Small Smiles

The body was covered in gashes and burns. Blood covered every exposed bit of flesh, an uncomfortable amount of surface. He-Aniah assumed the corpse had been male-wore only a pair of filthy shorts, stained dark red and brown from blood, dirt, and grime. He lay face down, head turned to face the back wall. His arms and legs were splayed in unnatural positions. One of the legs was twisted so badly it had to be broken.

She wanted to scream. Instead, she felt her stomach heave. She turned and retched onto the floor, emptying her stomach of the disgusting mush she had eaten at breakfast. It only worsened the smell, and she dry-heaved several more times.

Aluri patted her shoulder. “There, there, child. I know it is not pleasant. But you should not worry for him.”

“Why, because he’s dead?” she asked. She tried to sound angry, but she just sounded frail.

“Bold of you to assume he is dead.” He chuckled. “No, he is alive and even conscious. He just can’t move very well right now.”

Aniah’s eyes widened. That hunk of slaughterhouse meat could not still be alive.

“Regardless,” Aluri continued. “You should not worry for him, because you should be far more worried for yourself.” There was a cold eagerness in his voice, sinister in a way she hadn’t heard from him before. She shuddered. “You see,” he said, “your mother has been uncooperative. Perhaps she does not think us serious. Perhaps she just doesn’t have the proper incentive yet. Either way, you have a very important role to play here.”

“Oh?” Aniah asked weakly.

“We have to show Arellia that we are serious. Appeal to her deeply hidden affections by a show of true force.”

Aniah actually managed to snort at that. “Bold of you to assume that she has affections.”

Aluri smiled. “Perhaps. We shall see, I suppose.”

***

Distantly, Joree recognized the feminine voice speaking with the monster. And…he couldn’t decide if it made him feel better or not. Part of him felt relieved, and the other…well, the other part wished that someone would hit him across the head again so he could return to unconsciousness rather than deal with the source of that voice.

He was coming to himself gradually. His pain was acute, not just physically but mentally as well. Thinking was hard, but memory slowly returned. He was fairly certain he had been captured and taken to Kritose. He thought his mother had escaped, though. Hopefully she had managed to remain free.

“Are you threatening me?” That imperious, condescending tone…it was painfully familiar. It was an ignorant arrogance, born of an inability to accept that someone might not bend to your will simply because you spoke.

It clicked.

What in the Flames is Aniah doing here?

“Alright, young man,” said the monster-no, it was a man-Joree could remember now. Aluri. “Listen very closely. I have a young girl here. She also happens to be a very important member of your nation. If you have a conscience or any sort of allegiance to the Manicoti dynasty, you will start cooperating. Or things could get…messy, for her.”

Joree wanted to cry out in frustration. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to lash out with Will power. He couldn’t do any of that though. He wasn’t even sure he had the strength to answer Aluri’s questions.

A soft cry of pain suddenly brought his mind into acute focus.

“That was just a warning,” Aluri said calmly. “So that you know we are serious.”

Joree tried to cry out, but only a faint groan escaped his lips.

“Tell me, what specifically can you do with Will, besides block it?” Aluri prodded. His voice was cool, no hint of passion or harshness.

Joree opened his mouth, trying to form words. Any words. But his throat was raw and his tongue swollen.

“I see,” Aluri said. “Well then.”

This time, the cry of pain was shriller, almost a scream. Joree flinched instinctively, and his body flared with pain.

“Stop!” he tried to croak. It came out as barely a rasping breath.

“Silly me,” Aluri said, his tone of voice not wavering. “I should be letting you watch.” A few moments later, two figures circled around to stand by the back wall, right where Joree was facing. He couldn’t lift his head, but if he strained his eyes upward, he could just barely see the blood trailing from Aniah’s cheek and neck. Shallow enough not to be dangerous, but deep enough to bleed an uncomfortable amount.

As Joree looked up, Aluri brought out a thin serrated knife and made a slow, deliberate gash from Aniah’s shoulder to elbow. She struggled against him weakly, screaming in earnest now.

Joree felt helpless. He couldn’t form words. He couldn’t save her.

You shouldn’t have beaten me senseless, you bastard, he thought angrily. Now you’ll never get what you want, and it’s your own fault.

He felt something shift in the air. He focused on it, suddenly more alert. Something had just changed.

It took only a moment for him to realize what it was.

Aniah was using Will.

***

Aniah felt the hot blood dripping down her arm, her neck, her face. The pain was sharp enough to make her want to fall to her knees and wrap her arms around herself. But she couldn’t, not with Aluri holding her upright. His tight grip might have been uncomfortable, but in the face of her other pains she barely felt it.

How could that man be alive? a distant part of her wondered. Her agony was so intense she was sure she was dying, yet he clearly had been through worse.

She struck out instinctively with Will, a defensive reaction to the physical attacks. Nothing happened, and she closed her eyes, not wanting to see her own blood as it slipped from her fingertips and blended with the dried blood on the ground.

Aluri grunted suddenly, his grip weakening briefly on her arm. She forced her eyes open, craning her neck around to peer at him. He looked like someone had punched him in the stomach, face contorted and shoulders slightly hunched. She blinked. What had happened? Could it be…

She attacked with Will again, this time forcing out a powerful blast towards him. Again, nothing seemed to happen.

And then he let out a piercing shriek. He let go of her arm and clutched his stomach, doubling over as he howled. She stared at him blankly, dumbfounded. What had she done? How had she done it? Will struck at the mind, not the body. Perhaps it had something to do with his strange immunity to her mental attacks. Did Will affect him differently somehow?

It didn’t matter at the moment. She had to escape. She started to sprint past Aluri, but he snatched her arm just before she reached the door, jerking her to a painful halt.

“What was that, you little wench?” Aluri hissed. All semblance of calm was gone from his voice. His expression was enraged, but also…fascinated? That couldn’t be right. She tried to jerk away, disturbed by those piercing eyes that seemed to bore into her soul. He held firm. So she gathered her Will again, throwing a haphazard attack at him.

This time, he didn’t let her complete her work. Using the hilt of his dagger, he slammed a powerful blow into her right temple. Her world went dark.

***

Aniah awoke in her room. Her wounds had been bandaged and a glass of water sat on the small wooden table near the foot of her bed. She sat up slowly, wincing at the lances of agony caused by aggravating her injuries.

She immediately froze, realizing she wasn’t alone. Aluri was there, along with the woman servant. Both stood near the door which was open, as if they were prepared to flee. Aluri held a dart blower in his hand.

“If you try anything,” he said, his calm demeanor back in place, “I will immediately shoot you.”

She glared at him. “You won’t if my first strike kills you,” she spat.

“If you could do that, I would already be dead,” he said simply.

Wraiths of Flame. He was right. She didn’t even know what she had done, let alone how to make it work again. If she tried and it didn’t kill him, she risked getting shot. She doubted that would be a pleasant experience.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

“I want to know what you did,” Aluri said simply.

“I attacked you with Will,” she replied, raising her chin.

“That’s impossible.” He said it with complete certainty.

Aniah tried to think how Arellia would respond. What would a Highness say in a situation like this? She would want to appear in control, calm, unfazed. Aniah didn’t really feel that way.

So she bluffed. She smiled just slightly, an expression she had seen often on King Abicotta’s face. “Oh, how little you understand,” she said, shaking her head as if in pity. “You think you are so clever, capturing me, keeping me here, using me in your little ploys against my mother.” She forced out a little chuckle.

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” Aluri said, returning her small smile. “But I can easily kill you, here and now. I’m not sure this is a time for levity.”

She leaned back against the wall, folding her arms across her stomach. That proved unwise as it hurt her neck and sliced arm, causing her to wince. Not very smooth. Still, she smiled.

“Could you now?” she asked musingly. “That’s interesting. I’d like to see you try.” A small part of her prayed that he wouldn’t actually try to kill her. If he did, she would almost certainly die.

He hesitated. It was brief, and he covered it well. But he did hesitate. “I will,” he promised her. “But for now, I still have use of you.” He leaned forward. “You will tell me how you attacked me, one way or another. We can do it the easy way, or the fun way. I’m perfectly fine with either.” He smiled, this time showing teeth. “But trust me, I can do far, far more to you than those little cuts. If you think that was painful, then you are in for a rather jarring surprise. You haven’t even come close to true pain yet.”

Aniah continued to smile, although she squirmed inwardly. “I look forward to our next session,” she said. Then, because it sounded like something Arellia would say, she added, “You have been most informative. Thank you for your cooperation.”