"You know," said Odiana, voice bright and cheerful, "I think you're lying. You don't often run into literate slaves. Who ask questions about troop movements. And who are also politically learned enough to realize the wider implications of one little note. That's the kind of thing you expect from, oh, I don't know." Her voice dropped, and she almost purred, "One of the Cursori."
Amara stiffened and turned just in time to eaten Odiana's bare Keel in the chin. Pain flashed through her, dull and hot. The wasted-seeming girl had far more strength than Amara would have credited to her, and the blow stunned Amara and sent her tumbling back into the stream.
She stood up out of it, shaking water from her face and eyes and drawing in a breath to cry out to her furies-but water rushed down into her mouth and nose as she inhaled, and she began choking. Amara's heart raced with sudden panic, and she reached up to her face-only to find it coated to above the nose with a thin layer of water. She scraped at it with her fingers, but it didn't flow down, and she couldn't clear it away. She struggled and choked, but only more water rushed in, coating her like a layer of oil. She couldn't breathe. The world began to glaze over with darkness, and she grew dizzy.
The letter. She had to get the letter out, back to the First Lord. The proof he would need.
She made it to the bank before the water filling her lungs made her collapse. She writhed, smothering on dry land, and found herself staring at Odiana's bare, clean feet.
Amara looked up as the wasted slave girl stared down at her, a gentle smile on her face. "You needn't worry, love," the girl said. And she began to change. Her sunken cheeks filled out. The gangling limbs gained rondure, beauty. Hips and breasts began to curve in enticing lines, filling out the clothes she wore. Her hair grew a bit longer, lustrous, darker, and she shook it out with a little laugh, before kneeling down next to Amara.
Odiana reached out and stroked fingers through Amara's damp hair. "You needn't worry," she repeated. "We aren't going to kill you. We need you." Calmly, she removed a black sash from the basket, and tied it around her waist. "But you Cursori can be a slippery breed. We'll take no chances. Just go to sleep, Amara. It will be so much easier. And then I can send all the water back and let you breathe again."
Amara struggled and fought for simple breath, but none came. Darkness gathered, points of light appearing before her eyes. She clutched at Odiana, but her fingers had gone nerveless and weak.
The last thing she saw was the beautiful watercrafter leaning down to place a gentle kiss upon her forehead. "Sleep," she whispered. "Sleep."
And then Amara sank down, into the blackness.
Chapter 2
Amara woke, buried to her armpits in the earth. Loose dirt had been piled over her arms and into her hair. Her face felt thick, heavy, and after a moment, she realized that her entire head had been liberally smeared with mud.
She struggled to gather her wits through a pounding headache, piecing together fragments of memories and perceptions until, with a dizzying rush of clarity, she remembered where she was and what had happened to her.
Her heart started to thud hard in her chest, and fear made her buried limbs feel cold.
She opened her eyes, and bits of dirt fell into them, so that she had to blink quickly. Tears formed to wash the dirt out. After a few moments, she was able to see.
She was in a tent. The commander's tent in the camp, she guessed. Light poured into it through a gap in the flap that served as a door, leaving the tent's interior described in terms of dimness, shadow, and dark.
"You awake yet?" croaked a voice from behind her. She turned her head, trying to look. She could barely see Fidelias out of the corner of her eye, but he was there, hanging in a cage of iron bars by straps around his shoulders and outstretched arms, leaving his feet dangling a good ten inches off of the floor. He had a swelling bruise on his face, and his lip had been split and was crusted with dry blood.
"Are you all right?" Amara whispered.
"Fine. Apart from being beaten, captured, and scheduled for torture and