working on an electrical outlet. She was about his height with a slender, athletic build, and she sported a rather wicked burn scar on her left cheek.
“So, looks like you made nice with Corin,” she commented as he approached. “You want to hand me a decoupler?”
He glanced at the toolbox near her. He had no idea what that could possibly be, but something in her voice…
“You don’t have one,” he said. “Unless this is some local dialect I’m not familiar with.”
She leaned up on an elbow and shot him a cold glare, but after a few seconds her lips broke into a wry smile. “Not bad for a pretty boy.” She extended a hand.
He took it to help her up, and this time the empathic spark came abruptly as their skin touched. He expected a wave of annoyance, but instead he sensed…hope?
“The name’s Shyrah,” she said, breaking his grip, “but you already knew that. I’m sure Corin tried to scare you away, but I have nothing against you, Incubus.”
“He mentioned you had some concerns. They didn’t seem unreasonable.”
She grunted. “Some of the people here think you’re going to save the day—they’re convinced of it. They don’t know how or why or what the hell it even means, but they’re convinced.”
“I don’t really know how I’m going to save anyone,” he admitted. “I’m a whore and a refugee.”
She seemed to size him up for a moment, her blue eyes sharp and focused. Finally she smiled, and decided it was actually quite pleasant.
“So we’re told,” she said. “You do what you need to survive. No one should blame you for that.”
“I’m not sure if I’m staying, but Kronn suggested I give it a few days. I figure I owe him that much, at least.”
“It’s not a glamorous life,” she muttered, her smile fading. “But it is the only one some of us have.”
Damien nodded, a part of him realizing how easy things had been for him. He might have been a slave, but he had never wanted for food or had to live in run-down conditions like this. He had slept in silken sheets and woken to fresh pastries. He hadn’t been beaten or tortured, and he had never really felt like danger was lurking around every corner.
How much worse had many of them had it? What had this woman before him seen in her life that he had probably only had nightmares about? It almost made him sick to think he had turned away from a life most of these people would probably embrace given the chance.
Shyrah sighed. “Look, I know the princess wants you for some reason. Maybe she’s told you or maybe she hasn’t, but whatever it is, be careful. There’s a lot more going on here than she’s letting on, I know that much.”
“I’m sure there is,” he replied distantly.
She measured him again with her eyes, but her face remained unreadable. “I have a lot of work to get done, but I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“It was nice to meet you.”
“Yeah,” she murmured, then grabbed her tools and walked off.
Damien stood there for a while longer before he decided to go and try to meet some of the others. If he was going to fit in here, there was no point in putting it off. Even if he wasn’t…well, he’d still like to know as much as possible before he made that decision.
***
“It’s not the best way to get him acclimated to life here,” Sariel pointed out, lowering the data reader and closing her eyes. “And what if something goes wrong?”
“I don’t think we have a choice,” Kronn said. “We might not get another opportunity like this.”
It wasn’t a rehearsed speech, at least, but that was probably only because he hadn’t had enough time to prepare one after he had gotten this information. Not that he generally needed one anyway. The Asuran leader was quite persuasive when he wanted to be—which was most of the time.
Sariel sighed softly and nodded. She had received a brief transmission from Kronn during the trip over here, but all it said was that their operation with
“So, looks like you made nice with Corin,” she commented as he approached. “You want to hand me a decoupler?”
He glanced at the toolbox near her. He had no idea what that could possibly be, but something in her voice…
“You don’t have one,” he said. “Unless this is some local dialect I’m not familiar with.”
She leaned up on an elbow and shot him a cold glare, but after a few seconds her lips broke into a wry smile. “Not bad for a pretty boy.” She extended a hand.
He took it to help her up, and this time the empathic spark came abruptly as their skin touched. He expected a wave of annoyance, but instead he sensed…hope?
“The name’s Shyrah,” she said, breaking his grip, “but you already knew that. I’m sure Corin tried to scare you away, but I have nothing against you, Incubus.”
“He mentioned you had some concerns. They didn’t seem unreasonable.”
She grunted. “Some of the people here think you’re going to save the day—they’re convinced of it. They don’t know how or why or what the hell it even means, but they’re convinced.”
“I don’t really know how I’m going to save anyone,” he admitted. “I’m a whore and a refugee.”
She seemed to size him up for a moment, her blue eyes sharp and focused. Finally she smiled, and decided it was actually quite pleasant.
“So we’re told,” she said. “You do what you need to survive. No one should blame you for that.”
“I’m not sure if I’m staying, but Kronn suggested I give it a few days. I figure I owe him that much, at least.”
“It’s not a glamorous life,” she muttered, her smile fading. “But it is the only one some of us have.”
Damien nodded, a part of him realizing how easy things had been for him. He might have been a slave, but he had never wanted for food or had to live in run-down conditions like this. He had slept in silken sheets and woken to fresh pastries. He hadn’t been beaten or tortured, and he had never really felt like danger was lurking around every corner.
How much worse had many of them had it? What had this woman before him seen in her life that he had probably only had nightmares about? It almost made him sick to think he had turned away from a life most of these people would probably embrace given the chance.
Shyrah sighed. “Look, I know the princess wants you for some reason. Maybe she’s told you or maybe she hasn’t, but whatever it is, be careful. There’s a lot more going on here than she’s letting on, I know that much.”
“I’m sure there is,” he replied distantly.
She measured him again with her eyes, but her face remained unreadable. “I have a lot of work to get done, but I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“It was nice to meet you.”
“Yeah,” she murmured, then grabbed her tools and walked off.
Damien stood there for a while longer before he decided to go and try to meet some of the others. If he was going to fit in here, there was no point in putting it off. Even if he wasn’t…well, he’d still like to know as much as possible before he made that decision.
***
“It’s not the best way to get him acclimated to life here,” Sariel pointed out, lowering the data reader and closing her eyes. “And what if something goes wrong?”
“I don’t think we have a choice,” Kronn said. “We might not get another opportunity like this.”
It wasn’t a rehearsed speech, at least, but that was probably only because he hadn’t had enough time to prepare one after he had gotten this information. Not that he generally needed one anyway. The Asuran leader was quite persuasive when he wanted to be—which was most of the time.
Sariel sighed softly and nodded. She had received a brief transmission from Kronn during the trip over here, but all it said was that their operation with
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