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It takes a couple of minutes after the leader leaves for the women in the room to start whispering amongst themselves. Chains clink as they adjust their positions, trying in vain to get comfortable.
Kamaria focuses hard on the finger she’d moved earlier, forcing it to wiggle again. The one next to it moves slightly this time, too.
There’s a young girl sitting close by her, probably somewhere around sixteen years old. She leans in toward Kamaria a bit, pulling her knees up and wrapping her skinny white arms around them.
“I’m Merina,” she says softly. “What’s your name?”
Irritated, Kamaria cuts her eyes over to look at the frail blonde thing - and oh, that’s an improvement, she can actually direct her gaze now. Why is this girl trying to talk to her? Somehow, apparently, it’s not obvious from how limply she’s sitting here that she’s been drugged, though that still doesn’t explain why anyone would be trying to make friends in a situation like this.
She manages a grunt in reply, hoping that will discourage the girl from talking to her further.
It doesn’t. The girl frowns, eyes flicking over Kamaria’s body. “He said something about you being able to move. Did they…give you something? Can you not speak?”
How she’s expected to answer that question, she doesn’t know. Not wanting to waste the energy on another meaningless noise, she just looks away and starts focusing on moving her fingers again.
The girl falls silent for a moment, and Kamaria nearly forgets she’s there. Then she suddenly gasps, and scoots herself a little closer. “Oh! I saw your fingers move! That’s a good sign, right?”
It is a good sign, but she wants more. She wants to pull the knife out of her corset and fight her way out of this place and get back to camp before the number of lashes she’s owed increases any more.
When she doesn’t get any kind of acknowledgement, the girl leans back against the wall with a sigh. “They’re going to sell us, I think. That’s what everyone in here says. We’ll be slaves, or…something worse.” There’s a note of dread in her voice. “I’m really scared. I’ve never…been with a man before, I’m not even old enough to get married yet. And it’s not like I don’t want to, someday, but…not like this . I just…want to go back home. I want to see my mother and father again.”
Kamaria can feel the girl’s gaze turn on her. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be putting all that on you right away, you just got here. I’m sure you’re scared, you don’t need me making it worse.”
Part of Kamaria wishes the girl would shut up and quit talking to her. Aren’t there plenty of others in here she could babble to, instead? Why pick her, of all people?
On the other hand, she finds herself fascinated by how…normal the girl seems. It dawns on her that she’s never actually properly met a human girl before now. The only human females she’s met at all are soldiers, and those either pretend she doesn’t exist, or look down their noses at her like she’s some kind of uncivilized creature.
And human males , well…she supposes most of those that she’s met are soldiers, too, but she won’t give the male civilians the benefit of the doubt. Murderers and perverts, the lot of them. She’d always subconsciously assumed that human females would all be as repulsive as the males, but maybe there are actually some good ones out there.
“You’re not human, are you?” The girl’s voice interrupts Kamaria’s thoughts once again, and she prepares herself to have to change her mind about human females once again now that this subject is arising.
“Your ears…” The girl’s hand, not shackled like Kamaria’s, comes up as if she’s going to reach out and touch the points, but she pulls it back and Kamaria breathes a sigh of relief. “They’re so cute! I’ve never gotten to meet someone that wasn’t human before, even though I’ve heard a lot about the other races. My village is boring, we never get visitors or anything. When you can talk again, I’d love to hear all about who you are!”
In the meantime, the girl - Merina, she has to remind herself even after it’s mentioned again - does all the talking herself. She won’t shut up. There’s a whole room full of women, but she chooses the one who can’t speak to chatter to - probably purposely.
Though at one point in the one-sided conversation, she stops and apologizes. “Sorry if I’m being annoying. My father always says I talk too much. I just…don’t want you to feel alone and scared, and since you can’t move or speak right now, I’m not sure how else to keep you company.”
Kamaria…doesn’t know what to do with that. Why would this stranger care whether she feels alone and scared? She’d much prefer to be alone, truthfully, and she’ll never in a hundred years admit to being scared. But the fact that this girl wants her to be as comfortable as possible is…strange.
She doesn’t know what to do with it, so she ignores it. Feeling is coming back slowly across her body. She can move her face, her fingers, her toes, then eventually her legs and arms start to twitch, too. Merina comments excitedly on every development she notices.
At some point she’s pretty certain she could make words work, but they’d probably be slurred and she doesn’t really know what to say, anyway. ‘ Hello, my name is Kamaria, but no one has called me that in fourteen years’ ? ‘If you ever call my ears cute again I’ll stab you’ ?
So she throws all her energy into moving her arms, dragging them up further into her lap and closer together. The first thing she has to do if she’s going to fight her way out of here is to get her hands free. That’s not a maneuver she’s ever tried before - escaping restraints is generally only good for getting even more punishment from Roderick. But she’s thought about it before, knows how she can do it.
There is something she can say to Merina, after all. “How of’en…do they come?” The last thing she needs is for their captors to show up and find her free of her restraints but not yet ready to fight.
Merina blinks at her in surprise. “You can…! Um…the, the men? Not very often. It’s hard to tell the passage of time in here, but our best guess is once a day. Unless they’re bringing in someone new, like you, but I doubt they’ll do that again today.”
Perfect. Positioning her hands, she pauses, giving herself another minute to build up strength before she goes for it.
“So…what’s your name?”
Of course the girl is still trying to make friends. She’s not telling her a name that hasn’t been uttered aloud in over a decade, though, and she refuses to fully accept Cora.
“Shadow.” It’s better than either of the alternatives. And if the girl somehow makes the connection to the persona assigned to her assassinations, it hardly matters.
“Shadow,” Merina repeats. She definitely doesn’t believe it’s a real name, based on her tone of voice, but she isn’t questioning it, either. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but…obviously we’d both rather not be here.”
Bracing herself, Kamaria yanks on her right thumb until it dislocates with an audible pop.
Merina’s eyes go wide. “What did you do ?” Her gaze is drawn down to where Kamaria is wiggling her hand out of the manacle, blanching when it’s released and she can see the misshapen thumb. “Doesn’t that hurt ?”
Kamaria just shrugs. Technically yes, but when you have the experience she does, a dislocated finger hardly registers. She twists it back into place, shakes out her hand, and immediately starts on the next one. Merina watches the whole thing in horrified fascination.
As soon as she’s free of the manacles on her wrists, she turns her attention to the ones on her ankles. Unfortunately, these aren’t easy to slip out of. There’s a keyhole, though. She slips the knife out of her corset to another gasp from Merina and starts picking at the lock.
“You have a knife. Why do you have a knife?”
“I had nine. This is the only one he missed.”
“ Nine …?”
Kamaria doesn’t care what conclusions Merina is drawing about her right now. All that matters is whether or not she can unlock these shackles, and it’s looking like the answer will be no. She’s picked a lot of locks in her lifetime, but this knife is certainly not the ideal tool for it.
But that’s fine. She can make do. She’ll attack whoever shows up and take their keys, then she’ll be able to make a run for it back to camp.
A trickle of guilt goes through her at the thought of leaving all these women and girls behind. She doesn’t understand why it’s there, but shoves it aside with the promise that she’ll tell her father about the men when she gets back. As Ethorcon’s military, they’ll surely want to take care of illegal slave trading.
Replacing the knife, she begins pushing herself to her feet, still a bit unsteady but forcing her limbs to cooperate, regardless.
“What are you doing?”
Kamaria glances down at Merina. “Leaving.”
The girl gives a laugh that sounds maybe nervous. “I’m not sure how you think you’re going to do that…”
She has no desire to stop and explain it to her. There’s no telling when the men will be back, and she still has to walk through the long room with shackles on her feet. If she’s not at the door by the time it opens, she’ll lose her only chance.
So she ignores the question and starts the trek. Suddenly, she’s aware that every single eye in the room is on her. The center of attention is the last place she ever wants to be, but right now she just has to ignore it. Some of the women shuffle their feet out of her way as she passes, others just stare at her as she gingerly steps over them. The clanking of the chain between her ankles grates at her nerves. She’s not used to not being able to move silently.
At the other end of the room, she does the obvious first and tries the door, already knowing it will be locked but not wanting to assume, just in case. Then she plants herself right next to it, back to the wall and knife in hand.
She’s still not quite herself. The last of the drug must be making its way out of her system, because she still feels sluggish, like every movement takes a second longer than it should to get from her brain to her limbs. It’s certainly not the ideal conditions to be fighting in, and these men have already beaten her once.
But she has surprise on her side this time. They won’t come prepared with drugs, surely, and only one will come through the door at a time. She’d almost had them beaten before, so even if they come while she’s still recovering and even with her feet restrained, she’s confident.
Time passes slowly, but long waits are nothing new for Kamaria. She spends the time running through all her possible first moves in her head, and moving as much as she can without leaving her place in an attempt to get the rest of the drug through her faster.
Then there’s the distinct sound of a key in a lock. Immediately she ceases all movement, poised and ready to strike. As soon as the door opens and a figure appears in the gap, she finds her target and jabs with the knife. His eyes go wide as he falls to his knees, blood flowing from his throat, then face plants into the room.
A chorus of gasps echoes across the group, along with a couple of shrieks from the women closest to the body. “Shut up !” Kamaria hisses. The last thing she needs is a bunch of fragile cowards giving away her escape.
She takes a quick glance out the door and doesn’t see anyone coming, so she quickly drags the man further inside and shuts it behind him, ignoring the way the women scrunch their feet up away from him and stare at her like she’s the monster in this situation. All she needs are the keys, which are still in his hand. Prying them away, she sits and starts trying each key on the ring into her shackles, rushing and keeping an ear out for any noises outside the door at the same time.
It takes far too long. But eventually, she finds the right one, and the manacles click open. Kamaria breathes a quick sigh of relief as she tugs them off, dropping both the chains and the keys by the body and standing. If anyone else wants to grab the keys and try to make their own escape, they’re welcome to. She doesn’t have time to deal with them herself.
Pressing her ear against the door, she listens for a moment before easing it open a crack and peering out. When she doesn’t see anyone, she opens it a little more, and a little more, until she’s certain that it’s safe to make her move. There’s no time to waste. She doesn’t look back or hesitate any further, just sets her sights in the direction of the forest and bolts. She’ll figure out where exactly she is once she’s far enough away.
They seem to be in a compound of sorts, multiple small buildings dotting the landscape, though not enough to be considered a town. Kamaria barely sees them from the corners of her eyes as she runs in the opposite direction. She tries to skirt the edges of the area, hoping to remain unnoticed, but in the end, it’s wide open and there’s not much to do to hide. Soon enough, she hears shouts start up somewhere behind her.
It’s fine, though. They can shout all they want, but if she can make it to the trees, she’ll be in familiar territory and she can outrun them. The forest is more like home to her than anywhere else.
A gun fires. Her heart jolts in her chest, but she doesn’t miss a step. Almost there…almost there…
A few more shots, then pain is slicing through her calf. The leg buckles beneath her and she falls forward, catching herself on her hands. Seconds later and she’s up again, pushing forward, eyes fixed on the trees just ahead despite the fire eating through her leg with every off-balance step.
It doesn’t matter. The delay and the slowed pace is enough for her captors to close the distance, one of them grabbing onto her arm and swinging her around. She swings the knife at his face, but he blocks, and an instant later three more men are on top of her, practically tackling her to the ground. Her arm is pinned down and the knife wrenched away. Kamaria squirms beneath them, but there are too many of them for her to fight off.
“What were you thinking, shooting her? We can’t sell her with a gaping hole in her!”
“Would you rather her have escaped? She’ll miss the next sale, sure, but she’ll be ready in a few weeks. Your other option was to lose the most valuable piece of merchandise we’ve ever picked up, so…you’re welcome.”
Despair is trying to find its way above the thick layer of anger that she wears like armor. She had one chance, and she was so close . They won’t make things so easy for her from now on. Even if she does make it out, her punishment for being late is growing harsher by the hour, but deep down she knows…she may not make it out of this now.
As they yank her to her feet and drag her back toward the compound, Kamaria stares back at the forest with fear that she can’t quite crush growing inside of her.