Ortai Legacy

8 - Thrall (L)

A knock at the bathroom door made me jump. Why bother knocking when they had magic?

"Harker left." It was Mark—Mar'kost—the alien who'd invaded my dreams for months. "You can come out now."

My breath caught in my throat. When he came in, could I make a run for it? Maybe, but he was fast. He would grab me before I made it to the balcony. I had to wait until he left or fell asleep.

After a few moments, Mar'kost spoke again. "I'm coming in, Liza. If you're undressed, put on a robe. Ten... nine..."

Every number was another stab of pain in my lungs. I desperately wanted to run or fight, but that would only get me tied up. I needed to play dumb, be the lunatic they thought I was.

The bathroom door opened and shut. Footsteps sounded on tile.

"Liza?" Mar'kost stepped closer. His shadow passed over the crack in the closet door. He opened it, letting light flood in. Crouching, he let out an exasperated sigh. "What are you doing? Don't put your hand in your mouth. It's filthy." He grabbed my arm and pulled it away from my face. Frowning, he ran his fingers over my damp fist.

Trying not to shiver, I slipped my hand from his grip. Now was the moment. How ould I convince him that I hadn't realized this was real? "Have you ever thought of auto-canabalism? Like, obviously you would lose a lot of blood, but what if you managed to magically ingest any lost blood--would you end up with more or less mass after eating an arm?"

He gaped at me. "Don't eat your arm."

"I wasn't actually going to do it. It's just a hypothetical."

"Stop." He shook his head. "You need to listen. This is reality. If you don't treat it as such, you will die."

"Sure." I winked. "Anyway, what's for dinner?"

"I'll bring you dinner. I don't want you making a scene in the dining hall."

"Sounds good. I'll hang out in the closet. Hey, this is a little cramped. Is your closet bigger?"

"Yes, but-"

I rushed out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, which was split in half by curtains. On the right half was a normal bed, but the left half featured a Raeve-sized bed. My chest panged, but I forced myself to stay quiet until the lump in my throat dissolved the smallest bit.

"Oh, this is why you didn't tell Raeve we're together. Are you two married or just dating?" I turned back to him, surveying the room. There were no windows, but the sight of my polearm in the corner by the door gave me a spark of hope.

"We're not courting."

"Yeah, I got that when you pretended not to know me. But what about you and Raeve?"

He stiffened. "I didn't mean you and I aren't courting. I meant Raeve and I aren't."

"Then you're married and I'm the mistress?" Forcing a smile, I did finger guns at him. "You know, I think that's some people's fantasy. Never been mine, but I'm up to trying it out in a dream. Sorry, in 'reality.'"

His tail flicked back and forth. "I'm not romantically involved with Raeve in any way."

"Don't worry; I'm not mad. I'll just make another one of you so Raeve and I can both have one." Grinning like a madwoman, I ducked in the closet. "Nice, roomy." I turned around and sat with my back against the laundry hamper. "This is much better than the linen closet."

Mar'kost stood in the closet doorway, staring down at me. "You can't make another me."

"Why not?"

"This isn't-"