Page 101 of Starside

“Such a pretty sword,” he whispers, in a strange lilt. “Lordship will love it.”

I scream as loudly as I can.

Then, the glowing red sword’s hilt smacks against my head, and the world goes dark.

18

I’m being dragged by one of my arms through the dirt.

My other arm is locked around something solid.

“Why the fuck is she still holding her sword?” someone new says as I come to a stop. My other hand is unceremoniously let go.

Another new voice. “It won’t move without her. We had to play with her like a puppet to bring it over here.”

Bile crawls up my throat. My temple aches where that strange glowing sword struck me.

The man makes an amused sound. “Play with her, you say?” A pause, and I can only imagine he’s looking me over. “I hope you played a lot.”

“Not as much as I would have liked.”

It takes every ounce of willpower not to open my eyes and swing. But my head is still pounding. My senses are still returning. They have me more than outnumbered.

“It’s a beautiful sword,” yet another says. He pauses. I can hear the dirt shift around his feet. “We should kill her. Take it ourselves.”

The same voice from before is back, with its distinct cadence. “Silence. Lordship will end her. Lordship will be grateful.” He hums happily. “And we will be rewarded …”

“Let’s throw her in, then,” one of the men snaps, irritated.

Throw me in? Where?

“Not until he’s summoned.”

I hear steps moving away from me. Then more men speaking. Two of them, talking about my sword … then about my body.

“Human. Nice and warm,” one of them says. A cold, bone-dry finger runs down my cheek. My hands are shaking, itching, pleading to kill him. “And soft.” Someone tugs at a piece of my hair that’s gone loose from its pins.

I wince in disgust, remembering a time years ago when men were also laughing, when they were planning. The hand stops. “Is she—”

A yell nearby. Boots thudding against compact ground.

“Stay with her,” one of the immortals says as he darts away.

I open my eyes and find a man with the same dry cracked skin leaning down, as if he’s about to touch me again.

I smile.

And my sword goes right through his gut.

Blood spurts onto me. I groan and sit up, throwing him to the side. Disgusting.

I look around. I’m in the rancid woods. Alone. I get to my feet and—I don’t even know where I’m going. Did Raker hear my scream?

If he did … does he even care enough to go looking for me?

Probably not. I have to assume I’m on my own. I look up, as if to use the sun for direction.

A branch snaps behind me.