Free Tell Me My Name by Mary Fan Page B

I hear the sound of
footsteps approaching. It must be the Sorci master, coming to
torment me again. The thought terrifies me, but there’s nowhere to
escape to, and so I remain where I am and bury my face in my
knees.
    Divinity, give me
strength , I pray. I wish an ayr would
swoop down from the Celestial Realm and carry me away, but know
better than to pin my hopes on such foolishness, since, though the
ayri watch over the world from afar, they can’t interfere with the
everyday matters of mortals.
    The footsteps come closer, and I hug
my knees tighter, knowing I can expect only pain. They stop outside
the cell. The Sorci master must be standing outside the window,
staring at me, and the last thing I want to see are those
snake-like eyes and cruel countenance. I could ask him again who I
am and what he wants with me, but he would respond only with more
tortures.
    Hopeless. All is hopeless.
    “ Hello?” a voice
calls.
    It’s not the Sorci master’s … it’s
Darien’s. I look up and see him gazing down at me from the window.
The flame of the torch he holds highlights his angular cheekbones
and glints off his broad shoulders, giving him a fiery halo. The
sight brings me a measure of relief, and I feel myself relax. At
the very least, he won’t hurt me. But knowing that his master would
cast his agonizing spell on me if I so much as speak to him taints
the comfort his presence would otherwise have brought. And what
would the magician do to his wayward apprentice for just that
single word, if he knew?
    Darien knits his black eyebrows with
concern and tilts his head as though examining me. “Are you all
right?” he asks.
    I automatically open my mouth, but
stop. If I respond, the master will accuse me of bewitching Darien
again, and inflict his cruel magic on me. The very memory of that
pain makes me quiver, and so I close my mouth, drop my gaze, and
give a slight nod. It’s a lie, answering his question in the
affirmative when I’m anything but all right, yet it’s the only
response I can give. The best thing that can happen right now is
for him to decide he’s satisfied with that answer and return to his
duties, before the Sorci master catches him talking to me
again.
    But my silence doesn’t seem to
discourage him, for he says, “Here, I brought you something to
eat.”
    His words, while spoken
softly, seem thunderous against the silence, and I cringe. Please let there be no one
listening , I pray. My body aches with the
memory of the million claws tearing through me from the Sorci
master’s curse, and though I know the pain is just in my head, it
feels almost real. I can’t stand the thought of enduring that
again. And what if he does the same to Darien this time? The only
thing worse than suffering myself would be to see the pain
inflicted on another.
    The practical thing to do would be to
get up and accept the food Darien has brought me without a word,
but I can’t muster the will. What’s the point? Eating and drinking
are things a person does to stay alive for tomorrow, but I’m not
living right now. I’m just existing – without purpose, without
hope, without even a name.
    Meanwhile, I hear Darien placing
something on the icy ledge of the cell’s window, and instinctively
turn to the sound. It’s another brown sack, like the one he brought
me before. I try to summon a smile to say “thank you,” but even my
lips feel heavy, and I only manage a slight twitch. So I give a
small nod instead, doing my best to hold my head high and appear
all right. Not out of pride – I don’t think I’ve had that since I
awoke in this cell – but in hopes of convincing him that it’s true.
Any concern he has for me would only bring us both more trouble
from the Sorci master.
    But it’s not working. His eyebrows
gather with worry, and he leans in, closer to the window. “What’s
wrong? Are you cold?”
    I shake my head. Since he doesn’t seem
to realize what my silence meant, I whisper, “Please, you