MCAH Online

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      “Ah, good morning. Early morning, that would be.”
      Reese didn’t recognize the voice, male and baritone with an indescribable, open-throated accent, one that didn’t linger long on consonants. She forced her eyelids apart and found herself staring straight into hair like poured milk and eyes the color of an expensive merlot.
      She groaned, though whether from the throbbing at her temple or the situation was debatable. Both, probably. “You!” she croaked.
      “Hush. You’ll wake the others.” Hirianthial glanced to the side, giving her an excellent view of his profile. There was a purple bruise marring the hard line of his cheekbone. “They are roughly in your condition or better, but they are all still unconscious.”
      “The others? Sascha? Bryer? Irine?”
      “I count two Harat-Shar and one Phoenix. Is that sufficient?”
      Reese scowled, then closed her eyes when the bump on her head sent another lance of pain through her temple. “Curse it all. I knew something was going on with this place. Where are the guards?” She tried to look to the side but one of her pupils was vying for independence. She closed that one and tried to focus.
      The Eldritch held a finger up over her lips, not touching. “Hush. They’ll hear you, lady. We’re underground, where they keep prisoners.”
      “Underground! Then the jail upstairs—”
      “—is a falsehood.”
      “They did a rotten job of hiding their tracks then,” Reese said. “We knew something was wrong the moment we couldn’t find a real door.”
      “You misunderstand, my lady,” the Eldritch said. “The jail is not intended as a cover. It is meant to intimidate. On that count it is quite the success… the pirates have driven everyone who isn’t part of their operation completely out of this part of town, and the rest of it they own in fact if not in name.”
      “Great,” Reese said, losing what little energy she had. She imagined it bleeding into the ground beneath her tailbone and shoulders. “You were supposed to be in a jail cell we could get you out of for money, not underground in a place pirates hide people they want to make disappear.”
      The Eldritch canted his head, hair hissing against one shoulder. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
      “Yeah, well, I’ll send you a bill,” Reese said, trying to get a hand under herself so she could sit up.
      A hand appeared over her chest, not touching but not moving either. “Ah! Don’t. You’re still gray.”
      “Gray?” Reese asked.
      He frowned. His expressions seemed formed only by the faintest of tugs at his lips or eyes; Reese wondered if all Eldritch were so subtle. “The color of your aura, you might say. Gray’s not an auspicious color to be.”
      His accent was so distractingly pretty that she didn’t actually hear what he said until a few moments later. Or maybe that was her headache, making it too hard to hear past the pounding in her ears. “What the bleeding soil do you know about auras?”
      “I’m Eldritch,” he said, as if that alone explained it. As an afterthought, he added, “I’m also a doctor.”
      “Someone decided a doctor would make a good spy?” Her stomach started burning. Reese fought the desire to laugh, suspecting she would sound hysterical. “Oh, that’s a good one. Whoever sent me on this job… this was not worth the money they gave me six years ago. A doctor!”
      “If you must have your moment of derisive laughter, at very least keep it quieter,” Hirianthial said. “As to my being her choice… I have… talents that made me suitable for the job. But that matter begs me to ask: what are you doing here, looking for me? Who sent you?”
      “As if I know,” Reese said. “Some woman with more money than sense who never gives me her name when she calls and speaks like some fairy princess. I owed her a favor. She said you’d been jailed here and sent me to go get you. I was hoping to just post your bail.”
      Hirianthial laughed, a sound both quiet and despairing. It sent goosebumps down Reese’s arms. “Ah, lady. That is funny. The pirates found me two weeks ago, and for two weeks I have been here in this cell while they wait for the slavers to pick me up. I was as good as sold the moment I was put in irons. They even wash me periodically so I’ll look my best for my future masters. I had to try to earn the few bruises they dealt me… God forfend I look less than pristine for my auction.”
      Reese groaned and closed her eyes, letting her head loll back. “I didn’t sign up for this.”
      “Again, I’m sorry, my lady.”
      “Stop calling me that!” Reese exclaimed. “I’m no lady, and I’m certainly not yours. And as for sorry… sorry! My cargo’s fermenting while we lie here, and it might be vinegar by the time we get out of this. I’m no match for slavers! We have to get out of here before they come for you, or we’re all going to end up some Chatcaavan’s sex-toys in a month. Bending my neck to a dragon wasn’t in my life plan.”
      “I can’t say the thought appeals to me either,” Hirianthial said.
      “You don’t say.” Reese would have rolled her eyes, but the attendant nausea made that a bad idea. “You’re a doctor?”
      “I did say so.”
      “Well then see if the rest are ready to wake up. If we’re lucky we can make it out of here with our bleeding cargo still fresh. If, that is, you’ll let me sit up?”
      The Eldritch’s eyes lost their focus, drifting over her forehead and temples. “Yes,” he said after a moment, then held up a finger. His wine-colored eyes refocused on her face. “But as I tell you.”
      “Fine,” Reese said. “Make it quick.”
      He talked her through it, but it wasn’t quick; just rolling onto her side made her want to vomit up what little there was in her stomach. Still, she made it upright, noticing the hand he’d had hovering behind her back only when he withdrew it. If she’d started to waver, would he have caught her, or would his Eldritch instincts have let her fall? She wanted to spit at the look on his face when they were done, and had no idea what made her angrier… that he looked concerned when he had no right to be concerned as the person responsible for this mess, or that his concern wasn’t obvious enough, since she was the one who was going to drag his sugar-pale backside out of his mess. Blood and freedom, but she hated doctors.
      “Good?” he asked after a moment, eyes resting too directly on her for her comfort.
      “Fine,” Reese said. “Check the others.”
      He studied her for a moment longer, then backed away, leaving her to take stock. Aside from a few scrapes and bruises to complement the mother blooming near her temple, she’d taken no additional harm. Her suit had been slashed across her midriff and upper arms. Her knife was missing as well as her belt; she felt the loss of both coins and chalk tablets. She could have used a chalk tablet right now, in fact… but she could have fared worse.
      Reese watched Hirianthial as he bent over Irine. He drew closer to her than she was accustomed to doctors coming, but he never touched her. After a few moments, he spread his hands above her ribs, as if setting them on a barrier that hovered a few inches above her skin. Though she couldn’t tell whether the Harat-Shar was conscious, the Eldritch was talking, and his soft words were so gently spoken they felt like blankets. It made her want to trust him—no doubt one of his Eldritch mind tricks.
      Reese gritted her teeth and directed her attention to their jail. The ground was packed earth strewn with yellow straw; there were no windows, and a wall of thick metal lattice faced the corridor. In addition to the lattice, she spotted red lights lining their door, indicating an operating halo field… not something she wanted to touch, but something Irine could possibly disarm since it didn’t encompass the entire wall. The air was stale and warm, tinted here and there with earthier scents. Their cell formed the end of the hall; all the other cells were empty. She thought of the cell she’d seen upstairs and the figure lying in the back.

Oh those Eldritch mind-tricks! What’s a girl to do?

The art up there’s an oldie but goodie. :)