The Pharoah Contract

Nisa was still flushed with anger. She sat up in the bed, pulling the coverlet around her. “You, Master Flomel, should remember who I am! And your own caste. I’m no longer an Expiant, subject to your whim.”

Flomel seemed surprised. “No longer an Expiant? How is this?”

Nisa smiled. “My Expiation is finished. And here I am, resurrected.”

Flomel considered this, long fingers stroking his chin. He studied Nisa with hooded eyes. “Perhaps,” he said, “you’re storing up new sins. Your misadventures with the casteless one are, if I remember correctly, somewhat akin to the sins that gave you into Expiation in the first place.”

“We’re no longer in the lands of my father, Magician. Different rules here, as any fool would know. And you’re wrong to call Ruiz casteless. I don’t know his lineage, but it’s higher than your own. Of that I’m sure.”

Flomel looked as if he might take his wand to Nisa, and Ruiz stepped around the corner of the bed, close enough to the magician to stop him if necessary.

“Enough,” the giantess said. “No more squabbling. Explain what is required. The Lady Corean expects punctuality. We depart for the pen shortly.”

Flomel drew a deep breath. “As you say,” he said. “Nisa, my apologies. I cannot help looking on you as a child of my own flesh, and I sorrow over your mistakes, as your real father would, were he here. But now to business. We begin rehearsals for the new play, today.”

Nisa recoiled, shocked. “The new play?”

“Yes, yes. The new play. The performance that will assure us an influential patron in this new world. Have you not been told?”

“No.”

“Well, as before, you’ll be the central character. A great honor, no?”

Nisa sat back suddenly, her face crumpled. “As before…. No, the Lady Corean would never permit such a thing.”

Flomel smiled. “It’s the Lady Corean who sends me here.”

“No, I can’t.” Nisa looked at Ruiz, appealing to him for help, but he could think of nothing to do or say. Her eyes dulled and she looked away. He felt a terrible sadness, and an anger so intense that he trembled with it. The images of her first death rose in his mind, unbidden. He had to make a violent effort to keep his face impassive.

He was still searching for some word of comfort for Nisa, when the giantess spoke again. “The woman must dress now, unless she wants to go naked to the pens.” She turned to Ruiz. “You also.”

Nisa rose from the bed, and went slowly into the wardrobe.

* * *

Ruiz walked beside Nisa. Her face was like stone, and she moved as if already drugged for the performance. Behind them, Flomel marched, swinging his wand and puffing a little with the exertion. The giantess trudged in the lead, and a sour unpleasant odor followed her. Ayam the herman brought up the rear, exclaiming at each new sight, discussing at length its boredom in Nisa’s rooms. The herman’s relentless voice was like needles in Ruiz’s ears, but he suffered in silence.

They reached the Pharaohan pen. Through the observation port, he could see that the stage was already set up, and the guildsmen swarmed over it like maggots over a gaudy corpse. Nisa drew a sharp breath, and then looked into Ruiz’s eyes. “I won’t, not again,” she whispered.

Ruiz was speechless. He gripped her shoulder, squeezed. She put her hand over his for a moment, then turned to Flomel.

“You,” she said bitterly, and drew a gem-encrusted set of sewing scissors from her sleeve. She sank it into Flomel’s belly and ripped up, opening him like a fish for cleaning. He stumbled back, collapsing into Ayam, who fell. Nisa darted away down the passage.

Banessa swung her giant frame around just as Nisa disappeared around the bend of the corridor. A flicker of irritation crossed her immense face, the first expression that Ruiz had seen in that large face. Ayam was hooting, hysterical, trying to push Flomel off its chest. Flomel was busy dying, a glazed look of amazement in his eyes.

The giantess detached a seeker from her harness, and Ruiz’s heart sank. The seeker was a cruel device, capable of following a scent trail for miles, programmed to herd the quarry back to its owner with small doses of an insupportably painful venom.

“Wait,” Ruiz said. “I’ll fetch her back.”

The giantess looked at him with the merest trace of amusement. “Yes,” she said. “You understand the seeker? Yes. This one I tune to you.” Banessa chuckled. “Best hurry.” She unhooked another seeker. “And this one for her, should you lose her.”

The seekers buzzed in her hands, eager to be off. A drop of venom trembled at the end of a stinger.

Ruiz ran.

Nisa’s long legs had carried her a considerable distance before Ruiz saw her, dodging into a side passage. He blessed the luck that had brought him within sight of her before she’d gotten lost in the maze. He increased his pace and turned the corner, to find her waiting for him.

“I thought you’d get away, too,” she said, smiling and holding out her arms.