10 – Aftermath by Asprin, Robert

Having watched the gleam of the patrol’s lantern approach and fade on the curtains that masked his streetward window, Melilot said, “Are you sure he has not cast a spell on you? Last year you said this was to be the time of your final visit to Enas Yorl, at least for personal reasons. You said that after it your face would be restored to the same condition as your”-he coughed behind one plump hand-“the rest of you.”

“I’m having second thoughts,” Jarveena muttered. “It’s sometimes not a bad thing to be able to turn off an unwanted suitor just by doing this.” And she drew her eyebrows down, glaring at him from beneath their two graceful arcs. At once Melilot’s gaze, against his will, was drawn away from the rest of her face and horribly concentrated on the livid cicatrix that marred her forehead and instantly made her handsome features more repulsive than the worst invention of Sanctuary’s hawkmasks.

“You haven’t done it to him.” Melilot suggested.

“Yes. At first. It had no effect. That was what got me interested Klik- itagh.” She had perfectly mastered the final sound of the name; Melilot, to his shame, knew that he would have to practice it half a dozen times aloud and in private before he dared address the man directly.

“What, then, followed?”

“The discovery that something worse could happen to a person than what I went through as a child.”

For an instant her face reflected memories of long ago and far away. Melilot, knowing what was in her mind, shivered. To have been raped repeatedly, then whipped and left for dead among the ruins of her native village Holt-not for nothing now referred to as Forgotten-when she was no more than nine . . . Was that not sufficient horror to enter into anybody’s life?