grabbed the fat soldier
by the back of the neck and threw him against the rock wall.
The Bloodletter's spiked boots planted in front of V's face. «Get me my dagger.»
V blinked dry eyes and tried to move.
There was a creak of leather, and then the Bloodletter's face was before V. «Get me my dagger,
boy. Or I will have you take the whores' place tonight in the pit.»
The soldiers who had gathered behind his father cackled, and someone threw a stone that hit V
where his leg had been injured.
«My dagger, boy.»
Vishous speared his little fingers into the dirt and dragged himself over to the weapon. Though a
mere two feet from him, the blade seemed miles away. When he finally closed his palm upon it,
he needed both hands to free it from the dirt, he was so weak. His stomach was rolling from
pain, and as he pulled at the blade, he threw up the meat he had stolen.
After the retching passed, he held up the dagger to his father, who had risen back to his full
height.
«Stand,» the Bloodletter said. «Or think you I should bow to the worthless?»
V struggled into a sitting position and couldn't fathom how he was going to get his full body up,
as he could barely lift his shoulders. He switched the dagger to his left hand, planted his right
one on the dirt, and pushed. The pain was so great his eyesight went black… and then a
miraculous thing occurred. Some kind of radiant light overtook him from the inside out, as if
sunshine had swept into his veins and cleaned the pain until he was free of it. His eyesight
returned… and he saw that his hand was glowing.
Now was not the time to wonder. He peeled himself from the ground, rising up while trying to
put no weight on his leg. With a hand that shook, he presented the dagger to his father.
The Bloodletter stared back for a heartbeat, as if he'd never expected V to get to his feet. Then he
took the weapon and turned away.
«Someone knock him back down. His boldness offends me.»
V landed in a heap when the order was followed, and at once, the radiance left him and agony
returned. He waited for other blows to land, but when he heard a crowd's roar, he knew that the
losers' punishments would be the amusement for the day, not him.
As he lay in the swamp of his misery, as he tried to breathe through the pounding of his battered
body, he pictured a female in a white robe coming unto him and wrapping him up in her arms.
With soft words she cradled him and stroked his hair, easing him.
He welcomed the vision. She was his imaginary mother. The one who loved him and wanted him
to be safe and warm and fed. Verily, the image of her was what kept him alive, giving him the
only peace he knew.
The fat soldier leaned down, his fetid, humid breath invading Vishous's nose. «You steal from me
again and you shall not heal from what I bring unto you.»
The soldier spat in V's face then picked him up and slung him like worthless debris away from
the dirty pallet.
Before V passed out, his last sight was of the other pretrans, who was finishing the deer leg with
relish.
Chapter Six
With a curse, V disengaged from his memories, his eyes flying around the alley he was standing
in, like old newspapers caught in the wind. Man, he was a wreck. The seal on his Tupperware
had cracked open and his leftovers had leaked out all over the place.
Messy. Very messy.
Good thing he hadn't known then what a crock of shit the whole my-mommy-who-loves-me
thing was. That would have hurt him more than any of the abuse coming his way.
He took the Primale's medallion out of his back pocket and stared at it. He was still looking at it
minutes later when the thing dropped to the ground and bounced like a coin. He frowned… until
he realized that his «normal» hand was glowing and had burned through the strap.
Goddamn, his mother was an egomaniac. She'd brought the species into being, but that wasn't
enough for her. Hell, no. She wanted herself in the mix.
Fuck it. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of hundreds of grandchildren. She'd sucked
as a parent, so why should he give her another generation to screw over.
And besides, there was another reason why he shouldn't be the Primale. He was, after all, his
father's son, so cruelty was in his DNA. How could he trust himself not to take it out on the
Chosen? Those