The Hidden Crystal

Chapter 48

A teenage girl lay naked and sobbing in a bed. Standing over her was a man easily three times her age, buttoning his shirt and smoothing his short gray hair. He turned away from her with a sneer.

"Make sure you finish your dusting," he said coolly, and then he opened the door and was gone.

She sat up, her blue eyes livid with anger in her puffy, tear-streaked face.

"I'll do more than that," she snapped.

She found her maid uniform, discarded on the floor next to the bed, and pulled it on. Across the room from the bed was a bureau, and on the bureau sat a highly polished jewelry box containing a single item. She carefully opened the top to reveal the apparently plain necklace. A quick glance back at the door confirmed he wasn't returning. Her hands trembled as she pocketed the simple brass chain holding an ovular clear stone. She gathered her cleaning supplies and walked briskly out of the room and down the hall, hanging her head low to hide her face behind a curtain of thick chestnut brown hair.

"Good morning, Iris."

Micah's smug voice invaded the dream and pulled Iris into consciousness. She vaguely remembered him telling her the night before that she would be sharing his room from now on so he could keep a closer eye on her. The mattress shifted beside her, and she opened her eyes, her stomach turning as she looked up at him. He was propped up on an elbow, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger.

"Did you hear the past bearers at all last night?"

"No," she said softly. Her voice wasn't harsh like it usually was after the extraction process. It felt wrong that her voice should sound so normal when the rest of her still ached and burned.

"Any dreams?"

"I saw my mother stealing the amulet."

He chuckled. "Ah, yes, the folly of my late master. I made him tell me everything before I killed him. To keep that amulet in such an insecure location, and to rape the very girl responsible for keeping it polished. I would have been more surprised if she didn't steal it," he scoffed. "And then it took him two years to track her down. She told him she pawned it, and the fool believed her."

"Is she dead?" Iris asked tentatively.

"Of course. He couldn't have anyone knowing about his idiocy, could he?" Micah's fingers slid down to her chest, to the amulet. He picked it up, studying it in the rays of sunshine spilling through the window. "But he was a capable mage and an adequate master. I suppose that is where your power comes from. Mages tend to breed mages, with a few notable exceptions." His cold blue eyes flicked from the amulet to her face. "My parents had no magical ability and still produced three mages."

She didn't turn away as he leaned in and kissed her. Any such movement would mean excruciating pain, and she would have plenty of that soon enough. But, as with his handling of her last night, excluding him digging his fingers into her waist in the courtyard, his kiss this morning was soft and painless. He set the amulet in the center of her chest, pressing it into her lightly, and then his hand glided across her curves as his lips traveled across her face and neck. She held perfectly still, fighting the wave of nausea that swept through her. If she didn't know him, she would think his caresses and kisses were tender, affectionate, even. She did know him, though, and she knew it was all part of his torture, all part of his scheme to maximize her mental torment.

"I'm feeling generous this morning, Iris," he breathed into her ear. "Drop your shield from the fairies so I can summon them, and I'll only kill one of them. The rest will be allowed to tend to you as they did before, and I may consider giving you more time to recover before I continue this."