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A warrior should always remember their first true battle: the first time adrenaline floods the system, the first time steel sings through the air, the first time blood flows under their fangs.

But Hyla could not remember her first battle anymore. The memory had been taken from her in trade and all that were left were disconnected fragments. She remembered the feeling of her arm as she hacked away with her ax in short sharp thrusts like punches. She remembered the arboreal monstrosity, with vines that choked and bark that tried to strip fur from skin and skin from flesh and flesh from bone and grind the bone into nothing but dust. But she remembered very little else.

It was not that a first battle held mystical significance, but it should be, of all things, memorable.

It bothered Hyla that she could not remember it. The badger resolved to remember this day, her first full day as a slave, better. And this time, she wouldn't allow any god to steal the memory of it from her.

After waking, Azair had dragged her to the baths for a quick dip, then the fox fretted over the badger's fur with a brush until she was satisfied. Throughout it all, Colfor, the majordomo, waited for them with a slightly impatient tap of his foot, and Azair used the opportunity to voice her displeasure: the fox protested Hyla being taken to a customer on her first day. It wasn't done, she said, but Colfor said this was all at the Master's insistence. Azair could not argue with that, and so instead swore to be with Hyla until the very last moment.

When Azair said that they were ready, the rabbit led them out of the slave quarters and down a covered wooden path that wound around the impossibly large tree.

As they traveled, Colfor gave as many instructions as he could think of, that he was sure Hyla would remember. Azair chimed in with helpful tips.

"The most important thing," Colfor said, "is obedience. When they give an order, they expect it to be obeyed. That is key. Do not show hesitation."

Azair followed up. "They really like it if you can guess what they want before they have to order, but you have to be pretty used to the signs."

"How will I understand what the customer wants?" Hyla asked.

"This customer speaks badger."

Hyla's brow furrowed. "Isn't that unusual? I've already met four people who speak badger this far from our lands."

"Four?"

Hyla frowned at the question. She was not used to having to explain herself. The badger was taciturn in most cases and as a warrior--as a former warrior--she tended to let her fists do the explaining for her. "You, Azair, the Master, and now this customer."

The rabbit unsuccessfully hid a small smile and waved his hand about airily. "The Master does not actually speak badger. You may have heard badger when he spoke, but that is not the same thing. It is some power to do with being a channeler. When he speaks, you hear him in your native tongue: when you speak, he hears you in his. A god needs to be understood and to understand."

Hyla snorted at this. More god-stuff. It made her teeth itch.

Colfor went on without noticing her reaction, or perhaps deliberately ignoring her disrespect of the Master. "You will need to learn the local language sooner or later. Pick up what you can for now."

The trio came around a bend in the path, skirting around a gnarled root of the great tree, and a building rose into view before them. As plain and non-descript as the slave quarters had been, this building was elaborate. The key motif was an arch that rose to a point, like a half-drawn eye. The arch was repeated on all sides of the building, in greater and smaller forms. Each time it was painted in a deep, dusty orange, like a showier version of a coyote's pelt.

"That's Totukepsan's temple," Colfor said. "He lives there."

Hyla considered and risked saying something. "It seems a relatively small place to need you to be majordomo of it all."

The rabbit chuckled. "I am majordomo of the House of Totukepsan. The House is metaphorical. It extends all the way there." He gestured down across many buildings to where an open-air market sat at the base of the hill. If Hyla had to guess, the area indicated encompassed a quarter of the city.

"He controls all the trade?"

Colfor shook his head, sharply. "He oversees trade. As a channeler, he has some of the power of the god. Notably, he can tell when someone is being cheated in a deal, and that sense extends quite far. So people who need to make important trades will come from all over the continent and beyond, if they need to know the offer is fair."

"And if it isn't?"

Colfor came up short, stopping so suddenly in front of Hyla that she nearly knocked him over. "Then Totukepsan intervenes. Usually, it is not much. But I have... once or twice, seen the true face of the god. I do not wish to see it again."

Hyla felt some small vindication at this. Distrust and disgust at the gods, that was how things should be. They were dangerous and ought to be treated as such.

Without another word, Colfor continued walking. Hyla felt the fox's small hand slide into hers, keeping close to the badger's great size.

The trio arrived in front of the temple, which Colfor turned to and made a quick bow, before heading down a meandering pathway away from the temple and the great tree.

As they went down the hill, they quickly left behind the relative sparseness of the slave quarters and Totukepsan's temple and entered a teeming, swarming city more densely packed than anything Hyla had ever been to before. On each side of the descending path were an intricate complex of interconnected buildings. Elaborately painted signs hung outside each of them, advertising the wares or services within. Some were restaurants, some were shops, some were gambling establishments, some were fighting arenas (Hyla vowed never to go there), some contained... well, Hyla was not sure what the symbols were meant to entail, but as she walked past, she heard the crack of whips and pleasured moans come echoing from inside.

Roughly halfway down to the base of the hill, the rabbit turned and marched into one of the larger buildings. Inside, Hyla immediately noticed the number of weary-looking travelers, carting around bags or trunks of their possessions. She was not aware of what a hotel was; there were no such buildings in the badger lands. But she quickly understood the basic idea.

Past the many travelers was a wall of slaves, male and female, each collared and leashed to a post, seductively beckoning guests to let them ease the road's pains away in their tender arms. Each looked up to Hyla as she passed and offered a smile. Hyla found herself returning a tentative smile of her own.

Colfor led them both up a flight of stairs and then another. The rabbit stopped in front of a particular door, considered and turned to look at the fox. "Thank you for coming, Azair, but I wish to speak to Hyla in private before she begins."

The fox nodded meekly. "May I work here today?"

Colfor considered and shook his head. "I will meet you in the lobby to give you your assignment for the day."

Azair chewed on her lip for a moment. She did not have the authority to second-guess the majordomo in this. So she stood on the tips of her toes and gave Hyla a kiss as high up as she could reach. With one more squeeze of her hand, she left.

Once she was out of earshot, Colfor turned to Hyla. "Now, before you go in, one last thing you need to know." Colfor raised his hands and tapped out a syncopated rhythm on his palm.

Tap ta-tap tap tap.

"What is it?" Hyla asked.

"A call for help," Colfor said matter-of-factly. "Everyone here knows it. If anything happens, make that sound in that rhythm and someone will come to help you."

Hyla nodded slowly. Strong though she was, she knew not to mistake strength for invulnerability. Everyone at some point needed help.

Colfor turned to the door and straightened, adjusting the folds of his robe. He reached out and knocked loudly.

In the yawning span between the knock and the answer, the black swirling stew deep in Hyla's thoughts began to bubble once again. "You can't do this," it whispered. "You will be a failure at this just as you were a failure before." It lasted just long enough for her heart rate to speed up and her breathing to quicken.

Then the door opened.

Before Hyla stood a leopard dressed more elegantly than she had ever seen someone be dressed before. He wore a robe, similar to Colfor, but where Colfor's robe was pompous and overwrought, the leopard's robe was elegant: the embroidery was a tapestry of purples and red and golds and blues. It looked like it belonged on a king.

"Jun, this is Hyla Brokenfang, your slave for the day. Hyla, I introduce you to Jun Two-Sails, the finest tailor I have ever known."

Tailor? Hyla wanted to laugh. There was no way this man was a tailor. His gaze was sharp, his visible muscles corded like steel, his ears forward and focused. He gripped the top of a walking cane as though it were a mace he was about to smash into someone's face. Hyla bit back a sarcastic remark and instead asked about the name. "Two-Sails?"

A jovial smile, discordant with the taut sinews and piercing look, broke across the leopard's face. "I can be Three-Sails if you like. The last name has changed as often as the moon. So has the first come to think of it."

Hyla blinked, caught off-guard by the response. "How are you supposed to be a well-known tailor if you change your name all the time?"

Colfor coughed, trying to remind Hyla of the impertinence of her question, but Jun simply tapped his cane against the ground and answered anyway. "A tailor should be known by their clothes, not by their name."

"You must excuse her," Colfor said obsequiously. "She has not been trained in proper protocol and etiquette. However, she was the one you requested: the strongest slave we had."

The leopard nodded, unperturbed by her lack of training. "We'll see about that. Slave, give a demonstration of your strength."

The roiling blackness in her thoughts leaped up, eager for her to fail. The badger gritted her teeth against it and looked around. A demonstration of her strength? That would require something heavy or something sturdy that people would not mind being broken. For the latter, she saw nothing in the hallway. For the former, well, she was the heaviest thing around.

She turned to her right and let herself fall forward, beginning to perform a series of quick one-handed push-ups.

"Hold."

Hyla froze with her body near to the ground. Her breasts were just brushing the wood of the floor, but her arm did not even wobble under the strain.

The leopard walked over to her, and took a seat on her broad shoulders. "Continue," he said, tapping her side with the cane.

She did. The leopard was not light, but she barely noticed the added weight as she did four more push-ups before the leopard stepped off, satisfied. "Very good. Thank you, Colfor. I am more than satisfied."

Colfor made his small bow to the leopard, tipped his head almost imperceptibly at Hyla, and then turned and walked away.

Jun limped his way into the room, his weight heavily pressed onto his cane, and held the door open for Hyla to follow.

Inside was a spacious suite containing a large bed, a seating area, and a table. Several dishes were laid out on the table and Jun went to it. "Join me for breakfast." A command, not a suggestion. Hyla followed.

The breakfast was nothing like she had ever had before. She was not sure where Jun was from, but whatever land it was, the people from it seemed to enjoy a touch of fish with their breakfast. She avoided that and stuck to things closer to what she knew, simple porridges like she had had the previous night. They spoke little, but as they ate, Jun continued inspecting Hyla with his eagle-eyed gaze. The last time Hyla had been looked at that way, she received a reprimand for poor blade discipline.

"What are you, really?" Hyla asked.

"Just a simple tailor," the leopard responded, still in his far-too-bouncy sing-song voice that made no sense to the badger.

"You do not look like any tailor I have ever met."

"Have you met many tailors?"

Hyla grunted. "No," she admitted.

"There you have it. I am perfectly normal for a tailor then."

Hyla finished her meal and sat, watching the supposed tailor as he happily chewed away. Eventually, without even looking at her, he said, "Relax, slave."

"That... is difficult."

The leopard took another bite of fish, chewed on it for a minute, swallowed, and then said, "Why?"

Hyla considered her own feelings honestly. "You are not the person I expected."

"Oh, I see. You expected a mighty badger male who would immediately ravish you to the heights of ecstasy on his no-doubt impressively sized cock."

Hyla growled inwardly at that, but stopped it before it came out. "No, I--"

Jun held up a finger for silence. He bit into another piece of fish and spent a minute chewing. The simplicity and slow pace broke the rising tension that had been building in the badger. Even the blackness in her mind was forced to be quiet. After swallowing, the leopard twirled a finger in the air, permitting her to continue.

"I meant," Hyla continued and then stopped, realizing she wasn't quite sure what she had meant. Words. Why did they have to be difficult? "I meant that you present yourself as one thing when you are clearly something else."

Jun slurped a bit on a cup of tea. "I am what you see of me, just a simple traveling tailor."

"You are not."

Jun gave a melodramatic roll of his eyes and ran a hand down the elaborate robe he wore. "Very well, I suppose no simple tailor could have made something like this. I am a master traveling tailor."

"No," Hyla said, and this time the growl started to slip out around the edges of her teeth. "You are not a tailor. What are you really? Tell me the truth."

"Is a slave really presuming to order me around?"

Hyla winced. Shame burned its way into her throat. She was supposed to be trying to start a new life and reclaim her honor, and here she was, on the first day, breaking a fundamental rule of being a slave. If she couldn't even get this right, then what did she have left?

Jun continued, oblivious to the badger's inner turmoil. "At least, not without a customer telling you you should. I understand some will pay quite handsomely for a powerful woman like you to tell them what to do."

Hyla wasn't fully sure she understood that. But she didn't need to. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Sir am I, now?" There was a twinkle in Jun's eyes. It reminded her of how her teacher had looked once upon a time, after she had boasted to another student of her knowledge of sword technique and the teacher had invited her to demonstrate. He'd wiped the floor with her, of course.

Hyla considered her next words a bit carefully. "You are whatever you'd prefer to be."

"Yes, I am," he said. There was a sly smile on the leopard's face. "And I think what I'd like to be right now is admiring your beauty. Undress and stand there." He pointed to the middle of the room.

Hyla stood, removed the loincloth, which was the only thing she wore besides the collar, and stood at the indicated spot.

Jun ran a critical eye over her. "Turn just to your left," he said, in between sips of his tea.

She turned.

"Hold your hands behind your back."

She did.

"Lift your chin."

She did.

"Hold your chest out a little more."

She did.

"There. Perfect."

Hyla held the position as Jun slowly ate his breakfast and sipped his tea. He offered to bring her some, but she said she was not interested (which was true). Time crept onward and the sun slowly rose. Hyla was used to being on her feet. She did not even need to shift her weight to stay comfortable.

But while she could do as he asked, she did not know why she was doing it. He had said it was so he could admire her beauty, but that seemed as ridiculous as him claiming to be a simple tailor. She wasn't beautiful. Not in that way. She had the beauty a lover could appreciate, but the leopard's sharp gaze was looking at her with the same sort of unspoken reverence she had when looking at his elegant robe before.

He was scanning her form in between sips of tea, focusing on some innocuous detail of her figure. She began to wonder if he really was a tailor after all. Jun had the master craftsman look upon him, one where he was slowly building tapestries in his head, one thread at a time: all that was left to do was the simple business of making the thing.

It flustered her. The inky depths of her mind wanted to shout at him and tell him he was wrong and that she was not to be admired, but the set expression of seriousness on the leopard's face rebuked her without her saying a word.

More time passed and the amount of tea dwindled in the pot. At last Jun set down his cup with a definitive thunk on the table and made his way around the table to Hyla. He still held his walking stick like it was a weapon. When he reached her, he did not speak: he simply began to explore her body with a single hand, running fingers through her fur. She was impressed by the strength and dexterity of his touch. He pressed here, caressed there. Hyla felt like a piece of cloth that he was testing the fineness of.

Then his fingers brushed the edge of an old wound on her flank. There was a line, invisible on the surface, but clear to the touch, along the warrior's right side. His fingers explored it, running the length of the scar, judging its depth and severity. His fingers lingered a touch too long, she felt, for a tailor.

Then his hands were off again, exploring. Hyla was unsurprised when they reached her breasts and sex, fingering, prodding, caressing, stroking, flicking.

"Ah, there it is. The chink in the armor."

Hyla was not sure what she meant. She had to replay the last few moments in her head. He had been playing over her breasts. His fingers had caught a nipple between them and twisted gently. And she had sighed.

Damn it.

Once he knew she was sensitive there, he continued to inspect deeper, trying every trick he knew to tease or pleasure her breasts. Hyla found herself trying to keep steady, even breaths, as he did all he could to make her moan.

"Aren't you enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"I am."

"Typically when people are enjoying themselves, they act like they are enjoying themselves." When this prompted no response (even with another caress of her nipple), he sighed and said, "Ah yes, that classic stern badger w... worldly demeanor."

He'd been about to say warrior, she was sure of it. He knew. Somehow he knew. That only set Hyla more on edge.

He paced around her and ran his hands along her back. One of his arms crept between her flank and arm and managed to grope her breast unexpectedly. Hyla reacted on instinct, bringing her elbow up to smack into Jun's jaw. Only after the action was complete did she realize the mistake that was, but also she realized that her arm had not connected with anything. Jun smiled from her side. "You know, if I'd been a bit slower, that might have hurt."

The feeling of discomfort abated into a feeling of self-loathing. She was supposed to be better than this. She was supposed to be a slave. Slaves didn't lash out when they were used.

"I can see you are not at ease with me," Jun said and turned to the table. He unrolled a bundle from his luggage and Hyla gawked at all that it contained. Much of it was a tailor's baseline: needles, thread, pins, pincushions, and so forth. Some of the needles were extra-large too, nearly as long as Jun's hand. But among those were many other items made of wood and metal that she had difficulty describing. "My toys," he said. "Accouterments for a pleasurable evening's company. I would like to use some of these on you, but to ease your concerns, I will grant you one question for each item I use." He held up a hand before she opened her mouth. "But as you do not trust me, I suggest you ask questions you would not expect me to lie when I answer."

Hyla snorted. It felt like one of those old puzzles elders liked to give to kits, the kind you had to think in unexpected ways to solve. If she asked him what he really did, he'd just respond "tailor" so she had to be creative. She thought for a second then pointed to some of the odd devices in the roll. "Did you design these yourself?"

"Ah," Jun smiled. "I have designed some of these, often putting my own spin on other's work." He held up one such thing, it was a small but solid piece of wood with three holes down the center, and bolts on either side that allowed it to be tightened or loosened. He set to loosening it, the middle hole expanding as he did so. "Now stay still while I attach this."

He brought a hand to her breast and gently caressed it, thumb gliding over her areola in slow circles. His thumbclaw extended and dragged ever so gently against her skin. She felt her nipple stiffen under his attention and then he fit the device on top of her breast, her nipple fitting into the middle hole. Then he started to screw it closed again, the pressure increasing. He paused a moment and looked up to her. "Let me know if it's too tight."

She nodded and was more intrigued than not to see how it continued. It fit snugly around the base of her nipple, pinching it. And when Jun was done, the piece of wood hung from her breast with no support. Jun demonstrated the device's effect by running a claw gently over the tip of her nipple.

The pleasure was so unexpectedly intense that she sucked in a breath.

Jun was polite enough not to comment on her display of pleasure.

She wasn't yet sure what the other two holes were for, but she guessed she'd find out soon.

"Next question?" Jun asked, sitting back on a chair, one hand massaging his bad leg.

Hyla watched him, trying to evaluate him with the same care he had with her when she was posing for him. The badger noticed, belatedly, that she was already more relaxed around him, and she did not know if that was because of him allowing her to ask questions or because of the consideration he had shown with her pleasure: regardless, the disparity between his hard gaze and jovial smile no longer bothered her as much. "What did your parents do?" she asked.

"They were craftsmen, specializing in bows and arrows." He lifted the cuff of his robe and showed a small stitch in red that resembled an arrow in flight. Hyla marked that one away as a truthful answer.

The second nipple clamp was added without much fuss, and the combined weight of them on her breasts was making each breath... stimulating. The rise and fall of her chest made the weights rock and tug at her nipples.

It was distracting, but she felt like she had made a little bit of headway in her questions. "So how did the son of arrowsmiths and fletchers become a tailor?"

The leopard looked to the side, eyes drawn to the nothingness, the empty space in the room. He seemed to think about his response for much too long. "I was fascinated by the local courtiers. I wanted to get closer to them and their world of silk and gold. A flecher can't do that. But a tailor, suitably trained, can. So when there was an opportunity to... leave my parents, I apprenticed under a distant cousin." His breath had hitched almost imperceptibly for a moment.

"What did--"

"Ah, ah. One question, one piece of equipment. That was the rule." Jun pulled out a length of cord that looked surprisingly strong given its thinness. "Hands out in front of you, palm to palm, finger to finger. And then spread the fingers."

She did as he asked, eying the cord suspiciously. The position pushed her breasts together, jostling the weights again. Her short tail shivered at that.

Jun began to wind the cord around the base of her fingers, starting at her pinkies and then wrapping it once about every finger before stopping with a quick knot at her thumbs. "Now, hold your hands behind your head, thumbs against your neck."

She lifted her finger-bound hands behind her head. The two long ends of the cord trailed down over her shoulders and Jun took these cords, looping them into the top hole of the clamps. The leopard adjusted their length and tied them off. "Now, without injuring yourself, try to bring your hands back to your front."

Before trying that in earnest, Hyla tested the bonds. Her hands were quite tightly secured to one another. No amount of wiggling was going to get them apart. And every time she wriggled, she tugged on the cord, yanking the clamps up on her nipples. She groaned at that. Little tugs were nice, pleasurable even, but harder tugs were in danger of turning the pleasure to pain. No matter how far she bent her head forward, she couldn't bring her hands far enough over them. She could work her thumbs up her skull a bit and deal with the pain, but cresting the top of her head might have injured her. She relaxed and let her hands slip back down to the base of her neck. "I can't."

"Good, good." He gave a little bow. "Your question, last one, I believe."

She tried to think about all that he had said, and more importantly what he had not said. "This distant cousin of yours, he trained you to be a tailor?"

"No. He worked with knives." Jun gestured to the nearby bed. "Take a seat and lift your knees up."

Hyla pondered his responses as she sat as directed. She clearly hadn't asked the right question. She still had no idea why he was a tailor, and no idea why his demeanor so unnerved her.

Jun brought out another, much longer, length of cord and started to wrap it around her legs, above, below, and behind her knees. As he pulled it tighter, it pulled her upper and lower legs tight against one another, keeping them folded.

"Make sure your hips have been stretched."

Hyla took the advice and rotated her legs around before nodding to the leopard. She expected the end of the cord to get attached up to the remaining hole of the clamps. And Jun did that, but first he fed the cord around Hyla's backside, so instead of just pulling Hyla's leg's up, they were held slightly off to the side, exposing her sex.

"There," he said, stepping back and admiring the way the badger was trussed up. "Not quite sewing, but it's still a good use of my skills."

Hyla tested the limits of her motion. They were minimal. Her head could move, her tail could move, her toes and feet could move, but if she tried to move her arms, hands, torso, or legs at all, there was a sharp tug on her nipples. It didn't make her want to stay still. It made her want to squirm just a little, ever so slowly, to keep the stimulation slow and steady.

"Now that you're ready, it's time for me to get ready too." Jun shrugged out of his robe.

Hyla's eyes went wide as she watched as a spiderweb of scars appear down the leopard's arms and his back. These were not the scars of an accident, nor the scars of battle, nor even the scars of corporal punishment. These were jagged-edged and deep: torture scars. And when the robe dropped fully to the floor, Hyla could see one of his legs was permanently bent at a spot legs were not meant to bend.

Fear spiked back into her mind. "What are you?"

He blinked, genuinely surprised by the question. "As I told you, just a simple tailor," he responded again.

"Liar," she spat out. She grit her teeth. She was supposed to be acting as a a slave. And this was not how a slave should act. She moderated her tone. "No one tortures a simple tailor."

He glanced down as if surprised by the implication. "Oh this? This is nothing. Just an accident while hiking. That'll teach me to not mind my footing. Now I always have to mind my footing." He laughed to himself.

"You were tortured," she insisted.

"And I suppose a slave knows all about torture, hm? Outside of that chipped tooth of yours you seem in mostly good condition."

Jun started to crawl up onto the bed, but Hyla snapped her legs shut. The pain on her breasts was sharp and immediate, and even with her training, it showed on her face, but she didn't relent. "That," she said through gritted teeth, "is how they treat murderers."

"And you would know, as well-traveled as you clearly are." The jovial tone had dropped from the leopard's voice. There was a bitterness underneath it now. Or perhaps it had always been there, but now it was no longer hidden. "Maybe you have forgotten that out in less civilized parts of the world, murderer is what they call warriors who fought for the other side."

Realization slowly dawned on Hyla. Her mind started to fill in the little gaps of Jun's story. The way his voice had hitched at the mention of his parents. They were dead. No, not just dead. Killed by the "local courtiers." His cousin specialized in knives. No, daggers. A hired killer. A big enough needle could be used similarly to a stiletto and he did have some absurdly big needles in his kit. Maybe Jun was successful in his revenge, maybe not, but he had been captured, tortured... and then let go? No, exiled. Broken and shamed and sent to live among a people not his own, no longer a threat. He had pretended to be a tailor before to get close to the nobles, but now he pretended to be a tailor because... what else was there?

Just like Hyla pretended to be a slave. Because there were no other options available.

He, like Hyla, had pretended the old life had never existed, and here she had been throwing that back in his face all morning.

She relaxed slowly in her bonds. Her head hung low. "I'm sorry for my insolence, sir."

The badger closed her eyes as she felt Jun crawl back on top of her. She did not resist this time.

She waited, expecting him to mount her, but he didn't. She felt the trickle of his breath over her muzzle and opened her eyes to see him patiently staring back into her gaze. The fierceness his eyes had once contained was gone. Hyla had learned his shame, even if he had never spoken of it directly, and that had left him vulnerable.

Hyla leaned her head up and touched the tip of her nose to his. She tried to think of what she should say, but then gave up on that and thought about what someone like Azair would say. "Go on. I want to feel you in me."

He smiled a bit at that and lowered his head to her breast. The constant slow tugs on her nipples had made them extra sensitive, and enhanced all the things that Jun did. She would never have thought the feeling of a feline tongue lightly rasping the tip of her nipple would feel so good, and yet it did. And then his lips brushed along the skin, and then his teeth, and then his rough tongue was sliding back and forth across the exposed nipple eagerly. And all Hyla could think was that it was a pity he only had one head, because she would have loved to feel that on both nipples at once.

She made a point not to hold back the sounds of pleasure this time. She owed him that, warrior to warrior, even if neither of them would admit that's who they were any more.

He was very successful at working her up. When he entered her, a short while later, she was already wet and ready for him.

Jun was not as physically gifted as most badger males, who had been her sole experience before now. His shaft was no where near as thick or as long. But he wielded it well. He sunk in deep and began to thrust deep and hard, cradling her breasts to help shield them from the rocking movements.

Hyla was silently amazed amongst the gentle haze of pleasure. Small as he was, and large as she was in comparison, he was rocking her body significantly on each thrust. The strength he may have once wielded had not deserted him.

He shoved in deep again and again and Hyla clenched herself around him.

Jun was already panting from the exertion of the deep thrusts. While his strength had remained, his stamina had not. He bent his upper body down, resting his weight on her chest and tried to speed up his thrusts. Hyla didn't mind that this meant the tugs on her nipples was now even more pronounced. It felt good. Each thrust was accompanied a moment later by a sharp jerk on her breasts.

Jun's breath, which had been washing across the fur of her chest, started to hitch. He would thrust in deep and not pull out as fast. His body strained. And then, she felt it, the twitch of his shaft and the gush of his seed, before he let out a deep contented sigh.

Jun rolled Hyla to one side and slipped himself out. He blinked and stared bleary-eyed at Hyla. "Thank you," he said. "That was lovely." His voice was back to its feigned sign-song manner, but Hyla thought that this statement was true all the same.

They rested a while before he mounted her again. The eagerness and need were there, but Jun's body was not up to it. Hyla found herself using her legs, pressed against his side, to aid his thrusts. When he came again, it was with his eyes squeezed tight and his claws biting into her shoulders for purchase.

Hyla was pleasantly surprised when the exhausted leopard moved his hand down to her sex and began to stimulate her directly, as even through two of his own orgasms, she had not yet climaxed once. But Hyla was also not surprised when his hand slowed and stilled as the leopard had fallen into an exhausted sleep atop her.

Her own arousal continued to simmer, prodded on by each minor movement of herself or the leopard causing tugs on her nipples. But there was nothing she could do about it now, not unless she wanted to wake the leopard and beg for her pleasure.

With nothing to do, she drifted off into a fitful sleep of her own.

* * *

Hyla was startled awake by a sound so faint that she could not remember what the sound was upon reaching full consciousness. She was still bound tightly, in the same position as before, her muscles just starting to ache from the constant strain. She turned her ears every which way trying to hear it again.

Tap ta-tap tap tap.

Most people say that their blood runs cold when danger approaches. Not Hyla. Her blood ran hot in that moment. Adrenaline poured into her veins. There was a clear, definitive purpose to her life and in that moment nothing else mattered. "Jun," she said sharply. "I need to be set free."

He became alert even more quickly than she had, and he did not question the tone in her voice or the order she had given. The leopard produced a knife from somewhere and sliced through the ropes in four quick flicks. Hyla stood without even taking the time to stretch and ignored the lance of pain from her protesting limbs. She was out the door, naked, still with the clamps bobbing from her nipples, searching for the source of the sound. She thought she heard it coming from the next room down. And she had. She heard it again, closer and yet more faint. Hyla went for the door, tried it, found it locked. "Damn it," she cursed.

"What is it?" Jun was in the hall too, wrapping his robe back around him.

"It's locked."

He smiled. "And that would stop you?"

Hyla looked at the door, put her shoulder to it, and shoved.

The hinges on the door were big and sturdy, designed to hold a much bigger door. They had been crafted with care and strength. And they gave way like a piece of nettle being prized out of fur.

Before the door had completely fallen in, Hyla surveyed the room. There was a wolf on the bed, a slave, trying to fight off a large otter who was choking her.

Hyla saw red.

The action was so instinctual, so natural. She dropped forward and ran, hands down low, ready to shove the claws in at the hip and slash upward, exiting at the throat--a short, quick efficient kill.

"HYLA!"

Jun's voice cracked like a whip in her ears, snapping her from the bloodlust. She stood frozen to the spot, a half-step away from killing the man. He was cowering back, hands raised to protect his face.

Hyla stood frozen to the spot, panting. Her hands were still held down, claws at the ready, while the blackness in her mind screamed for blood. "Give in," it whispered. "Do it. You were never going to be good at anything else in your life anyways."

The badger fought for each ounce of self-control she could muster and turned to the wolf, still gasping for breath on the bed. She picked her up, beginning to carry her out of the room. Hyla would make sure she was safe.

Behind her, she heard the otter speak. She did not know the words, but she knew the tone, snide and dismissive. Hyla was nothing to him. The wolf was nothing to him. Just slaves.

The blackness screamed in her mind. Her hands clenched into fists.

It would be easy. It would be so easy to just turn around and separate his head from his shoulders.

A whistling sound dashed past her ear, and the otter's tone rose to a piercing shriek. Hyla whirled and saw the otter clutching a hand in front of him, a long needle embedded straight through the palm. As she watched, the leopard held up another needle with a look of mock concern. "I should really be more careful where I leave these. It is so easy to trip and fall onto them. Don't you think?"

Hyla said nothing and took the wolf downstairs to safety.

* * *

Hyla and Jun did not return to the room for several hours. There were reports that had to be filed with the local police and questions that had to be answered. Hyla held the wolf close, refusing to let her go until someone she trusted had arrived (in this case, Colfor).

As Hyla had hardly eaten except for a bit at breakfast, Jun ordered a substantial dinner for them. It was elegant and refined, like nothing the badger had ever seen before. But she could not savor it. She was restless and paced back and forth with a plate in one hand. She ate the contents without heed to their taste or texture.

"Would it help to exercise?" Jun asked conversationally. "We could spar perhaps."

Hyla's fists clenched. Yes, it would, she thought. "No, it wouldn't," she said.

He knew she was lying, she could tell. But he let it slide.

She was a slave. She should be a slave. "I should be serving you. I should have something to do."

"I am fine," Jun said in his aggravating sing-song. "Once I am done with dinner, I will settle in to watch the sunset. The view from here should be spectacular."

She grimaced. "But that's not something for me to do."

"You can watch with me--"

"I wanted to kill him!" Hyla felt the words burst forth. "It was so easy to want to kill him. I didn't even try to stop myself. If you hadn't called out, I'd have soaked my claws in his blood."

The leopard shrugged. "He'd have deserved it."

"But I wouldn't have," the badger said, almost to herself. She started pacing again, faster, until the rhythm became a blur and she had to actively focus to prevent herself from walking straight into the walls or other objects in the room. There was so much she could say, but they were both trying to maintain the polite fiction that she had always been a slave and he had always been a simple tailor, and their shame did not exist. She could only dance around the edge of the topic. "I'm supposed to be different now. I don't want to still be... that."

The leopard considered this and snapped his fingers. The badger's ears perked up at this. "Sit on the bed," he said. "Face the window."

She did as she was told, grateful even for a moment to be able to sink back into the new role she had been given. When she was in place, Jun hobbled over from the table and slid between her legs, relaxing back against her bulk and the fur of her belly. He looked out the window as the sky started to show signs of purple and red.

It was going to be a beautiful sunset.

"Who you were," he said as the colors brushed across the sky, "is always a part of you. You cannot change that. You can only accept it and move on." The "as I have" was left unspoken.

She grumbled and growled. "It's not that easy to just let go."

"It never is," the leopard admitted.

"But if I can't..."

"You won't." There was finality in his tone. He had tried and failed and so knew she would try and fail as well.

The words struck her deep and the blackness welled up inside her. "Then I don't know what good I will ever be."

"What good?" Jun smiled at this, although he didn't move much. His head was nestled in against her breast as though it were a pillow. His sing-song voice had returned. "You have provided relief and happiness to a worn-out old assassin. Isn't that worth something?"

"Yes, but--wait, don't you mean 'simple tailor'?"

"That's what I said."

Jun's words mumbled out, and his head dipped slightly. Hyla belatedly realized he had once more fallen asleep, breathing slow and steady against her. He could not see the colors burst on the horizon, so the badger watched for him and resolved to tell him how beautiful it was when he woke.

Jun shifted in his sleep and his hand fell against Hyla's thigh. The iron strength of his muscles and sinew was gone: for the first time since Hyla had met him that morning, he was truly relaxed.

The sun dripped below the horizon. The colors drained from the sky and the stars began to dance. And all the while, the blackness in Hyla's mind was quiet.

Yes, she answered belatedly, yes it was worth something.

* * *

The wolves have a saying: in the shadow of every good deal is a little lie.

It started as a bit of clever wordplay in the old wolf tongue. But it had the germ of a truth inside it, so the saying was repeated even long after the language changed and the wordplay was lost. With every retelling, belief in the simple saying grew, and as the belief grew, it shaped reality.

And so the god of fair trades was always wary of his shadow.

It was late. The last of the visitors had left the temple, and only a few guards remained. The channeler of Totukepsan asked them to leave. The coyote wanted solitude tonight.

That was a lie.

The guards bowed and left. The mighty door swung shut behind them with a sound like distant thunder.

In the quiet, the channeler began to extinguish the lights in the great hall. One by one, the room grew darker, until only a single brazier remained. The coyote stood in front of it, so that it threw his shadow all the way to the far end of the hall. The erratic light made his form dance across the stones, tall and dark and terrible. But it was just a shadow.

That too was a lie.

"Boskan!" he shouted the name, which echoed against the flat walls of the hall, until it was consumed by the shadow.

The light flickered. The shadow seemed to move. The black canine head turned as if to look at the speaker.

"Boskan, I want to make a trade." The coyote's voice was still strong. He started to walk away from the brazier. The laws of optics demanded that the shadow shrink as he grew near, but it did not. Because now it was far more than just a a shadow.

"Why, Totukepsan," the shadow said in a voice like the burble of a mud-choked river. "What a delightful surprise." A lie.

Eyes opened and shut over the coyote's body. They all looked up at the shadow. "Are you willing to make a trade?"

The light flickered. The shadow's arm moved under its chin. "I am a very busy god." A lie. "But it has been so very, very long since you have wanted to make a trade with me. What has driven you to that, I wonder."

The eyes of Totukepsan shut one by one, and in their place mouths opened, teeth bared in warning. The channeler controlled his god's anger. He spoke clear and unperturbed. "Recently a badger has come under my employ. Hyla Brokenfang. Do you know her?"

The shadow rolled shoulders of blackness. "It's not like I can keep track of every mortal you entertain yourself with." A lie. "But yes, I know her."

"I need the answer to one question regarding her. And I need an honest answer."

"Honesty? Honesty?" The shadow's voice boomed suddenly, echoing with power and rage. "You come to the god of lies and you expect honesty?"

But the channeler stood his ground. It was his temple. "Yes. One honest answer. Only one."

"I could just lie."

"If you broke a deal with me, Boskan, I would know."

The shadow seethed. The edges of it seemed to suck the light from around them. "What is the question then?"

"I want to know whether Hyla is a part of any of your schemes."

The edges of the shadow slowly sharpened. The seething anger that had filled the hall a moment ago began to fade. "I will make a trade. In return for answering your question, you will answer one of mine. A fair trade." A lie.

"What is your question?"

The shadow shook its head. "You learn after the deal has been made."

"I accept. What is the answer to my question?"

"The answer is not at all. The first I heard of this Hyla Brokenfang was when she showed up in your care, and I have not done anything to her or near her since she arrived." The shadow seemed to twitch and shudder at such a simple expression of truth. "Now for my question: why do you care, brother?"

The use of the family endearment knocked the coyote momentarily off balance. Boskan was not necessarily an evil god, but he never did good in a straight-forward way. Nor did he display his affections obviously. The mouths of Totukepsan faded away: the eyes reopened. "I... I merely sense something is wrong about her."

"Liar," the shadow hissed. But it was a hiss with a hint of admiration.

"Not the whole truth, but not a lie."

"Not telling the whole truth is just another way of lying. It is what makes you such a good bargainer." The shadow seemed to reach out. Fingers extended along the walls towards the coyote. "But I do not accept your answer. Mortals are wrong in many ways. You would not think me involved simply for that. So, again, brother, why do you care? And remember, I will know if you lie." The shadow leered forward.

The coyote clenched his hands into fists. "As I said, something about her is wrong, but what concerns me is that I cannot tell what it is that is wrong. She has been shrouded from me." He hesitated. He did not want to say the next thing. He was worried that by saying it, he would make it true. "I worry someone has broken the pact."

The shadow flinched and withdrew. When he spoke, his words dripped venom. "And you thought it was me."

"No, brother, I hoped it was you. Because for all your scheming, you have always honored the pact. And for that I thank you." The coyote bowed deep and low. "But that was all I required. I will take no more of your time."

"A pleasure as always." A lie. "I eagerly await our next meeting." Another lie.

The shadow shrunk and diminished, sliding down the wall until it became the channeler's shadow, and nothing more.

The coyote tended to the last night duties of the temple before retiring to his quarters. All the while he told himself that everything was fine.

But this too was a lie.

Next time: Hyla Brokenfang in the Artificer's Library