Kord laughed again, the sound of it dry, rasping "One of you Which one would that be? Come here, bitch "
Isana faced him evenly and did not move
Kord's face flushed red and dangerous "I said come here "
"She can't hear you, Kord I saw to that"
"Did you'" His eyes moved from Isana to the huddling woman behind and beside her Odiana flinched, even at the glance, haunted eyes widening
"No," Isana said, though she knew the words were useless "Don't look "
But Odiana glanced up at Kord The murderous expression on his face, a finger he jabbed at the ground in front of him, were apparently enough to activate the discipline collar Odiana let out a sudden breathless shriek and fell to the ground, clawing at the collar Even as she did, she struggled against her own convulsing body to crawl closer to Kord, to obey the command he'd given her. Isana reached down to hold her back, but the sudden wave of terror and unbearable anguish that washed up through that touch nearly blinded her, and she stumbled back and away.
Kord let out a harsh laugh and took a step forward, taking the woman's face in his hands. "That's better," he said. "You be a good girl. I'm going to break your pretty neck and then put that collar on Isana. Hold still."
Odiana whimpered, body still twitching, and did not struggle against him.
"Kord, no!" Isana shouted.
The door suddenly rattled on its frame. There was a hesitation, and then it rattled again, as though someone was trying to get in and hadn't expected to find it bolted. Kord whirled to face it.
Desperate, Isana cast the globe of the furylamp in her hand at Kord. It struck the Steadholder in the back of the head. The furylamp shattered, the spark imp inside it flashing into brilliant light for a moment, and then gone. The interior of the warehouse sank into darkness, and Kord began to curse viciously.
Isana swallowed her terror and hurried forward, through the darkness. There was a horrible, frantic moment of feeling in the dark, listening for Odiana's whimpers and Kord's heavy, snarling breathing. Her fingers found Odiana's hair first, and she dragged the slave woman against her. She got the woman to her feet and started dragging her farther back into the warehouse, hoping that she moved in the right direction. Odiana began to whimper, and Isana clapped one hand firmly over the woman's mouth.
"Don't do this, Isana," growled Kord's voice, from somewhere in the dark, back toward the door. "You're just drawing things out. We both know how this is going to end."
Isana felt a ripple in the ground beneath the wooden floorboards, but knew that Kord's fury would have difficulty locating them through the wood, just as it had through the ice. She continued to draw Odiana deeper back into the warehouse, until she bumped against the back wall. She felt her way with her hands, and though the predawn light was showing through cracks in the wall, there still was not enough light to see. She pressed the woman down into the dubious shelter between two crates, then lifted Odiana's own hands and pressed them over the woman's mouth. The slave shook almost violently, but managed to nod. Isana drew her hands away from the woman and turned to face the darkness.
"Come on, Isana," Kord said, his voice more distant. "The collar's not so
bad. Once you put it on, you won't have any more doubts. You can see the good part of it, too. I'll do that for you."
Isana swallowed, revolted, and debated her options. Simplest was to shout for help. There were hundreds of people within Garrison. Surely some would hear her.
Surely. But at the same time, she would be giving her position away to Kord. She did not know how long it might take help to break down the barred warehouse door, but it surely would not take Kord long to break her neck. Though it made her seethe with frustration, she could do little but remain silent and try to find a way to escape the warehouse or to deal with Kord directly. She crouched in the darkness and struggled to think of other options.
The ground rumbled and shook for perhaps a minute, and then there was a sudden round of cheers and blowing horns from outside. Useless. She didn't know what had happened, but she would never be heard over that din. She had to find out where Kord was and either circle out to open the door or attack him herself-and that would be mad. Even if she could find him, he was far stronger than she. She could loose Rill on him, but what if she wasn't fast enough? No, such a confrontation was a last desperate resort.
A calculated risk, then. She took a breath and tried to keep her voice monotone, droning, to better conceal the direction. "You think that will make me happy, Kord?"
His reply came from much nearer to her, perhaps down the same row of crates. "Once I get that on you, whatever I want makes you happy."
"I suppose a man like you needs something like that," she said, moving back, trying to circle around to another row to slip past him.
"Keep talking. Just going to make it sweeter when I get my hands on you." His voice was on the move as well.
From outside, there was a series of shouts, a trembling in the ground, as of thousands of feet striking it. Horns blew the signals to engage, and Isana knew that the Garrison was under attack.
Kord spoke again, and his voice came from not ten feet away from her, in the darkness, so close that she could suddenly feel the cloud of rage and lust around him like a hot, stinking mist. "See there? Bigger fish to fry. Leaves me all alone with you."
She didn't dare reply. Instead, keeping her movements as quiet as she could, she moved across the row to the far side, to press against the crates there. If she strained, she could hear Kord moving slowly down the row of
crates, within a long arm's reach, now, but even more, she could sense him against her, the churning muck of his ugly emotions. It drew even with her, and she held her breath as it crept on past, the pressure on her senses slowly changing, as though something warm and moist brushed over her left cheek, then her mouth, then her right cheek, as Kord crept past.
But he hesitated there, and Isana held her own position. Had he sensed her, somehow? Did he know she was there?
"Smell you," Kord murmured, his voice very close. "Smell you. Smells good. Makes me hungry."
Isana held her breath.
He moved, sudden and fast, the sense of him flashing across her cheek, mouth, cheek again, as he moved back toward the door. She lost him after only a second. He had moved beyond the range of what her crafting could feel.
But it came to her, suddenly, that she had a weapon he did not. His fury might be able to lend him tremendous strength, but he would not be able to use it to see. His power could reach no farther than his own fingers. But she could use her own crafting to locate him, even in the total darkness, if her reach had been longer. How could she extend it?
By provoking him, she realized. By stoking his emotions to a brighter blaze, he would radiate them more strongly, make himself more easy to sense. Dangerous plan, indeed. But if she could pinpoint where he was, she could slip past him to the door and go for help.
She moved, first, back to the far end of the rows, picking another at random, before she started down it and lifted her voice again. "Do you know how we escaped, Kord?"
Kord let out a growling sound, now several yards away. "Some damn fool didn't patch the roof right."
"Were you too drunk to remember?" Isana taunted, gently. "You sent Aric to patch that roof."
"No," Kord growled. "Wouldn't do that."
"You did. You hit his face right there in front of me and made him."
Kord's voice answered, harsher, panting, moving closer. "Happens. It happens. I get mad. He understands."
"No he doesn't, Kord," Isana said, even more quietly. "He helped us escape. He made holes in the roof so that meltwater would run in and give us our crafting back."