“You were braver than the boys; you were the one who led us here,” Elena told her. Then she consulted Meredith and Bonnie with her eyes. It sounded as if the commotion had moved on elsewhere, and Damon was a master at getting himself out of commotions. He might also…
She looked at Dr. Meggar. “Will my — will our master be all right, do you think?”
Dr. Meggar’s eyebrows went up and down. “He’ll probably have to pay Old Drohzne’s relatives a blood price, but it shouldn’t be too high. Then he can do what he likes with the old bastard’s property,” he said. “I’d say the safest place for you right now is here, away from the Meeting Place.” He went on to enforce that opinion by pouring them all glasses — liqueur glasses, Elena noted — of Black Magic wine. “Good for the nerves,” he said and took a sip.
Ulma smiled her beautiful, heartwarming smile at him, as he took the tray around. “Thank you — and thank you — and thank you,” she said. “I won’t bore you with my story—”
“No, tell us; tell us, please!” Now that there was no immediate danger to her friends or to Damon, Elena was eager to hear the tale. Everyone else was nodding.
Ulma flushed a little, but began sedately, “I was born in the reign of Kelemen II,” she said. “I’m sure that means nothing to our visitors but much to those who knew him and his — indulgences. I studied under my mother, who became a very popular designer of fashions in fabrics. My father was a designer of jewelry almost as famous as she was. They had an estate on the outskirts of the city and could afford a house as fine as many of their wealthiest customers — though they were careful not to show the true extent of their wealth. I was the young Lady Ulma then, not Ulma the hag. My parents did their best to keep me out of sight, for my own safety. But…”
Ulma — Lady Ulma, Elena thought, stopped and took a deep sip of her wine. Her eyes had changed; she was seeing the past, and trying not to upset her listeners. But just as Elena was about to ask her to stop, at least until she felt better, she continued.
“But despite all their care…someone…saw me anyway and demanded my hand in marriage. Not Drohzne, he was just a furrier from the Outlands, and I never saw him until three years ago. This was a lord, a General, a demon with a terrible reputation — and my father refused his demand. They came on us in the night. I was fourteen when it happened. And that is how I became a slave.”
Elena found that she was feeling emotional pain directly from Lady Ulma’s mind. Oh, my God, I’ve done it again, she thought, hurriedly trying to tune down her psychic senses. “Please, you don’t need to tell us this. Maybe another time…”
“I would like to tell you—
Politeness was warring with politeness here. “No, no, if you want — go ahead. I–I just want you to know how sorry I am.” Elena glanced at the doctor, who was patiently waiting by the table for her with the brown bottle in his hands. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to get my leg…healed?” She was aware that she’d said the last word doubtfully, wondering how any one being could have the power to heal Ulma like this. She was not surprised when he shook his head. “Or stitched up, rather, while you talk, if you don’t mind,” she said.
It took several minutes to overcome Lady Ulma’s shock and distress that she had left her savior waiting, but at last Elena was on the table and the doctor was encouraging her to drink from the bottle, which smelled like cherry cough syrup.
Oh, well, she might as well try the Dark Dimension version of anesthetic — especially since the stitching was bound to hurt, Elena thought. She took a sip from the bottle and felt the room reel around her. She waved away the offer of a second sip.
Dr. Meggar undid Bonnie’s ruined scarf, and then began to cut off her blood-soaked jeans leg above the knee.
“Well — you are so good to listen,” Lady Ulma said. “But I knew you were good already. I will spare us both the painful details of my slavery. Perhaps it’s enough to say that I was passed from one master to another over the years, always a slave, always going down. At last, as a joke, someone said, ‘Give her to Old Drohzne. He’ll squeeze the last use out of her if anyone can.’”
“God!” Elena said, and hoped that everyone would attribute it to the story and not to the bite of the cleansing solution the doctor was swabbing over her swollen flesh. Damon was so much better at this, she thought. I didn’t even realize how lucky I was before. Elena tried not to wince as the doctor began to use his needle, but her grip on Meredith’s hand tightened until Elena was afraid she was breaking bones. She tried to ease the grip, but Meredith squeezed back hard. Her long, smooth hand was almost like a boy’s, but softer. Elena was glad to be able to squeeze as hard as she liked.
“My strength has been giving out on me lately,” Lady Ulma said softly. “I thought it was that”—here she used a particularly crude expression for her owner—“that was leading me to death. Then I realized the truth.” All at once radiance changed her face, so much that Elena could see what she must have looked like when she was in her teens and so beautiful that a demon would demand her as a wife. “I knew that new life stirred within me — and I knew that Drohzne would kill it if he had the chance—”
She didn’t seem to recognize the expressions of astonishment and horror on the three girl’s faces. Elena, however, had the feeling that she was groping through a nightmare, on the edge of a black crevasse, and that she would have to keep groping in the dark, around treacherous, unseen fissures in the ice in the Dark Dimension until she reached Stefan and got him free of this place. This casual reference to abomination wasn’t the first of her steps around a crevasse, but it was the first she had recognized and counted.
“You young women are very new here,” Lady Ulma said, as the silence stretched and stretched. “I did not mean to say anything out of place….”
“We’re slaves here,” Meredith replied, picking up a length of rope. “I think the more we learn the better.”
“Your master — I’ve never seen anyone so quick to fight Old Drohzne before. Many people clucked their tongues, but that was all most dared to do. But your master—”
“
It went right over Lady Ulma’s head. “Master Damon — do you think he might keep me? After he pays the blood price to — to Drohzne’s relatives, he will get first pick of all Drohzne’s property. I am one of the few slaves he has not killed.” The hope in the woman’s face was almost too painful for Elena to look at.
It was only then that she consciously realized how long it had been since she’d seen Damon. How long should Damon’s business be taking? She looked at Meredith anxiously.
Meredith understood exactly what the look meant. She shook her head helplessly. Even if they had Lakshmi take them to the Meeting Place, what could they do?
Elena bit back a wince of pain and smiled at Lady Ulma.
“Why don’t you tell us about when you were a girl?” she said.
Damon wouldn’t have thought a sadistic old fool who whipped a woman to pieces for not being able to pull a cart meant for a horse would have any friends. And Old Drohzne, indeed, may not have had any. But that wasn’t the issue.
Neither, strangely, was murder the issue. Murder was an everyday affair around the slums and the fact that Damon had initiated and won a fight was of no surprise to the inhabitants of these dangerous alleyways.
The issue lay in making off with a slave. Or perhaps it went deeper. The issue lay in how Damon treated his own slaves.
A crowd of men — all men, no women, Damon noticed — had indeed gathered in front of the doctor’s building, and they did in fact have torches.
“Mad vampire! Mad vampire on the loose!”
“Drive him out here for justice to be done!”
“Burn the place down if they won’t turn him out!”
“The elders say to bring him to them!”
This seemed to have the effect the crowd desired, clearing the streets of the more decent people and leaving only the bloody-minded sort who’d been hanging about at a loose end, and were only too glad of a fight. Most of them, of course, were vampires themselves. Most of them were
