Slave to Sapphire

Iris would be dead before sunrise. Her boots sunk in the thick mud, slowing her as she picked her way through the street avoiding the piles of refuse that lined the roads of Scarlet Town. The marine layer was heavy, and the dense fog obscured the sliver of a moon. A quiet splash told her Samson had landed in a puddle beside her, almost tripping her as he weaved through her legs. He stalked next to her carrying a hunk of cooked meat in his mouth; where he got it was a mystery to Iris. Iris continued her trek down an alleyway, stepping over a man slumbering on the ground, his deep sleep aided by azure. It seemed like half of the city was addicted to the drug. Azure was the reason that Iris had survived to twenty-six years of life but it was also the reason she would die tonight.

Iris rounded a corner; she heard the raucous laughter and clinking of glasses before she saw the light that streamed from The Wicked Wench Tavern. Iris hesitated and made sure that the thick black material covering the golden cuff on her left arm was secured in place. It was common practice in Scarlet Town for people to cover their source stone so as to not advertise how much life they had left. The faint red color indicated less than a week left of life and in Iris’ case only hours. Once she was sure that the red glow coming from her source stone was completely hidden, she stepped into the garish glow of the Tavern.

Iris turned to Samson and squatted down so she could look into his luminous green feline eye. Samson was small for a tarvin, a type of wild cat that lived in the Anemon Mountains, even so he was about twice the size of the many feral cats that roamed the poorest sections of Orinth. Samson tilted his head and perked up his pointy ears, the ocean breeze gently moving the long tufts of fur that crowned them. Iris ran her hand through his silken rust colored coat, rubbing his cheek near the long scar that crossed over where his left eye used to be. Samson was the only living thing that had known Iris prior to her family’s murder thirteen years ago.

“Well, Samson, this is where we part ways; it’s been a pleasure to have been your companion in this life.” Samson let out a strangled meow and slinked back into the shadows of the alleyway. Iris had no doubt that Samson would survive without her. She was sure she gained more from their companionship than he did.

Iris took a calming breath, pulled the hood of her cloak up, pushed open the dilapidated door and strode into The Wicked Wench. She was accosted with shouts of men and women and the sour smell of bodies and alcohol. Iris still needed to complete one more task before she ran out of life. She nervously rubbed the piece of source stone hidden in the inner pocket of her cloak and then grazed her hand over the dagger that was secured to her hip. Iris had pick-pocketed the stone off a merchant in the Lavender district when she was eighteen; she had kept it hidden ever since. Selling source stone was illegal, the penalty being death or working in the Amarath Mines, which was worse than a death sentence. Prior to tonight, attempting to sell the stone had been too great of a risk to take. But she needed to sell the piece of stone for coin so that Cora could purchase one more year of life. A man called Silas would be willing to purchase the stone. Silas enjoyed the company of a certain prostitute at the end of each week at this particular establishment. It was cutting things close, but tonight was the only time she would be sure to find him and could make the exchange without being seen.

Previously spilled beers and other substances caused her feet to stick to the wood floor as she wove through the patrons of the bar. Iris wondered if the floors were ever mopped and what other fluids could be contributing to the stickiness. Iris scanned the tavern trying to banish the thought from her head and caught a glance of herself in the mirror that stretched behind the bar. Her face was mostly covered by her hood, she could make out the deep chestnut color of her skin and the slight silvery gleam to her eyes. Iris’s plan depended on not being recognized but there was nothing she could do to hide her coal black irises that contained small flecks of silver. What was commonly referred to as Amarath eyes. She had braided her straight black hair and tucked it beneath her tunic. In addition to her cloak, she wore a tunic and trousers that she had padded with extra layers of clothes to try and hide her slender frame. The Wicked Wench was owned by a rival gang, the Daggers, which Silas was a member of. As a member of Exodus, Iris was strictly prohibited by Lucious from doing business with the Daggers. Not only would Iris’ life be at risk but if any Dagger did business with her, they were at the mercy of Exodus and its infamous leader Lucious. The bartender moved into her line of sight blocking her reflection. Iris averted her gaze, keeping her head down but trying to not look too carefully at the disgusting floor.

She continued her sojourn through the crowded bar. The warmth from the mass of bodies in the tavern was suffocating. Someone bumped into her and jostled her against another patron, causing them to spill the entirety of their lukewarm beer on the front of her cloak. Iris hissed, the beer soaking through her cloak and layers of clothes to her skin. She didn’t bother to see who had spilled their beer on her, pushing forward intent on finding Silas. She was stopped by a firm grip on her forearm.

“I am sorry, boy.”

Iris whipped around to see who had her arm. The motion caused a twinge of pain in the healing gash on her shoulder blade. The wound had started to scab over, but the edges were beginning to pucker with infection. Iris came face to face with startling blue eyes.

“I mean miss,” he mumbled.

The man towering over her appeared to be around her age. He had midnight black hair that starkly contrasted with his blue eyes and pale skin. He was classically handsome with a straight nose, strong jawline and full lips. Iris twisted her arm from his grip and pulled her hood farther down to cover her eyes. He opened his mouth again as if to say something.

“Don’t touch me again, you piece of dreck,” she spat and hurried towards the stairs at the back of the tavern.

Midway up the stairs she looked over her shoulder and glanced back to see his gaze following her. Iris reached the top of the decomposing wooden staircase and turned left, pausing to make sure the hallway was clear. There were six doors down the hall to the left. Moaning and thudding sounds projected from some of the rooms. Once she reached the third door, she stopped and listened at the door. The grunting of a man and the soft moans of a woman confirmed Silas’ presence. Iris took a step back and with as much force as she could, kicked the door just below the lock. The rusted locking mechanism crumbled and the wooden door swung open. Iris entered the room slamming the door shut behind her. Silas was being ridden by a curvaceous prostitute with golden blond hair. Iris stepped forward, grabbed the woman by her hair and pulled her off Silas. The woman stumbled back, and Iris landed a punch to her face. The woman crumpled to the ground. Iris didn’t prefer violence, but her years living on the streets had taught her that violence was the quickest way to gain what you wanted. Time was not something that she had tonight.

The man was still in shock when Iris straddled him and held her dagger to his throat. Silas’ hairy chest was slick with sweat as it rose and fell rapidly. His eyes were wide and his face red from the exertion of his recent activity. Iris wrinkled her nose in disgust at the sour smell of him and the state of the mattress beneath him.

“I would like to make a business proposition,” she growled.

He stared at her, narrowing his eyes, realizing that a slight woman sat atop him with a knife to his throat and he did not have a stitch of clothing on.

“I am going to slit your pretty little throat, bitch.”

Iris sighed; it was a farfetched statement given the current position of her dagger. Before he could continue on with his string of threats Iris removed the piece of source stone from her pocket. The stone was about the size of a robin’s egg and was an inky black with flecks of silvery starlight. He shut his mouth and froze.

“How much are you willing to pay?”

“Where did you get that?” Silas hissed. Iris didn’t miss the flicker of greed that passed across Silas’ eyes.

She pushed her dagger against his throat and blood welled at the edge of her blade, trickling down the side of his neck, adding to the numerous stains on the mattress.

“It doesn’t matter where I got it, you fat fuck, are you going to buy it or not?”

He studied her eyes. “You are that bitch Iris, that runs azure for Lucious. There is no way I am going to buy source stone from you. What he does to me when he finds out will be far worse than having you slit my throat.”

“You have my word that Lucious will not find out about this.”

“Your word, why would I trust some bitch from Exodus?”

“Because I will be dead before the sun rises.” Iris pulled down the heavy cloth covering her cuff to reveal the faint red flicker of her source stone. Dreck. she was really cutting this close. This asshole better hurry up.

His expression turned grim. “If you are going to be dead by the morning, what do you need the coin for?”

“What’s it to you? I have a debt to pay. I will be dead before the Repository opens tomorrow so I won’t be using it to buy myself more life source.”

Silas’ beady eyes darted around the room, looking for an out as he considered her proposition. Iris increased the pressure of the dagger on his throat, causing the stain on the mattress to darken further.

“Fine I will give you one hundred coin for it; it’s all I have with me tonight.”

Iris cursed inwardly. That was less than half of what it was worth. But she only needed seventy-five coin for Cora to have enough. Iris glanced to the small safe in the corner of the room. Most rooms in these kinds of establishments had safes for patrons to lock their coin or azure that they had purchased or won playing cards downstairs.

“What is your code?”

“How do I know you won’t just kill me once I give it to you?”

“I guess you are just going to have to trust me,” Iris gave a feral grin. Iris had killed people out of necessity but despite her reputation as a ruthless drug runner she preferred to avoid killing when possible.

Once Silas had relayed the code, she removed the rope that she had wrapped around her waist and used it to tie his hands behind his back. Iris crossed the room, removed the pouch of coin from the safe and counted. The prostitute started to groan in the corner. Iris came to her crouching down. She opened the woman’s hand and placed twenty-five coin in it. It wouldn’t make up for the pain she had caused the poor woman but at least it would cover any lost wages caused from the bruise blooming across her face. Iris figured her soul was going to the abyss shortly anyways; what was one more stain?

She tugged the fabric over her gold cuff, the red of her source stone so faint it was almost clear. She hurried down the stairs and through the bar. She had less than an hour. As she moved to the door, she noticed stark blue eyes tracking her exit.

Muck spattered her legs as she raced down the alleyways. She needed to get to the agreed-on meeting point. She slowed her pace as she neared; her clothes were damp from the fog and beer and Iris shivered when a breeze blew her clothes against her. A sputtering street lantern illuminated a hooded figure with wisps of unruly fiery red hair. Sabine turned, her pale face, dusted with freckles, pinched with concern when she saw Iris.

“Cerise! Iris, I didn’t think you would make it. Please tell me you still have a plan to save yourself.”

Iris grabbed Sabine’s arm, pulling them both into the privacy of the shadows. “Of course, I do. I am just not completely confident in its success and I didn’t want to leave anything up to chance when it comes to Cora’s payment.”

Sabine nodded but Iris could see the doubt in her eyes.

“Sabine, promise me no matter what you will get this to Cora.” Iris hadn’t told Sabine where the coin had come from.

Iris pressed the pouch of coins into Sabine’s hand. Sabine was the only friend, not counting Iris’ tarvin, Samson, that she could trust. Cora was turning sixteen in one week and her payment for source was due. Iris could not let Cora die like her sister Anna had.

“I promise Iris, I will hold on to it for you, but you will be the one to give it to her tomorrow.” Sabine knew how dire things were for Iris. What Sabine didn’t know was that Iris was truly out of options and there was no plan.

Sabine took Iris into a firm embrace. Iris tensed, she wasn’t a very touchy person. Sabine’s familiar smell of roses and soap flooded Iris and she gave in, returning Sabine’s hug. Tears started to form in her eyes, she scrunched her eyes closed willing the tears to stop. There would be no tomorrow. Even if Iris had a plan to get enough coin to buy more source and another year of life, it wouldn’t matter; she had already lost Lucious’ trust. Selling source stone to the Daggers only made the situation with Lucious worse. If there was a way for her to survive the night, Lucious would come after her.

Iris pulled herself from Sabine’s embrace and stalked down the dark alley. She planned to go to one of her favorite lookouts of the city of Orinth for the last moments of her life. She was lost deep in her thoughts, but she sensed Samson’s presence when he joined her, his warm body grazing against her leg. Iris shook her head.

“I thought we had already said our goodbyes, Samson.”

“So not only do you sneak into disreputable establishments dressed as a boy, but you also talk to cats.” The deep voice startled Iris from her thoughts.

She spun around to find the striking man from the tavern standing at the end of the alley way

Iris narrowed her eyes “Have you been following me? And Samson is not a cat; he is a tarvin.”

“I saw you leave the tavern in a rush and was intrigued so I followed you.” His voice had a playful tenor to it as he spoke.

Iris took several steps back meaning to run; she wasn’t in the mood to fight or banter with the stranger. The handsome stranger continued to move towards her. Iris heard the distinct voices of two men. She recognized their voices to belong to two members of the Dagger’s. She couldn’t be seen by them and risk the chance of anyone tracing the sale of the source stone back to her. It would put Cora and Sabine at risk.

“I heard that Lucious had a large shipment of azure confiscated by the royal inspectors, do you think Elias will have the Daggers make a move on Lucious?” One of the men asked.

The raspy voice of his companion responded, “I will leave that for the likes of the Bosses to worry about, as long I have an ale and some azure to smoke at the end the day, I don’t give a fuck.”

Their voices were getting louder, they were about to round the corner. The man from the bar was blocking her exit route. Iris made a snap decision. Advancing on the stranger she grabbed his collar and pushed him against the wall. He was too startled to react. He was much taller than her so she had to use her hold on his collar to pull his face down towards her. His blue eyes met hers and widened. She pulled him down further and stood on her toes until their lips met. His lips were soft and warm against hers, opening slightly when they met hers. Through her layers of clothes, she could feel her breasts against his firm chest. He raised his arms from his sides and brought them to her waist, the heat from his hands radiated through her and ignited a need that she had long neglected. Her body’s reaction to him was unexpected, she was swept up in the current of him and felt no need to resist. Iris parted her lips and his tongue entered her mouth with a hunger that matched her own. She arched her back and he pulled her body against him so that it was flush with his. He moaned at the way their bodies fit together.

“Well at least someone is enjoying the night,” Chuckled one of the men passing. His partner grunted in agreement.

Iris was startled out of the moment; her body going rigid as she listened to hear their footsteps exit the alley way. Once they were gone, she extracted herself from his hold on her. She tried to put some space between them, and their eyes met. The depth of his gaze held her in place for a moment. Her body chilled and ached for the heat he had provided moments ago.

His voice was rough, “Your eyes - they are beautiful, I have never seen amarath eyes before.”

Iris pushed away from him. “There is nothing beautiful about how they came to be.” Iris turned to leave but he grabbed her left arm. His touch causing the need in her to rise again.

“I usually introduce myself before passionately kissing a woman in the street; my name is Ezekiel.”

“Forget me Ezekiel,” Iris tugged her arm from his grasp. In doing so the black cloth covering her cuff fell to the ground. Revealing her source stone which was clear with the slightest wisp of red.

On seeing her depleted source stone Ezekiel’s jaw dropped and his pupils dilated with fear. The faint red glow blinked out. Iris’ heart slowed and blackness creeped into the edges of her vision. Her legs weakened. Ezekiel moved his arm across her back catching her limp body. He lowered her to the ground. Ezekiel frantically removed his coat and tore the scarf covering his cuff to reveal a source stone that was such a deep purple it was almost black. Iris’ vision faded to darkness. Her ears were filled with the rush of her viscous blood being pumped by her faltering heart; it would all be over soon. The sound of Ezekiel’s curses were distant as he grabbed her left wrist and touched her depleted source stone to his.

“I will one year of my life source to you.”