Reluctant Host Read online

  I didn’t understand, but when she asked, “Do you understand?” I nodded.

  “I am going to remove my hand,” she said. “If you scream, no one will hear you, but we will hurt you.”

  She paused then slowly removed her hand, pulling the cloth away from my mouth. I turned my head to look at her. I could barely see her, she was so dark. “Alyidil,” I said. “Why?”

  “Our mistress wishes to meet you,” she explained. “We tried the easy way, but she is impatient. We have searched much of Sargaren for you. Open your mouth widely.”

  “This is evil,” I said.

  “Open,” she repeated. I did, and she filled my mouth with the cloth, and then secured it as well. “You could probably work that out, but if you do, we will hurt you. We will not harm you, but we will hurt you.”

  Then they pulled a sack over my head, cinching it lightly around my neck.

  I learned what the branches were for; they used them to carry me. It was tricky getting out the door. In the alley, they threw a blanket over me, presumably hiding the shape of what I was. And then they carried me, two on either side, as we hurried through the streets.

  It hurt. It could have hurt worse, but it hurt as I hung from the wood. But they ran more smoothly than I would, and I thought they made no extra effort to make it hurt worse than necessary. From time to time I gave out little grunts, and I know I whimpered, the noises muffled, and I probably made more noise breathing. The way my heart was pounding, I thought even that should be heard.

  But it was late, the dead of night, and as best I could tell, we encountered no one on the empty streets.

  Then I heard horses. They lifted me, then set me down. There was rocking, and I recognized a small wagon. More rocking, and then we were moving again.

  I still hurt, but this wasn’t remotely as bad as being carried. But that was when I started to quietly cry.

  Someone leaned over me. “She doesn’t intend to harm you. She needs you.”

  “You’re a charvering bang-swallower,” I said into the gag. I’m pretty sure none of the words were intelligible, nor am I sure she would have understood me even without the gag, but she recognized the tone.

  “We’re sorry, Jeraya,” she said. “But our mistress wasn’t interested in ‘no’.” But then there was movement, and I felt things piled on top of me. “We’re coming to the gate. If you alert the guard, we’ll be forced to kill them. They won’t expect it, and they won’t have a chance to sound an alarm. And then for the rest of the trip, we will hurt you. Please don’t make us do that.”

  I said nothing, but I grew quiet as they piled things atop me. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it was soft, at least, even if the wagon under me wasn’t.

  We came to a stop. The conversation with the guard was muffled. And then we were moving again.

  I knew that had been my last chance to summon help; there wouldn’t be another, unless we were entering another town, and had to pass another guard.

  That wasn’t to be the case.

  Intentions

  We didn’t travel that far, perhaps a half hour, perhaps a little more. I had no idea where they were taking me nor even which gate we had used leaving the city. But we came to a stop. There was rocking, and then I heard and felt as they pulled the things off of me.

  “We’re here,” Alyidil said. “It is a short walk now, and then you will meet our mistress. This wasn’t so bad, Jeraya.”

  “You’re a green-toothed pilliardizer,” I grunted. “A slack-lipped jute-jumper.” I worked at an inn; I’d heard them all, and I was only warming up.

  They pulled me from the wagon. I grunted and gave a cry as they picked me up, but then I returned to my insults. “You are the scum that forms on my teeth at night, the ice that surrounds the droppings of a mule in winter.”

  They said nothing, but they carried me. I heard doors, and they shifted me through a doorway. I heard sandals against stone floors, and then another door.

  I continued my tirade as they lowered me to the floor, onto something soft. There were new footsteps drawing close, and a fresh accented voice said, “She doesn’t seem pleased.”

  I started with new insults directed at the new woman. She let me go on for a minute then asked, “Does anyone know what she’s saying?”

  “I imagine the tone is sufficient,” Alyidil said. “She is unharmed, Mistress.”

  “Good. Stand her up. I must see her.”

  It took a minute. They partially untied my legs, and I gave a fresh groan as they allowed me to straighten them. Then they lifted me until I stood, unsteadily, on my bound feet. Someone’s hands reached for the drawstring of the sack, and then it was removed, somewhat carefully, from my head.

  I found myself staring into the eyes of… A woman. Okay, I could tell she was a woman, and attractive besides.

  She wasn’t like the others. Oh, no. Her skin was fair, perhaps the fairest I’d ever seen, quite the opposite from the other four.

  And she wasn’t human. She definitely wasn’t human.

  The first I saw were her eyes; they were slit like a cat’s.

  Her eyebrows… were tufted, like whiskers, but above her eyes, extending a good hand span to either side, and I would learn they were quite expressive.

  Her hair was white, pure white, long, and alive. It wasn’t wild. It was quite tame. But it moved, almost as if it was breathing. I stared at that, and she actually turned sideways to give me a better look.

  And that was when I saw the ear. It was as pointed as mine, but mine were delicate, and only a little taller than they were wide. Her ear was twice that height, three times that height, poking out the top of her head, almost like a cat’s ears in a way, but mounted on the side of her head, and so very, very tall.

  Then she turned back to me, and her hand lifted to my chin. She held me steady, looking deeply into my eyes as I glared into hers. With her free hand, she fingered my hair. “Perfect,” she whispered. “She’s perfect.”

  I looked left and right. Alyidil and Mayolin held me. More exactly, they held the wood thrust between my arms, using it to keep me exactly where I was. I turned back to their mistress and offered another glare.

  “Even like this, she has fire,” said the woman, speaking slowly to be understood. She stepped closer, and I tried to shy away as she lifted her hands, but I had nowhere to go. She set her hands on the cloth at the back of my head. It took her a moment, but she released it, and when I could, I started spitting the cloth from my mouth. She helped me, plucking it from me, before holding it out to the side for Burquiri to take from her.

  “We won’t harm you,” she said. “You will be our guest.”

  “Guest?” I echoed. “Is this how the guests dress wherever you’re from.”

  “Reluctant guest,” she amended. “I need you.”

  “For what?”

  “A ritual,” she said. “You won’t be harmed. If you behave you won’t even be hurt.”

  “What are you? Where are you from?”

  “Your people tell stories of us,” she said. “We call ourselves Glimari. But in your stories, you call us dark elves.”

  I scoffed. “Children’s tales.”

  She flicked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “You’re nearly as white as snow.”

  “I’m not the one who writes the stories,” she replied. “I believe there are other species you also write about, from other worlds, and you call all of us elves, as if the word means not-human.”

  “Other worlds?”

  “Yes. I am not from this world. I am banished here.”

  “You make no sense.”

  “I know,” she said. She flicked the eyebrow again. “Do you have another explanation?”

  “No. What are you going to do to me?”

  “I told you. I need you for a ritual.”

  “You’re going to sacrifice me in some evil rite.”

  “No,” she said. “I told you: you won’t be harmed.”

  “They told me I w
ouldn’t even be hurt, if I didn’t fight them further. I didn’t fight. I didn’t make any noise for the guards. But would you care to be carried the way they carried me?”

  “No,” she admitted. “Did they hurt you intentionally?”

  “No.” I turned to look at Alyidil. “I was kind to you. You are strangers in this town, and most people are leery of strangers. I was kind. And you do this to me.”

  “It’s not her fault,” said the dark elf. “I told her to acquire you.”

  “Oh, and so she does what you order?”

  “She does. If you wish to blame someone, blame me.”

  “There’s enough blame for all of you,” I replied. “What is this ritual?”

  “I wish to summon a goddess.”

  “More children’s tales.”

  “Do children’s tales come forth from the pages?” she asked, gesturing to herself. “Perhaps I am delusional, and nothing will happen.” She stroked my hair. “That is actually rather likely.”

  “That you’re sun-touched? I can believe that.”

  “That nothing will happen.” She gestured. “Let her sit.”

  I couldn’t walk, my legs bound, even if not doubled back on themselves, so Alyidil and Mayolin half carried me, half dragged me. It wasn’t comfortable, and I whimpered a few times, but they lowered me into a chair. The woman took another, pulling it to face me, our knees nearly touching. “Let us start with this. I am called Lal Keshia.”

  I considered an insult. Instead, I muttered, “Jeraya.”

  She practiced it and then made me practice hers. I considered a show of defiance, but I wasn’t an idiot. I held no power here, and their willingness to casually hurt me just to set me in a chair didn’t bode well. And so, I said her name as well as I could.

  “Good,” she said. “I wish to summon a goddess. Her name is Shi`nual. She requires a host.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “She will take over your body.”

  “No!” I screamed.

  “You won’t be harmed,” Lal Keshia said quickly. “On my world, women such as you volunteer.”

  “You’re definitely sun-touched.”

  “Possibly,” she admitted. She leaned forward and fingered my hair. “We have humans on my world. One in a forty has hair such as yours. One in a fifty of those also has eyes this color. Shi`nual will only inhabit such a woman.”

  “Sun-touched.”

  She ignored that. “I will summon her. If she is pleased with my summoning, and with your appearance, she will accept the summons. And then I have three days to ask three questions.”

  “And then what?”

  “She leaves when she is summoned elsewhere. She may only be summoned on the night of two full moons. On my home, that is common, as we have eleven moons, and a night of two full moons is common.”

  “We only have two moons,” I said.

  “Yes. And the next night of two full moons is in another seven weeks. After that, I would need to wait nearly five years.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “It is simple math,” she said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I imagine not. You’ll have to trust me.”

  “Right,” I said. “I frequently trust the people who come to me at night like this.”

  “Normally, there might be ten people attempting to summon Shi`nual on the same night, and she only accepts a single summons. But it is unlikely the night of two full moons matches the night on my old home, so there should be little competition for her attention.”

  “And you think she’ll hear you?”

  “I hope she hears me,” she replied. “And I hope she is pleased by you.”

  “You have no right to do this to me.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “I’m desperate.”

  “You could have asked.”

  “Alyidil invited you.”

  “I was working!” I exclaimed. “Do you even understand the concept?”

  “You told Alyidil you worked every day. How was it that you put it? You work 9 days a week? You said, ‘Maybe some other time’, but made no effort to suggest when you could come.”

  “So, this is my fault?”

  “No. It isn’t your fault.”

  “You could have come to me,” I pointed out. “Seven weeks is a long time.”

  “First, I couldn’t come to you. Can you imagine the stir I would cause? Tell me: what could Alyidil have said to convince you to visit tomorrow?”

  I looked away, staring at nothing, and finally said, “I don’t know.”

  “Neither do I. And I don’t have seven weeks. We must return to my home on your world.”

  “Across the eastern desert?”

  “No, but it is a two-week journey, and then I must prepare for the ritual. I don’t have a week. We would have left tomorrow if we hadn’t found someone yesterday or today. Maybe we would have stumbled upon someone else, but I doubt it. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

  It took me about ten seconds to process what she had just said. And then I began screaming incoherently, absolutely screaming. I don’t know if any of them understood a word, but they would certainly have understood my rage.

  They were hauling me across the country to who-knows-where, taking me from my home, taking me from a job that wouldn’t be here when I got back – if I got back. And what would they do with me when they were done with me?

  I screamed, and I screamed. They made what I felt were half-hearted efforts to calm me down, but finally the woman said, “Lock her in the storage room.”

  The four of them picked me up, Alyidil and Mayoline using the pole under my arms, and the other two grabbing my waist and legs. At least it wasn’t as cruel as the first way they carried me.

  Still screaming, they brought me through the house and down into the basement. There was a small room with a sturdy door, and I got a good, good look at it as they worked their way through it. There was a bed, and they set me face down on it, and then Alyidil said, “If you want to be untied, be quiet.”

  That got through, and I shut up for a moment, panting heavily. She paused then said, “If you promise not to fight, we’ll untie you. Otherwise we’ll leave you like this. I know which I’d pick.”

  “Please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone what you’ve done.”

  “No. Do you want to be untied?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you fight us?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “I don’t entirely believe you,” she said. “If you fight us, we’ll tie you back up, and we’ll be cruel.”

  “I said I won’t fight.”

  She paused, but then they began untying me, starting with my legs. I lay still, and then when they untied my arms, I curled into a ball. “You are horrible, horrible people.”

  “We won’t harm you if you don’t make us,” Alyidil said.

  “What happens to me?” I asked. “You take me away. I’ll lose my job.”

  “It’s a terrible job.”

  “No one is offering me a better job,” I said. “I have a warm, dry place to live, and I eat very well. But you don’t care. I have red hair and violet eyes, and that’s all that matters to you. You’re an evil, scum-licking, prigger of animals.” I was just getting warmed up when the door slammed. I heard them push the bolt home, and they added two bars, holding the door secure. I screamed wordlessly before I began to cry.

  Touch

  I didn’t sleep.

  I cried for a while, finally growing a little numb. I screamed a lot. I eventually got up. The room was absolutely dark, but I checked thoroughly. It was utterly empty, except for the bed and the door. There wasn’t any light coming from anywhere, and the walls were stone. Maybe with enough light I could have found a weak point, but I didn’t think so, and I certainly didn’t find one in the dark.

  I returned to the door. I tried it. The handle wasn’t locked, but it opened outward, and when I rattled it, it went nowhere. I began thumpi
ng on it. I could tell it was bolted near the handle and barred near the top and bottom, or so I thought from the way the noise changed depending where I banged on it.

  I screamed. I kicked the door. That hurt, so I turned around and kicked with my heel. Kick, kick, kick, then slam my body into it. Kick, kick, kick, slam.

  When that hurt too much, I found my way back to the bed. I lay there a while before returning to the door.

  I wondered how well the noise I was making carried. If I wasn’t sleeping, I didn’t think I wanted them to sleep, either. Kick, kick, kick, slam. Kick, kick, kick, slam. It hurt, but I kept it up for a while. Maybe something would break, eventually.

  I didn’t think I was getting out of this alive. They were hardly going to let me go when they were done. They were going to use me for this ritual and then murder me afterwards. What else could they do?

  Everything they were doing was illegal, after all, and they had to know I’d report them. All five of them were unique, and they’d be easy to find if they didn’t leave back across the desert faster than word could spread. No, they’d be killing me.

  I had nothing to lose.

  Then I heard noise, and when I spun around, light was seeping in around the edges of the door. “Why are you so angry?” It was Alyidil.

  “Are you insane?” I asked. “Why am I so angry? You’re really asking that?”

  “We aren’t going to hurt you, Jeraya.”

  “You’re a liar,” I said. “You’ve already hurt me. Have you ever been carried like that?”

  “I am sorry,” she said. “I do not know your language very well.”

  “You speak just fine.”

  “We will not harm you.”

  “I don’t believe you!” I screamed. “What happens to me when this is over?”

  “We’ll let you go.”

  “Liar!” I screamed. “You're a thrice-cursed liar to go with a kidnapper and eventual murderer.”

  “I don’t even understand your insults.”

  “You understand my tone, but that wasn’t an insult. You’re going to murder me.”

  “I do not know that word.”