Tarek tried to keep himself from screaming and was mostly unsuccessful. The empty socket at the back of his mouth sent a steady flow of blood down his throat and having to swallow interrupted his hoarse wails. To his pain-addled thinking, those brief moments of silence were tiny victories. The big man with the stubble and the bad breath plucked Tarek’s bloody molar from his iron pliers and handed it to Degán, who was sitting right next to the table to Tarek was bound, observing his handiwork. The slaver made a happy little sound and tucked the prize into his fist. Then he stroked Tarek’s hair and shushed him like a mother quieting her babe.

“It’ll be all right,” he crooned. “A few days of soft food and you’ll be right as rain. Though, to be honest, the Sarabe hasn’t seen a drop in the better part of a year, so that might not be the right thing for comfort. How about this: I can feel everything you’re experiencing. This hurts me, too.”

Tarek let his head fall to the side so he could glare at the sallow, skinny man, but when he opened his mouth what came out was half a scream and half a sob. He hated being weak in front of this lizard of a man, and he hated even more than Degán knew he hated it. Worst of all was that the hand stroking Tarek’s head actually did comfort him to some extent, and he was absurdly grateful for that hint of human kindness even in the midst of being tortured. It was impossible to hide anything from Degán, and the slaver was an expert in exploiting his feelings.

“I know, it’s a mess,” Degán said, reading his emotions with infuriating ease. “We’ll be done with this bit soon enough, I think. You’ve told me your whole life, and you’re finally learning who’s in charge.”

You’ll never be in charge of me, Tarek thought, mutiny rising in his heart.

“Now, now,” the slaver said, wagging a finger at him. “Let’s not undo all the lovely progress you’ve made. You’ve still got several more teeth I could take without anyone being able to see, and neither of us would enjoy that, would we? I need you pretty, but what I really need is you compliant.” He clicked his tongue in mild irritation. “I’m going to have enough of a time as it is convincing the praetors those fingers were missing before I found you.”

Tarek stared at him, still making involuntary whimpers, wishing he could tell the man what he really thought of him, wishing he could escape, wishing he could stop hurting. He didn’t know how long they’d been doing this. A fortnight? A moon? Longer? They’d been through two more baked-stone cities with their curved walls shielding them from the blowing sands, but Tarek had spent most of his days strapped to this table bleeding from a dozen small wounds and vomiting up every scrap of Catori knowledge, every possible use and conjecture about his blood magic, and all the self-history he could remember. Xochil, Tavi, Kanga, Pahtl… Degán probed and dissected all of it and then had him start from the beginning again. It all blended together and made the days impossible to track. When I had you under my thumb, I treated you well. If only I’d remembered what a snake you were. If only I hadn’t been so trusting.

He thought back to his time in the slave cage, plotting his escape, and suddenly a laugh burst from him.

The bad-breathed torturer raised his pliers like a club, his face a mask of offense. Laughter during their conversations was not something he knew how to deal with. Degán held up a hand, forestalling him, and quirked an eyebrow at Tarek.

“Ooh, do tell, darling. I haven’t felt that much humor from you since we started all this.”

Tarek shook his head, exhausted and scared to let the man know his thoughts.

“Speak freely,” the slaver urged. “I promise I won’t hurt you for it.”

Tarek swallowed again and eyed the man with the pliers warily. “It’s never you that does. You can’t.”

Degán smirked and patted him on the head. “I won’t have anyone else hurt you for it, either. I’m glad to see I’ve managed to install some caution in you. You can’t walk through this world just trusting people. You’ll end up… well…” He gestured expansively at Tarek and the table he was tied to.

“Such a kind teacher,” Tarek murmured.

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He laughed, and Tarek could feel a spike of mirth and affection break the freakishly still surface of Degán’s emotions. “Oh, my boy,” he sighed. “You’re a treasure. But please, tell me what made you laugh just then. I’m genuinely curious, and even if you were contemplating my gruesome death I won’t hold it against you.”

Tarek sighed. The blood flow had lessened, and the empty hole where his tooth should be had faded from a bonfire to cooking coals. The big man with the painful tools had retreated to his stool in the corner and was taking a long pull from a wineskin, so perhaps Degán was telling the truth, if he was capable of it. Why not tell him? He’ll hurt me either way, and at least if I’m speaking it’ll be that much longer before they start in on me again. “I remembered when I was trying to escape the slave wagon that first time and I thought your guards were stupid to stop distrusting me just because I started behaving. I was plotting right under their noses, but because I stayed quiet, took my food, and didn’t make a fuss, they thought they were in charge. I couldn’t believe it. And then, the first chance I got, when I had you trapped with the blood magic, I did exactly the same thing.”

Tarek expected mocking or mirth, but Degán looked thoughtful and nodded sagely. “I don’t know that I could ever give you a better lesson. Most people’s nature is to give their trust even when the ones they’re trusting have already proven unworthy. You can betray someone a thousand times, and if you show them the slightest glimmer of kindness or mercy, they’ll come right back for betrayal number one thousand and one. Once you perceive this, you find it happening on all sides. Friends, business partners, spouses – it’s honestly a little depressing how many marriages are built like this – for the average person, the drive to trust is nigh inescapable. But now you’ve crossed over and seen the hidden truth hanging right out in the open. It’s like waking from a dream while everyone else still sleeps. You’ve unlocked a power nearly as fearsome as your blood magic, Tarek, and I’m proud of you.” He stroked Tarek’s hair as he spoke, and once again Tarek grappled with anger and servile gratitude.

“It’s stupid,” he whispered harshly, pulling against his cords.

“Don’t judge yourself so harshly,” the slaver said, “nor any of the rest of them. Yes, it’s stupid, but it’s a beautiful kind of stupidity. Pointless to dwell on the why of it, too, if you ask me. Butterflies are pretty, snakes bite, and people trust when they shouldn’t. Might as well make the best of it and use it to your advantage.”

“I still want to trust you,” Tarek marveled, looking Degán in the eye for the first time in ages. “You just had your man rip out one of my teeth, and as soon as you say something nice to me, I’m desperate to gain your approval. I hate even saying it, but it’s true.”

Degán grinned and patted him on the cheek. “Constant vigilance, my boy. Being aware of your nature doesn’t automatically free you from it. And there’s something more to consider in our particular situation: I hold the power of life, death, and pain over you, so the animal part of you wants very badly to stay on my good side. That means liking me on some level.” He shrugged. “I can’t say I mind. It’s so much nicer to talk to people who want to please, regardless of the reason.”

Tarek shook his head, despairing. “You’re awful.”

“We all are, though. I’m simply aware of it.”

Tears blurred Tarek’s vision. “I wish I could kill you. So much.”

“Mm,” Degán agreed, stroking his head again. “You always will. That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, though.”

Tarek couldn’t keep the incredulity off his face, and the slaver noticed.

“I mean it,” he insisted. “The most enduring relationships have a healthy mix of fear, distrust, and hatred to them. We’re going to do great things, you and I.”

Tarek lifted his wrists to show off his cords. “Hard to do great things when you’re strapped to a table.”

“Oh, we’re nearly done with that part, my boy. Don’t misunderstand; we’ll have a handful more conversations on this table, you and me and our friend Tikis over there, but you’ve nearly got the idea now. Once you know in your bones two things,” – he held up two fingers – “first, that you must always fear me, and second, that your life will be better if you obey me, then we can move on to the next bit.”

“I know both of those things,” Tarek said, desperation welling inside him.

“You think you do, but you’re still on the cusp. Today has been important, but there’s more work to be done.”

Tarek gritted his teeth and catalogued all the parts of him that hurt already, knowing more would follow. “And the next part?”

“Oh, that’s the fun bit,” Degán said, bouncing in his seat just a little. “We’ll give you reading lessons, and dancing, and philosophy. I’m going to stuff your head so full of books you’ll wish you were back on this table.” He considered the tooth still held in his fist. “Well, maybe not. But it will be hard work. We’ll have to fatten you up a bit – make you look sleek and strong.”

It sounded like paradise, and Tarek, for once, didn’t trust it. “Why would you do any of that?”

“Because, my sweet boy,” he whispered, leaning in close, “once you’re pretty and cultured and well-dressed – once you’re my perfect little exotic hidden-island savage – those leeches living in the Hearth won’t be able to resist you. They’ll offer me princely sums and secret favors and their daughters’ virtue, but I won’t sell. Then, once the whole world is watching, I’m going to give you to the Paramount and you’re going to make him your blood slave.”