Her left hand throbbed where her pinky finger had once been attached. They had cleaned and bandaged the area and it had begun to heal but that did little to quell the dull ache that consumed her entire arm. She would have clutched her hand to her to chest at that moment if she could, just to offer herself some semblance of security, but her arms and legs were restrained. She was cuffed supine to a mattress covered in blood from her seeping hand.
Time slipped by in the silence of the room. Periodically, the silence would be interrupted by a bolt sliding and light would flood into the room. That light was replaced by a Klopph who would change her bandages or initiate her twice daily unchaining to allow her to relieve herself. She would then be reattached to the mattress and spoon fed her meager meal.
She shrunk at the approach of the Klopph as often the sessions would end with touching. They had not done anything more than that, no doubt under strict orders, but the revulsion that ensued as their bare hands touched her exposed breasts and other parts of her was nearly too much. She bit into her bottom lip, drawing blood, to keep from screaming. But she would not allow them that pleasure and she refused to cry until they were gone.
Her most recent session had ended only a few hours prior when the familiar sliding of the bolt echoed in her room, followed by blinding brilliance. Through her squint she could make out a silhouette and a figure came into focus as her eyes adjusted; she recognized the man as the Keeper. She recognized the rules were about to change.
He retreated and his dark image was filled by two Klopph. They removed her restraints and she was led down a long hallway, tracing the trail of the Keeper. She had been blindfolded upon transport and was surprised to learn that she was in one of the Keeper’s palaces. She had heard stories of the many palaces of the Keeper but had no idea which palace she was now in. The view from the windows revealed a lush landscape and she knew she was far from the city – far enough away that she understood she was on her own.
She was shoved into a room with a lone chair. The Keeper waited beside the chair that modeled clasps on the arms and legs. She knew once she was locked in the chair, there was nothing she could do. The Keeper smiled at her with cold eyes. “Well, Triana, it’s been a while. Last time you left too soon. This time, we’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”
After she was secure, the Keeper nodded at her guards and they left the room, closing the door. The loud click of the lock engaging sounded like a guillotine. The corner of her eye caught movement in the depths of the room and for the first time she realized that she was not alone with the Keeper. The Keeper noticed her gaze and smiled. “This man is an old friend of mine. He has served me for many years. And I should tell you that only people who are proficient at what they do serve me for as long as he has.”
He nodded and the man walked over to a cabinet set against the wall. Sunlight from the lone window reflected on the metal objects in the cabinet and Triana knew what was about to happen to her before the first sharp object was brought forth.
The man turned and Triana witnessed the leather gloves and apron that she did not doubt would soon be covered in her blood. She had witnessed the ruthlessness of the man who ruled world with her family. She thought on her cousins and how disposable they were to the Klopph. She doubted she was any less disposable.
Her mind searched for a way to escape or at least reason with the man who walked purposefully towards her. Each thought reached an impasse. It was hopeless.
At that moment, the fear dispelled the sheet of amnesia that her uncle had placed over her memories and she recalled her encounter in the caves. The memories flooded her vision and evoked her own death at the hands of the Keeper. She saw her rebirth with the gift of ajándék and knew that despite her outburst of defiance in the caves, she was once again a pawn of the Keeper. Only this time there would be no escape.
The man in leather reached and with an expression of professionalism on his face, he made the first mark of his trade with the metal object in hand. Triana screamed in anguish. But below the anguish was desperation as she knew no matter how lurid her cries, no one would come to her aid.
CHAPTER FORTY SIX
It was obvious to Jacques that the group of people were not going to leave under their own influence. He had killed members of the group but that had not detoured them. He wasn’t sure exactly what they were after but determined it was time to learn their purpose.
They were surprised to see him as he walked out of his front door. The assembly of visitors had taken up temporary refuge in the circumference of his yard. They had set guards but no one had seen him enter his home. Babel was the first to notice Jacques in the morning
