Manny’s eyes fluttered open slowly, letting her take in the familiar sight of her beloved Master as she got her bearings and gathered her wits. She felt good, especially compared to the last few days. Recovering from his bite had been a taxing affair—doubly so because he didn’t allow her any slack on the ever-growing list of duties she had.

“Good morning, Little Elf,” he said, fondly, once he saw she’d opened her eyes. She heard tension in his voice, and after scrutinizing their bond, she felt where it was coming from. He was aroused—that was probably part of why she woke up feeling so good—and glancing down revealed someone was actively tending to him, under the covers.

“Who’s the lucky servant?” She asked with a gesture down to the moving mass between her Master’s legs, as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was delightfully intense, fuelled by the passion inflicted on him. Very quickly, she felt herself getting in the mood as well, and just before he could answer, she added, “and why isn’t it me?”

“You’ve been… busy,” he said, straining a little. Manny could feel through their bond that whoever it was was getting him close to his release. “And I figured you’d need your rest.”

She couldn’t really argue with that. On top of her chores and lessons, the last few days had been filled with trysts of all kinds with nearly everyone her Master had invited to the dinner and eclipse. From a very eye-opening afternoon spent with Edith while her Master watched, to a very rough—but fun—encounter with the bear beastkin Ursula, she’d taken enough lovers at her Master’s orders that even a priestess of Ishara might have blushed.

“I’m never too busy or tired for you,” she promised, leaning in close for another kiss. This time he hooked a hand behind her head and held her close as his tongue explored her mouth. She giggled and eagerly let herself be restrained by him. With one hand, she began to explore between her own legs as his arousal permeated her more and more, though she could feel it wouldn’t last much longer.

Indeed, only a minute later, he let out a growl and pulled on her hair as he had his climax. Manny relished in marinating in the feeling while it lasted, grinning and giggling when their kiss broke. But he quickly came down from the high, and that took most of her interest in masturbation with it.

She didn’t mind one bit, though. Being subject to his whims was one of the greatest pleasures in life, and being deprived of it for even a moment was torture, as she’d discovered when Ibrahm’s magics briefly sabotaged their bond. No, things like this—the strands that connected them tugging occasionally—didn’t do anything but make her smile in grateful appreciation for the guidance it provided.

When the hump under the sheets began to move, Manny scooted to the side a little to let her Master’s lover surface between them. It wasn’t a big surprise when Alara emerged, grinning and purring, “good morning, Sunset.” One of her hands found Manny’s bare thigh, and it slowly caressed up her side and chest until it reached her neck, where it met the collar it could grip to pull Manny into a kiss.

The priestess tasted like her Master, and Manny relished that as she enjoyed the brief display of intimacy and affection. For a moment, she didn’t do much to reciprocate, but once she felt a pulse of approval from him, she let her hands explore the woman’s body a little until the kiss broke.

“I trust I’ve made my point, Lord Borohon?” Alara asked with a glance to her Master.

“Oh, yes, I think you have,” he responded.

“Should I know what you’re talking about?” Manny asked, sheepishly, as Alara laid down on the bed between them, smiling up at the ceiling that was covered in the multi-colored light the manor’s heavily tinted windows cast on it. Manny frowned at that. As much as she liked the priestess, her putting herself between Manny and her Master like this was distasteful. “Could you…” Manny trailed off, uncertain of how to even articulate it.

“I don’t think so,” her Master said after a moment of consideration. “But I’m far from opposed to Alara explaining it.”

“It’s hardly anything,” Alara said, glancing at Manny. “It’s just… one of the few things Lord Darishi and Ishara agree on.”

“Which is?” Asked Manny, doing her best to put the matter from her mind when her Master didn’t comment on Alara’s intrusion.

“That we should use our bodies to get ahead in any way we can. I took care of your Master’s needs just now, and in return, he promised not to forget how much I contributed to today’s activities, when Ursula and Marchion ask.”

“Ah,” said Manny, softly. She didn’t quite understand what Alara was talking about, but… as long as her Master did, she supposed that was okay. She did find the thought of transactions with him funny, though. Whether it was Alara going down on him to get credit, or the many grocers that delivered food to the manor in exchange for coin, almost everyone seemed to think he owed them something.

It was as if nobody else understood that he was the only one with any rights, and that everyone else was lesser than him. Manny didn’t demand his favor—she earned it through her absolute obedience and unconditional adoration. She felt like Alara was a fool for pretending she could make demands.

But who was she to judge, if her Master wanted to humor that?

Manny found herself doing a very strange job only a few hours later. Her Master said the eclipse would happen in the afternoon—had even pointed to the book of notes that he used to conclude it. She’d skimmed through it, strangely captivated by his handwriting in a way no other printed or written text ever seemed to manage, and… Well, she wasn’t too proud to admit she didn’t understand a damned word of it.

Dense jargon like planar intersection and inclination as well as math she didn’t couldn’t even pronounce dominated the book. The only things she’d been remotely able to parse were a pair of maps that had been inserted into the book. The first showed a thick band of black that curved down from Adampor, and went all the way down the coast of Remere and most of Aldressa. He’d told her that was the path the eclipse would trace across the world.

The other showed a different curve. It intersected the one on the first map at nearly a right angle here in Astoria, then cut a swath across Remere. He’d said that one would happen seven years from now, and that that was why he’d chosen to live here, instead of anywhere else. Manny had accepted that as a strange—but very appropriate for him—reason to live somewhere.

That had all been genuinely interesting, and she’d been happy to learn it. She was less happy, however, that it meant she was stuck overseeing the servants he’d tasked with setting up shade in the estate’s gardens. It was a wretchedly sunny day, with not even a hint of cloud overhead, and the sun beat down on the men and women that were currently at work erecting a thick, dark blue canopy.

Manny herself was on her knees in the grass, carefully assembling the same array of brass fittings and shiny lenses they’d previously tested in the courtyard. She was certain her Master was watching her through one of the manor’s many tinted windows, but in the brightness of the spring sun, they were dark mirrors that were all but impossible to see through from outside.

She didn’t hate being out here, she decided. This was just one of a million ways to serve, and she understood her Master would be in terrible pain if he tried to do this himself. But… Well, his aversion to sunlight was wildly contagious, and she couldn’t pretend she would not have preferred it if he’d paid Alara to do this for him instead.

Assembling the array took a lot longer without her Master looking over her shoulder, it turned out. She’d expected it would take her only a few minutes as it had before, but those minutes quickly turned into half an hour, then a full hour. In fact, the nearby workers beat her by almost ten minutes, which was downright shameful. Sean, Judy, and the coachman Adrian had taken up the next task as soon as they finished, moving to set up furniture like tables and seating in the shadow of the canopy, a little oasis for her Master and his guests to view the show from.

After assembling the array, a black cloth was draped over it to shield it from the oppressive sunlight, and a chest full of the energy-absorbing crystals was carried out by Judy and Sean, escorted by Alara. “Remember, Sunset,” the priestess said. “No sunlight on those until your master says so. Keep it covered.”

“I remember the damn rules,” Manny growled a little flippantly, then set to work attaching the crystals to the armature under the thick black cover one by one. It was a repugnant thing to have to work under—swelteringly hot and blocking any breeze like it was made of leather. She was surprised to see she could, well, see. The material shielding the crystals as she handled them didn’t let any light through, but… the little pendant on her collar glowed in the dark, shining with a bit of the sun’s captured light itself.

She worked up a thirst and got very lightheaded in the process, but soon she’d finished this step of the preparations and crawled out from under the cover. She gasped in relief as the slight breeze began to cool her off immediately, and felt a tingle of amusement from her Master. She glanced about for a moment, looking for him, and quickly saw him casually sitting in one of the chairs in the hastily-erected pavilion, wrapped in white clothes to further protect him from the sun’s light. A laugh rose from the others sitting there with him—Lady Ashlander and Lord Aladias seeming to take no small pleasure in watching her struggle to serve.

Manny quickly approached, drawn by her Master’s innate appeal as much as the pitcher of icy water by his side. She paused as she got close, though, and cocked her head in confusion. Unlike at the formal dinner—and the informal ones since then—there was no seat for her, by her Master’s side. Instead, his seat had a little mat laid out next to it, stretching from the rear left leg, to just next to his feet.

He wants me to kneel.

The conclusion was obvious, and came to Manny in an instant. It put a smile on her face. She would have taken a seat in a chair if he offered her one, of course. But he hadn’t, and she was grateful for it. After taking a moment to dust herself off, Manny approached his side, and again dropped down to her knees.

Her own fondness for this mixed with his approval of her, creating a cocktail of fuzzy feelings even before his gloved hand settled on her scalp, scratching and petting as he leaned close and whispered, “such a good girl,” into her ear. “Such a good pet, performing tricks for me.”

Manny shuddered in delight. His praise lacked the physical pleasure of sex or his bite, but… gods above, it still felt so fucking good. Those words did things to her—set her off in a dozen different ways, and seeing the other vampires, priests, and thralls look on as she let out a needy gasp only added to it.

His opinion was the only valid one, and seeing all of them view her as he did—as his property—brought her nothing but joy. She couldn’t quite be the silent pet they might be expecting, though. That big pitcher of water on one of the tables called to her, begging her to slake her thirst, and she felt no shame in asking, “may I? Master?” With a small gesture to the pitcher.

“It’s there for your sake, Little Elf. Help yourself.”

Gratefully, Manny moved towards the little table and guzzled down several cups of the cold water. The cold of it hurt her teeth slightly, but it felt wonderful and fortifying, regardless, and happened to mean she overheard some conversations in the process.

“Do you think this will be worth the effort?” The Artisan asked.

“I do,” said Alara in response, a moment later. “Lord Borohon’s predictions are sound, and the effects of an eclipse are known. The only question is whether the stones can actually capture it, as they could with ordinary sunlight and moonlight.”

Manny considered that as she had her fourth glass. She kept her eyes on the pitcher of water to avoid the appearance of listening in, and noticed she could see many of the people around her reflected in it. She herself was almost recognizable despite the distortions in the glass—dressed almost fully in white to protect against the sun, like her Master. Almost, because the collar around her neck was a deep maroon, save the little pendant shining like a star.

“Hear from Ibrahm?” Asked Aladias.

Lady Ashlander huffed in response. “Hardly. That little twerp’s long gone, I’m sure. Off to try to trick the people of New Gyr into believing he’s worth a damn, perhaps.”

Her thirst sated, Manny quickly returned to her Master’s side, easily kneeling and again basking in his approval. She was a little stricken by how silly his outfit looked up close, but… She could sense he was comfortable despite the bright sun, so the look was quickly growing on her.

“How much longer until the eclipse begins, Master?” She asked him.

“Oh, it’s already begun,” he said, rather casually.

“It has?!” Manny asked. “Then, don’t we have to—”

He silenced her with a raised finger, then reached into his pockets. He produced a dagger-sized bundle of something wrapped in cloth—which he set down in the grass by his feet—and two pieces of parchment. One of the pieces had been blackened with soot and had a little hole punched in the middle of it, and the other was bleached a pristine white. “Take these,” he said, offering them. “Use the black one to block the sun, then hold the white one in the light that makes it through the hole.”

Obediently, Manny took the two bits of parchment, then rose again, and stepped out into the sun. A brief glance up seemed to only show her the full disk of the sun, painfully bright as always, but… she didn’t trust her eyes nearly as much as she trusted him.

Cautiously, she placed the bleached piece down on the grass and used the tip of her boot to hold it in place as she held the dark piece up to the light. Like the thick cover over the array of crystals, it was noticeably warmed up by the sun, and she experimented for a moment to find the right place to hold it.

There was the briefest sense of apprehension across their bond, but as soon as she managed it, she saw what he meant. The little dot of light that made it through the hole in the parchment onto the bleached piece at her feet was no dot at all. It was a little sickle-shaped thing, like someone else was holding up the piece that was missing from the blackened parchment, but hadn’t quite aligned it right.

The oddly-shaped shadow fascinated Manny, and she played around with it for a few moments, holding the pages at different distances and watching how that affected it. She could feel her Master’s amusement at that, and she returned to his side a few moments later, even more impressed by him than she had been before. “I’m amazed you knew that would happen, Master,” she said, softly.

“You’d be awe-struck by the things you can figure out if you give it a lifetime of thought, Little Elf. And astronomy has been my grand passion for a lot longer than one of those.”

“How long, then?” She asked.

“My whole life. I’ve had other interests that came and went, but the stars just keep calling my attention back, sooner or later. If not, I’d have built this house in the caverns of Ocher Sky, where the sun can’t reach.”

“So… How old are you?” Manny asked.

He thought about it for a moment, as if that was a hard question to answer, rather than one he knew the answer to by rote. “Seven hundred and… eighty?” He guessed.

“Seven-ninety-one, actually,” Lady Ashlander butted in. “But who’s counting, right?”

Manny found she wasn’t surprised by that answer, but it did make her sad. He’d said she was his twenty-fourth thrall, so it made sense to her that it would be something like that. He deserved to live such a long life, but Manny despised the fact that she could only serve him for a fraction of it.

“Have you seen an eclipse before?” Manny asked, mostly to change the topic.

“Oh, yes,” he said, a little solemnly. “In fact, that’s what Adrienne—one of your predecessors—and I were traveling for when she…” He trailed off at that, and Manny laid her head in his lap again, stroking his thigh with one hand to give him strength as his thoughts wandered close to that awful grief he lugged around for her predecessors. He smiled faintly, appreciative of the effort. “That was a far more special eclipse than this,” he explained.

“How so?”

“Well, I’ve told you that it’s not just Artemia that can come between Eitheris and the sun, right?” Her Master asked. Manny nodded gently. “Well, with that eclipse, it was Artemia and also another planet, both in front of the sun at the same time.”

Manny could easily picture it—a crescent-shaped sun like what was happening now, with another littler piece missing from it. “And that’s rare?” She concluded.

“Rare doesn’t begin to describe it,” he said, reaching to stroke Manny’s cheek before he took a gentle grip on the glowing pendant around her neck, and tapped the bundle he’d set down with the tip of one of his shoes. “I just wish we’d known about these crystals at the time—who knows what fascinating things we could have done with the light.”

“Is that what this is?!” Manny asked.

He nodded, and shot her a wry grin. “It’s actually a piece from the one you dropped.”

About an hour later, Manny had begun to doze off, slumped against her Master’s leg. It was so warm out, and the joy of being with him just lulled her to sleep as certainly as a full belly and a crackling fire. She knew he didn’t like how much she slept, and they’d been working on her learning to meditate to rest, like any other elf. But… she knew he didn’t mind, this time.

She’d been able to feel his approval as her eyelids started to get heavy, and before she’d known it, her thoughts had decayed into nonsense and fuzz.

Had decayed, because he was now prodding her awake, bouncing his leg under her head and petting her cheek in sympathy. “On your feet, Little Elf. You’ll never forgive yourself if you miss this.”

“Huh?” Asked Manny as her eyes fluttered open, and she stretched a little. She looked around for a moment to get her bearings, and quickly noticed that the vibrant conversations of earlier had died, replaced by a strange, quiet tension. “Did I miss it?”

“What did I just say?” Her Master asked, good-naturedly. “No, you didn’t. Go on, stand up.”

The command registered properly the second time she heard it, and she quickly rose to her feet. The pulse of satisfaction at her obedience washed away the remaining fog from her nap, and she reached up to brush away the hair that had matted to her cheek from sweat. Most of the guests were all looking towards the west, in the direction of the sun. The vampires were all clustered under the shelter of the shade, as were the thralls and most of the priests, but Manny did notice one big exception.

Alara stood out in the grass of the lawn, very close to the array of brass and crystal. And kneeling demurely by her side, wearing a gown that left little to the imagination and did even less to shade her from the sun, was Zorah. Manny wondered what she was doing out here, and was already inhaling to ask when her Master pointed towards the duo. “Totality is only a few minutes away. Help Alara, please,” he said.

“Oh, o—okay,” said Manny, a little uncertainly. She was thrilled to be useful, and this experiment with the crystals certainly would be. But she couldn’t help but feel disappointed, perhaps a little neglected, to not be by his side for the big show. Still, she wouldn’t dare disobey, so she quickly set out across the grass, walking towards the priestess and her latest project.

“Look who decided to join us,” Alara quipped as she got close. “I was beginning to think your master would just let you sleep through the whole affair, Sunset.”

“It’s my Master’s decision whether I do or don’t sleep, Alara—he has every right to do just that..”

“Oh, excellent answer,” purred the priestess, before rapping her fingers across the top of Zorah’s head. “You could learn a lot from her.”

Looking at Zorah now, Manny saw someone who hardly resembled the woman that had sacrificed so much for her as a child. She looked a thousand miles away, distracted and a little dim-witted. “Wha?” She asked, looking around until she saw Manny. For a brief moment, the elf expected she’d see an expression that was some mixture of hateful or desperate, but instead, she got an oblivious smile. “Hello, m—m—mmmadam,” Zorah said.

That was no less unsettling than the reactions she’d expected, but Manny resolved not to let it show. This was for the best—this was the only way she could have proven herself to her Master, and she was positive Zorah’s life would be better for it… eventually.

“Hi, Zorah,” she said.

“Zorah’s done very, very well in her training,” Alara explained as she produced the little wax tablet that served as the woman’s impermanent record. “She’s actually not done a single thing wrong today, yet, if you’ll believe it. She’s really taking to learning everything I have to teach, since she called for help during the dinner.”

That drew a series of drunken-sounding giggles from Zorah. “Dissssobeying is… baaahhd… She slurred.

Manny smiled softly at that. “The worst,” she agreed, then returned her attention to Alara, and the matter at hand. “Master said I had to help you.”

Alara tapped her lip a few times at that. “I suppose you’re a better fit for this than dear Zorah here. She’s a treat to train, but she’s clumsy enough that I wouldn’t trust her not to break a tin cup—let alone these crystals.”

Manny glanced up, and could see the moon nearly covered the full disk of the sun as the sky dimmed unsettlingly fast. In her peripheral vision, she saw something move, and when she turned, she could see the many temples and shrines in the city below go dark—their flames snuffed out as if a grand wave washed over them.

She stepped towards the sight on instinct—not that it made a lick of difference at the distance they were—watching the city be swallowed by noonday night. The animals all around panicked, from the sheep on the pastures of the surrounding mansions to the crows, pigeons, and owls in the trees. And a pulse of excitement from her Master compelled her to look back at him, just in time to see him take off his layers of protective garb, and step out into the open air.

He and his guests all started to move, approaching in a group with their gazes cast up at the sky. Manny could only follow their example, taking in the sight of the sky as dark as the twilight an hour past sunset, and the sun a black disk with what looked like a ring of flame around it. It looked ominous to say the least—perhaps the priests at Shala’s Embrace would have even called it evil.

They would have been wrong, though. Nothing that so excited and pleased her Master could ever be considered evil.

“Alara, would you do the honor of proving the rumors?” Her Master asked, drawing her gaze away from the blackened sun, and towards him.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Alara mused. The priestess looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned to Zorah, staring up at the sky with a dull fascination on her face. “Dormez,” she incanted, calling on the power of her god to do… something. But nothing happened. Zorah didn’t slump over, or jump up, or react in any way. In fact, Manny doubted she’d even noticed the would-be spell was meant for her.

The other priests gasped softly, and followed her example, reciting spells and staring at their hands in wonder when they didn’t do anything.

“Not a moment to waste, then,” her Master said, quickly approaching the array of crystals Manny had assembled so he could pull the cover away and expose them to the elements. Unlike before, all thirty-three slots of the array were filled with the crystals, and her Master took only a moment to inspect Manny’s handiwork before he was satisfied. “Well done, Little Elf!” He praised, sincerely, and Manny giggled from the onslaught of happy feelings that set loose within her.

He lifted the heavy glass lens—the only part she’d not been able to assemble under the cover—and slotted it into the center of the array of concentric shapes, each corner of which held a cloudy-white crystal. Anticipation was building within him, excitement laced with only the faintest edge of nerves and worry that this might not work.

Once he’d ensured everything was ready, he stepped back, gestured at everyone else to do the same, and intoned, “speur beag air a dhèanamh mòr.” As before, this spell made the very sky warp, and a patch of the ground grew fiercely brighter—almost as bright as it had been before the eclipse began. The great glass lens at the center of that patch of the ground captured most of this brightness, and refined it down farther into a concentrated beam which fell on the array below it, where it spread out to the various gems.

Almost immediately, the ones in the central triangle began to discolor. They didn’t turn yellowish with the sun’s light, like the one she wore around her neck, though. Instead, they darkened. They turned from milky white stones to ever-deeper purple voids that resembled the color of the sky around them. Smoke appeared to billow within them impossibly, moving around and swirling in a space that was bigger than the crystals should allow.

She felt his elation at this. It was everything he’d hoped to see today, and more. The priests, Lord Aledias, and Lady Ashlander all clapped to applaud him, and Manny wanted to do something, too. But clapping wouldn’t be enough. She wanted to give him the recognition and reward he deserved for his brilliance, and even though it wouldn’t be remotely enough, an adoring kiss was all she had to offer him. She waited until he’d finished gladhanding his guests, then she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him.

The dominant thrill pulsed from him to the rhythm of his heartbeat, suddenly drawn to the forefront of his mind by that display of submissive love. “I’m proud of you, Master,” she whispered when the kiss broke.

“Oh, are you—”

“I must admit, Lord Borohon,” Aladias suddenly spoke up, interrupting their moment. “I don’t quite understand what all the fuss is about.”

She could sense her Master groan inwardly at that. “You don’t understand?” He asked. “This eclipse prevents priests from casting their spells, and I’ve just found a way to capture that effect. He reached up, tilting Manny’s head back to reveal her collar, and show off its pendant to the foppish man. “A crystal like this, when exposed to the sun, can hold enough of its light to wound a vampire.”

“And… you believe these crystals now hold enough of this eclipse’s light to prevent priests from casting their spells?”

Her Master sighed quietly enough that Manny was convinced only she could hear it. He began to reach into his pocket, and Manny felt the briefest sense of unsettled surprise from him before he remembered something. He looked into Manny’s eyes, then pointed at their little parasol pavilion. “I took one of the crystals out of my pocket, and forgot to put it away. Fetch it, Little Elf.”

“Yes, Master,” whispered Manny deferentially, as she started to make her way towards the briefly useless shade, to find her Master’s misplaced gemstone. She jogged away across the grass, eager to do as he wished, only to notice Alara and Zorah were following her. She shot the priestess a questioning look as she crouched next to his seat as started to search for it.

“I remember what happened the last time he let you hold one of these, Sunset. I figured you’d appreciate the help,” the priestess deadpanned.

Manny tried to find a witty retort—something snide and clever, that would have the right balance of bite and brevity. When she came up empty, she instead elected to stick her tongue out at Alara. That earned her a fond smile just as she found what she was looking for—a crystal wrapped in cloth. It was heavy in the hand, and when she unwrapped it, it did indeed glow like a dimmed sun.

Before she could bring it to her Master, however, she sensed something. The briefest sense of indignation from him flooded her mind. She looked up just in time to see two people emerge from the trees around the edge of the estate, and a stream of power like red smoke shot from one of them into the assembled group.

All at once, they dropped limp where they stood—collapsed under the onslaught of whatever power the trespasser wielded. Primal, overwhelming fear gripped Manny as she wondered whether she’d just seen her Master ripped away from her, only settling down slightly when she felt his confusion, anger, and more than a little fear of his own.

“Forgive me, friends, for showing up uninvited,” the assailant said. Manny recognized his voice immediately. It was Ibrahm. He was approaching his group of victims, and didn’t seem to have noticed Manny and Alara weren’t with them. He had a sword in one hand and a slowly smoldering scroll in the other. His thrall was by his side, holding a big kitchen knife as a weapon of her own.

Manny scrambled to her feet, already rushing towards the unfolding events despite Alara’s hushed insistence to keep quiet. Ibrahm wasn’t facing her—she could easily ambush him right now, while he was getting close enough to do whatever vile deed he was planning.

How fucking dare you cast spells on him?! She thought.

She ran across the lawn at a full-tilt sprint, desperate to protect her Master from this asshole that was looming over him. But when she got close enough that she could have thrown a rock at him, he suddenly spun around, pointing at her as he pressed the tip of his sword to her Master’s neck. “Tut, tut, tut,” he said, wagging his index finger as Manny skidded to a stop on the grass. “I’d hate to be forced to rush things because you just had to go above and beyond, thrall.”

“You’re fucking dead if you—”

“And he’s dead if you don’t get on your knees right now,” he cut off, pressing the sword against her Master’s throat hard enough that she could feel the sting of it. Manny glared at him, and she did the mental math to see if she could somehow overpower him. “I won’t tolerate any more disrespect.”

“What do you want?!” She spat.

“Kneeling first, talking later,” he said, dismissively, before pointing behind Manny, to something out of sight. “You too, priestess.” Swallowing her pride and desperately hoping Alara would do the same, Manny did what he demanded, and dropped to her knees. “There, was that so hard?”

Manny glanced at her Master. His eyes were glued squarely to her, and Manny was positive whatever spell had paralyzed them all was keeping him from saying anything. She’d have to do the talking herself. She swallowed, and took a deep, steadying breath. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I want so very much,” he said. “I’ve been insulted gravely, after all—reparations need to be made.”

“Insulted?” Asked Manny.

“Kicked and beaten by my host, just for being what I am!” The fool began. “I was simply feeding, subject to my gods-given nature, and this insufferable, superior fuck you call your master beat me for it. He pushed, and shoved, and punched, and then he kicked me once I was down—which broke a rib, by the way—as if I deserved it.”

Manny had to bite down the instinct to retort, because it would be so, so easy to retort. He’d been disrespectful from the word go, and that had been before he’d forced his way into Alara’s room to feed on Zorah and hurt Sean.

“The only reason he invited me was to mock me—to humiliate me. He planned to hurt me, I know he did.”

“That’s not true!” Manny said, defiantly.

“Oh?” He asked, mockingly. “Then explain this.” Cued by her master’s words, the nameless thrall stepped towards Manny, and offered her a crumpled piece of paper. Manny took it and flattened it, then read it. Her heart sank as she did so. It was one of the little dossiers her Master had provided her about the guests—specifically, his dossier. “Trouble,” he quoted. “Abusive to my thralls, killing them regularly. Does that sound like someone he’d invited with good intentions?”

Manny didn’t know what to say to that. Unfortunately, the man just kept talking. She nervously glanced up, worried that the eclipse would end soon, and spell disaster for the vampires who’d taken off much of their protective garb.

“So, I figure I’m entitled to a little compensation,” he continued. As he spoke, he grew more relaxed, and even took his sword off of her Master’s throat to saunter about the group. Manny began to move, determined to protect her Master, but felt a pulse of fear from him just as the thrall pressed her knife to Manny’s throat. She seethed as she stayed put, desperately hoping Alara would know when the eclipse was sufficiently over to be able to cast spells again—if that was even how it worked. “If I just make all of you disappear, and take these crystals for myself, I wager I can make a tidy little profit. More than enough to be worth the cost.”

“Scum,” she spat.

“Perhaps,” he mused, turning to look at her Master. “But… well, in for a Scale, in for a Dragon, right? Sending spies and thieves to learn your secrets didn’t work, did it? It just got your poor Florian killed, and made you even less fun to be around.”

“You?!” Demanded Manny. “That was your fault?!” She felt anger—sheer hate—rise in her Master. It was a furious, terrible thing, far beyond anything she’d ever felt before. And it was infectious. It dripped like poison into her mind, dulling her to how much danger she was in. Her Master wanted this man dead, and she’d make it happen. She had a weapon, after all—she’d learned the hard way how much it hurt when these crystals shattered around her Master.

Already, the sun was starting to peek out from behind the moon, and the divine flames on the temples in the city beyond them were flickering back to life. She tightened her grip on the crystal, knowing that she needed to deal with this monster, and that she needed to do it now. He was turned away from her, and in a moment of hateful courage, she slapped away the other thrall’s knife before launching herself at him.

The thrall cried out and tried to slash at Manny with the knife, but it was too little, too late. Manny was beyond her reach, and she saw someone tackle the thrall. The crystal was sharp, and she wielded it like an improvised stake, thrusting it at her enemy’s back. He moved when he heard his thrall’s panicked cry, but not enough to avoid her completely. The sharp, glassy material buried itself in the man’s hip before it shattered with blinding light and the heat of the sun, and both he and his thrall screamed in agony as he flailed at Manny with his sword.

In the blinding light of the crystal’s breaking, though, Alara managed to cast a spell, and the sword bounced off an unseen force. After that, her assailant didn’t seem to have the strength for a second strike, because he collapsed where he stood.

“The scroll!” Alara yelled, diving for the smoldering piece of paper clutched in the maimed vampire’s claws. She pulled it free and tore it apart, causing the two halves to burn away in an instant. Almost immediately, everyone that had been paralyzed started to rise—Lady Ashlander and Aladias running for shade, while Ursula and Marchion quickly covered the array of crystals with the thick fabric that still laid nearby.

Her Master, however, did neither. His fury was an overwhelming thing, making him apathetic to the increasingly bright sun overhead. He picked up his assailant’s sword, and Manny could sense his intention to kill the man. She couldn’t blame him—just feeling what he felt made her want to torture him to death over the course of weeks. He’d confessed to being the reason her Master’s last thrall was dead, and had done it as a boast. But she placed a hand on his regardless, stalling him.

“What?” He asked, coldly.

Manny answered by pointing at Ibrahm’s thrall, held down by Zorah and Alara, thrashing and screaming wordlessly. “You’ll hurt her, too,” she said. She was painfully aware that it would be her in the other thrall’s shoes if this monster’s plan had succeeded. She could hardly imagine what that would be like, but her Master had warned her in their first days together that a thrall never, ever recovered from their master’s death.

“I don’t care,” he growled. “You shouldn’t either, Manny, he was going to kill us—he killed my Florian, and she was helping him. You should want to pull the fangs from his skull and watch him starve, damn how she feels about it.”

Manny swallowed, staring into his hate-twisted face. After a moment, though, she nodded. She should want to do that. She should relish in his feelings and let herself be swept away by them—not try to temper them. Around them, the sky was getting brighter again, the brief twilight of totality hastily making way for the light of true day. “You should get in the shade, Master,” she said. “Leave him.”

He considered that for a moment, glancing up at the sun long enough that Manny could feel its light sting his face. Then he nodded at her. “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted, sounding reluctant. He took a few moments to ensure the crystals they’d gone through all this trouble to alter were covered properly, and put the wide-brimmed hat, scarf, and veil that served to protect him from the sun back on.

The whimpering of the nameless thrall bothered him, though. She could feel it. Despite his fury—despite the loathing and craving to hurt—despite wanting to want to inflict terrible things on her, he just didn’t. That came to a head when he kicked Ibrahm in the half-charred remains of his hip, and her cries made him physically cringe and recoil.

“Isn’t there something you can do for her?” Manny asked, meekly. “I couldn’t feel you after he used his”—she pointed at her own eyes—“on me. Maybe that would make this less… awful for her?”

“Your upbringing is showing, Little Elf,” he said, a little dismissively. Though, Manny supposed it was a fair point—Abbess De La Cornon would surely be advocating for the same thing. He approached Alara and Zorah, both using their full body weight to keep the thrall pinned down on her back. “Drag her into the shade,” he ordered them.

Over the course of another minute, Manny watched as Alara, Zorah, and Ursula dragged the fitful thrall away from her master’s side. It was hard, even with the hate and resentment that flowed into her mind. The poor girl’s panic was deepening more and more with every passing moment, as the sun grew brighter and brighter overhead. Ibrahm was just as loud, but that didn’t seem to bother anyone.

When they got to the shade, the group tasked with wrangling the thrall put her down on her knees. Manny’s Master paced back and forth for a moment, clearly trying to think despite the chaos of the situation. After a moment, though, Manny could feel he’d made up his mind. There was a strain across their bond—a build-up of power and intent, and when it went away, the thrall’s screams died in her throat as he used his sorcerous eyes to pacify the nameless thrall.

“Really, Vinny?” Lady Ashlander asked. “You’re bothering to help her?”

Her Master looked up at her, and Manny did the same. She was stricken by just how haunted the other two thralls—Edith and Shani—looked by the unfolding scene. She supposed they were imagining what it would be like if their masters suffered this one’s fate, which was something Manny was only narrowly avoiding doing herself.

“Why not? I doubt she had anything to do with Florian,” her Master growled in response, then turned to look at the traumatized girl, currently reeling from whatever sorcery he’d inflicted on her. “Did you?”

The thrall didn’t answer.

Her Master sighed, then glanced about for a moment. “Artisan,” he said, locking eyes with the fae, “you can help her, can’t you?”

“Of course I can,” they easily said—speaking for what felt to Manny like the first time in days. “But what’s in it for me, Lord Borohon?”

“You mean besides getting to keep her?”

“Helpless humans are thick on the ground, and I don’t make a habit of taking in strays. Not without a bargain in place.”

Her master sighed. “One of the crystals we just made,” he said. “For you personally to keep, not your organization at large.”

The Artisan seemed to take a moment to consider the offer, leaving ample time for Manny to wonder what exactly was happening here. She knew some things about fae, of course—Alara had made it clear that a fae’s power over someone was absolute, when they knew their name. But why they had to be bribed into doing so was beyond Manny.

“One of the crystals—if they work—and… a favor,” they said after a moment.

“What kind of favor?” Her Master asked.

The Artisan only shrugged at that. “Nothing that’ll get between you and your thrall, I assure you. I’ll have to think on precisely what it might be for a few years, I’m sure.”

Her Master glanced at Manny, sheer detachment writ large on his face. She did her best to look encouraging. She’d understand if he didn’t want to give up so much to help a stranger—gods, she wasn’t sure she’d have done so herself, a few months ago. But she did hope he would make sure this thrall didn’t suffer the awful fate he’d promised Manny was in store for any thrall whose master died.

“Fine. One of the crystals, and a favor,” her Master growled, extending a hand towards the Artisan. They reached out to shake it, but he pulled his hand back at the last minute. “If you can help her to my satisfaction.”

The Artisan grinned broadly at her Master. “Very clever,” they said with a nod. “It’s a bargain, my lord.” The two shook on it, and Manny could swear there was a slight hum of magical potential as they did. Then the Artisan turned away, facing towards their new project.

“Hello, dear,” they purred. “Care to give me your name?”

The thrall, tired and defeated-looking, shook her head. “Master says… I don’t have a name,” she slurred. “Just… just thrall.”

“As is his right,” the Artisan sagely agreed. “But… well, a name is a powerful thing. If you had a name, thrall, I might be able to use it to save your life.” That was only met with silence. The thrall looked out towards the open lawn, where the sun was turning Ibrahm’s skin to char wherever it could reach. The vampire’s screams had already died down, and Manny loathed to think what awaited this girl if she didn’t cooperate. “If you were to have a name, I could certainly save your life and sanity. But… I might even be able to save that of your—”

“Jyll,” the thrall blurted out, cutting the fae off. “Jyll Sunders.”

“Outstanding, Jyll Sunders,” the Artisan said, contentedly. Manny could feel her Master’s satisfaction at the fae’s success clearly, and she held her breath in anticipation. It didn’t look like Ibrahm had much time left, and she could admit she was morbidly curious to see the fae’s power in effect.

“Can you help him, now?” The thrall—Jyll, Manny mentally corrected—asked.

“You don’t care whatsoever about saving your former master, Jyll Sunders,” the Artisan said in a sing-song voice. Manny couldn’t sense any power to the words—not directly, and not through her bond with her Master—but she could plainly see its effects. Jyll straightened immediately, almost all of the dismay and fear dropping from her shoulders like ballast dumped from a ship. “In fact, you never even had a master. It was all a misunderstanding—a potion that wore off, wasn’t it, Jyll Sunders?”

It took a moment, and Manny could almost see the gears in Jyll’s mind slowly turn to parse what she was hearing. She wondered what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that kind of magic—and she imagined she’d probably like it, assuming it was her Master doing it to her.

“A… a misunderstanding,” Jyll slowly repeated, nodding as she did so.

“That’s right, Jyll Sunders. You can’t feel a thing from the bond, now that you know it was just a misunderstanding.”

Again, there was a pause, during which they all watched on in silence. Jyll nodded. “Y—yeah,” she agreed. “Can’t feel a thing… I never could. Just a misunderstanding.”

“That’s amazing,” mumbled Manny, as she shuffled closer to her Master, who wrapped an arm around her waist in a possessive, yet gentle gesture.

“I’d gladly give you the same treatment,” the Artisan said, turning to look at her with mischievous glee. “Just give me your name.”

“Ha! Not likely,” Manny scoffed. She was glad this fae’s sorcery was able to help Jyll, but she wasn’t interested in the slightest in suffering the same fate. She was perfectly, totally happy by her Master’s side, and she stood by what she’d said during the dinner. Unlike Jyll, Manny was nobody’s victim. Thralldom was a privilege, an enrichment unlike any other. Looking into her Master’s eyes, she saw power, stability, and guidance. She saw love, appreciation, and discipline.

When he was attacked by that fool, she’d been able to sense he was afraid for her safety just as much as his own. It was the greatest honor in the world to serve him. He was kind when he could be, and brutal when he couldn’t. He was gentle when she deserved it, and firm when she needed it. He was generous when he could afford to be, and wonderfully selfish when she had anything to give him.

Manny was his twenty-fourth adoring thrall.

And he was her one and only Master.