Water.

Esania woke to the sound of water being poured into a glass.

Am I dreaming?

No, there was a tray on the bed beside her, and on it was a silver cup and a jug and a dish laden with some sort of gelatinous pink meat.

The meat was sliced into delicate strips, which were arranged in a perfect circle that reminded her of that Earthian delicacy, sashimi.

Her stomach growled.

She looked up, half expecting to see the shimmering winged monster again, but instead she was greeted by a blue-skinned Naaga.

It—she couldn’t tell whether it was male or female—stared back at her with an unnerving white gaze, its featureless eyes devoid of any pupil or iris.

She froze. “Don’t touch me,” she warned, crossing her arms defensively. She’d seen the Naaga on the Hythra before the massive destroyer had crashed down to the surface of Khira. One of the blue creatures had almost killed Calexa.

The Naaga shrugged and spread its hands wide. Then it pointed at the water and food. “Tevch,” it said, then left.

“Wait…” But before Esania could say anything, the Naaga disappeared through a small side-door that swung shut with a resounding clang.

Huh. She hadn’t noticed that door before.

There would be time to examine it later. Right now, she just needed to eat.

She chugged down the water, finished one glass, then poured herself another, and another. It was cool and pure and refreshing, and just about the best thing she’d ever tasted.

Then she turned to the meat. What was it? Protein, obviously. But would it make her sick? On this one, she would just have to trust that her enhanced Primean immune system and bioenhanced liver—capable of eliminating toxins at a must faster rate than humans—would be able to protect her.

It wouldn’t make sense that her strange alien captor would want to poison her.

There was a utensil on the side; a long, elegant two-pronged fork made of a shiny metal that looked like a cross between copper and gold. Esania stared at it for a moment, blinking. She shook her head as the surreal nature of her surroundings—the ornate bed, the soaring ceilings, the pristine polished floors—hit her like a punch in the gut. And this small detail, this perfectly formed instrument… After living in the forest for weeks, it was so strange to be holding something so finely crafted.

Wherever she was, she wasn’t in Vradhu territory anymore. This was a sophisticated, highly advanced civilization.

Drakhin.

And now she was eating mysterious pink flesh with a Drakhin fork. At least it didn’t smell bad.

Her stomach rumbled again, and her mouth began to water. Without a second thought, Esania picked up a piece of the strange meat with her fork and ate.

Hmm…

Cool. Firm. Slightly sweet, yet fishy.

Not unpleasant, though.

And definitely raw.

Slowly, her energy returned. She finished her food, drank down the jug of water, and got up off the bed, walking barefoot across the cool stone floor. Really, it was a pleasant space, bright and airy and just the right temperature, reminding her of the temperature-controlled garden-spaces of the Serakhine, where the artificial sun had provided them with warmth at a constant twenty-four degrees Celsius all year round.

She wanted to look outside, to get a sense of her surroundings, but really, those windows were too damn high. What kind of person made a room with windows one couldn’t see out of?

Esania’s blood ran cold as she realized what this deceptively pleasant room really was—a prison.

She ran her palm along the wall, feeling its rough-yet-smooth surface, feeling for any cracks or weaknesses or defects, until she came to a small irregularity; a part of the wall that shifted slightly beneath her fingers.

She pushed against it, and white dust fell to the floor.

What is this?

She pushed again, and bits of stone flaked away, revealing a faint outline. It looked like a part of the wall was loose, and perhaps she could just pry it away like a puzzle piece, revealing whatever was out there.

Esania almost broke into a run as she returned to the bed and retrieved the copper-gold fork. She inserted its thin prongs into a crack above the defect and pulled.

One, two, three. Three tugs and a chunk of wall the size of her fist fell away, revealing…

Another chunk.

Painstakingly, she removed this too, then another one, inserting her fork into the narrow space and jimmying the thing until the chunks slid toward her. At least there was enough space between the solid wall and the pieces, as if someone had designed them to be removed this way.

It was slow, repetitive work, but Esania was driven by desperation and the Primean obsessiveness that kicked in every time she started a task.

She wouldn’t rest until she was finished.

By the time she reached the last piece, she was breathless and sweating, her body reminding her that she wasn’t yet fully recovered.

Imagine if the Drakhin walked in and saw her now; clutching a metal fork, her face and arms covered in white dust, wall-rocks scattered around her feet.

Exhausted.

Again.

She didn’t care. She had to know what was on the other side.

A small cavity had opened up in the wall now, just large and wide enough to admit her head.

What is this thing?

Why have something like this in the seamless wall, and why go to such lengths to conceal it? It was almost as if someone had been slowly carving out sections of the wall with a small implement… perhaps they’d been trying to escape.

She shuddered.

Esania took a deep breath and removed the final piece, a flat stone the size of her fist.

Bright sunlight shot through the wall, nearly blinding her. It was followed by a gust of cool, crisp breeze. She blinked the dust from her eyes and peered outside.

And froze.

The first thing she saw was the brilliant blue sky of Khira, stretching out into eternity. She stared out into the distance and saw the hazy blue outline of a mountain range. A vast canopy of trees stretched out alongside it, shades of red and orange and brown and green coalescing to form a brilliant patchwork of color.

Large bodies of water were scattered amongst the trees, shimmering in the bright sunlight so that they appeared almost silver. Esania angled her head, trying to look directly downwards, but it was impossible. The opening was too small.

But she could see the shimmering body of water that surrounded the tower. A massive lake surrounded her, stretching all the way to the foot of the mountain range.

Spectacular.

A prison with a spectacular view. If the lake surrounded this tower on all sides, then there was no way she could escape.

As the wind whipped at the ends of her braids, a terrible realization struck her. Judging from how far into the distance she could see, she was very, very high up indeed.

“Tu kyi naka?” A sharp voice jolted her out of her observations, and she yanked her head out of the hole, spinning around. The blue servant stood in the center of the room, eyes narrowed, arms folded in front of him—well, at least she thought it was a he—in a distinctly disapproving manner.

Esania tightened her grip around the fork. “I was just taking a look,” she said slowly, knowing she was caught in the act and there was nothing she could do about it. She shrugged. What was the big scary Drakhin going to do if he found out? Punish her?

There was no escaping from this tower. Not through the hole in the wall, anyway. That was a certain route to death.

A suicide route…

Unless one had wings.

To her surprise, the Naaga just muttered something under his breath and scurried across the room, pushing her out of the way. He gathered up the wall-pieces and put them back in perfect order, as if he’d done this a hundred times before.

With a sigh, he retrieved something from inside his white tunic—a tubelike metal device—and sucked up the dust until not a single speck was left on the glistening surface. His movements were fast and efficient, and the whole mess was cleaned up in just a few seconds.

The Naaga pointed to the other side of the room. A clear-walled tub filled to the brim with water had materialized out of nowhere. Fresh, crisply folded garments were arranged on the bed.

“Pardu,” he said, the meaning obvious.

Bathe.

They exchanged a look. The Naaga tapped his foot. There was an air of mild exasperation about him, even though his elegant features conveyed very little emotion.

“Don’t worry, I get it.” Esania turned away from the wall, brushing the white dust off her arms. That earned her a sharp look from the Naaga.

Oops.

He’d just cleaned the floor. She made a gesture of apology with her hand. “You’re not going to stay here while I have a bath, are you?”

The Naaga dropped to his knees and cleaned up the rest of her mess.

“Let me guess. The mighty Drakhin wants me cleaned up and dressed to his liking before he’s willing to come in here again?”

No answer. Of course, Esania wasn’t expecting one, but speaking her mind helped her to feel as if she still retained some semblance of control.

So why did she feel like she was the sacrificial virgin all of a sudden?

The Naaga stood. Esania waved him away. Go.

He walked straight past her without any acknowledgment whatsoever, disappearing through the little door on the other side of the room.

She didn’t know whether to feel offended or relieved. Briefly, she contemplated not bathing at all just to spite the infuriating Drakhin, but the water looked so inviting, and she hadn’t had a proper bath since…

Well, in longer than she could remember.

If she was going to be the servant, energy source, whatever, then at least she would be a clean one.