Yes, she thought, that she could do. But in the end, it was merely illusion, a paltry substitute for a reality she had never even known.
She had thought it would be different in Altaruk. Yes, the house was larger and catered to a more well-heeled clientele. Yes, the pay was better, and the tips more generous. And yes, the working conditions were improved, with larger and more comfortable dressing rooms and attendants to assist with costuming and makeup. But in all other respects, it was the same: the pressure to be more “friendly” with customers, the blatant sexual overtures from patrons and management, the crude shouted comments from customers, the constant groping, feeling, pinching… In the end, only the place had changed. Even the faces seemed the same.
Cricket retrieved her gown and headed offstage, toward the dressing room. In the corridor, as she slipped the gown back on, she felt hollow, a sensual facade over deep melancholy. She had found a new job and new quarters, but otherwise, nothing had changed. She was still just going through the motions of a life.
What was the point in holding out for an ideal that did not exist? What was the purpose in waiting for a hero when, in the end, heroic talk led only to base actions? Why bother to believe in virtue, love, and honor—mere masks for ambition, lust, and expedience? If men told lies, was she any better for selling them illusions? Why stop there? Why not simply sell it all?
She came to an abrupt halt as she entered the dressing room, eyes widening in surprise. The other dancers were outside, working the crowd, but she was not alone. Edric sat in a chair before her, legs casually crossed. His hands were toying with a dagger.
“What, no greeting for an old friend?”
Her lips turned down into a sneer. “You bastard,” she said. “You never were my friend. You lied in everything you said.”
“Well, in many things, perhaps, but not everything. I said you were beautiful, and so you are. I said you could drive them wild, and so you can. I said the same elven blood flows through our veins, and so it does. I also said I was tribal.
“I did lie about the boy, though. It was part of the role I chose to play. My true tastes do not happen to lie in that direction.”
“I can’t believe you had the nerve to come here after what you did,” said Cricket. “What do you want?”
“You,” said Edric.
“Me? You must be joking!”
“Actually, I had other plans when I arrived in Altaruk, but as luck would have it, things did not work out. My luck, it seems, has not been good of late. Now, I need to leave town with some alacrity, and it strikes me a hostage will improve my chances.”
Cricket turned and bolted for the door, but Edric moved quickly, catching her just as she stepped into the hall. He seized her arm and twisting it behind her as he brought the dagger to her neck. “Don’t be a fool,” he said. “This is no life for you. You’ll wind up like the other sluts. It doesn’t have to be like that. You were tribal once. You can be tribal once again, a lady of the Shadows, free and proud, beholden to no man.”
“Except to you?” she said. She snorted her derision. “How could I possibly resist such a charming invitation? A dagger at a lady’s throat—truly the height of gallantry.”
“I readily concede I am not much of a gallant,” Edric said. “But then, of course, you are not much of a lady. Granted, we are starting off rather awkwardly, but though you may not appreciate it now, I am doing you a favor. You have far too much potential to waste yourself on a life of degradation in a pleasure house.”
“Becoming your woman would be an even greater degradation,” Cricket said.
One of the large, muscular bouncers appeared before them in the hall. “What’s going on here?”
“Step aside, you thick-headed lout,” demanded Edric, “else I will slash her throat from ear to ear.”
The bouncer’s eyes grew wide as he noticed the dagger against Cricket’s neck. He backed away several steps, then moved aside to let them by. As Edric passed the bouncer, he suddenly shoved Cricket into him, trapping him against the wall. With a quick, deft stroke, he plunged the blade into the bouncer’s side, then jerked Cricket back again as the man slid down against the wall.
“Why?” asked Cricket with despair.
“To insure he didn’t do anything foolish, and as an object lesson to you, my dear,” said Edric. “The same will happen to anyone who tries to interfere, so keep that in mind if you want to avoid any more bloodshed.
“Now we are going to go outside together and walk calmly toward the door. If anyone tries to stop or question us, get rid of him quickly, or I will.”
He urged her out into the main room, where one of the other girls was dancing on the stage. They kept close to the wall, moving around toward the front door, Edric walking close beside her, holding onto her and using his body to shield the dagger.
They were almost to the door when it opened, and Sorak came in.
Edric stopped, cursing under his breath. Cricket saw Sorak’s gaze quickly sweep the room, and then focus on them. He drew his sword. In an instant, several bouncers moved toward him, but Cricket yelled out, “No!”
All eyes turned toward them. Edric jerked her arm up painfully behind her back and pressed the edge of the dagger under her chin. All conversation stopped. A moment later, so did the music. Everyone quickly moved back out of the way except the bouncers, who stood watching alertly, tensely, unsure what to do.
Sorak gave them a quick glance. “Stay out of it,” he said. “He’s mine.”
“Move
