Unbound Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 1) (2 page)

4

Aaric

A
aric leaned back in the old leather chair, sighing with satisfaction. The study was his place of refuge, his sanctuary. It was here that his father had created his reputation as a great inventor, and it was now where Aaric spent most of his time.

He frowned a little as he thought of his father. Baldwin had been a great man – too great, in some ways. Aaric was now riding high in society, but only because of what his father had done. Well, he thought grimly, his time would come. He would create something that would change the world. He was sure of it. He just didn't know what it was yet.

He looked around the familiar room. Bookshelves lined the walls on one side, and every available space in them was filled with books, scrolls, and paper. The same littered his table and were stacked in haphazard piles all over the room. Various knickknacks from his father's travels were placed here and there all around the room.

Aaric pulled a scroll out from under one of the precarious stacks of books on his table and started to read. He heard a muffled thump downstairs and started with surprise before remembering he wasn't the only one in the house now. Having a slave would take some getting used to. The girl was so quiet that he could almost forget she was there. Aaric thought of her expression when he entered her room. Fear had been written all over her face. Aaric felt a twinge of discomfort but shrugged it off. She'd get used to her new life.

A few hours passed in quiet as he read. Too quiet in fact. Aaric frowned in puzzlement, then stood and stretched, placing his book on the desk.

He should probably go check on her, make sure she wasn't pocketing the silverware or some such nonsense.

The girl was gone. Aaric frantically searched her bedroom, the kitchen, peeked nervously in the lavatory, and then the rest of the house, even peering into the dusty attic before having to admit to himself that she just wasn't there. He had to conclude that the woman ran away. She actually
ran away.
Aaric rolled his eyes heavenward and dashed out the front door.

He was halfway down the street before remembering to look at his brace. A compass-like device was built into it to lead him directly to the girl and the collar she was wearing.

Following its directions, Aaric hurried down a small side street, trying to run and avoid bumping into people at the same time. The streets were packed with people. They always were.

It was late afternoon; he had to get to her before dark—he
had
to. Aaric felt his anxiety grow as he found himself being led into a seedier part of town. Fool girl, he thought, gritting his teeth. He didn't know what had possessed her to run away, and after he had shown her such kindness, too.

Comparative kindness, maybe,
a voice said inside his head.
But she's still a slave.
He angrily shoved the thoughts aside. He didn't have time to dwell on past memories.

He followed the compass for the better part of an hour. He was beginning to think there was a manufacturing defect in his brace when he found her.

She was crouched defensively, her back to a wall. A few rough-looking men had surrounded her, whistling and cat-calling. Aaric roughly pushed through the men to reach her. “Excuse me,” he said loudly. “Move aside, that's my slave.”

He started to reach out to her when the girl whirled to face him, hands outstretched, fingers glowing with magic. Her eyes were wild with panic, but recognition flickered across her face and she let her hands drop, the magic winking out of existence. Aaric didn't let the relief he felt at finding her show on his face.

“What's all the commotion about?” A constable was pushing his way through the men standing there, ignoring the grumbles and rude exclamations at being pushed.

“Nothing to see here, sir,” Aaric said. He reached out and took the girl's arm. She didn't resist. “Just come to reclaim my slave.”

“Did she try to escape then?” the constable asked, peering at the young woman. “That would warrant a good beating, I reckon.” He roughly shouldered aside one of the men who was standing too close. The man stumbled and fell, obviously drunk. The rest were slinking away into the evening shadows.

“I don't think it's as serious as all that,” Aaric said smoothly. “I'm afraid she is quite fresh to slavery and still learning her new way of life.”

The constable nodded. “I see. Well, if I'm not needed here, it looks like the streets could use some clearing, then. Carry on.”

And with that, he left with a swish of his cape and a self-important flourish of his cudgel, leaving the two standing alone in the street.

5

Adaryn

“
A
aric,” I began, but the man held up his hand for silence, cutting me off.

“Don't speak until we return home.” The command was clear in his voice. I kept silent and followed him down the street. It was just as cold here in the city as the forest, but while the forest was beautiful in its frozen serenity, the snow and ice here were trampled and dirty. The city was ugly to me.

I glanced sideways at Aaric as we walked. His eyes stared straight ahead and his jaw was set. He looked angry. I nervously fingered the collar lightly, wondering if he would try and punish me. I felt my own jaw set in determination. He might try, but I would make him regret it. I seized the magic, keeping it hidden. If he tried to hurt me, I'd be ready.

I looked up at the darkening sky, sighing with annoyance. I had left Aaric's house, hoping to lurk unnoticed in the city until I could find a way to escape at night, but my obvious insecurity and unfamiliarity with the city had attracted the unwanted attention of street thugs. I shuddered just thinking about it. I didn't like to admit it, but I had felt a surge of relief when Aaric had come.

We arrived at the house. It looked more or less like all the other buildings I had seen, brick walls and slate roof. It looked cramped with other houses built right next to it. Aaric opened the door and motioned me to go inside before him. As I walked past he simply said, “Kitchen.”

I walked into the small room and took a seat at the table. It occurred to me that maybe slaves weren't supposed to sit without the permission of their masters, but I didn't care. If he had a problem with it, he'd say something.

It apparently didn't matter to him. He sat at the chair opposite from me and watched me without speaking, a curious light in his eyes.

We sat like that for several minutes, and the silence grew. I couldn't take it any more. “How did you find me?” I blurted out. “I had a good head start on you, yet you found me anyway. How?”

Aaric's lips curved in amusement as he lifted his arm with the leather brace. “With this,” he said. I leaned forward a little as he showed me a strange-looking device built into it. It looked like a tiny glass dome with an arrow inside. The arrow pointed at me. I moved a little to the left and right, watching the arrow point follow.

“This is why escape won't work,” he said, looking smug. I wanted to slap him. “This arrow is programed to know the precise location of your collar. All I have to do is follow it.”

“I should have waited until night,” I grumbled to myself. “I could have gotten farther.”

Aaric looked alarmed. “Very lucky for you that you didn't,” he said seriously. “Slaves aren't permitted to walk the city at night without a written consent slip from their masters. If caught by the Night Watch, you would have been punished most severely, almost certainly before I could find you.”

I grimaced. Slavery was getting more restrictive by the moment. I
had
to find a way to free myself, but for now it seemed I would have to bide my time.

Aaric sighed, leaning back in his chair. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “This is just as much my fault. I should have warned you to not run away. I guess I just assumed. My mistake.”

He grinned at me. I stared stonily back. He sighed again. “Don't look at me like that,” he said. “You're new at this, but you should still know better than to run away from your master.”

“You're
not
my master,” I spat, bristling at his words.

“Really?” Aaric laughed. “That's strange, because the last time I checked,
I
was wearing the brace, and
you
were wearing the collar. Oh, look! You still are.” He chuckled again, clearly amused. I glowered sullenly, hating him.

Aaric pushed back his chair and stood. “Please don't run away again,” he said. “I would hate to have to leash you.”

“That's it?” I blurted out, surprised. I had expected him to react much more harshly. “You aren't going to try and punish me?”

The man looked startled. “Punish? Why would I do that?”

I bit my lip, wishing I had stayed silent. Fool, asking him a question like that! I certainly didn't want to go and give him any ideas.

Aaric eyed me a minute, then shrugged. “I don't see any need for that.” But his eyes narrowed with a warning light. “However, don't get any ideas that you will be able to work your magic if I do.”

“What do you mean?” I wanted to know.

Aaric was silent for a moment before he replied, “I don't know how you and your people . . . work your magic.” His mouth twisted distastefully. “And I don't want to. All I know is that the pain the collar inflicts acts . . . like a barrier of sorts. You won't be able to cast your enchantments. That is obviously in part why the collars are so effective. You can't fight back if I apply power.”

I felt chilled to my core. To be helpless, to not be able to defend myself, was something I didn't want to contemplate. The events of the past few days were overwhelming. I rubbed my eyes; I just wanted to go to sleep.

“You look exhausted,” Aaric spoke again. “I think it is high time you ate some dinner and went to bed.”

I shook my head tiredly. “I'm not hungry,” I mumbled.

He hesitated a moment but then said, “Very well, I'll see you in the morning, then.”

I nodded dully and made my way to the stairs. I found myself crawling into bed a few minutes later. The street lamps outside cast strange shadows in my new room. I lay my head on my pillow and closed my eyes, too exhausted to wipe the tears sliding down my face.

6

Adaryn

“
S
o the question is: what should I call you?”

“What?” I looked up from my lumpy porridge. Aaric wasn't a very good cook, but then again, neither was I.

“Your name. What should I call you? Every slave has a name.”

“I already have a name,” I said sourly.

He ignored me. “I have it! Poppy. That's a lovely name, wouldn't you say?” Aaric looked at me expectantly.

“I said I already have a name.” I spoke slowly, trying to keep my temper. Today wasn't looking up to be any better than the last two.

Aaric looked surprised. “You do?”

“The nomads have names, you know.” I tried not to ground my teeth with irritation.

Aaric said nothing, merely watched me with his soft gray eyes.

“It's Adaryn,” I said at last. “Adaryn is my name.”

“Adaryn,” Aaric repeated quietly. “It means ‘bird’ in the Old Language.”

I already knew that. My people often mixed the Old Language with the Common tongue. I nodded, not able to speak around the lump that had welled in my throat. I'd only been gone for three days, but it felt like months.

“That will do fine,” Aaric said. I was surprised to hear the gentleness in his voice. “I think it's a lovely name. Much better than Poppy.”

I gave him a watery smile, thankful beyond words that he was going to let me keep my name. I knew that wasn't common. The young man coughed deliberately and stood up, holding his empty porridge bowl. He held a hand out to mine. “Are you going to finish that?”

I shook my head and passed it to him. He placed them in the sink, a remarkable feat, since every other dish in the house seemed to be in the sink as well.

“I'll be in the study all morning,” he said, heading for the entryway and stairs. “Please don't disturb me. I'm in the middle of something important.”

“May I go outside?” I asked. Aaric's head snapped around to look at me suspiciously. I held out my hands in a peaceful gesture. “I won't run away. Promise.”

He still looked wary but glanced up the stairs toward his study. It seemed the opportunity for quiet won out. He nodded. “Yes, but stay close. I don't want to spend the better part of my day fetching you from heaven knows where.”

He went up the stairs, two at a time. I had no idea what he found so fascinating in his office, but I had my own business to attend to. I retrieved my boots and cloak and headed outdoors.

Stepping outside, I took a deep breath. Despite the smell of unwashed bodies and garbage, the air was cold and felt good on my face. I had been outside yesterday, but being indoors for any amount of time felt like too long. “I wasn't made to live in a box,” I muttered to myself as I hurried down the steps and into the street.

People were everywhere. I felt every bit as overwhelmed as I did the day before but this time without the anxiety of trying to escape. Men, women, and bedraggled beggar children thronged the streets, with horse drawn carriages and carts mingling in the crowd.

I was pushed this way and that, like the flow of a river. The crowd streamed on without a break. Most of the people I saw looked to be city dwellers, but I saw nomadic people, too. Most of them moved with the purpose of some unknown errand, and some begged on the streets; all wore collars.

I wandered the streets for some time, feeling my appetite grow as I walked. I regretfully thought of my unfinished porridge at home, wishing I had eaten it. I fished through my pockets but only came up with a couple of coppers. My people rarely used money, as we preferred to trade items, but occasionally we dealt with it. I had no idea if it would be enough to buy a meal, but it was worth a try.

After a bit of searching, I found myself standing in front of an establishment that sold coffee and pastries. I stood in front of the door, debating if I should go in. The city was so different from my peaceful forest and isolated clans, and it came with its own set of rules, rules I was thoroughly unfamiliar with. My growling stomach decided for me. With a deep breath, I pushed open the door and walked in.