. “You’re… Linton Granhorn, maybe. The Hero of the Concord. Thousand-Eyes.”

The man clapped unenthusiastically. “Excellent work, kid. I’ve got a real deductionist on my hands. With that said, let’s go.”

“Wait, but… Why? What do you want with me?”

The situation had rapidly gotten too unhinged for her to even question the reality of it, only compounded by the men who were still tossing and groaning on the pavement. It was starting to smell, too.

Linton Granhorn shrugged. “Because you’re special, of course. Something something ancient prophecy, something something the power of your bloodline, something something the fate of the world. Does that sound believable enough?”

“You… didn’t even bother coming up with an excuse.”

“Whatever, it’s not like you need to know. All you need to know is, I just bought out all your debts, and I’m placing you into repayment servitude. You know what that means?”

“Um… Slavery?”

“Not at all. It’s like a job you can’t say no to.”

“That sounds like slavery.”

“Okay then, smarty-pants. It’s like slavery but fun! Since you’ll be spending it with me.”

Linton Granhorn walked over to his car and slid inside, shuffling into the far passenger seat. He patted the one next to him. “It stinks over there, so we’re leaving now. I’ve been asking nicely so far, but if you don’t start cooperating I’ll need to start giving orders.”

Hesitantly, Shay went and sat in the car, sinking into the plush leather seat. The door shut on its own, clicking as a lock engaged.

Am I going to have my organs harvested or something?

For some reason, I don’t think I want to die that way.

Shay checked her banking through the Knowlink. Sure enough, she received a notification that her debts had been transferred to the Estates and Holdings of Arch Magus Emeritus Linton Granhorn.

So… it’s really him?

Shay glanced over at the man sitting next to her. He smiled a nasty smile back, head resting in his hand with the elbow propped against the rim of the side window.

He’s not really anything like the stories. In a bad way.

“Hey, that’s rude,” Linton said with a grimace.

Oh shit, I forgot.

Linton Granhorn was supposed to be the strongest mind mage of all time. If this was really him, he would be able to read her thoughts easily. And do a lot worse to her if he wanted to, as illustrated by the men he had left browning their pants.

“All right, Yoren, take us back,” Linton said with a bored wave.

The steering wheel started turning on its own as the driverless car pulled off the sidewalk with a few sharp jolts and onto the road, taking them along at a slow crawl due to the lunch rush clogging up traffic.

Shay wasn’t sure what to say to avoid getting in trouble, so she figured staying quiet was probably the best option, keeping her gaze firmly on her shoes. But she had too many questions to ignore, and eventually she just had to start asking them.

“Is… this about the letter?”

“Well, you didn’t actually expect the queen herself to read it, did you?”

“No, not really.”

“Luckily for you, it happened onto the desk of one of my people, and I took an interest in the welfare of a poor little orphan girl. I’m nice like that.”

“What did the letter even say?”

“You mean your mom didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

Linton hesitated for a moment, then clicked his tongue. “Probably best if you don’t know, then. At least for now.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so, stupid.”

There was a long silence as the car took them out of Devil’s Shame and into the Sun City district. Through some deft navigation from the automated driver, they were able to avoid the worst of the congestion and pick up speed.

“I thought you were retired,” Shay said despite herself after some time.

Stupid. I should just shut up before I get in even more trouble.

If Linton read her thoughts, he didn’t comment on it. “I am retired. What about it? Are retirees not allowed to have servants or something?”

Shay shook her head weakly. “No, it’s not that, just… they say you haven’t been in Northmark for years. That you vanished right after you retired.”

“I came back,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

He sighed. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“I mean… this isn’t really a normal situation, so I…” She caught herself and bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Mr. Granhorn.”

“It’s fine. Ask away if you want, I guess. At least it might make this a little less boring.”

“Okay.” Shay continued to mull things over. “Did you know my father?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, my mother wasn’t anyone important. So, I’m thinking, it must have been my father who was important enough to get the Crown’s attention.”

“I don’t work for the Crown anymore.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“Truthfully, I did know your father.”

“But you won’t tell me who he was.”

“Not right now.”

“Why?”

“Nothing good comes from you knowing.”

“But he was important?”

Linton shrugged. “A long time ago, maybe.”

They passed through Sun City, then Ardex, and finally entered Rathome. As the name suggested, this too was one of the shabbier parts of Northmark, but Shay remembered that this was where Linton had decided to build his seat. A strange choice, considering the dilapidated and abandoned buildings and ramshackle drifter abodes that littered the district, but Thousand-Eyes was a well-known eccentric. Almost as soon as they entered Rathome, his tower could be seen rising above the skyline, a black sliver with a radiant blue sphere set into its peak.

Blue Raven Tower.

Not the tallest or the grandest of the nine mage towers that dotted the city, but certainly the most famous, if only because of its owner.

After another twenty minutes the car parked in front of the spire, and Linton got out, motioning for Shay to follow. Exiting the vehicle, she found herself staring up at the impossibly high structure, craning her neck until it hurt to get a glimpse of its brilliant blue peak among the clouds.

The Eye, that dome was called. A perch from which Linton Granhorn could view the whole city, and indeed the whole Concord, if the stories were to be believed.

Shay couldn’t even guess at how many floors the tower had. At least a hundred. She wondered how many people were inside. Even retired, he had to have a whole staff working for him.

“Well?” Linton said with a sigh, standing on the stairs leading up to the gilded metal doors. “Are you just going to stand there?”

The doors opened on their own, as if to back up his statement, and washed the stairs in a wedge of amber light, with Linton’s shadow lengthening out to touch her.

The Hero of the Concord glared at her with those unnerving stone eyes.

It’s not like I have a choice.

Even if she had, she wouldn’t have walked away. Regardless of how different he was from the legends, Linton Granhorn wasn’t someone you turned down. Especially when he was offering you a job.

Slavery or not.