All my life I’ve been running from evil.
It’s time to start running towards fate.

Human women exist for the use of others on Protheka.
Being a servant is all I’ve ever known.
When I try to flee, I end up in more danger than ever before.
Until I’m rescued by a fearsome minotaur warrior.
Trigon refuses to let anything hurt me.

He protects me. Values me. Claims me.

Together this warrior and I will take on the very gods that created this forsaken planet.

And together we will defy them.
We will prevail.
And be joined together.

Because Trigon and I are bound by stronger chains than magic.
Stronger than any contract on Milthar.

We are bound by love.

Chapter 1

Sandra

I pull the hood tighter over my head, trying to obscure my face. Mallus has no idea that I’m gone yet, and I’d like to keep it that way. I can’t do five more years as a contracted slave to him, I just can’t. I’d die first.

I tricked him into drinking a bit too much. Not enough that he’d lose his temper – he gets mean when he’s drunk, and that’s saying something. He’s mean all of the time, but he’s downright savage when he’s been imbibing.

No, I gave him just enough to make him sleepy and a bit disoriented. When he turned in for the night, I took off. Hopefully, I’ve bought myself at least a few hours before he notices.

But I also need to make sure I don’t draw too much attention, or they’ll wonder what a human is doing out by herself. Since most of us are servants to the minotaur, I don’t want them stopping me and asking questions.

I’ve made up my mind that tonight I will make my escape. I’m getting on a boat and stowing away. I have to get far enough that Mallus can never find me. I’m his property, and I know he won’t let me go without a fight. So, I have to make it so that he has no choice, by just disappearing.

When I signed my freedom away to him, it was supposed to be that he would take care of me. I was his servant, but at least I’d have a place to stay and food to eat. That was the idea, anyway, and that’s why I agreed to it. Starving on the streets or getting myself killed by the dark elves didn’t sound appealing.

I didn’t comprehend just what I was signing up for, though. He hits me frequently, and sometimes very hard. The abuse is hard to deal with, and I never know what will set him off next. He barely feeds me, or really does anything to keep me safe or healthy.

It’s a miracle that he hasn’t worked me to death, quite literally. I know if I stick around for five more years, it will happen eventually. I didn’t expect him to treat me as an equal, but I’m lower than livestock now. I don’t think he has any intention of even keeping me alive by the end of my contract. If I make it that long, he’ll kill me himself before he lets me go.

And that’s why I’m running. I’d go anywhere but here, but I’ve got a particular place in mind. I’ve waited a long time for tonight, and it’s finally here. I feel almost sick with the excitement and nervousness of it all.

As eager as I am to get out of here, I wasn’t careless. I’ve taken the time to plan this out. There’s no room for recklessness. If Mallus catches me, I’m in for a world of hurt. I’ve seen how cruel he can be, without provocation. I can’t imagine what he’d consider an appropriate punishment for a runaway.

I’ve picked a specific boat to stow away on, evaluating my options carefully. The ship that I finally selected is heading north to the Orthani region.

It’s dominated by dark elves, which isn’t my favorite choice. The dark elves are what got me in this mess in the first place. If they hadn’t shown up and decimated my beloved hometown of Skillet’s Cove, I’d still be living there happily with my parents. But it’s better than sticking it out here with the minotaur, and specifically, Mallus.

The minotaur are just as bad, or maybe worse, than the dark elves. They promised us refuge when the dark elves laid siege to our home. We had to agree to Indentured servitude, and when we served our time, we would regain our freedom. Considering the only other option was death at the hands of the dark elves, servanthood managed to sound like the more appealing choice.

For most of the other humans, it seems to have worked out okay. They have good relationships with their masters, who aren’t anywhere near as mean-spirited as Mallus. They don’t suffer regular beatings for the smallest grievances, real and imagined, the way that I do.

I should be happy for them, but it only makes my resentment grow. If Mallus isn’t acting the way that the minotaur expected, when they designed this plan, why does no one call him on it? Why do my own people not step in and say what he is doing is wrong?

No one wants to disturb the illusion of peace, so they let him continue. It’s an acceptable burden for me to bear -- because they’ve all gotten theirs. I can picture them now, shaking their heads and remarking how it’s too bad I didn’t luck out the way that they did. They could intervene, they could put a stop to this at any time. Instead, they chose to pull up the ladder and leave me behind.

I’m bitter, and who could blame me? But that’s fine. I’m taking matters into my own hands, starting tonight. When I get on this ship, I’ll head into Orthani. It’s a short trip, and I can settle in one of the human villages on the coast.

I start to pick up my pace, feeling as though I’m being observed. The trick to not getting caught is to move with purpose and look as though you know where you’re going. If I hesitate at all, someone might call me out and ask what I’m doing here.

At the docks, I scan the ships. My heart begins to sink as I overhear the chatter coming from the gangway of a nearby boat. It isn’t as simple as I thought to simply walk on the boat. They’re checking each passenger against their ticket and the ship’s manifest, even going as far as to make them answer questions like parent’s names and occupation.

I’ll never be able to sneak past the crew to get on the boat. There are too many eyes, and too many questions. Are all the ships like this?

I move further down the dock, realizing to my chagrin that the other ships seem to be just as secure. I rub my face in frustration, which draws the gaze of a few observant onlookers nearby. Hurriedly, I move on from that ship, not wanting to be noticed.

Ship after ship is more of the same, and a feeling of dread comes over me. I’ll drown myself in this water if I have to, before I go back to Mallus. What am I going to do?

I’m starting to panic, though I try hard not to show it. If I give any indication that I don’t belong here, people will start to ask questions. I can’t look confused or uncertain, or it’ll be the end of me. I just keep traipsing further and further down the dock, with no clue where I’m going anymore or why.

I passed the ship that I wanted a long time ago. I have no idea what to do next. In a stroke of pure luck, I happen to hear someone yelling.

“Aren’t you done yet? We’re getting bawled that the boxes aren’t in yet. Set your hands to helping if you’ve checked them all in, will ya?”

A minotaur standing in front of the gangway of the next ship rolls his eyes, but he does scurry out to the docks to help load the remaining freight. I draw in a sharp breath, my eyes darting around. The coast is clear.

I don’t even take the time to think about it. There isn’t a moment of hesitation on my part. Whether perhaps there should be is anyone’s guess, and I suppose only time will tell.

But this open door won’t last for long – maybe only seconds, for all I know. And I strongly doubt there will be another opportunity. I had to search hard for this one, so I’m going to grab it with both hands and hope for the best.

I scurry silently into the ship, quickly reading the side with curious eyes. The Star Treader, it says. Well, Star Treader, you’re my new home for the next few days.

I can hear the noise of the crew, and deliberately turn the other direction. There’s a small stairway that leads under the deck, and no one is nearby. I glance around, making sure that no one is watching, and head below deck.

It’s very small and cramped. I’m walking through what seems to be a long, narrow hallway. The air feels stuffy and has a mildewy smell that irritates my nose unpleasantly.

There’s almost no light, which makes it hard to see where I’m going. That, in turn, only makes my heart race more. I should be grateful, however, because it’s less likely that anyone will notice me down here. They can’t see more than a foot in front of their face.

There’s lots of little, small rooms shooting off to each side, storing various goods. I pick one at random, panicking when I hear a noise behind me. Darting into the first space I can find to hide; I quietly tuck myself in a corner. Squinting my eyes shut in fear, all I can do is silently hope for the best.

The sound that had spooked me just moments before was the men, carrying pieces of the remaining cargo down into the hold. Their voices come closer and closer, and I hold my breath anxiously. But then they pass right by, continuing on their way.

When I’m confident that they’re far enough away, I relax slightly, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. But I don’t move, knowing that they could come back at any time. If I was concealed from sight here, there’s no reason to budge. Not yet, anyway.

Something runs up my arm, and I have to bite my tongue to resist the urge to scream. It makes my skin crawl. My entire body tenses up, frozen as whatever this thing is stops on my shoulder. I can feel the fur brushing the side of my neck. I grit my teeth together, trying to look out of the corner of my eye to see what it is.

A rat. Great. Just what I need. A big, smelly, disgusting rat who wants to be my friend. Well, I suppose he’s better than the rat that was my old master. At least this one isn’t hitting me or starving me.

I slowly lift my hand up to my shoulder, letting him perch on my hand instead. It feels more comfortable to have him there, and at least gives me the illusion of control.

Moving my hand a few feet in front of my face, I peer at the rat seriously. The idea still makes me feel a little sick, but I suppose I might as well make the best of it. I’d imagine I’m going to have to get used to dealing with rats.

“I’m going to call you Mallus,” I declare in an emphatic whisper. It’s a silly thing but it feels like I’m striking one last blow against the horrible minotaur who treated me so badly. At least I get the last word in, with a swift but well-deserved insult.

It’s a way of reclaiming my power, as if to say he can’t hold me down forever. I’m getting out of here, and you’re nothing but a rat. Symbolically and literally, in a way.

Right now, trapped on a boat I didn’t mean to be on, in a steerage area I can’t get out of, and going who-knows-where, I need whatever I can get to make me feel in control. Even if it’s just bossing around a little rodent. It’s the only thing smaller than me, at the moment.