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[Content Warning: This story contains mentions of slavery and sexual violence.]
Capturing the girl’s easy. All it takes is me and Cap’n waiting behind a dormant twista while the others chase her past. We’re proper smooth–Cap’n grabs her, I tie her hands behind her with a nully, he hoods her. Everyone cheers, including me. This time, I almost believe it.
She’s not like other slaves we’ve taken though. Most sob or plead, which I don’t like, or say, “Do you know who I am?” which usually wins sniggers. This one’s silent–both walking to camp and sitting at its edge. It’s creepy. Even Cap’n thinks so; he makes me give her dinner.
Her head lifts as I approach.
“I can’t eat with the hood on.” Her voice is posh. Familiar.
Me left hand twinges. Gentle-like, I spin her so she’s facing away from camp, and take the hood off.
“The hands?” She wriggles pale fingers behind her. I can see the nully’s rubbing her wrists something awful.
I look away again. “Don’t want you casting spells if you’re magic.” Grabbing the plate, I walk in front of her. “I’ll feed y-”
Food tumbles in a clatter. I don’t look at our marks till I got to, see; their faces make me feel, and Gods know I can’t do that no more. This is the first time I’ve seen this one’s face.
“Well,” she says to the fallen chicken. “This will be tasty.” She glances up, and nearly topples herself. “Adeline?”
Me heart’s pounding as I stare at Caitlin. Black hair, freckles, intelligent grey eyes; it’s been five years but this is definitely the girl I snuck out for every day till her daddy caught us and beat me so hard, I can still see the stars. ‘Til he sent me to gaol without trial, ‘cause he were the mayor and I were nothing.
Me hand prickles.
She glances round. She must know this burnt clearing. It’s fenced off but that never stops kids. This is where the mages dump their twistas–warped items that can freeze or kill or hurt you, the results of their bad experiments. But it’s also where me and Caitlin got the matching scars on our cheeks: she touched a wardrobe, I picked a chair, and both threw out whips before we could pull each other back. We always did stupid stuff like that, just to see what would happen. To feel our hands above the flame. We knew we’d always save each other.
She looks back. “Is this revenge?” she asks, soft-like.
“No.” Me tone’s frosty. She winces, not realising that’s just me now. Crouching, I glance through growling beds and spiky tables but the gang’s not paying attention. “Didn’t know it were you out there.”
She nods. “And now?”
I shrug, a bit too forceful-like. “Pretty girls like you sell for a high price.”
Caitlin’s always been calm and she don’t disappoint. Just raises an eyebrow. “Slaving, Adie? That’s unlike you.”
I shrug again, holding me left hand out. “Thieving weren’t me either. But ‘cause of this, ‘cause of your daddy, nobody will take me on. ‘Specially since Ma’s dead. We can’t all sit back and have everything we want. Slaving gives me money. A life. It’s worth it.”
“Is it?” she says, studying the T burned into that hand. “Because you used to cry when we found dying gnomes.”
I don’t flinch, don’t think of all them faces I could never look at or what’ll happen to Caitlin next. “I’m grown now.”
“So old, at nineteen.” There’s teasing in her voice and it burns. Me hand slaps her.
Her eyes widen; her mouth goes ‘oh’. As red blooms on her cheek, me heart keeps pounding that awful fast beat.
Cap’n shouts, is all OK, and I shout back, “Y-yeah.”
“Adie,” Caitlin begins. Her tongue licks her lips, making me want to hit again. A twista though. Feel it lash out, see what happens. “Fine,” she whispers. “Pick someone brutal.”
“What?”
Her shoulders slump. “Sell me to someone who will rip me apart.”
For some reason, I sit down next to her. I nearly reach for her hand, like before, but hers are tied up and anyway, it’s not before. I’m not that person no more. Just like how Cap’n isn’t some struggling street runner now either.
“Why?” I say.
She don’t look at me. “To see what happens.”
“Rape and torture, that’s what’ll happen.”
She shrugs, blunt as me voice. I tell meself I don’t care. People like me don’t get to care.
“Why was you out this far from town anyway?” me mouth says.
She glances at me. Her lips twist mockingly upwards, into that red. “You want a life, Adie. I don’t.”
I roll me eyes. “Poor princess. No oatmeal for breakfast?”
She shrugs. Her eyes fix on a nearby twista–a smoking, scorched clock. “Remember how we met?” she says. “You and me leaping at that pixie? You pulled me back when I got too close.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “And after, you got me food ‘cause I were starving.”
She nods. “And remember when Father found us?” Her cheeks blush, covering me mark. “You said you were robbing me. To stop him from hitting me.”
“I remember.” Me own cheeks match hers. Again.
“You lost everything because you saved me. But I lost nothing. Because I did nothing.” Her eyes squeeze shut for a second. “I want to get what I deserve. One way or the other.”
I look at her. Properly look. Her eyes don’t sparkle like they did before. And she’s thin now: beggar thin. She’s nothing like I imagined.
Quiet-like, I say, “A neighbour said you sent Ma medicine while I were locked up. That true?”
“I didn’t do enough.” Her voice is bitter. “She died anyway. And you … well. You’re definitely not a crier now. You’re barely Adie.”
I flinch like I got slapped.
Her eyes fix on the clock. “You and I,” she murmurs, “always danced on the edge of destruction.”
Me fingers trace me T. “Your daddy would’ve punished me whatever you said, you know.” I snort, remembering the closeness of our lips. Another ‘see what happens’. “Pointless, you going down too.”
“And yet,” she says, unsmiling.
“And yet.”
We sit quietly for a minute.
“Want to touch it?” She nods at the clock. “See what happens?”
It’d burn, I reckon, but she’s already turned me to water. I look at her scarred cheek. The red’s fading. Me and her, we’ve never been good for each other, I know. But… we’ve never wanted the other to fall either.
This isn’t over, I think. This is the edge.
“Maybe,” I say. “If you’ll be there to save me.”
I untie her hands.
Katie Lewis is a lawyer, originally from Wales and now living in London. When not talking taxes, Katie likes to write various kinds of fiction, both short and long.