Steel Maiden (4 page)

I heard the hurt in her voice, and I felt my
own throat squeeze at her sadness. It was a subject she never
wanted to talk about. As a child I had asked her many times why she
didn’t have children of her own, not fully understanding what
barren
meant. I could always see the tears welling in her
eyes. I loved Rose like a mother, and I knew I was the closest
thing she’d ever had to a daughter. She’d protected me all these
years and put her own life in danger because of me. But Rose was
sixty-five now, which was ancient for those living in the Pit. It
was my turn to take care of her. Not the other way around.

And yet, here I was, hiding in my cupboard
again, like a frightened little mouse.

“Hmm.” I heard the priest move about the
room.

“Even in your haggard state, I can tell you
were never one of the beautiful ones. Your nose is too big. Your
lips too fine. Your features are uneven, and there is nothing
interesting about your eyes. You lack the refined bone structure of
natural beauty. If you had been lovely, we could have used you.
Even a barren concubine can find ways to please us.”

I could feel the wicked smile on his face. I
wanted to claw out his eyes.

“Had you been born a beauty,” continued the
priest, in love with the sound of his own voice, “you could have
been saved by the priests of the temple. We would have fed you and
clothed you in glorious gowns. You would have gone to parties and
been the envy of all the women in Anglia…
if
only you had
been beautiful. But the ugly ones are left behind, left in this God
forsaken slum, where you belong.”

I cursed a million curses in my head, and a
cold, icy feeling welled inside me. I wanted to be with Rose, to
stand next to her while this wretched man tore her apart. I wanted
to spit in his face. How dare he speak to Rose like that? I wanted
to tell him that most women, particularly the prettiest ones, would
rather die than become a priest’s concubine.

“Well,” said Rosy, almost cheerfully, “I
guess those woman have all the luck in the world then, don’t they.
I wasn’t born beautiful, and at my age I don’t really care anymore.
If there’s nothing else, I really should be getting back to my
sewing…”

“And what of your husband? I do remembering
reading that you had been married.”

“Died of the fever ten years ago.”

I couldn’t detect any anger in Rose’s voice.
She was a true champion. I loved her for it. I heard the soft
patter of Rose’s feet move towards the door.

The priest continued, and I had to
concentrate to hear his voice over the squeaking of the
floorboards. He was right on top of me, right next to the table. If
I made any sound, he would hear me. I held my breath, as sweat
trickled down my forehead, and my bowels turned watery. “If I find
out that you’re lying—”

“I’m not,” came Rose’s voice, but the priest
continued as though he hadn’t heard her.

“Even in your state … your age … underneath
all that filth, you are still a woman. And I have different needs
than the other priests. My pleasures are of the
inflicting
kind. I find screaming delightfully arousing.”

I cringed as I listened to this sadistic
priest. The horrors, the brutal, twisted tortures that the priests
inflicted upon women were legend. The mangled, twisted bodies of
prostitutes were commonly found in the ditches that divided Soul
City from the Pit. The priests felt it was their right to do
whatever they wished to women who weren’t beautiful enough to be
concubines. “Make no mistake,
peasant
. If I find out that
you are lying—if you are hiding a woman here—there are worse things
than death.”

“As I said. I’m
not
lying,” said
Rose. Her voice rose, and I prayed the priest wouldn’t hurt her.
Not my Rose.

“You can tear this place apart, and all you
will find is little old me. Nothing else.”

After an uncomfortable silence the
floorboards squeaked above my head, and I heard the heavy tread of
the priest’s feet to my left. I knew he had moved towards the
door.

“I find no claim to these rumors, for now,”
said the priest.

His voice became a little more muffled as he
moved a little farther away.

“I will continue my inquiries on this
matter. Pray that you do not see my face again because if you do,”
I sensed the evil smile on his lips, “it will be the last face you
will ever see.”

I strained to listen. My insides twisted. I
was about to be sick with an empty stomach.

With a screech and thud, I knew that Rose
had closed the door. But I still held on to my breath. What if the
priest had killed her silently? What if this was a trick? What if
he knew where I was all this time, and this was just a ruse to get
me to come out. I was so panicked that I didn’t hear the table
being moved until a whoosh of cool air slapped my face.

I blinked up into Rose’s flushed face.

“You can come out now. He’s gone.”

I let out my breath and clambered out of my
private dungeon. Only then did I realize that the crown had gouged
into my side and left an angry red mark.

As I opened my mouth to thank her, she
grabbed ahold of my wrists.

“Elena. They’re on to us. I don’t know who
told, but someone did. Next time we won’t be so lucky.”

I stared into the brown eyes I’d grown to
love so much and nodded.

“I know.” I swallowed. “But there won’t be a
next time.”

Rose frowned. “Elena, please! Don’t do
this.”

Ignoring her, I ran to our single
north-facing window. I could see that the shadow on the sundial
outside was on the number seven.

“It’s already past seven in the morning.
Damn these priests to hell if they make me miss this chance.”

“This is a bad idea, Elena,” came Rose’s
voice behind me. “I beg you not to go.”

“Can’t. I’ve already made the deal.”

I turned back to Rose, grabbed her by the
shoulders, and kissed her forehead.

Rose shot daggers at me with her eyes.

“Even after this, with what happened with
the priest, you’re still going out? They know about you, Elena. I
don’t know how, but they do. And now they’ll be looking for you,
take my word for it. You must see that. You must see how stupid and
selfish you’re being.”

She shook her head. Her eyes were filled
with disappointment.

I felt a pang in my chest. But I was doing
this for us, to save us from this hell. She didn’t get it. She
would just have to trust me.

“It’s because of the damn priests that I’m
doing this,” I said quickly and held her gaze.

“I’m doing this for
us
. I know you
can’t see that now, but it’s the truth.”

Rose’s eyes reddened as they welled with
tears. I felt my own eyes burn with the sadness that lingered
between us. I blinked my tears away and released her.

“I know you love me. You’ve been a mother to
me for all these years. It’s my turn to take care of us.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but I cut
her off and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’ll be back later with the supper of your
dreams.”

Before Rose could stop me, I dashed out the
front door.

CHAPTER 4

I
RAN FUELED BY the fear of what Mad
Jack would do to me if I didn’t make our appointment. I ran on
exhaustion and an empty stomach. Blood pounded through my veins,
and yet I felt numb with dread.

I had seen the tears in Rose’s eyes, but I
hadn’t said anything. I would see her smile again when my pockets
were filled with coin. She had sacrificed her life to keep me safe.
It was my time to pay her back. She deserved a good life, and I was
going to give it to her.

I pulled my hood down and kept to the
shadows as I ran through the mud in our ramshackle village. I
passed the small square in the center of town. People were already
setting up for the day’s market. Some looked up as I ran past, but
most were preoccupied with displaying the paltry goods they were
hoping to sell. There were no stone houses here like in Soul City.
Our homes were a cluster of scrap metal and wood planks. They
looked particularly grim in the bleak light of the early morning.
It wasn’t the scent of spices, sugar, and roasting meat that I
smelled, but rather the stink of horse manure, vomit, ale, and
human waste… I did my best not to take it in, but the hot, toxic
air always seemed to find a way into my skin.

My lungs burned, and I ran desperately to
make that appointment. I just had to. I had nothing left but a
fool’s hope that Rose and I might finally get out of the Pit.

With the town square behind me, I made for
Bleak Town, the deepest and most crowded area of the Pit. The
deeper I ventured, the worse the smell got. The buildings were
worse here, too. The crude structures toppled over one another
dangerously and looked as if they would fall apart in a gust of
wind. Barefoot children with worn-down clothes hanging on their
skinny bodies played backgammon in the street. They were coated
with grime and looked like they’d never bathed once in their entire
lives. The air was hot, and my clothes stuck to my body. The
taverns that lined the road were busy.

I made for Mad Jack’s lair, the Dirty Habit.
It was the only inn in the Pit, and the only two-story building in
the village. It stood out among the other buildings, but not in a
good way. The second floor had burned in a fire three years ago,
and it had never been replaced. Now, the top of the building looked
like a skeleton of a dead animal.

There was no front door to the building
either, so I stepped up quickly and made my way inside.

A few harlots raised their brows at me,
their cleavage spilling out of their barely-there outfits. Their
eyes were lined with black kohl and their lips were swollen and
red. All the sofas and chairs were occupied by clients. A plain but
curvaceous woman winked at me as she passed by, completely
naked.

Although I blushed a little, it wasn’t new
to me. I’d been here before. I moved as quickly as I could as I
negotiated my way past the tables, the half-naked women, and the
many hands of men that tried to grab me as I headed towards the
back.

I could see the small office area behind two
bodyguards, and I caught a glimpse of Mad Jack sitting at his desk.
I felt my knees give way. Thank the Creator! He was still
there.

The guards looked at me, but before they
could stop me I blurted, “I have an appointment with Mad Jack.”

At the mention of his name he looked up.

He was young for a street lord, older than
me, but no more than thirty. His black hair was oiled and neatly
pulled back into a ponytail. His white shirt was opened at the
collar and revealed his strong muscles underneath. I wondered what
it would be like to touch his golden skin, to trace my hands along
those powerful shoulders. Although most of the women in my area
said he was a vile and ugly man, I’d always thought he was
handsome, striking really. If it weren’t for the long scar on his
right cheek, he would have been gorgeous. No doubt that scar saved
him from the clutches of the priests who did not discriminate
between the sexes when selecting the beautiful ones for
themselves.

His eyes were dark, with the thickest lashes
I’d ever seen on a man. They were the kinds of eyes that held you
paralyzed just by their beauty, like they could see into your soul.
There was no doubt in my mind that Mad Jack had broken many, many
hearts.

When his eyes met mine, I couldn’t help but
blush. He did that to me. But I didn’t have time to bat my lashes
at him, even if I was that kind of woman, which I wasn’t. I was
here on business.

I smiled as I lowered my hood. My heart
raced as I imagined the surprise he would feel when he saw that I
had stolen the object he had told me no one could ever take. I was
very pleased with myself.

Taking his silence as an invitation to
enter, I pushed past his guards, rushed into his office, and
plunked the crown his desk.

“And you said it was impossible,” I purred.
“What do you think now, eh?”

Mad Jack stared at the golden crown with
disbelief. My smile faded when I met his eyes again. He wasn’t
looking at me with the shock and envy I had expected. He was
looking at me with a mix of fear and regret, like he hadn’t
expected me to hand it to him, like he didn’t
want
me to. I
got the sense that he didn’t want me here either.

His eyes darted behind my shoulder, but I
didn’t turn around. I looked at him and then raised my hands.

“I know I’m late but I can explain. See,
there was a priest who came around looking for me, and I had to
hide and wait till he was gone before I could—”

“You won’t be hiding no more. It’s
over.”

The rest of my excuse died in my throat.