Burning Little Lies
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“I’m a little confused by this, you know,” the woman said. Her accent was vaguely foreign. “You say I’ve got to be ready to do anything. You give me all these rules. Then we come out here and… nothing’s happening.”
The girl had been working on some kind of puzzle in front of her but now she looked up from it with an expression that might have been anger if not for the fact that there were tears streaming down her face.
The man who’d introduced himself as “Master Jules” sat next to her, looking at her with an inscrutable smile. He leaned toward her, speaking softly, “We’re only halfway through our lesson, dearie. It’s always darkest before dawn. And we’ll get to work right after—”
A knife flashed through the air and slammed into his side, throwing him backward. Blood sprayed the wall behind him; he landed hard on his back, clutching his wound. A moment later another knife hit the ground where his head had just been, sending a spray of blood across the room.
The two boys who’d brought them here—who’d made their introductions with “We are your servants”—had both disappeared instantly. Now they were back, one of them stepping over Jules’ body to reach the girl, who still stood frozen between the table and the wall.
One boy held her arms while the other grabbed her hair, lifting her off her feet. She fought briefly, then went limp, kicking and screaming, trying desperately to break free but too weak to make any progress.
“Let go! Let go!” the girl screamed. But even as she cried the boy holding her laughed. “It’s a pity she can’t hear you,” he said. Then they threw her against the wall, where she landed with a thud. There was no sound or movement for several seconds; the girl lay motionless. They picked her up and carried her away; the other boy followed them silently.
Now I see why they don’t want us moving about, thought Rasha, looking around the room. It was large enough that it would have taken most people at least thirty seconds to clear the room. That gave us perhaps five seconds if we moved quickly.
“What do we do?” asked the woman, who had begun shaking violently, her eyes wide open and fixed in terror.
“Don’t worry, darlin’,” said the voice from earlier, leaning forward. “You’ll get used to it, and so will he, though he won’t be nearly as easy as you. In time, he’ll learn that the best thing is to stay quiet and let you do as you wish.”
Then the voice was gone. The lights flickered once more; when they came back on, Rasha saw that Master Jules was gone, along with the girl and all traces of blood or injury. Everything else in the room was untouched. “That’s the point, child, remember that,” whispered the unseen voice, and then the lights went out again.
Rasha heard footsteps approaching. “Come, sweetheart. It’s time to begin.”
And then the lights came back on. “You may leave,” the man told Rasha and the woman. “But do not attempt to escape. Our guards will find you wherever you flee; in addition, we’ll be watching carefully. As for our lesson today, we’ll start with what’s inside you.” He reached toward the woman, who screamed and jumped away from him.
He pulled back his hand; she whimpered. He looked at her curiously. “Why are you so afraid? We’ve done this hundred of times already. Are you so fragile that you’re scared of a little touch?”
She shrank back farther, looking at the floor. “I… I…” She glanced at Rasha for help. “There was a time I could stand it. But lately… I haven’t gotten much sleep. My body’s worn down, and now—”
“Ah, yes,” said the man, smiling gently at the woman. “Well, you need not worry about it. Soon you’ll feel fine; you’ll forget all about how you felt when you first came.” Then he turned to Rasha. “Are you ready, my darling?”
“Yes,” Rasha nodded.
They walked through another door; a short passage led to a larger chamber with a table and chairs, where three men and a woman sat in conversation. They were dressed like the others who had brought them here; except that the woman wore a necklace of human teeth.
The man who spoke was wearing robes similar to those Rasha had seen on Master Jules but without a hood, and his hair was dark, almost black. His skin had a slight yellowish tinge to it, as though the color of his flesh was fading.
The others were also young but seemed more solid-looking than Master Jules had appeared to be, with more muscle definition in their faces and bodies. Their hair was dark brown to black and curly, and their skin was darker.
All four were thin as well, though they were obviously physically fit; their eyes were piercing yet kind, and there was something strangely familiar about the expressions they wore.
Master Jules had been pale by comparison; these were very different individuals altogether, with none of his weaknesses.
The man with the yellowish complexion smiled at Rasha and the woman, then addressed the group: “This is the second part of our training course. You’ll soon understand why we have arranged it thus.”
To Rasha and the woman, he added, “Your names are not important; we’ll call each of you whatever we choose to use from now on. And we’ll give you new ones as well, which must follow the same pattern. This way, our enemies will never know your true identity if they happen to get close enough to ask. Is that understood?”
All three nodded; the woman said, “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now, my darling—let’s have a look at you.” The man reached over the table, and the woman screamed.
“Stop!” shouted Rasha, jumping forward.
The man stopped abruptly, and his eyes snapped up to meet Rasha’s. “You will not touch her unless we permit it.”
“No! Don’t hurt me!” She began to weep. “Let go of me!”
Rasha stared at Master Jules’ killer; it was clear to him that this man knew what he was doing. Rasha was no coward, but neither did he want to die tonight. He didn’t have much choice anyway. There were two of them against one child.
As far as the man was concerned, the rules were simple: “You obey us or we kill you.”
It was a simple matter to overpower the man, who was only half Rasha’s size and had lost his balance. When the other three lunged toward Rasha, however, his mind flashed with sudden panic. These weren’t people he could fight. He had fought enough times to know that. Even if the odds were in his favor, it wouldn’t change things – he’d still lose.
Instead, Rasha ran past the men and the woman and made for the stairs.
The stairway curved upward sharply into darkness. He heard shouting behind him. In addition to his fear, Rasha felt a surge of elation as he realized that the man would not be able to pursue him without stumbling and losing his grip.
He ran up the stairs until he reached a landing where a set of double doors stood open, leading outside onto a wide terrace overlooking the city. It was evening; the sun had long since sunk below the horizon, casting everything in shadow except for the buildings across the river.
The terrace was covered with thick grass and dotted with trees; at nightfall, torches lit the walkways that crisscrossed the space. A few people were wandering around, some of them walking slowly and looking at the stars overhead, while others were sitting together in small clusters and talking.
There were no guards here; it was probably because the place was so large that the inhabitants hadn’t needed to bother. From above, it looked just like a park.
At least there wasn’t any sign of the boy; perhaps he had gotten tired of following and decided to take a nap somewhere nearby. The thought cheered him up. If he had found some other hiding place, at least the little rat would stay safe.
With his heart pounding hard and sweat dripping down his forehead, Rasha hurried along the edge of the terrace and back toward the building. Once within sight of its door, he slowed suddenly.
His breath came fast and short, and his heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to scream for help or run away, but all he could do was stand there frozen, his hands shaking.
Then he saw the boy approaching quickly from beyond the bushes.
The creature stopped suddenly when he caught sight of Rasha; Rasha froze even further. For an instant, he saw himself in his son’s eyes. Then the monster smiled, and the resemblance vanished.
The End