Aisha.
Aisha.
Wake up.
The frantic whisper woke Aisha with a start. She turned over in her blankets, trying to blink the sleep from her eyes. The procuress leaned over her, gently shaking her awake.
"It’s Nasreen," whispered the procuress. "Don't speak. We can't wake the others. Pull your clothes on, child. Hurry."
Aisha did as she was told and silently followed the woman to the door which led to the brothel. The procuress reached under the collar of her robe and pulled out a cord upon which hung a key. She fit it silently into the lock and turned, hoping the click would not awaken any of the other sleepers. She ushered Aisha through the door and closed it behind them both, locking it with the key.
"Is she alright?" whispered Aisha, afraid of the answer she might hear.
"She is alive. Perhaps the Lady still hears our prayers. I went back to the brothel to pray and wait in the unlikely event the strigoi-viu sent her back. Less than an hour ago, I heard a scratch at the door. It was her. She keeps asking for you. The poor thing was half frozen to death on the doorstep, her skin almost blue. I took her to the kitchen to tend to her in front of the fire. It is the only room with no windows to show our shadows and give away our presence. No one should be out of the women's quarters in the dark. If the night watch catches us..."
Aisha nodded. They all understood the dangers of being caught by the priests after curfew.
The procuress led her to a small room used to prepare food for the brothel's customers. A fire crackled and popped in the hearth, before which lay a shapeless mass of blankets.
"It is only us, Nasreen. It is safe. I brought the little bookmaker with me." The woman motioned for Aisha to join her friend in front of the fire. "I will leave you two alone. I am going to fetch herbs for tea. Aisha, do your best to keep her warm and awake until we get some warm liquids in her."
“Yes, procuress.”
"Aisha?" Nasreen's voice shook as her teeth chattered together. "I am so glad you are here." Tears ran down her face as the two friends embraced.
"I am here. I am here," said Aisha. "I didn't know what I would do if you didn't come back. I was so afraid you were dead."
"Promise me something, Aisha." Notes of panic crept into Nasreen's voice as she pulled away from her friend's embrace. "Promise me that no matter what happens to any of us that you will do whatever you must to survive."
"I... I..." stuttered Aisha. "What happened at the palace?"
"I saw what the strigoi-viu wants us to be. And I cannot be that thing. And neither can you. If he cannot have what he wants he will kill us all. We must resist. We need to escape." Tears ran down Nasreen's face. "And I don't know how. He controls everything and his rule is everywhere. Promise me, Aisha. Promise me. Please."
"I promise," whispered Aisha. "Even if I am alone, I will try. But you must promise the same."
"I promise, too," said Nasreen.
"Did you escape?" asked Aisha. “Do we need to run now? Do we need to hide you?”
"I didn't escape. They set me outside the gates of the palace to freeze to death on the streets, or for the night patrol to find me and rape me until I was dead. I made my way back to the temple in the dark alone. Thank the Goddess I grew up playing in these streets and I know all the places to hide in the shadows." She held up her hands, which were bright red as if they had been scalded. "The procuress tells me my hands will blister from the cold. Without my veil, my face would be the same."
"Did you see the Narim prince?" asked Aisha.
Nasreen began to cry again. "Takri is one of them. Everything he told me was a lie. He sits next to his master and does nothing, even as his little cousin is abused before his eyes! That poor child. Lilua is no older than you. I think Mahleck is feeding off her, drinking her blood in the night as she lies in his bed."
Aisha thought back to the strange black-haired girl who sang before her mother in the throne room years ago. Her father hoped to join their families together one day. Aisha could barely remember what Lilua's brother looked like now. Those days seemed an eternity ago, when she had another name and another life, playing in the safety of the palace gardens under the watchful eyes of her father and the leader of the Narim.
The procuress returned with the herbs, which she placed in a kettle hung over the fire. "How are you feeling, Nasreen? Can you feel your hands now?"
"Yes. They ache," answered Nasreen. "Before it just tingled. Now they are stiff and the skin feels hard."
"Frostbite," said the procuress. "But not so serious. Thank the Lady I was here. You will not lose any fingers. And you have color coming back to your cheeks. For once we can be thankful for those awful veils."
"Thank you for opening the door for me," said Nasreen. "I was afraid no one would find me until morning."
"I was here. Praying for your return," said the procuress. "We have not lost any of the Lady's priestesses yet. I pray that will continue. Are you hungry, child? Food stores are dwindling for all of us, but there is more than enough set aside for the men of the Swarm if you need it."
"No. My stomach still feels like it is tied in a knot after sitting at table with the tyrant. I feel I may never want to eat again."
"Please, you need to eat. Little bookmaker, are you hungry? You are still growing, and those bowls of lentils grow more watery every day. Let me feed you. Better it goes to nourish growing young women than randy soldiers," said the procuress as she busied herself in the pantry. A moment later, she returned with a wedge of sheep cheese and some dried fruit which the two girls accepted. As she took her first bite, Aisha realized how ravenous she was. Nasreen picked at her food, but managed to eat a few bites.
"If either of you need food, tell me. You are both too young to go hungry, and I can take from these stores without anyone being the wiser. Just don't tell the Holy Mother," said the procuress. "At least there is some benefit to having her blind. She can't count inventory like she once did."
"I saw her sons in the palace," said Nasreen. "They are guards for the Court of Women. You may as well call them jailors."
"Floryan and Luka were good men," said the procuress. "I hope they can hold onto that goodness inside such a terrible place."
"I don't think anyone can," said Nasreen. "It feels like a place without hope. Floryan and Luka told me the men there are so starved for the touch of a woman that they will take it by force. The Locusts have no care for life. Not even their own."