The Purloined Heart

Bastard, I thought. I’d never been a healer. I knew the basics, of course, but putting someone’s heart back in their chest was beyond me. I didn’t even know what spells he’d used to keep her heart—and her—alive. They had to be incredibly fragile. The merest disruption would kill her instantly. What did you do to her?

I allowed my thoughts to wander onward, into the spells binding her heart. They were fantastical, and yet they could be broken—if I was willing to kill her in the process. I wasn’t, even though I feared she’d rather be dead than a slave.

And she was a slave, as much a slave as the poor collared girls I’d seen earlier. I had to free her without killing her. I forced myself to stand and staggered over to the door, pressing my hands against the stone. This door wasn’t wood, and the lock was charmed against lock-pickers, but I had no trouble opening it with my tools.

I smirked as I stepped outside. The overconfident ass had thought to relieve me of my knapsack, but he hadn’t bothered to actually search me. It made a certain kind of sense—most magicians relied on their own powers rather than weapons or tools—yet it was still an oversight. A very careless oversight.

My mood darkened as I slipped through the corridors. The building didn’t seem to be bigger on the inside, but I still had no idea where to find anything. The blood link should’ve drawn me straight to Starlight, wherever she was, yet there was so much magic in the air, I was reluctant to go straight there.

I walked downstairs into the basement and looked around, noting the workshop and enough tools to outfit an entire crew of magicians. Did Lord Dragon have apprentices? I found it unlikely, but stranger things had happened. There were quite a few low-powered magicians who had just enough power to know what they lacked, just enough power to make them useful to someone with low scruples and lower morals. I’d met a particularly nasty young man who’d been the brunt of his village’s jokes until he’d developed enough power to make them suffer. They’d stopped laughing when they’d realized how dangerous he’d become, but it had been too late. If Lord Dragon had an apprentice…

It didn’t look as though he did, I decided. There was no rhyme or reason to his layout, suggesting he lived and worked alone. Taking an apprentice would’ve forced him to adapt to the newcomer and lay out his supplies so anyone could use them. I shuddered as I saw the pair of charmed collars on the workbench, the spells emplaced and waiting for a victim. They felt worse, somehow, than the spells I’d seen earlier. If I put the collar on, it would be the end. And I felt a compulsion to do just that.

I ground my teeth, biting my lip to remain focused. The spell was a powerful compulsion. No doubt the slavers salved their consciences by telling themselves the slaves put the collars on willingly. Nonsense. The slaves weren’t remotely willing to go into slavery.

I picked up the first collar and fiddled with the spells, erasing the compulsion text while strengthening the identification charm. I had no idea what sort of security spells Lord Dragon had set up near his inner sanctum, but it should help keep me from being detected if the spells took me for one of the slaves.

I briefly considered walking out of the mansion and escaping into the woods, perhaps going for help, yet I couldn’t bring myself to leave Starlight behind. There was probably no one who would help. It wasn’t as if anyone in the magical community owed me enough favors to come save her, or do something about Lord Dragon.

The collar opened a handful of doors for me. I spotted a number of slaves—all naked girls—but none of them paid any attention to me. That puzzled me for a moment before I worked out that their collars recognized the collar I was carrying and thought I had every right to be there.

I wanted to tell the girls that I’d free them, and I intended to do so, but I dared not do anything to break cover. I didn’t think their collars could read their thoughts, yet it would be child’s play to program a slave to report any attempt to free them or confess to any plans they might have to free themselves. I didn’t think many of them would get so far. The collars would make sure of it.

I touched the blood link again and let it lead me up to the inner sanctum. Lord Dragon seemed to want to impress, although I had no idea who was visiting. The decor was unbelievably garish, glittering golden statues and artworks scattered everywhere. If there was any pattern, I couldn’t see it. It looked like one of the mansions built by the new rich, a place owned by a man who’d made it and feared he hadn’t, a man who showed off his wealth in a manner that also showed off his insecurities.