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After a time the almost soundless whisper of soft-shod Phaerie feet on the moist earthen floor of the tunnel changed to the scuff of leather against stone, and the alien voices were sharpened by a ringing echo. At the same time the grip of her abductors shifted, her head was suddenly lower than her feet, and the jouncing became far more pronounced than before.

Maya’s eyes snapped open. The walls of the tunnel had turned from earth to rough-hewn rock, and she was being carried headfirst down an uneven stone staircase that was lit at intervals by crystal globes that glowed with a warm, dancing, green-gold light like sunlight seen through trees. At the bottom of the staircase was a pair of tall gates with bars of twisted iron that blocked the passage from floor to roof. These were watched by another pair of guards, one of them a Phaerie woman. Again, uncomprehended words passed between the new captors and the old, and Maya was lowered to the ground and held upright as the female Phaerie ran expert hands over her body and limbs—just as though she were a horse at market.

The warrior, humiliated and incensed, drew back her head to spit in the woman’s face—and was brought up short by the cold, pitiless iron of the alien creature’s stare, which turned her blood to pure ice in her veins. The Phaerie lifted a warning hand, and Maya swallowed the mouthful of saliva hastily.—The woman hit her anyway—left, right, once on either side of her face—and Maya’s head exploded in pain as the touch of the Phaerie left behind a trail of freezing fire that seemed to eat like acid into the tortured bone of her skull. She was still screaming when they tore the clothes from her body and fastened a slender chain of some ice-cold metal around her neck. Then they opened the tall iron gates and thrust her through them, to fall down a short flight of half a dozen steps and roll to a standstill, naked, breathless and bruised, on the dusty cavern floor below.

“My dear—are you all right?”

Maya, her vision blurred with tears of pain, couldn’t see who was speaking, but at least the voice sounded female, briskly kind—and human. “Of course I’m bloody not,” she muttered thickly, for she had bitten right through her lip.—Nonetheless, she groped for the hand that reached out to help her, and used it to lever herself to her knees, where she spat out a mouthful of dust and blood. Knuckling the salty moisture from her eyes, she looked up to see a tall, bony woman of middle years stooping over her, wearing nothing but a thin gold chain around her neck and a frown of concern.

Rubbing gingerly at the side of her face, that still throbbed with the ebbing remnants of that deadly, aching chill, Maya blinked up at the woman. “Who in Chathak’s name are you?”

The frown went through an infinitesimal shift from concern to disapproval.

“I’m Licia,” the woman replied. She withdrew her proffered hand and with a brusque, embarrassed gesture smoothed her silver-shot brown hair, which was scraped back from her face into the severest of knots. “The lacemaker from Nexis,” she added, as though that explained everything.

Maya rubbed harder at her aching head, sure she was missing the significance of all this. She looked beyond the woman to see that she was in a gigantic cavern, lit by further clusters of the golden globes that starred the roof and walls. The ground sloped downhill from the level area at the bottom of the stairs where she knelt, and below her the warrior could see a cluster of small stone shelters built around the edges of a shimmering dark mere. What in the name of all the Gods was this place?

Still confused, she turned back to Licia. “Well, if you’re from Nexis, what in perdition are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Good gracious, where have you been for the past five years?” The woman sounded shocked. “How can you possibly not know what has been happening?”

The air of the cavern was dry and comfortably warm, yet Maya shivered, wishing desperately that she had something to cover her nakedness. She felt oddly and unpleasantly vulnerable like this, and somehow that made it hard to give her whole attention to what the woman was saying. The Phaerie’s blow seemed to have scattered her wits far more than an equivalent clout from a human being would have done. And deep in her heart, a small, cold core of fear was beginning to expand like a germinating seed.

She glared at the woman. “What sort of a stupid thing is that to say? Quite obviously I don’t have a bloody clue what’s going on....” All at once, she realized that she would gain absolutely nothing from antagonizing this woman, who, from her stony expression, didn’t look as though she suffered fools gladly, either. Maya bit off her angry words. “I apologize,” she sighed. “I might be sore, confused, and downright scared, but there’s no need to take it out on you.” She held out her hand. “My name is Maya, and I’m a warrior. And you’re right—I’ve been away from Nexis for several years.”

Licia’s stern expression softened. “You poor thing—of course you’re afraid, and you’re bound to be confused. These abductions didn’t come easy to any of us—it’s always a dreadful shock at first. You come back with me to my shelter, and I’ll get you something warm to drink.” She reached out with a surprisingly strong grip and helped the warrior to her feet.

“And please—could you spare me something to wear?” Maya asked her hopefully.

“Any old rag ...”

“I’m afraid not.” Licia shook her head regretfully. “When the work gangs go outside the Phaerie allow them clothing, but it’s taken away from them again when they return. In the caverns they keep us naked. Like animals.” She spat out the words as though the taste of them disgusted her. “It all helps to wear down our hope and spirit—to tame us, as the Phaerie put it.”

Shock coursed through Maya, as she stopped dead in her tracks. Suddenly she understood. “You mean the Phaerie are using humans as slaves?” She remembered Hellorin, D’arvan’s father, and his wry, half-amused kindness toward her. Did he know she was here? Had he ordered it? Surely he wouldn’t do this to his own son’s lover? Then she remembered the long months he had condemned her to spend as that double-damned unicorn, unable even to communicate with the one she loved—and suddenly, she wasn’t so certain. When it came down to it, she was only a mere, despised human, and Hellorin was capable of anything—anything at all. And if he would do this to her, what would he do to D’arvan, his delinquent son? A shiver of dread coursed through her.

Licia tugged at her elbow, urging her forward between the rows of rough shelters. There was not another soul in sight. “Of course they use us as slaves—those bastards.” The epithet, spoken with such venom, was startling, coming as it did from a woman who looked so old-maidish and prim. “What did you expect—they brought us here because they like our company?” An ugly scowl settled across the lacemaker’s heavy brows. “Although they like the company of some well enough,” she added bitterly. “There’s many a young lass has bought herself out of here by joining the enemy and mothering Phaerie offspring—for some reason the immortal blood always seems to run true.” She sighed. “There are some days down here in the dark, when I would sell my soul for fresh air and a glimpse of sunlight, I can hardly blame them. Other times, I would stick a knife through their treacherous hearts as soon as blink—but there, I was too damn old and barren to be asked, so maybe I’m only jealous.”

“What do the others do—the folk down here?” Maya asked, in some trepidation.—Licia shrugged. “Some wait on the Phaerie as servants, cooking and cleaning, fetching and carrying and the like. Some folk labor at building and carving new living quarters under the hill, and some work in the fields and barns, tending the crops and herds. After all,” she added nastily, “it would be far too much to expect the great and powerful Phaerie to plough or hoe or shovel cow shit. They wouldn’t sully their skinny white hands. We others—the skilled artisans,” she added proudly, “we make whatever our masters need, and our only reward is the food in our bellies and the continuing absence of pain.”