The TwiceBorn

On The Edge Of The Great Perhaps

"The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?"---Edgar Allan Poe

Syrus sucked in an unsteady breath.

Perhaps he'd been too hasty.

If he kept her and bred her, he might earn back her selling price several times over if she bore any little blonde girls that looked like her. Or even little blonde boys. Woolsey wasn't the only poof out there and pretty little blond boys brought in coin as well.

Especially when most of the slaves lately had been out of the Dust Canyons, out past the Dragon Range. They were all a dark-skinned swarthy bunch that worked and fucked with a single-minded intensity to the point you couldn't tell one from the other but this girl----

High coin. Purentee high coin.

Never mind the hands clenched into fists or the firm line of her jaw or the way her eyes flashed angrily as she stared off into the treeline...she could be as angry as she wanted, it wouldn't change a thing.

Hack gave a low whistle of appreciation. Syrus glanced at him and they exchanged a look. The words didn't need to be said. They wouldn't be leaving the camp without her.

Syrus felt his heart give a sudden stutter then stall. A sense of excitement moved through him, weary and seldom, but becoming more alert as he realized what this exact moment was. One of those defining moments, he'd heard other people talk about in their life.

He'd always thought it was bullshit. You simply did not stick your legs in your trousers one at a time, and head out to the field,the tavern,or where ever the fuck you spent your days and just suddenly saw everything all rosy and brand-new. He'd walked the earth long enough to know that and he made sure Hack knew that too, raising him up.

But this girl...

She could change everything for them both. Sell her,breed her,it didn't matter; it came down to what the world ran on and that was coin. And Syrus knew he was looking at a lot of it. They could tell their stories about the demon whore all they wanted, shit, he might start telling them too if he decided to sell, it would sure drive her price up but...

Behrin. Behrin IS real, no doubts there...

"So...how's Behrin is all of this?" Syrus asked, his eyes never moving off of Islinn.

"She belongs to him. And he wants her back." The drunkard's words were short. Syrus could hear the anger in them. He smiled his twisted smile.

"Well now...this is right interestin. If she's so 'portant to him, what was she doing with the demon whore in the first place?"

"He sold her." Gre sighed. "He was angry, The Twiceborn was in the marketplace and she bought her. Who the fuck knows? Anyway, we were sent to bring her back. And that's what we're going to do."