The stars glared down.
It was no wonder. I didn’t know them nor they me; those familiar pin points of light that I had ignored my whole life were now gone. The sky above bristled with foreign, hostile constellations; a bitter reminder of home not lost on me as the bracelet buzzed in warning. Wide, thick and gleaming silver, it encircled my right wrist. I turned from the window and continued on my way, head bowed. Occasionally shadows would brush over my face and I would hear a faint humming, the only indications that a master passed by.
Only one bothered to brush minds with me but it was the briefest of touches. I shuddered, still unused to it, and quickened my step. The bracelet buzzed again, this time sending a small jolt of pain into my shoulder. Though I didn’t look, my feet knew the familiar, winding way through the cold stone passageways. Burning torches, oily smoke and draughty winds; all so very, very familiar. It was the latest game she had decided to play with me. In some twisted way, she actually thought this was a nice gesture. To create the illusion of Castle Cilna, of home, was the worst sort of torture I could imagine. I struggled to reign in my anger, my shame as I climbed the steps up the northern tower.
Reaching the top, I knocked carefully on the wooden door. It flew open almost immediately and I cowered before the wrath of my mistress. Of course, the illusion of home was never complete with such as her in control. Tall, impossibly slender and coloured as darkly as night, she was both ephemeral and strikingly beautiful. Her long, tapered gleamed in the light. She was buzzing in anger, small intermittent trills indicating her displeasure.
– You are late.
– Mistress, I –
I got no further then that as waves of pain lanced into me. My body folded, muscles turned liquid with pain and I convulsed on the floor. Behind the pain, tides of rage pounded into me and something else; a darker, murky emotion was threaded throughout. As suddenly as it had come it was gone and I was gasping harshly for air, tears stinging my eyes.
– Attend me.
The words sliced into my mind. I scrambled to my feet and stood trembling, eyes fearful of meeting hers. My thoughts were scrambled, scattered by fear. What had I just done? I took a deep breath.
“Apologies, Mistress. I acted without thought,” I said, carefully.
– Speak of this to no one. Now, attend me.
She retreated into the room, the deep blue of her gown swishing in her wake. The antechamber was sumptuous, decorated in rich reds and golds, patterned with the Cilna personal crest. I’d never even been in this room, reserved as it was by the Duke for foreign dignitaries and important visitors. How could she possibly know so much of it? A chilling thought occurred to me: perhaps she’d been there herself. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one taken and even now, Castle Cilna lay in ruins. I clamped down on the horrible images that followed, forcing myself to take note of the room. An exquisite table was set out with dishes and a steaming pot of choka, its spicy scent giving the room a heady air.
She was expecting someone, then. I took my place at the side of the table, as she sat down and waited. Internally, I was still reeling from what I had done and now with a moment to collect myself, I thought on it. I’d always been able to sense them touch my mind; it was as though they dipped a hand into the most private part of my soul, sometimes as light as a caress, oft-times more savage and violent. Until this day, I hadn’t thought it unusual that I should be able to know this, nor had I spoken to anyone about it. Was I going to be punished for it?
– No, now be silent! He comes.
My back stiffened beneath her disapproval, but my curiosity was piqued. In this place of nonstop, strange lighting, it was hard to mark the passing of time, but by my reckoning I had been inside this flying monstrosity – a starship, they called it, of all things - for no longer than two weeks and in all that time I had never seen mistress entertain another guest. Steps echoed hollowly, announcing the arrival of the guest.
“Councillor Viln, to see her Eminence, Lady Star,” a voice spoke from beyond the door. So, that was her name.
“The Lady will see the Councillor. Enter,” I said, completing the ritual opening. I wondered why we even bothered with it, as the masters could mind-speak and surely knew of each other. Old habits die hard though and this small custom they allowed us. The door opened and a boy’s tousled head peeked through. He cautiously opened the door, bowing as he did so. Councillor Viln swept into the room and I found my lip curling. I detested him on sight. Tall and reed-thin as most of his people were, he nonetheless had nothing of their beauty. His face was flat and toad-like. He was clothed more richly then the room itself, and with less taste. Even the boy was wearing a garish set of mismatched pink and blue silks.
Councillor Viln chittered a greeting and in response, Star trilled a series of notes in their musical language. The boy took his place beside me as the two began to talk. I could sense nothing of mental communication. Why had they chosen to bother with speech? Perhaps there was more to this mindspeak than I had thought; something shared only between friends and family or worse, lovers. My eyes widened involuntarily at the thought. No wonder she had been so angry and not a little shocked, I reflected. It explained why she always said as little as possible and seemed to regard even that minimal contact with disgust. The bracelet was more my teacher than anything else and the lessons were often harsh.
A brief pause in the lilt of conversation and my body moved, reacted almost independent of thought. I poured the choka into their waiting cups and stood, waiting. They sipped and regarded each other thoughtfully for a moment. I took the chance to study my counterpart. I hadn’t seen him in the slave docks before and I couldn’t help but be glad. His skin was swarthy and gleamed darkly, as though oiled. Squat and hairy, he wore a self-satisfied expression. The conversation between our masters was accelerating, trills and beeps merging into an angry buzzing sound. Councillor Viln was leaning forward over the table, gesturing violently. Lady Star’s back was stiff and proper; he was pushing for something and she was insulted by the suggestion. It seemed the conversation was not going as planned; I could feel them moving mentally.
It felt as though the air in the room suddenly tightened, became restrictive. They weren’t speaking, so much as gathering themselves for something, I surmised. My throat was suddenly dry with fear. What should I do if they attacked one another? Almost as soon as I thought it, I knew I would leap at the unctuous Councillor to protect Star. As quickly as I knew it, so did he; his outraged eyes flew to mine and his mind lashed out. His touch was heavy and loathsome. Instinctively I reared away from it, fleeing deeper into my own mindscape. There was no thought, only reaction. An instant later, Star was there and the contact was severed. Blinking, I gasped at the tableau that had changed in the space of a heartbeat; Star was standing, clutching a long and slender silver rope in one hand. Iridescent light crawled along its length.
She was buzzing furiously and with one final, dismissive beep, she turned away. The Councillor rose, his bearing stiff and deeply affronted. He sent me one lasting glare before striding away. My hair was slick with sweat and I stood trembling before her, wondering what she would do now. I stared at the rope, its beautiful, deadly grace and saw in it a similar flame to the one burning with the lady. Star noted my interest in it, stroked its length tenderly.
– For once, your thoughts are of value. It is beautiful, is it not?
“Indeed, Mistress.” I hesitated a moment, before daring a question. “What is it exactly?”
She regarded my coolly. Without answering, she began to hum. The sound was melodious and sweet, a haunting tune that rose and fell. It was a song, I thought, but its relevance was lost on me. Its effects, however, were not. The rope shivered and began to retract with a series of chinks, faster and faster retreating into itself until it was once more a plain, silver ring adorning her left hand.
– It contains my namesake. Pure, raw starlight.
Her thoughts were warm and soft, tinged with sadness. She returned to her seat at the table, silent. A slight hand gesture and again, I moved without thought, to begin collecting the cups and plates. Hers, I left untouched, refilling it with the rejuvenating choka brew. She spared me a grateful glance and brought it to her lips once more.
“Mistress, about…what happened…” I began.
– It shall not happen again. To mindtouch another’s Si-an is a serious breach of conduct. Councillor Viln has been warned.
She thought I was referring to the confrontation. Of the thought that had prompted it, she said nothing. How far could I go with this? She was so indifferent, so aloof and strange that her motives and reasoning were beyond me. What more could I do but question?
“And earlier, Mistress? When I…” I hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it. She spared me the necessity.
– We shall not speak of it. And you shall not attempt it again.
“How can I stop what I cannot control?” I protested. “Mistress, I don’t even know what I did.”
– And we shall keep it that way. Now, go.
Disappointed, I collected the last of the dishes and walked to the door. I glanced back, with one last request but the flat stare she gave me warned me not to push it. Silently, I left the room and made my way to the kitchens.
**
The stones rippled and vanished, melding seamlessly back into the sterile, metallic walls I remembered. Though it felt traitorous to think it, I was glad for the change. It was much easier to see via the glowing panels laid into the ceiling, than it was by torchlight. I was glad too, that Star had thought to make the change. I trailed down the walkway, feeling no desire to hurry. I was only allowed in the Western Sector of the ship, but even so, it took nearly a quarter of an hour to reach the kitchen. I knew because Cook – a seedy, small man who refused to go by any other name – soundly informed me of the fact with a round of curses and a sharp cuff to the head. He told me it was late in the afternoon, pointing at the clock.
Cook had adapted with far more ease to the new technology. He was from a place called Earth and said such things were known there. The kitchen was bustling with people running to and fro, the occasional yelp indicating those too slow in their efforts. Presiding over it all, Cook gave orders with ease, directing his extensive staff as though he’d been doing it all his life. “I wasn’t always a cook,” he said once, mysteriously after one too many noxious brews. He didn’t seem displeased with his new vocation and like others, preferred not to speak on the past. Off to the side, most people were already seated and eating. I grabbed a plate and some food, finding a place at one of the less crowded tables.
Before I could even begin to eat, the ship began to shake and roar. Plates and spoons began to rattle and clank, creating a momentarily deafening cacophony. With an ease born of familiarity, no one panicked, the loose cutlery was held still and the din quietened. Conversations were stuck up once again.
“That’s the sixth time in two days that we’ve moved,” a bald man to my left said.
“Keeping count, old man?” Ember asked. It had taken me some time to get used to Ember, a young man with skin the colour of mahogany. He was lighter than those that ruled but even so, he was still treated with a measure of wariness and resentment. Though he was always polite, I still found it hard to meet his eyes.
“Damn right I am. I’ve been in too many scraps not to recognise what’s going on – we’re running from something.” His words were met with silence. I hadn’t been thinking on our arrivals or departures and hadn’t thought at all of what we were doing. It was passing strange, I reflected, that we had yet to reach the masters homeland and indeed, that we had stopped so often, for no apparent reason. The conversation, spoken softly, was lost beneath the general noise of the kitchen.
“That’s great, right? The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Ember said, eyes lighting up with excitement. “Perhaps this will be our chance to escape! What if the pursuers are seeking to aid us?” If indeed we were running, it certainly accounted for Star’s edginess the past couple of days. Was the meeting with the councillor today somehow related? Something was definitely up, I thought. The old man thumped his hand down on the table, causing a few heads to turn. He stared them down, bullish, before returning to the matter at hand.
“Damn it, didn’t you hear me? We’re running! Trust me; we don’t want to face whatever’s got these lizard-freaks scared.”
“We don’t know anything for sure,” a quiet, smooth voice interceded. All eyes turned to me and with horror I realised the words had come from my mouth. I flushed deeply, ducking my head. “I just mean to say, we shouldn’t start jumping at every shadow. Could be anything.” Again, the words hadn’t come from me, but this time I recognised Starlight’s presence. She was trying to ensure we remained calm and placid but despite this I couldn’t stem an upwelling of outrage. How dare she use me so!
“The girl’s right.” There was a rueful sort of shame in the old man’s voice and I could see him reappraising me. “We don’t know anything yet. Still, we should keep alert.”
) You're a great writer and all, but I think you may have started at a bad point. I'm kinda just sitting here reading, waiting for the story to start. Yeah, you're setting everything up, but can't you let these details come in as we read, or have some things happen later? Excite us a bit. Hook us. 
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