The Sorcerer's Concubine (The Telepath and the Sorcerer Book 1) (10 page)

“You’re not making me feel any better. What do you really know about relationships, Grau? Velsa has no choice but to be with you.”

“I’m trying to comfort you, Preya! You think my relationship has been simple? More like a tragedy that I can’t unsee.”

Velsa stiffened, and he took her hand in a reassuring grasp as he continued, “Now that I know that Fanarlem think and feel just as potently as we do, the whole world seems like an evil place, and I have no power to do anything about it. I can’t free her. She has nowhere to go. I can’t free the servants we have at home. Where would
they
go? And I can’t go around telling everyone the truth. Most of them won’t even believe me.”

Preya’s lashes shaded her eyes. “Oh, Grau,” she said. “I’m supposed to be the pessimist between us.”

None of them cared to dance, after that, but Grau insisted they stick it out a little longer so they didn’t seem to be running off in shame.

Velsa wilted with relief when they finally made it back to the canoe. Grau and Preya both seemed a little drunk—they had made liberal use of the bar, to Velsa’s dismay, since she wasn’t strong enough to paddle the canoe all the way home by herself.

“You’d better not tip us over,” Velsa said, when Preya stumbled to her seat.

“I’m okay. I just dunno the way home.”

“I could navigate…these waters…in my sleep,” Grau said.

“But you’re not asleep. You’re drunk,” Velsa said. “So I hope you know what you’re doing. It’s cold out here, and remember, if I get wet, my stuffing will warp out of place.”

Grau pulled himself together a little. “I’ll get you home safe and sound, bellora. I promise.”

Indeed, he had no trouble finding his way through the moonlit waters. Despite the damp cold, the marsh under a starry sky was one of the most beautiful things Velsa had ever seen. It was so very lonely, and she wanted nothing more than to be lost in a sea of shining, living grass, far away from the world, with the only two people she truly cared for. The dance seemed very small and inconsequential under the bowl of stars.

T
he next day
, Grau’s father came home from his daily business. He entered with furrowed brows, furious eyes, and a deadly quiet settled upon his shoulders like a mist.

“All of you,” he said, “come to the dining room,
now
.”

“What’s wrong?” Grau’s mother asked.

Grau’s father was looking through the bookshelf, pulling out a stack of the pamphlets; the ones Grau had brought home and many others besides. He flipped through them until he found the one he was seeking, and then he went to the dining room.

They all had worried expressions, but Grau and Preya especially. Cold fear trailed down Velsa’s spine.

“I need to read this to you all,” Grau’s father said. “‘A Treatise on Fanarlem.’”

Grau put his arm around her.

“Grau, I wouldn’t do that right now if I were you,” his father said.

Grau only moved closer to her. “What is this about?” he demanded.

“What is this
about
? The entire town is talking about you and her. That’s what it’s about. They’re saying you wish to have Velsa as your
wife
.”

Velsa’s arms tightened, almost involuntarily, around her waist.
Grau’s father won’t send me away,
she thought.
He paid for me. But what could he do? Sell me to someone else?
Her mind raced over possibilities.

Preya dropped her head into her hand. “It’s my fault,” she said. “It was an offhand comment. I just didn’t want the girls to see Velsa like she was a whore.”

“Well, then, you were really stupid, Preya,” Grau’s father said. “I understand that Velsa is likable, but it doesn’t matter if
you
like her. There are people in this town who would harm her and your brother if they thought he saw her as a wife. You can’t take your friendship with Velsa outside of this house ever again.”

In a strange way, Velsa wondered if he was trying to protect her. It didn’t feel like any consolation. She watched the pamphlet waving in his hand.

“I have never regretted anything so deeply as offering Grau the gift of this girl,” he continued. “I expected her to be servile, and she is not. I understand the temptation to welcome her into the family as if she is a whole person, but we all need to heed these words.”

He opened the pamphlet. “‘The race of Fanarlem was created centuries ago. Although the original intent was to create a better way of reviving the dead, the true and fated purpose of Fanarlem were soon revealed.

‘Fanarlem bodies are fate’s way of cleansing the evil in our souls. When Fanarlem are called to be born, the weakest souls are attracted to the call. These are the souls of sinners. These are the souls who have condemned themselves by the misdeeds of their past. But in becoming Fanarlem, they are granted a chance to save themselves with servitude.

‘You may be tempted to feel pity or sorrow, when faced with the sight of the Fanarlem laborer. But remember, they brought this suffering upon themselves, and indeed, they do not suffer as you or I would. They feel no hunger, pain or cold. Their greatest pain is loneliness, but surely this is a fair burden for them to bear.

‘The more a Fanarlem can adopt an attitude of agreeable servitude, the more they will find their work pleasant and their days easy to bear, and the sooner they will purify their souls for the next world. They will be reborn to greater happiness.

‘No, do not pity the Fanarlem—only take them as a warning, to take care in your actions in this life.’”

He turned the page, as if to continue. Grau shoved his chair back and stood. “It isn’t true,” he said.

“You think you know more about how the world works than Lord Jherin?”

“Where is the proof?” Grau demanded. “Where is the
proof
?”

“Kalan Jherin is the Wodrenarune,” his father said. “And Fanarlem
do
have damaged souls.”

“And Miralem believe there is a goddess sleeping in the moon. We believe the fates speak to the Wodrenarune—well, I did believe it, but I’m not so sure anymore. Velsa isn’t a condemned soul.”

“There is no way you could possibly know that,” his father said. “She has been given the guise of a pretty young woman, but we have no way of knowing what is in her soul. Sometimes I find the expression in her eyes to be quite rebellious.”

“Stop it.” Grau slammed his hands on the table. “I really don’t care what Kalan Jherin says. I know what my gut says. I know the sinking feeling in my stomach that says I’ve done something wrong. I felt it when I bought her, and I felt it the other night when you told me I needed to bed her.”

“You do need to bed her.”

“Well, I
did,
all right? So
enough
.”

Preya’s eyes widened.

Grau shook his head. “And even so, how do we know that souls are really purified by slavery?”

“Whether or not we choose to believe it, everyone in town will believe it. The law believes it. You can’t talk of marriage and love. You can’t bring Velsa to a gathering if she isn’t going to behave with the submission everyone expects of her. You need to show your place versus hers. Have her fetch your drink, hold your drink. Reprimand her if she speaks out of turn.” He stood. “It pains me to punish my children, but for your own good, you must remember this day. Velsa is spending the night in the servant’s hut, and Preya, I will deal with you in a moment.”

“Oh, Garen,” Grau’s mother said with distress, but she didn’t intervene.

“The servant’s hut?” Grau cried. “She doesn’t belong in that dirty hovel.”

“If you are really so concerned about the welfare of Fanarlem, then you can spend the night there with her,” his father said. He stood and grabbed Velsa’s arm. “I’m sorry, but it has to be this way. I’m not risking our wealth and safety over this.”

He dragged her out of the room. After a few steps she picked up her pace, so he was not tugging on her. It was no use resisting.

Outside, the sky was full of stars and a moon that shone on the grasses. Tonight its solitary beauty was foreboding. He hustled her down a path and she kept tripping in the darkness. He led her to a one-room stone hut, barely in view of the house. From the outside, it was dark, and had no chimney.

He threw the door open. In a dim and drafty room, two Fanarlem sat at a table around a single candle, playing a game of cards. The one Velsa had seen sweeping Grau’s floor was now smoking a cigarette. Just as Velsa could taste before she could eat, she supposed they could also smoke, although she had never seen such a thing. A bed stood on each side. Some gardening tools hung on the wall, and there was another table with a few books and baubles. The walls were painted pale pink with flowers, and that was about the only cheery thing about the place.

“She will stay with you tonight,” Grau’s father said. “Don’t damage her. Her body is expensive.” 

He pushed her in with them and shut the door.

Velsa drew back against the wall. The two Fanarlem didn’t say anything. Now that she could compare the two, she thought the one she had seen before was female. Her face and eyes had a softer, more feminine appearance.

“Sleep on the floor,” the female one said. Her high voice confirmed her gender, but her tone was harsh.

Velsa sat on the ground in the corner, trying to hide in the shadows.

“You’re the youngest son’s whore, aren’t you?” the woman said.

Velsa shook her head, and then moved to the window. Where was Grau? Surely he wouldn’t leave her here for long?

She waited for long moments, watching the moonlit path. 

Maybe she could find a place outside to go for the night…but the dew would seep into her skin, and insects might crawl between her stitches… Her stuffing was supposed to be repellent, but she didn’t care to test that.

Even here, she wasn’t sure she was safe from perils. The hut was clean, but it didn’t feel inhabited, and the walls and doors and windows obviously weren’t fitted tight. Maybe no place truly seemed lived in without flesh and blood people inside.

“Aren’t you a whore, though?” the woman pressed after a while. “Do you think you’re too fine to talk to us?”

“N-no,” Velsa said. “Not at all. I would talk to you…I just didn’t think you wanted me to.”

“I’m not a pampered little bitch.”

“We work hard for our redemption,” the man added.

Velsa turned back to the window. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from the other Fanarlem. Empathy? Kinship? Then again, she’d been here for over a week and had never sought them out. She was much happier spending her days as part of a Daramon family. She didn’t want to admit that she was afraid of them, that she found the sight of them repellent—it wasn’t their fault, but it was true. They must sense her aversion. No wonder they hated her.

They kept playing cards as if she wasn’t there at all. She heard them slapping down their moves, occasionally murmuring about their turns, the sound of their lips drawing on the cigarette as they passed it back and forth between them.

She waited, but outside there was only the lonely fields. She watched the moon climb the sky, placing all her focus on it. It seemed so far away.

One of the Fanarlem blew out the candle, plunging the room into darkness. They climbed into their beds without a word to her or each other.

“Are you going to sit down, girl?” the woman said. “Too accustomed to having pillows and feather mattresses wasted on your bones?”

“No…”

The woman threw off her blanket, coming right up to Velsa. “Yes, I saw you the other night, so pleased with yourself. Grau’s little toy. I suppose you think I’m hideous. You’re lucky the master told me not to damage you, and I heed my masters, or I’d carve your pretty face to shreds.”

Velsa turned away, groping in the darkness for the door. She would rather wander all night than spend another moment here, if Grau wasn’t coming. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t come.

The ground now had a light coating of frost, which sparkled in the moonlight. The wind was blowing steadily. She yearned for a cloak. The wind was harsh, almost painful on her cheeks.

She felt a little better when she stood between the hut and the house, and both were a distance away. Now, it was just her and the lonely land.

But it wasn’t really lonely at all. She had felt all the life inside of it, holding the crystal. Grau had learned to feel it at any time. All of its whispers, all of its breath and warmth and memory, was still there whether she felt it or not.

She remembered the way he had drawn warmth from the hay that had spent time in the sun. She walked to the edge of the path, and held her hands out to the grass that stood chest-high, growing in shallow puddles.

“Help me,” she whispered. “Can you hear me?”

The grasses sighed in the wind.

She looked up to the moon. “Am I really a cursed soul?”

The land and sky offered no answer, but she already felt that she had an answer for herself.

No. No, I am not.

If this was true, her life seemed a cruel joke. She thought of herself, pinned beneath Grau, how she felt not just desire but an intense hunger for safety. It was the best she could hope for, being Grau’s possession. She believed that their connection was real, but it would always be tainted by circumstance.

The Fanarlem woman in the hut was so quick with her cruelty. And why not, if she had no comforts herself? Velsa might be bitter too. Being created to be desired had indeed given her a potential advantage. But would it end here? Could she be anything more than this?

What would it feel like to belong only to herself?

She wanted to smack Preya, that she would even consider marrying a man she couldn’t be attracted to, when she might go to Nalim Ima and build her own life—a choice Velsa could never have.

She didn’t want to go any closer to the house, so she turned down a path and began to wander, knowing she might get lost. It didn’t seem frightening, to be lost. She couldn’t die that way. It was the cities that would harm her—the people. Not the wilds. She briefly imagined what it would be like to simply disappear into the marsh, to live endlessly. She would know every inch of it, eventually; she would be able to do sorcery here without a crystal. People in the town would spot her, once in a while, before she disappeared, and they would tell legends about her. They might think she was a nature spirit over time.

The plants and the waters, the toads and snakes and birds, were all beautiful.

But they could not offer her friendship.

And besides
, she thought, her thoughts turning practical,
it’s too wet out here.
 

Still, she wandered. It wouldn’t hurt to be lost for a time.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been when she heard someone running. She turned and saw a light in the distance, the way she had came.

She crouched in the grasses, ready to hide, but as the voice got closer, it called her name.

She stood up again. “Grau?”

“What are you doing out here?” He ran to her and pulled her into an embrace. “Velsa, I thought you ran away.” He stopped. “Maybe you are running away.”

“Not from you. But where
were
you?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come after you right away. Preya was crying and my mother was yelling and Agrin was telling me I’d better not mess with Papa right now and—well, then I did come and you were gone. I’ve been frantic trying to track you.” He spread his hand on the back of her head, still clutching her close. “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe all those things about Fanarlem souls. I’m sorry I ever believed it.”

“I’m not. You wouldn’t have ever bought me if you didn’t believe it.”

“I’m going to prove it’s not true.”

She looked at him uncertainly. “How?”

“I don’t know yet, but there must be some way.”

She didn’t really believe him. “I’m not sure it would matter. How many people would want it to be true? What about all the other Fanarlem? What could be done with them?” She smoothed his jacket. “It’s enough for me to know that you believe it.”

“I’m taking you away tonight,” he said. “We would be leaving soon anyway. I know my father is trying to protect the family but he should never have said all that to you. Still…we’ll have to be careful. I can’t expect we’ll find better attitudes anywhere else we go.”