The sound of distant laughter and the pungent smell of horse manure greeted Celty when she slipped out of a deep, deep sleep.

She surfaced through the layers of her unconsciousness slowly, as if she was paddling gently up and through the water in a lake. Her thoughts rippled around her, as if entities separate from her mind. For a moment, she thought she could reach out and touch them.

Every time she tried, they rippled away.

Celty’s nose had a tickle. Was a blade of grass tickling it? Where might she might be…?

For a long stretch of time, she hovered in a strange in-between. Her body moved, but it too felt separate from her.

A sound, maybe from someone stumbling, penetrated her mind. She cocked her head, listening.

Loud, raucous laughter drifted over to her on the wind and touched on her sensitive ears.

Every word that followed was said with a bit of a lilt.

Drunk, she thought, her thoughts clearing slightly.

Another round of laughter.

Men. More than one. All of them, definitely drunk.

One of the voices grew louder, increasing in volume. A thud thud thud of footsteps joined in with the laughter. A door groaned open, then must have slammed shut.

Seconds later, a whizzing sound….

The pungent scent of urine drifted through the air, and Celty wrinkled her nose.

Disgusting brute.

A man chanted a rowdy song under his breath, alternately singing and belching. Based on the odorous smell of his body – and his urine – not to mention the song he continued to sing, he would be within eyesight.

Celty froze every part of her body, not wanting to even breathe with such a foul person so close.

"Ho. What's this?" Someone spoke in a soft voice with words that were slightly slurred. She tensed.

"Oy! Lads! Come see what present the gods have bestowed on us today."

"You find your lucky star?" called another voice.

"If that's what you call this."

Celty's nostrils flared as she heard two more sets of feet join the first. She knew they were looming over her, and forced herself to exhale slowly, almost imperceptibly. With any luck, they'd think her drunk – or dead – and move on.

But Celty didn't think that would actually happen.

No. She'd always made her own luck in life.

Her eyelashes fluttered of their own accord, although she hadn't opened her eyes yet. One of them laughed, kicking her in the ribs with a pointed shoe.

"Oy there, whore. Get up. It's time for you to get to work."

"Lazy women."

"You're going to work for your keep tonight."

"I like 'em tied up."

"Less work for me, that way."

They chortled together as Celty's blood turned cold.

"My turn, lads. Here. Hold my belt. You know what to do with it if she gets frisky, like that one girl last year."

"Not you! Lemme have her. You had first dibs last time."

The men broke into a brief argument, shoving each other back and. The scuffle of their feet sounded not far from Celty's head, and she kept from flinching away by sheer willpower.

Don't move, she thought. Don't give them a single clue that you’re present and awake.

"Lads, stop. We'll all have her at the same time."

Like drunken idiots, they guffawed, chortling with renewed energy.

The first one stumbled over his feet, crashing into a wall. A bucket full of grains fell, spilling across the floor. Another crouched down near Celty. She smelled the foul yeast on his breath as he lowered close to her.

"Think she tastes like candy?"

"She's a whore. She'll taste like disease before anything else."

"Let's have a try."

Pain tore through Celty's head and neck when one of the men grabbed her hair and jerked her head back.

"Well, well," he murmured. "What a dirty, naughty little slut you must have been."

Celty snapped forward, closing her teeth firmly around the first thing she found. Flesh tore beneath her canines when the man howled and flung himself back and away, shrieking like a bewitched thing.

Blood dripped down her lips as Celty spat a chunk of nose onto the floor.

She opened her eyes; her vision was blurry, but clear enough to spy a waterfall of red pouring down a man’s face. He had stringy black hair and thin lips…and was squealing like a stuck pig.

"She bit me! The whore bit me. Kill her. KILL HER!"

The other two men stared at him in shock, their faces slack.

Celty dug her heels into the dirt floor and attempted to push herself back and away, but the heavy ropes weighed her hands down behind her back.

One of the others, a man with short blond hair that looked as if he'd hacked away at it without a mirror in the middle of the night, straightened suddenly. His rheumy, yellowed eyes stared right at her.

"Time to teach this whore a lesson," he snarled.

Celty tensed, preparing for an onslaught as the two men advanced toward her.

Yet mere seconds later, someone tackled the blond from behind, taking him to the hard packed floor.

Jin!

The man’s head slammed into the ground. He groaned, passing out, as the third grabbed Jin from behind. This man slapped Jin across the face, sending him flying against the wall.

Celty bucked against her manacles just as the blond started to rouse, moaning as if he were about to die. The other man advanced on Jin, swinging a leg back to kick him as hard as he could.

"No!"

The word tore out of Celty's throat. The man stopped, turning back to glare at her over his shoulder. Through the haze of dirt coating both his hair and face, Celty thought she saw umber hair and cool green eyes.

At his side, the first man still was blubbering, blood flowing in between his fingers as he clutched at the wound on his face.

"You gonna tell me what to do, you cannibal whore?" the umber-haired man sneered.

She growled, struggling against the rope. The metal manacles rubbed against her ankle, tearing open a spot.

The blond pushed up from the ground, seemingly a bit disoriented as he glanced around the room. Then he took one glance at Celty and snarled, "Kill her!"

The umber-haired man strode over and back-handed Celty. She flew back, her head dangling on her neck. The man advanced again, and slapped her a second time.

White lights broke out across Celty’s vision, and she became half-conscious.

Shouting filled the space. Celty glanced through bleary eyes to see a posse of men rush the two drunk men. The men stumbled back, hands held high.

Guards from the Hiwan Army.

Celty recognized their uniforms right away, even in her half-conscious state.

They grabbed the two drunk men, forcing them apart. A third guard approached the bleeding man, who still blubbered incoherently into his hands.

While the two drunk men attempted to defend themselves, Celty struggled through waves of darkness threatening to overtake her. Her vision waned, and her heart thudded in her ears.

Slowly, one minute at a time, Celty’s vision cleared. She snapped back to consciousness when she spied Goro running into the stable.

"What happened?" he cried, taking in the three foot soldiers and their leader. "What is this mess? Blood is everywhere. Who are these men? Celty! This is your doing, I know it. Trouble follows you everywhere."

A small voice piped up. "No, Uncle! It was not her. I saw everything."

Jin's young voice was the only sound for what felt like a long stretch of time. Even the guards and Goro quieted to let him talk. He described seeing the three men just before they attempted to rape her, and then her biting the nose off of one.

Celty listened without remorse, measuring the silence with every heartbeat. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, trickling down the back of her throat.

No doubt her nose was bleeding too; it would be another lovely bruise to add to her collection. Or was it that foul man's blood that she tasted?

Then again, did it matter?

The guard – a lieutenant – motioned to Jin's.

"Your son?"

"Bastard nephew," Goro spat. "My sister died and left him to me."

The lieutenant grunted and motioned toward the three on the ground. The other guards moved into action and yanked them from the ground. Goro affected a fake smile as the guards shoved the three drunk men out. Once they left, he turned to Celty with a murderous gaze.

"Even when you're have dead and tied up, you still get me into trouble! Hateful girl."

Celty tracked him from her half-slit eyes, but didn't bother responding. Goro never wanted a response – just someone to blame.

"Jin, go back to your shack. Get to sleep. No more heroics for the night."

Celty relished the silence once Goro shuffled away without another glance her direction. She used the chance to pull her mind back together.

The water, which had welled up in her eyes from being knocked in the face two times, trickled down her face as tears. The stinging pain in her nose suddenly felt overwhelming.

She shifted, attempting to find a comfortable position, but there was none. With eyes closed, Celty pressed her forehead back to the ground and listened.

After a few moments, the soft patter of feet moved across the stable.

She lifted her head, instantly alert. A pair of dark eyes peered around the corner

"Celty?"

"Jin," she whispered. "Have they come back for their revenge? Where are there?"

Jin advanced a few steps, shaking his head.

Her fears fell away. There was nothing sinister here anymore. Nothing around her felt the way it had when the three men were near.

Jin glanced behind him, then crouched on the floor next to her. He dropped a crust of bread onto the ground, and a small, leather pouch of water.

Celty nearly whimpered. Water.

"Please," she gasped, "help me drink."

He nodded once, holding the leather pouch to her lips. The cool water dribbled into her mouth. She gulped it greedily, draining the entire thing until it lay deflated and empty. Once she finished, she tilted her head back.

"Thank you."

He sank to his haunches, peering over his shoulder again. When he spoke, his voice was so low that Celty had to strain to hear. "My uncle will not approve of me feeding you, so you must eat before I go and get rid of every morsel."

She eyed the bread next to her mouth, so hungry she almost couldn't stand the sight of it. She leaned forward, nibbling off a bite. He watched, nodding in approval. The taste and texture of the food restored some of her strength, and with her thirst slated, Celty almost felt human again.

When she moved closer to take another bite, Jin flinched.

"You don't need to fear me."

He stared at her.

"I . . . I am not evil, like the rest of them." Her brow furrowed. "There is no evil here right now. I can . . . I can sense when there is. I can tell when a bad soul is present. Something inside of me just knows. You? You're a good one."

A toothy smile stretched across his face.

"How do you know?"

"I can feel it."

"Like magic?"

"Different."

Jin tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowed. "How did my uncle find you? You're not like the rest of the slaves. I meet all of them."

"Are you a slave?"

He shrugged. "Not really, but not that different from you either. Uncle gives me food and a shelter to sleep in, but that's mostly it."

"And you shared with me?"

He smiled. She managed a tremulous one back.

"Thank you. For the food and water, and for saving my life."

"And you?" He reached out, touching a strand of her hair. She sucked in a sharp breath and he pulled away. "Where did you come from? You must be special if trouble follows you, and if you have the guts to bite the nose off a drunk man about to rape you."

Celty thought back, wondering how to explain to Jin that she didn't actually know how she came to be with Goro as a slave. The great black maw in her mind seemed to encompass everything in her early years.

"There's not much to tell."

"Don't be modest. You must have a wonderful story."

"Maybe. If I do, I don't remember it."

His eyes widened. "At all?"

She shrugged. "Nothing."

"How strange."

"Maybe it was nothing special enough to remember."

With these words she could suddenly see Jin's mind run away with itself; no doubt the lad was picturing all kinds of dramatic, beautiful possibilities.

But those couldn't be true.

Celty forced her thoughts away; she had bigger things to worry about tonight. Her stomach ached, unused to the refreshment. She'd finished the last of the bread and every crumb that went with it.

"Jin," she murmured, leaning toward him. "Have you ever wanted to escape?"

His brow lifted. "Escape?"

"To be free of your uncle's foul moods and heavy hand? Release me. Let me go free. I'll take you to freedom with me. I feel that…something is coming soon. Something bad. Something . . . big.”

Celty's mind flashed back to the slave auction and those in the cages. Especially the two men in the cage with her. They had been big; strong, with sinewy arms and broad shoulders. Their sullen, careless arrogance had set them apart. They'd even met her gaze – something no slave did, not even to each other.

Something about those men had been different, and without knowing how, she felt the two had something to do with the coming darkness.

“I don't want to be here for it, and I don't want you to be either," she continued.

Jin opened his mouth, but closed it again. Creases formed on his brow. "Escape?" he questioned.

"Yes! Run away. To freedom."

"To do what?"

"Whatever you want. Survive. Find ways to be happy. Get away from your uncle's oppressive hand."

Jim fell into thought, and Celty waited, giving him space to think. Finally he glanced at her, blinked, blushed, and looked down.

"It's risky."

"All good things are," she said.

"Uncle would track us. Kill us. Especially me. It's bad enough that I exist, but if I were to embarrass him?" Jin shuddered. "He's a proud, ruthless man. He won't allow a slave and his bastard nephew to make a fool of him. I'm sorry, but I can't do it. It wouldn't be right – for either of us. Besides," Jin motioned to her with a wave of his hand, "you're in no condition to go anywhere."

"Jin, it's better out there. I promise."

He turned away, swallowing. "Maybe. But maybe not. The life of a runaway slave can't be any better than a tenured slave. At least here I have a shelter. Some food. Right?"

A pleading tone lingered in Jin’s voice, and she realized that he really meant it. He was sorry. But his fear ran deeper than hers.

Perhaps he feared all the things that freedom would bring. Or perhaps Goro really was someone to fear if she should make a fool out of him by escaping.

"It's all right, Jin,” she answered softly. “I understand."

His gaze lifted back to hers, and met it. "Really?"

"Yes. Thank you. You've already done so much for me. How can I ever repay you?"

His blush returned in an instant. "No need. Just one slave helping out another, I guess."

"Goro was right – you should get some sleep while you can. Something will be happening tomorrow. You need to be as ready as possible.

Jin nodded once, his lips pressed together, and made to go. He hesitated, locked his gaze with hers again, and then slowly stood up and shuffled out of the stall where she was chained.

Celty lay back in the straw, staring at the moon through the warped boards in the ceiling. In her throat, and deep in her chest, she quietly chanted a prayer to Canandra – the Lady of the Moon. The words seemed to thrum in the air as Celty prayed.

For strength. For power. For retribution. For the freedom for which she ached.

Light from the moon spilled through the boards, illuminating her face in thin bands of light. When she neared the end of the chant and uttered the final plea of help, the moon flashed a brilliant crimson red.

Celty caught her breath. The scarlet rays bled through the boards like lines of dripping blood, setting her violet eyes aglow in a celestial promise.