Chapter 10
Zahara could feel someone staring at her. She was just rousing from sleep, tendrils of her dream drifting in and out of her mind. Her eyes opened to be looking at a woman with dark brown hair and the largest, roundest golden-colored eyes she’d ever seen.
“Good morning,” she said with a smile to Zahara.
“Good morning.”
“I’m Fawn. I will be your roommate as well as teacher. Mistress tells me you have a beautiful voice, and my partner Raven and I are happy to have you join us.” She gave her another inviting smile, moving about the room straightening a few things. She brushed out her long brown hair, and Zahara couldn’t help but stare at her. For some reason her presence reminded her of her own mother, and a pang of sadness struck her. She tried to push it down, but the woman heard her intake of breath.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m okay. You just remind me of someone.” She tried to ignore the feelings that rose within her.
“Your mother?” The woman came over to Zahara and took her hands in her own. “In this place we aren’t ashamed of the pain we went through. Raven and I both will strive to help you be happy—to find your place amongst this household. I know it’s hard to let go of the past, but you must try to remain joyful. Mistress thrives on happy humans. For your own sake, let go of the pain of the past. Forgive. Move forward.” Fawn gave a gentle smile, her golden eyes filled with warmth. “Give yourself a good cry, wash your face, and then we shall meet you down the hall in our music room. Alright?”
“Thank you.” Zahara watched the woman leave, wondering how she had come to accept her fate so easily. She allowed the emotions of her family’s death to hit her for a few minutes, sobbing quietly against her pillow. After the moment of weakness subsided, she pushed herself off the bed, splashed her face with some water that was in a basin on an end table, and walked out of the room.
Other slaves were busy cleaning, humming, and smiling. Something didn’t seem right. How could they just accept their fate, despite how kind their Mistress and Master were? Was it a survival thing? Was that how she was going to be in just a short time? Pretending that what happened to her and her family wasn’t real? That this world of fashion, glitter, and lights would make her happy and content? Zahara’s dad used to tell her she was too stubborn for her own good—but she knew he’d also admired that about her as well. She didn’t ever want to settle for some man who would coddle her. She wanted a purpose. She wanted to be able to fight for herself.
The music room was full of windows, filling the area with a warm glow. Fawn and who she assumed was Raven were waiting, quietly talking to one another.
“There she is,” Fawn said, with hands ushered out. She gave Zahara a hug. “Has the Mistress named you yet?”
Zahara stared at her for a few seconds. “Named me?”
“Oh yes. We all have names that were given to us. You didn’t think my mother would call me Fawn now did you?” The woman gave a soft musical laugh. Zahara had in fact thought that, but she wasn’t going to say anything.
“No, she hasn’t named me. My name is Zahara.”
“Well, that shall do for now. I suppose Mistress will go about naming you later,” Raven said from behind Fawn. He had dark black hair with strikingly blue eyes. His face wasn’t extremely handsome, but his eyes made up for it.
“Shall we begin?” Fawn said to the both of them.
Zahara was in awe as Fawn and Raven sang a series of complex notes, filling the air with perfect pitch.
“Try this,” Fawn said. She sang out a melody that Zahara matched.
“You’re a natural.” Raven patted her on the back.
***
Zahara awoke out of sleep, feeling hungry. Perhaps a snack in the kitchen will put me back to sleep. She climbed out of her covers, trying her best not to disturb Fawn, who was curled up fast asleep. Wrapping her hands around her arms, she headed toward the door, stomach growling. I hear you. She shook her head in annoyance at the sound.
Zahara cracked the door open and made her way toward where the kitchen was located. The house had its own musical sounds, creaks, groans, and soft thrumming noises lulling in the background.
Zahara was still in awe of the artwork, fancy furniture, and colorful statues that were displayed beautifully throughout the entire house. She paused before one, gently caressing the face of a statue of a little girl who was dancing.
A momentary pain filled her heart at the sight. Ray… She thought about how she used to watch her little brother dance under the sunlight without a care. I miss you, little one. She shoved the painful thoughts away continuing to walk toward the kitchen.
The sound of footsteps caught her attention, and she had the urge to hide. She tucked herself behind one of the statues as someone approached.
Moon? The young, happy girl drifted down the hallway, her light blue pala brushing the wooden floor. She paused before the music room, looked around once, and slipped inside. Curiosity getting the best of her, Zahara waited; she noticed Moon didn’t completely shut the door. What is she doing at this hour? With great care, she walked across the hallway and peeked through the crack.
Zahara saw Moon rest her hand on a white statue of a woman and a man playing an instrument. What is she doing?
Moon grabbed the woman’s arm and gave it a gentle tug. A portion of the wall gave a soft thrum, and slowly Zahara watched as it eased into an entryway. What is back there?
Moon disappeared through the wall, a light hum coming from the girl’s throat. The wall closed behind her. Zahara would never have known that a girl had just walked through it unless she’d seen it with her own eyes. This I have to see for myself. I’ll have to come back later. She quietly retreated back to the hallway, hurried and got herself something to eat, and headed back to bed.
***
Zahara heard Moon go back to her room and climbed out of bed, heart pounding. I have to see what’s back there. She quietly walked down the hall and slipped through the door of the music room. The open area was bathed in shadows; white statues that normally looked cheery had an eerie overtone to them. She made her way over to the statue and gave the arm a light tug. The entryway formed, and she quietly headed inside.
The moment Zahara stepped in, she could hear a soft humming noise, like a gentle giant sleeping somewhere down the long hall. The door slid shut, startling her. I hope I can get back out.
The hallway was dimly lit with small glowing orbs, creating blue abstract art along the wall. Zahara moved down the aisle, her motions fluid like a cat on the prowl. She paused before an unmarked door. Here goes… She turned the handle and shoved it open.
The room had shelves lining each wall: food, jugs of water, and other supplies were neatly arranged. Why are Lon and Fanna hiding supplies?
She headed toward the next door. Again, more supplies, mostly filled with the tiny black jars of ointment Lon manufactured somehow.
Zahara quickly moved on once more, opening doors and coming across more and more supplies. She paused before the last door, smelling a strange odor wafting in the air.
She pressed her ear to the door and heard a soft humming noise. There’s some kind of a machine in there. With a heavy push, she turned the handle and opened the door. The strange odor overpowered her as she entered the room. It’s a garden. Zahara’s eyes widened at the sight of growing vines, black plants, and a small stream running through the entire thing. A see-through tube filled with green liquid was flowing up and down like waves in the ocean. This place is gigantic. It must be where he grows his ingredients. Zahara glided through the room taking in the beauty of the plant life. It sounded as if they were humming a quiet tune. Her eyes were drawn back to the green tube in the center of it all.
The longer she studied it, the more she noticed something odd. It wasn’t liquid per say. Zahara climbed as close as she could to the clear container, her hand brushing up against it. Skinny tubes raced up the side, traveling along
the top of the ceiling and into the far wall of the garden.
What is that? Zahara followed the skinny tubes, until she hit the corner of the garden. A door was embedded into the wall, and a thin slit of glass was installed. There was no handle, nothing to indicate how to get inside the room. She squinted her eyes, peering through. A green fog swirled around inside some sort of clear container, much like the one in the center of the garden.
Zahara concentrated harder and noticed that something appeared to be inside…a…body of some sort. What is that? Her fingers explored the edge of the door, trying to figure out a way to get in. Is Lon and Fanna holding someone down here? She searched around as if the handle would somehow appear out of thin air. She pressed her hand up against a strange flat part of the door and felt several indents as if a key would go there.
Zahara peered through the slit again. The fog cleared for a moment, and she got a better look at whatever was inside the tube. Oh my god! A green face appeared, animal-like, with long ears, fur along the top of its head and down its neck. The fog started building again, but before it did she saw some sort of wings tucked up tight against the sides of the glass. What is that thing? The side of the glass tube read: Zoetic Co.
Zahara turned around, feeling disturbed by the creature. She was about to leave when she noticed a string of vines—a curtain hiding something beyond. What’s this? She brushed the plants aside, peeking her head to see. Oh wow! A canopy bed rested amongst a display of trees, flowers, a stream, and golden, blue, and purple vines that weaved their way all over the walls. This is…amazing. Why is this here? Colorful glass statues guarded over the streams, magnificent wooden art was also strategically placed throughout.
She tiptoed into the hidden portion of the garden, drinking in the beauty that surrounded her on all sides. Wow… Her hand brushed the pale blue comforter resting on the canopy bed. I wish… Sadness crept up her throat at the thought of Jonathan. She turned back around, walked out of the majestic hidden room, and left the magic of what she’d just seen.
Chapter 11
Something soothing touched Jonathan’s skin. His eyes fluttered open to be looking into the eyes of a young woman around the age of twenty. Her light brown hair was swept back into a loose bun, her gentle fingers smearing something black against his chest.
“Good morning, I’m Moon. Mistress told me to take good care of you.” She gave him a soft smile, making her look prettier. She continued ministering to the burns on his chest, humming under her breath as she did.
“I’m Jonathan.”
She gave a nod. “Mistress told me you came from the Quarry.” Her brows furrowed as she said the word Quarry, and he wondered if she’d known someone who’d been sent there. “Dreadful place that is. Some of the men from my village were sent there for sport because they’d put up such a fight at the warehouse.”
Jonathan felt there was more to the story but remained silent. More than likely she’d lost someone she’d loved there.
“Mistress is wonderful to work for. She is a bit spoiled, but she treats most of us well. She lets me eat her leftovers at the table. She tells me I’m her favorite human in the house.” Moon gave him a smile as she finished up with his chest and sat back. “There. That should heal up in no time. Obsidian Gel is some kind of miracle. Master invented it. It heals up the burns very quickly.”
Jonathan looked up taking in his surroundings. The room had twelve foot ceilings, with high strung white lights around the top of it that glittered. The bed he was laying on was soft, and a small nightstand was to his right where a glowing orb sat. The wooden floor had a blue furry rug resting on top of it, and a white chest was against one wall. He’d never seen such beautiful things in his entire life.
“We don’t all live in rooms such as these, but Mistress said you were special. She told me that you defeated Mog.” Moon looked absolutely impressed by the notion. “How ever did you do that?”
“Dumb luck,” he said with a forced laugh.
“I guess so.” Moon rose to her feet, brushing off the front of her light blue pala. “There is fresh clothes for you to wear lying to your right. Mistress likes to dress us up.” She giggled in her hand. “If you treat her well she will reward you, Jonathan. But remember she is still a Citizen, so don’t cross her.” She gave him one final smile and made her way to the door. “Oh, and one more thing. After your chest is healed up, take a bath. Mistress doesn’t enjoy dirty humans in her house. The washroom is through that door. There is soap and running water.” She nodded once more and walked out of the room.
Jonathan stared at the door for a solid thirty seconds before shaking his head. How had he even gotten here? One moment he was facing death, and the next moment he was being treated like a pet. Thank you, God, for the second chance.
***
“Look who’s feeling much better!” A cheery voice rose in the air as Jonathan walked out of his room, down the hall, and into a sitting area. The area was decorated with off-white furniture, a pale yellow rug against the wooden floor, and sparkling lights hung high.
“Look at those green eyes! Oh, what a beautiful man.” Fanna rushed over to him and brushed her finger against his cheek. “Let me see those.” She tilted her head back and forth, puckering her lips. Jonathan could smell a sweet floral scent drifting off of her. Her golden curls were falling around her fair shoulders, her pale pink pala drooping fashionably. “I told Lon you were worth saving. I don’t care if I have a hundred humans, you’re special.” She planted a kiss on his cheek, surprising him. She giggled at his expression as she pulled away. “Shh…don’t tell Lon about that.” She smiled and ushered him over to the sofa she’d been resting on. “Take the chair, take the chair.”
He sat down, not knowing what to expect from this creature.
“Don’t look so unsure of yourself. I won’t bite.” She giggled, brushing back her blonde curls off her shoulder. “I’m a collector. Some people collect abstract art or fine palas. I collect humans. Oh, Moon, dear, do bring in my collection for Red to see.”
A second passed by when Moon slipped into the room with a smile. “Yes, Mistress, I will gather them all.” She hurried out, humming under her breath.
“She’s such a beautiful girl. I really enjoy her.” Fanna crossed one leg daintily over the other. “My husband thinks I’m spoiled.” She fluttered her long eyelashes. “Which I am.” She put a finger to her full lips. “Come to think of it, Lon may think I’m a bit crazy for my habits, but he loves me all the same.” She leaned back against her chair, smiling.
Roughly five minutes passed until Moon came back in the room, a group of men and women trailing behind her. They lined up as if quite used to this affair of being shown off. Jonathan noticed that they all had a similar look—uniquely beautiful in some way. He’d noticed that Moon had a crescent shaped birthmark on her neck, but also had a fairly beautiful face.
More than twenty-five humans were standing before him. One girl had hair the color of fine white silk, another had eyes the color of the sky with dark rims so that she looked like a wolf. Several of the men had outstanding eyes or uniquely handsome features. His eyes rested on a blonde girl, whose curls were softly falling around her shoulders.
Zahara! The sight of the girl made his heart start hammering in his chest. He thought he’d never see her again. She caught his eye and a pink blush spread across her cheeks.
“This is my collection of little beauties. Lon has chastised me for naming them, because it is against some ancient culture or some nonsense, but I can’t help it.” She pointed at each human and rattled off their names. Jonathan was fairly sure those weren’t their given names from birth. She came to Zahara and fell silent for a moment. Her brow furrowed in thought. “Oh. I forgot to name this one. I’ll have to think about her name.” She gave a smile, paused, and turned to him.
“I hope you don’t mind, but your name shall be Red.” She gave a little smile. “Not all that unique, but when I look at you all I
see is that beautiful hair, so Red you shall be.” Fanna practically gushed as she talked, her eyes bright with excitement.
“I like the name Red.” He gave her a smile as she danced in her seat. His eyes fell on Zahara.
“Oh good! Moon, dear, can you please bring me some tea, I’m parched.”
Moon gave her mistress a smile and scurried away, the other humans slowly departing as well. Jonathan noticed a look of endearment on the Citizen woman’s face as they all left. “A very fine collection indeed.” She hummed to herself as she sat back against her chair. She caught his eye.
“Tell me, Red, were their others in your family with your unique hair?”
“My father and youngest brother.”
“I’m sure your father is a fine man.” She waved her foot back and forth.
“He was.”
A look of sadness crossed Fanna’s face for a brief moment, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. “We shall find you a position in the household soon. Moon will help me with that.”
A moment passed and Moon came back in. She was carrying a tray with a teapot and several cups. She poured the tea and passed a cup first to Fanna, then to Jonathan, then herself. She sat down on another chair near them.
“Oh what a lovely girl you are.” Fanna took a sip and gave a content sigh. “She makes the best tea. Moon, I was trying to decide where we should place Red.”
“What skills do you have?” Moon asked him, taking a sip of her tea.
“Back home I used to hunt and prepare meals.”
“Anything else?” Fanna asked, uninterested obviously with those skills.
“I can sing.”
The woman’s face lit up at his words. “Well, that is a surprise. Moon, perhaps he can join the evening entertainment. Put him with Fawn, Raven, and the new girl.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Moon took another sip of her tea. “Anything else you need?”
“Oh, you know me, Moon dear. We shall go shopping tonight!”
Moon gave a giggle. “Once you are finished with your tea, Red, I will take you to Fawn and Raven.”
Chapter 12
The soft sound of footsteps came to the door of the music room, making Fawn and Raven both pause in their musical training. Zahara watched as the door opened. Her heart thumped in her chest. When she’d first seen Jonathan sitting near Mistress and Moon, she’d wanted to run and hug him. Jonathan can sing? There he was—a little weary-looking but standing in front of her. His eyes widened at the sight of her, so that he looked like a child.