The blood-red sunset sank into the dark horizon. Autumn rain had fallen since morning. Sticky mist clung to the yellowing forest. A crow fought through wet leaves, cawing ominously.

Durant, the man with the four-petaled mouth, insisted on celebrating this cold, wet night. They stretched canvas between clumsy four-wheeled wagons, calling it a palace roof. Rusty braziers burned damp wood like it was charcoal. Slave traders yanked the shackles on the women’s wrists and dragged them out of cages. A few men hauled out an old round table and set it in the middle. Fro saw the worn carvings and guessed some penniless noble had paid for slaves with used furniture.

Durant was smug. He cradled a silver cup while a tamed girl poured him cloudy ale. His men brought a basin of brined beef, soaked hot till it softened. They added one unlucky rabbit and four roast rats. Durant leaned back, satisfied, surveying it all like the king of a tiny kingdom. Fro sat opposite, chewing tough beef. Eating beside a Half Elf made him uneasy.

“Eat up, my friend. How many days since you had meat?”

Fro suddenly felt the beef was tougher than shoe leather, and faintly sour. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I saw your bags packed with beans and salt,” the Half Elf said. “When did an Elven Knight eat like that?”

Fro flushed. He hadn’t earned the Knight’s title yet. He was just a commoner answering the Elven Queen’s call to war.

“You paid me too little,” Fro said. He recalled the maiden’s beauty and felt guilty. “I could only buy an old warhorse. You haul her to Lujin City and the whole city will go mad.”

“Why doesn’t our great Knight carry her to Lujin City himself?” Durant said.

The men around them roared with laughter. Fro’s face burned. He couldn’t speak.

“You want more money? Simple. Work with me,” Durant said. “After this job, we hire more hands and go to Kukikal. Big-chested girls there are more common than potatoes. Take as many as you want.”

Just then, a young slave snapped. She flung the tray to the ground and sprawled there. No dragging could lift her. A man in a rusted helm drew a whip and struck. A skinny dog tied to a wagon barked and barked. Screams flooded the camp again.

Durant slammed his silver cup on the table and roared, “Stuff straw in her mouth! Make her quiet!”

Then he turned back, still lifting his silver cup. “So? I can give you two gold a month. The longer you stay, the more I pay. I’ll even cut you in. You won’t march to the front and die for your Queen for a handful of coppers.”

The Elf stared at him. He found the Half Elf base and sly. There was no sacred homeland in that heart. War wasn’t just about money. It was for nation and kin. Fro squirmed. He just wanted to leave. The Silverhaired Maiden’s pale-gold eyes were stamped on his mind, pricking his conscience. Working for slavers was out of the question.

As if you’re not a slaver yourself, he mocked himself, swallowing bitter ale. But what choice did he have? Without a horse, he couldn’t join. The army wouldn’t take his report. To fight, he’d spent everything. His sister lay bedridden. He couldn’t go home empty-handed.

“No. You can keep your pay. Give me four more gold and I walk now. I won’t tell anyone,” he said. “I don’t want a half-blood boss.”

The air froze. Everyone knew Elves despised Half Elves.

Durant didn’t get mad. He laughed hard. “So our friend is not only a Knight, but a pureblood Elf! But you look a bit human. Maybe our grandparents were one family.”

Fro slammed his cup on the table and jabbed a finger at Durant’s split lips. “You’re talking nonsense!”

“Hahahaha, hit the mark, did I? Oh no, so angry.”

The slavers around them laughed and drew steel. One tapped Fro’s backside with a sword. “Sit down, kid.”

Fro glared daggers.

“Enough, Gurov,” Durant ordered. “Tonight we eat. The Elf is our guest. No blades.”

The mercenary hung his scimitar at his belt. The Elf sulked and kept chewing the hard corned beef. A bald man beside him gnawed a roast rat with relish. Fro caught a sweet scent in the air, a happy smell. It yanked him back to childhood. His neighbor girl, and his mother’s honey candy sticks.

A woman’s scream cut them all off.

The screamer was the sallow-faced woman. She was feeding Aelina her fifth bowl of boiled salted beans when the noseless mercenary burst into the tent. His eyes were blood-red. Desire had swallowed him. He lunged. The sallow-faced woman shrieked and stood. She yanked out a dagger. He swept her down with one shove.

“My treasure.” His crotch bulged high. His face was flushed. Food crumbs smeared his lips. His eyes locked on Aelina with vile hunger. He couldn’t wait. His filthy hands darted for her.

A stench of alcohol hit her. Aelina sprang aside at once. The chain on her neck yanked her short. The noseless brute fell short. He rolled and grabbed both her snow-white boots. He hugged her calves tight. A thick male musk enveloped her. Her body twitched with a strange response. A sick fire raced up from her belly. Aelina cried for help and fought to pull out her right leg.

The noseless man sniffed greedily. He couldn’t wait. His rough tongue came out, long and hard, licking her white boots. Through thin leather, Aelina felt something soft and hot slide over her calf. A tingling spread up her leg. She hated that she’d tuned herself too sensitive back then. She braced and yanked, finally freeing her pale calf from the boot.

He snatched for her calf. She moved fast, but his rough palm still brushed skin. Pleasure hit like lightning. Her body shivered. Blissful weakness took over her limbs. No! Stop! Not now! she raged inside. Her body ignored her. She sagged onto the furs, letting out a trembling, seductive gasp.

The noseless man went rabid, like a dog on stimulants. He sprang and pounced on her soft, helpless body. Aelina squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t resist at all. She knew this body, under forced coupling, only stoked the other’s desire. Then let him spill it all in comfort.

Suddenly, the noseless man was slammed aside. He didn’t care. His eyes had only Aelina. He crawled on all fours toward her. Fro drew his sword and chopped hard. The man only jolted, then kept crawling. Fro grabbed his ankles. Those filthy hands stopped a palm from her. The noseless man howled, beastlike, kicking hard.

Durant stormed in, raging. He drew a dagger and stabbed, again and again. Blood ran everywhere. Finally, the noseless one stopped writhing. He died with eyes wide open, still staring at Aelina’s body.

Mercenaries dragged the corpse out. Their eyes lingered on Aelina. They dragged slow, like they’d drag for a century. She trembled, sick to her core.

“You’re all bewitched!” Durant bellowed, four-petaled mouth twisted. “No one touches my treasure! Elf! You’re the only one still sober. Take your sword and guard your princess. Any man comes in, stab him.”

Fro started to refuse. Durant kicked and shoved his men out. Soon, only Fro and Aelina were in the tent.

Guilt and awkwardness pinned the Elf. He couldn’t face Aelina. He turned his back and stood still.

“Elf Fro, turn and look at me.” It sounded less like a plea and more like a command.

Before he turned, Fro made up his mind. He would save her, no more wavering. He saw Aelina’s fair face flushed, dazzling. She was pulling her long, pink-tinged legs back into her boots. Her expression stayed cool and stern.

She said, “Sell a girl for fifty gold coins? Then two a month? You’re fine with that?”

Fro turned his face aside, embarrassed.

“Give me the pearly-white metal handle on you, and I’ll show you real power.” Her clear voice dripped irresistible allure. “Knighthood will be in your hand. Your people will sing your name.”

How did she know what he wanted? How did she know he had the handle? It didn’t matter. Fro felt hypnotized. He glanced around and slowly pulled out the pearly-white handle.

It was a strange thing. The Silverhaired Maiden had kept only this on her. It looked like a weird Magic Wand, or the hilt of a magic sword.

Aelina took the handle. A smile touched her lips. She finally had it. The Molecular Reconstructor. The lifeboat’s only surviving tool. Infinite run time. Extremely hard. You could drop it from the atmosphere and it wouldn’t chip. The only downside was its limited function: it could only disassemble matter to molecules and rebuild it.

On this primitive planet, that was enough.

Aelina gripped it. Her personal system linked to the Molecular Reconstructor. Pale blue light lit the tip. Fro stepped back, wary, hand on his hilt.

This Golden Ape was scared. She mocked him inside. She aimed the tip at her collar. The Molecular Reconstructor fired a blue beam. Blue light wrapped the collar and chain. Before the Golden Ape’s eyes, solid iron melted like snow. It turned to gray vapor. The vapor danced in the blue glow, gathered, and became a lifelike iron statue before the maiden.

Fro’s eyes went wide. The iron statue was him. Hand on his hilt, body leaning back. His face was all wariness and fear.

Aelina watched Fro lift his head, stunned. She breathed out two proud syllables. “Power.”

Footsteps approached the tent. She swept the statue with the beam. It dissolved to molecules, then reformed into the heavy collar and chain. She tossed the Molecular Reconstructor back to Fro.

“Keep it. When you decide, find a chance and throw it to me.”

Aelina looked deep into the Elf’s green eyes. They were full of shock. This Golden Ape’s small brain hadn’t grasped what it meant. She would tame this Golden Ape and make him obey.

Someone stepped in. Durant. Fro turned like a guilty thief. “Good Elf, you’re perfect for guard duty, but I don’t trust any man with a cock. Come out and enjoy the bonfire with us. Let the sallow-faced woman tend to her.”

“Bonfire?”

“Yeah. The kind that screams.” He smiled and pushed up his glasses.